#they gave him too many scenes of kindness
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a christopher eccleston appreciation post
i will never say this enough because i don't know enough words, nor do i think such words exist, that could even begin to summarize how much i love christopher eccleston, but... i love christopher eccleston. and, more importantly, i have a deep-rooted respect for that man.
i started doctor who as, let's be honest, a sci-fi hater, forcing myself because i was obsessed with david tennant, and i was kind of dreading the first series because of this. but i was dead wrong.
he broadened my mind, gave me so many laughs, and so many cries, and i'm not the first to say that whenever eccleston is on the screen you just can't take your eyes off him, even when he's not supposed to be the main focus of the scene.
the way he can switch from silly goose to traumatized soldier in a matter of seconds will never cease to amaze me. or how he can play with both like he's on a swing by balancing it out with sarcasm?
i think whoever doesn't give him the title role in their shows/films is either an idiot, or they know the main character just isn't always the best.
i think it's downright idiotic and shameful that he gets rejected from ever playing some shakespeare just because of his northern accent (they're just posh elitist pos). now that he's older, and that times are evolving (i mean, i hope the world of theater is vibing with this evolution, but i'm not delusional), i hope we get to see him portray a character like leontes in winter's tale cause i know he'd be absolutely perfect for the role, and who better than shakespeare (this character especially, with his nuances and highs and lows and breakdowns and breakthroughs) to match acting like his?
saw an article where eccleston talked about how the moment he really knew he wanted to be an actor was when he had to wear mascara for a play, and had enjoyed it. i think he talks about it in his autobiography too (you should read it, btw, it's frankly affordable, and he happens to be a marvelous writer as well).
eccleston knows he is mistakenly type-cast, because of his background, as macho men and tough blokes in general. he's aware that it's kind of a big part of his culture. again, he talks about it i think in the very first chapter, how for instance he used to dress up as james bond, the pinnacle of "masculinity", which i think was a disguise in the metaphorical sense of the term, to mask his delicacy and femininity (or at least, that's my interpretation of it).
in his biography, eccleston talks about the differences between him and his dad, ronnie: he was surprised, as a child, whenever his father's affection manifested as a kiss or a hug, cause that usually wasn't his father's way of doing things. he compares it to how he, in contrast, has the habit of kissing his own son, albert, and telling him he loves him.
you can find it as well in how he talks about his anorexia, his body dysmorphia and, i think we can call it that, gender dysphoria. he's from a time when those concepts didn't even exist, they weren't a thing to the public eye. my father and my step-father, both feminine men in their own way, and both around eccleston's age, both told me about the struggle that it represented, not being the stereotype of the macho tough guy, and being surrounded by boys who didn't struggle with that issue. it made my dad a junkie, my stepdad a depressive artist, and, apparently, it made eccleston an anorexic actor.
i think it takes a lot of courage for people that age (the boomer generation as we call them), especially men, from whom we expect toxic masculinity, masculinity pushed to an extreme, to be able to openly call it out and dissect it into what it is: a ridiculous standard. but to be a PUBLIC FIGURE, in his 60s, and still find the strength to express it? damn. takes guts, i think.
most of us on this website, we're babies. most of us are at most in their thirties. the millenials and the gen z, and now the gen alpha, we take that for granted. or get offended and scandalized that being able to express oneself isn't yet a basic standard.
but then, i talk to my mum, and i realize that she had to stray from her catholic, sexist education, she had to make up her own mind about things in order for me to be born a free spirit. and that's just considering my mum's a cishet.
christopher eccleston expressed in other words that he doesn't fully consider himself to be cisgendered. i have mad respect for the way he talks about it, and for even talking about it at all.
then, there's his honesty. the more interviews i watch, the more it impresses me. he knows honesty goes hand in hand with dignity. i'm sorry but i'm tired of people who are nice all the time. you never know when they're being honest, and maybe some of them are, who knows. but i'm not stupid enough to think that so many people are just pure sunshine all the time (respect for tennant for lashing out publically about transphobia, i think he passed the test).
eccleston? he knows how to be both brutally honest and yet respectful at the same time. no ukulele apology from this man and holy fuck, it feels good!
i've seen him call russel t davies out for his lack of professionalism on the set of doctor who, and then list him amongst the great writers he's worked with. which makes me want to believe eccleston's side, because, if you're always either too polite, or too full of spite about eveything, who's to say you're not the problem? i've got way less trouble believing you if you can stay unbiased about a person you're having beef with than if suddenly everything said person does turns into shit just cause you don't like them. that's just maturity and wisdom.
one last thing i love about eccleston is that he is interested in other people's lives. there's a critic by marcus berkmann in his book that perfectly expresses my point: "you know what to expect from the autobiographies of most actors, i think: anecdotes, charm, more than mild self-satisfaction and faux-modesty by the bucketload. but christopher eccleston is not most actors".
and that's it. watch him in interviews and at convention panels, where he lets his younger co-stars speak before himself, and seizes the occasion when journalists ask him questions that are meant to make him talk about himself to praise his writers and other actors instead.
read his autobiography, which is both a love letter to his dad and a big let's-be-honest about the struggles of growing up poor and his personal struggles, because he thinks raising awareness is just as important as protecting himself.
look at his instagram posts where he unabashedly disses the monarchy and stays true and loyal to his background even after getting a taste of money. and his other posts where he shares his love for acorns and spending time with his kids.
i've seen him nearly break down in shame and regret on television for having stolen a kid's crisps in primary school. and not trying to find lame excuses for his behaviour. no ukulele apology, just facts, just christopher eccleston showing us what masculinity in its purest, most beautiful form should be about
#christopher eccleston#i love the bones of you#doctor who#ninth doctor#9th doctor#the leftovers#matt jamison#death and the compass#red scharlach#the a word#maurice scott#hearts and minds#drew mackenzie#crackers#david bilborough#our friends in the north#nicky hutchinson#shallow grave#david stephens#hillsborough#trevor hicks#jude#jude fawley#macbeth
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One thing I don't think I can forgive the donghua for doing is making Yan Wushi redeemable.
#let him be an asshole#they gave him too many scenes of kindness#like. dont get me wrong#i think he becomes a better person at the end#but like better does not necessarily equal good#again! i like the donghua! but its not the book#and the book is I N C R E D I B L E#so i didnt really expect it to translate mediums well in any case#thousand autumns#yan wushi
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FUCK RECENT BOOK JUST ENDED?!?!???!!
#i have been away too long. WEIRD ass position to be in.#constantly obsessing over my interest but getting scared to interact w it outside of the mind palace#gguuuhhh..... the... ISSUES....... why do i have so many of them...#I NEVER EVEN FULLY FINISHED SEIDER'S BOOK. i was scared of disappointment and scared of an ending#ugh .. but i am... so invested in ratatoskr... alfonse's insane dynamic w her. even if we don't see more of it#like. just the fact that we got That Scene. gave me enough of alfonse's character to work w for A LIFE TIME.#like to me. it can DIRECTLY translate to how he theoretically has been w sharena growing up.#and it still drives me so insane that alfonse has no personal attachment to ratatoskr and is (EVEN SELF ADMITTED!)#using her to his own ends. BUT. BUT. he's still so fucking good to her??? respecting her autonomy#again even if that WAS to win her over. like he was So good about it. IDK IDK IT'S THAT MIXTURE#of an act being purely practical and even self-serving. but he's honest and kind about it.#and ultimately it's on her if she wants to accept that under the given conditions/expectations.#and then ofc the Scheming. alfonse's METICULOUS ride or die act. ratatoskr made the informed choice to trust him#AND BOY HOWDY. WHAT THE FUCK. SIR. i KNOW you have your reasons and all of this is a means to an end#AND THAT'S WHAT DRIVES ME EVEN MORE INSANE. give him a compelling enough reason not just personal practical too#and even if he met you like yesterday. or maybe generously. maybe a week has passed.#this guy is both READY and WILLING. to put his life on the line for you. GOD.#uhghhhh... maybe i should actually play feh.........
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#Fifteen episode 2. Mmmmmmhhhhhh#The animation quality DOES get worse. This episode shows it lol#So many static frames stretching for so long... I feel so sorry for the animators.#I still stand by the fact that if studios can't provide enough budget or time to their animators seasons simply shouldn't be released.#But after all who am I to talk...#The scene of Dazai shooting at the soldier makes my blood freeze. Rimbaud throwing books in the fire is equally upsetting#Like I /know/ it's an anime about literature with constant metafiction references–#and that this too has a symbolic meaning and is *supposed* to be upsetting but that said.#Seeing whole books being thrown in the fire is such a disturbing sight that calls for such a visceral response in me 😭😭😭#The amv opening is nice! Makes me even more bitter about season 5 one lmao. Of the kind#“not only we had to get a amv opening (((while we deserved a wholly ss/kk focused opening)))‚ we even got a bad amv ending at that”#Mmmmhhhh I hateeeeeee how they handled the Sheep 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Seriously this is just another bug instance of#“me and the author have WHOLLY different views of what human nature is like”#I just... Don't think... Children joining together in an hostile environment would act like that. I'm so much more of a t/pn kind of guy.#Children who come together to survive would protect each other and especially would trust each other. Why is there such a big lack of trust#Why doesn't Shirase trust Chuuya? Why doesn't Chuuya trust Shirase (with handling more information)? It's just dumb#It's dumb. It sounds stupid from the very plot aspect that Chuuya would act so shady and suspicious with the Sheep instead of being open–#about what his course of action is. It's like he was trying to have them turn on him. It's stupid of Shirase to mistrust Chuuya–#when in eight years he never gave them any reason to doubt of him.#And I know right as I'm writing this that someone is going to read it and think “you're completely missing on the unbalance of power that–#creates these dynamics of lack of trust” but the thing is exactly that I don't see why that unbalance of power would ever come to be!#They're all just kids. They're aware of that. If Chuuya never had malicious intentions towards Shirase‚ I don't see why he would ever fear–#his betrayal. Likewise‚ I don't see why Shirase and the other Sheep members would ever be so manipulative and disrespectful towards–#Chuuya if he's been nothing but kind to them (and we have no reason to think otherwise)?#It all comes down to: I think people are inherently good and willing to help each other. The author thinks not lmao. It is what it is#But I wish you could see t/pn. Where kids are constantly trying to outwit each other in order to OUT-SACRIFICE THEMSELVES for the others lo#I love t/pn it's my life... I miss it#random rambles#And if anyone would like to argue that Dazai specifically set them off to betray each other... Yes I DO understand that's what the story–#is suggesting. I just don't think Dazai - for how good. and infallible he is - is enough to scrape long-term relationships of trust.
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"Though I don't know exactly what you are or what you're up to... My bullets will find you — until then, you best find a casket store in Penacony, and ask the owner to reserve a good quality casket for you, imposter!"
Hardly could get more Western film than this
#That one scene in A Fistful of Dollars#The casket maker doesn't appear that way in Yojimbo if I recall#I love those films so much#Boothill has such a... soft youthful voice? I didn't recognise him at first. His voice is beautiful though#I talk too much#Boothill#The way he awkwardly laughs a little and asks almost shy 'Did I make a mistake?' lmao#I was wondering how he got her number and she gave it to him but gave him Black Swan's?#Or was Black Swan talking about Constance when she mentioned that 'she' who gave Boothill her whereabouts? Or someone else altogether?#He was kind of cute with that 'Did I make a mistake?' haha#'get that forehead clean and wait for me' this man is hilarious and has watched far too many movies xD#'are you asking me to write your will? Sure‚ go ahead' omg stop hahahahaha#'Not quite' responds Black Swan. Truly an elegant lady. I would have mocked him to no end#Hilarious too the idea or possibility of her apparently clocking him by the way he talks#'She's clearly not a Pathstrider of The Hunt. But you are‚ aren't you?'#Of course it could be context but it'd be funny if simplistic perhaps to think it's his manner of speaking lol#'go buy a bottle of Asdana's White Oak and warm it up‚ and I'll raise a glass to you' this man is hilarious and would be unbearable irl xD#I love the idea of an Emanator of Nihility existing despite the impossible. It seems very fitting#Also‚ unrelated‚ but I love Aventurine's little whimpers before his 'Didn't think you'd have the nerve to show yourself'#When Ratio claims he 'is the manager of this task' does he mean as undertaker or something real in the mission?#When he says Aventurine won't be seeing the Strategic Investment Department because he's the manager#did Ratio mean he will be the one dealing with the funeral or that there won't be a funeral at all because he's in charge?#I found this confusing
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Honestly manga Midvalley and trigun 98 Midvalley are basically two different characters
Yea I wanna punch manga Midvalley constantly, but I also find him interesting & a compelling character. The times I've seen 98 Midvalley he just looks so sleazy lmao it makes me REALLY wanna punch him
Tough choices
#speculation nation#thinking about how i have midvalley with a significant role in my fic#& hes currently the character with the most scenes aside from vash bc of it#i have him based Solely on the manga characterization. bc i like him in the manga actually#but then i see 98 midvalley mostly acting as an accessory to Legato's murder sprees via sax solos#& it's like. where's the Realism? the Grumpiness! the utter hatred of his circumstances & fear of the higher powers?!?!?!#manga Midvalley is FASCINATING to me bc he's just like Wolfwood in a way.#caught between these two insane angels' brotherly dispute & hating EVERY second of it#but while Wolfwood rolls with the situation quite well (in large part bc he ends up aligned with Vash & we all know hes a sweetheart)#Midvalley decides he cant handle this anymore and rebels even though he knows it will crash and burn#better to try to live on his own terms than bow to that fucking angel for one more second#even though he knows it will probably kill him. and then it does.#that's fascinating to me!!!! but 98 midvalley feels so 90s anime villain hdkshfjdn#and i just Cant believe they gave him bitches. Midvalley??? with Women??? oh come on just look at him#that man's the kind of gay that refuses to flirt and then wonders why he doesnt get any action#he thinks he's BETTER than dating apps. and then he privately bemoans how alone he is#that or he just doesnt care about romance or sex at All. i could see that too lmfao#bottom line is. Midvalley does not get bitches. he DOESNT. thats just my humble opinion at least.#wow this turned into a ramble. may or may not be prompted by me writing him again. i just have many thoughts about him#trigun spoilers/
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𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒
even in their relationship with you, they still have their moments of jealousy every now and again
⟡ content: zayne/sylus/xavier/rafayel x gn!reader; established relationship; luke & kieran appearance in sylus’ scene; new receptionist in zayne's scene; andrew appearance in xavier's scene; a little silly and a lot fluffy; 0.8–1k words per scene
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ZAYNE ⟡
Every situation requires an assessment to determine the most logical course of action. Zayne embodied this statement in his work, and even in parts of his relationship with you. One such part was when it came to jealousy. In all his assessments, 99% of the time, there was no threat, and, therefore, no intervention required. In any case, if a guy were to approach you in such a way, he trusted you entirely as well to not entertain him. However, as he opened his office door to call you from the waiting room, he was confronted by that 1%.
The new receptionist hired to work alongside Yvonne was young, charming, and far too friendly. Especially towards you. You stopped by quite regularly. Sometimes for your scheduled check-in appointments, and oftentimes to simply visit Zayne during his downtime. That was enough for the young man to recognise you, his energy ignited by your presence.
Zayne could only see your side profile as you stood by the receptionist desk, engaged in a conversation with the young man. You appeared to be all smiles with him today. Whatever story he was telling seemed to be so thrilling. Zayne’s face remained calm, aside from the twitch of his jaw when he clenched his teeth. If anybody had been watching, they would have likely jumped at such a sign of vexation by the cardiac surgeon.
Until that point, he thought he had known what jealousy was. He had read it in books and seen it in TV shows, all of which portrayed jealousy leading to several outbursts and stand-offs. However, as he felt something rising from the pit of his stomach and burning in his chest, he understood that the purest kind of it now flared inside him. It was a dangerous emotion that clouded his mind and, before he knew it, his feet had carried him right to your side.
Mr. Chatterbox regarded Zayne with disbelief at his approach, standing up to properly greet him.
“Doc! What a rare sight seeing you personally greet a patient at the desk.”
Zayne paid only a cursory glance and the slightest nod of acknowledgement to him before his attention was narrowed on you.
“If you’d like to come in now, Y/N,” Zayne said, his voice smooth and warm.
You nodded. “Of course.”
As you walked, he placed his hand at the small of your back, pulling you closer to him by just a fraction. He turned his head to the side, enough so the young man could see his sharp eyes. Zayne wasn’t one for outbursts, so he hoped this calculated display was enough of a warning.
Watching Dr. Zayne disappear with you into his office, the receptionist muttered to himself, “Why does it feel chillier in here than before?”
Yvonne, a bystander to everything that just occurred, quietly approached her freshly hired colleague from behind. She delt a swift smack on his head with the edge of her palm. He yelped out in exaggerated pain, rubbing at the spot as if she had just given him a bruise.
“Could you be anymore oblivious…” she sighed, shaking her head. Her gaze then turned fiery as she began to scold, “And how many times have I told you to stop yammering around patients!?”
At the sound of Yvonne’s voice, he immediately redirected his efforts. Not even addressing his colleague’s prior criticism, he clasped his hands together.
“Miss Yvonne! How are you doing on this lovely–”
“Fax this, please,” she interrupted, holding a referral letter up directly to his face.
He gave a mock shiver, taking the paper from Yvonne’s hand. “So cold in this division.”
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“It seemed like you were making good conversation with our new hire,” Zayne commented, closing the door behind him.
You breathed a laugh. “He’s quite chatty. I guess it’s good to have someone so energetic working at the desk.”
That sensation within Zayne turned molten, though, you couldn’t have known with the coolness of his palm. What would be his intervention here? Maybe he needed to have a stern conversation with the young man, or perhaps he had to be more obvious in his affections towards you. He could never match the energy the receptionist had, so it would be impossible to achieve such a feat.
In his momentary stewing, you let out an uncertain hum.
“To be honest, he kept talking about himself... it was a little overwhelming,” you confessed sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “I couldn’t be impolite to him, so I just smiled and nodded at whatever he said!”
Instantly, Zayne’s mind cleared. His jealousies dwindled into nothing more than ashes. A part of him even felt silly at how intense he was feeling just a few seconds ago.
Unexpectedly, he rested his head on your shoulder with a sigh. Your eyes widened with confusion before you chuckled.
“Isn’t this a bit unprofessional, doctor?” you teased.
“Feel free to file a complaint to the hospital’s human resource division,” he retorted, not missing a beat.
Your mirth readily turned into concern at the affectionate display.
“But seriously, Zayne, is everything okay?” you asked, poking at his cheek.
Zayne lifted his head. He seemed to be, surprisingly, relieved. Though, you couldn’t figure out what exactly he would be relieved about.
“Yes, everything is perfect now.”
SYLUS ⟡
There was nothing that a deathly glare or a good shove couldn’t do to resolve Sylus’ jealousy. Warding off any unsuspecting parties was his speciality, especially if it involved them getting too close to you. However, the leader of Onychinus was thrown for a loop when his very own henchmen were sparking these feelings.
“You are… going out with Y/N today?” Sylus spoke slowly, as if sounding out syllables to a baby. “Is what I’m hearing correct, Luke?”
Kieran not-so-subtly kicked Luke in the shin. Luke stifled a groan. Rather than be on their way to Linkon (and to you), they were here being confronted by the boss. It was an unfortunate slip-up from Luke as they were about to leave, which caused Sylus to sternly halt their exit.
“Yes, boss.” Luke replied, trying to stand up straighter with only one good shin.
“And for what reason exactly?” Sylus asked.
Luke resignedly sighed.
“They wanted someone to–”
“Help clean their apartment!” Kieran quickly finished.
He turned and gave a pointed glare to his twin brother. You better follow along, it seemed to threaten.
Luke began nodding profusely, “Yep! Gosh, boss, you wouldn’t even believe the mess!”
“This type of menial work was probably too peasantry for you–”
“So, they invited us instead!”
Sylus’ henchmen stood there, looking quite proud of themselves and their innocent display. Sylus rolled his eyes at their dramatics. Luke and Kieran could do any task Sylus asked, no matter how dirty, and yet they were quite terrible at lying. Maybe he needed to teach them some skills in deception later. He dismissed them sharply with a wave of his hand.
“Go. Make sure to return before I leave this evening.”
The henchmen bowed, preparing to scurry away, but before they could, Sylus spoke again,
“Don’t take your eyes off them for even a second, do you understand?”
They turned back to Sylus and nodded, bowing once again.
“And–”
Sylus’ continual interruption of their exit left them in an awkward position right at the threshold of his office.
“–they don’t enjoy mopping, so I trust one of you will play the gentleman and take up that task.”
“You got it, boss.” Luke and Kieran said in unison before finally departing.
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Sylus was planning on sleeping before your date in the evening, but that was completely out of the question now.
Hanging out with Luke and Kieran? To, supposedly, clean? He knew what they had told him was a lie. However, a small, burning part of him was frustrated. If that had been the truth, he naturally would have been the far better partner. With the time you had shared together, surely you had not so quickly found his own company lacklustre in comparison to his henchmen. He could have been in your apartment, with you, cleaning together. Instead, he was in his mansion, alone, and grumpy. Grumpy enough to open his tablet, and switch to his camera feeds connected to Mephisto.
He had asked if his skilled companion could do a bit of reconnaissance at your apartment to confirm what this ragtag trio were doing. As the camera feed loaded, he saw that your home was empty. Internally, he cursed. Mephisto flew down to street level, and, as luck would have it, three familiar people stepped out of the apartment complex. Luke and Kieran were there (wearing face masks and caps that disguised their faces as opposed to their crow masks) along with you.
Sylus sat up in his bed.
He followed this trio as they walked to a nearby clothing store. Unfortunately, it would be considered odd for a crow to be indoors, so all Mephisto could do was perch atop a bench in front of the establishment and watch the three of you retreat inside behind the automatic glass doors.
Tossing the tablet aside onto the silk sheets, Sylus crossed him arms. If the thought of not being able to clean with you had made him grumpy, then seeing that he was not invited to shop for clothes with you truly made his blood boil with jealousy. As he attempted to get some rest, he thought about casual ways to mention on this evening’s date how he could rent out entire department stores for you if you wanted.
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Sylus tapped his dress shoes rhythmically against the floor, awaiting your door to be opened after he had rung the bell. He had arrived at exactly 5 o’clock to pick you up, and although he was always well put together, he put in a little extra effort on his hair this time.
He heard the door unlock, slowly opening to only reveal your head poking out. He cocked his head to the side.
“Sweetie, are you trying to hide from me?”
“Mmm, think of it more like I’m building anticipation,” you explained with a grin on your face.
Sylus laughed fondly. He leaned his own head against the wall beside the doorframe, turning to look at you.
“Consider me sufficiently anticipated,” he replied. “Now, may I see you?”
You gestured for him to move back so you could give a grand reveal.
“I just bought this today.”
The door swung open, and you stepped outside.
“How do I look?”
Very little could surprise Sylus; however, you had utterly blindsided him in this moment. You were wearing a dress that Sylus didn’t recognise from your current wardrobe. He knew then that the outing with Luke and Kieran had been to surprise him with a new dress for your date.
Flowy, ruby fabric draped against your figure, reaching down to your ankles. His eyes followed the heart-shaped neckline that framed the pearl necklace that rested at your collarbones, matching the accessory in your hair. All this prepared just for him.
“You look absolutely radiant,” he breathed.
Closing the distance, he snaked a hand around you, toying with the smooth material under his warm fingertips. Seeing how gorgeous you were almost alleviated his earlier frustrations, until he came to a sour realisation.
“Though, I can’t help but be… annoyed that Luke and Kieran saw this surprise before me.”
You bit your lip. Of course, Sylus had figured out what his henchmen were doing throughout the day. His voice grew deeper as his lips brushed against your ear.
“Next time, kitten, you should invite me to go with you instead.”
XAVIER ⟡
It took very little to spark Xavier’s jealousy, as much as the man himself would want to deny it. Strangers, colleagues, and acquaintances could cause his unassuming appearance to transform into a hostile front if they got too friendly with you. But today was another ordinary workday, so there would surely be no situation where Xavier should feel such a way.
There had been a string of quiet days at the Hunters Association that meant that Team Alpha could finally make use of their office. Namely you and Xavier, who usually were assigned to field missions. Your neglected chair squeaked under your weight as you stretched your body, lifting your arms high into the air then relaxing. Twirling the pen in your hand, the words on page about recent energy fluctuations seemed to swirl in your vision. Xavier turned from his own desk to observe you.
“I’m going to get a drink from the vending machine.” He stood up, the wheels of his chair clattering against the hard floor. “Do you want one too?”
“Green tea, please,” you replied.
“Warm or cold?”
“Cold,” you decided. You clapped your hands against your face, squishing your cheeks. “I need to shock my system to wake it up.”
Xavier’s face broke into a smile. “Sounds like a good plan.”
Before he could walk away, a voice called out your name.
“Morning Y/N!”
Xavier narrowed his eyes slightly at the approaching man.
He was tall (though not as tall as himself), with ashy hair precisely tousled to reveal his forehead, and friendly eyes. Xavier’s senses heightened in the same way as they would in a battle with a Wanderer. The unfamiliar man had greeted you with such familiarity. Only two words had been spoken, yet it was enough to irk Xavier. If he had called you less kindly, that would have helped to lower his guard.
To his surprise, the man turned his attention towards him.
“Ah, you must be Xavier! I’ve heard much about you.” He extended his hand. “I’m Andrew, head of the Data Analysis sector.”
Xavier stared at Andrew’s hand for a moment—blinking and discerning. Head of Data Analysis… Is this some kind of power move? He gave the hand a brusque shake.
“Excuse me, I need to get some drinks for the two of us,” he said, turning on his heel and walking away to the office’s break room.
Andrew furrowed his brows as he watched Xavier leave.
“Quite elusive, isn’t he?”
You shook your head.
“Maybe when you first meet him. But once you get to know him, you’ll see just how reliable he is.”
The tenderness in your tone came unconsciously to you, but it always happened when you spoke about Xavier to others. Especially towards those who might misinterpret his neutral disposition.
Small talk continued over the next minute between you and Andrew, until he suddenly looked at you with a slight frown.
“There’s an eyelash on your face,” he said, pointing vaguely to the left side of your face.
You used your fingers to swipe across your skin, yet Andrew still shook his head.
“No, no. It’s right here.”
He brought his finger closer to show you exactly where it was.
The dull thud of plastic bottles falling to the ground could be heard a couple of metres beside you. A blinding light zipped through the air, alongside a gust of air that swept your hair back. Before you could even register what had caused this phenomenon, Xavier appeared between you and Andrew. Your wide eyes stared at his hand gripping Andrew’s wrist.
“Xavier?” you called in surprise.
Xavier seemed equally shocked at how instinctually he acted. One moment he had seen Andrew’s hand move closer to your face, and the next he was face-to-face with him.
“I-I don’t know what came over me.” He released Andrew from his iron hold. “I'm really sorry”.
With a small bow, Xavier braced himself, ready to receive the full brunt of anger from the Head of Data Analysis. He shuddered at the thought that this might be reported to Captain Jenna. Instead, Andrew shook his head calmly.
“Don’t worry about it.” He gave an understanding smile, observing your worried expression towards Xavier. “In fact, I do believe this was my bad.”
The abandoned green tea bottles rolled lazily beside the desks, and Andrew picked them up. “I’ll be heading off to my office now, I’ll see you two later.”
Handing the drinks to you and Xavier, you both expressed your thanks. As Andrew left, you turned to Xavier.
“Xavier,” you spoke slowly, “what exactly was that?”
He scratched his head and diverted his eyes from you.
“I saw he was getting too close, and my body moved faster than my head…”
It was hard not to react at how adorably guilty he looked.
What am I going to do with you? You thought, sighing in affectionate amusement.
“I know how it must have looked from afar, but there was just an eyelash on my face that Andrew was trying to point out,” you explained.
Again, you swiped a finger across your face. “I still don’t know where it is though.”
Your movements were halted as Xavier gently grasped your wrist. He leaned in close, examining your face. You felt his light touch against your eyelids as he took off the lash.
“You know, there’s a superstition about this,” he began, handing the lash to you.
“They say if you have a stray eyelash, you can use it to make a wish.”
He cleared his throat, the tips of his ears turning red believing his next words to perhaps sound a little childish.
“So, I wanted to be the one who would give you that wish.”
RAFAYEL ⟡
Rafayel’s jealousy would make itself known to you the moment he felt it. Though he would hide it between clever, teasing remarks, it was cute to see how clingy he got when it happened. And there was no better situation to provoke such feelings than at a gala hosted by Flux Arts. Admittedly, it was difficult to get the artist himself to attend these gatherings that featured one of his own paintings, so Thomas had to devise a convincing reason for him to go. That reason, naturally, being you. If you were his plus one, Rafayel could certainly face any battle.
You stood in front of Rafayel’s painting now as he had left you for the moment to speak with Thomas. Even after being exposed to his work many times (both mid progress and completed) they still managed to instil awe within you.
“Fascinating, isn’t it?”
The voice pulled you back into the room, and you looked over at the stranger beside you. He appeared to be slightly older and was likely a wealthy, enthusiastic patron of the gala.
“Yes, it is,” you agreed. “It’s one of my favourites.”
In truth, you favoured it because you were there when Rafayel painted it. From start to finish, he had you at his side. Though abstract, upon closer inspection, one could extrapolate details of a city with glorious towers and vibrant, thriving coral. It held a special place in your heart.
The man’s eyes were glued to the painting.
“Rafayel truly is an artist you get once in a lifetime.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the sincerity in the gentleman’s compliment.
“It’s hypnotising to witness the scenes he creates,” he continued. “He seems to bare his soul in each painting.”
“He is quite an expressive man,” you commented, breathing a small laugh.
From picking out the perfect outfits to the perfect paint materials, passion infused every part of Rafayel’s life, including in his relationship with you. It was one of his greatest traits you adored about him.
The familiarity in your tone was lost on the man, who believed you to only be an admirer of the artist, and not an admirer of a different sort.
The conversation continued, and you discovered the man to be a professor of history. He had discovered Rafayel through his own interest in ancient civilisations such as Lemuria. You couldn’t help but beam with pride listening to the man speak so highly of Rafayel, and the impression his works had left on him. The man soon took his leave, thanking you for entertaining his enthusiastic ramblings.
You were so engrossed that you didn’t notice Rafayel with his arms folding behind you. He graciously gave you a few seconds to detect his presence. Though, his frown grew as you continued to be, supposedly, too starstruck from your earlier conversation with that stranger.
He cleared his throat loudly.
You spun around at the familiar voice.
“Raf! How long have you been standing there for?”
He shrugged with as much nonchalance as he could muster. However, anyone with two eyes could have guessed the annoyance on his face.
“Enough to hear the last bits of your conversation.” He strode to your side, arms still folded tight across his chest. “Found interesting company so soon after I left?”
You closed the gap between the two of you with a step, preparing to explain the true nature of that conversation. Not letting you interrupt his sulking, Rafayel continued,
“I need to be more wary. There are too many people here wanting to whisk you away from me.”
As soon as you walked into the gallery arm-in-arm, people’s eyes were drawn to the two of you. At his mention that you were the centre of attention, you had dismissed it, saying it was him everyone took interest in.
Tilting your head to the side, you placed your hands your hips, almost as if to say: Are you going to let me speak?
Rafayel quickly conceded, spluttering out his next question, “And why were you being so chummy with that stranger, anyway?”
“That stranger said he was a professor of history specialising in ancient cities, and that he’s been an admirer of your works for a long time,” you answered.
Poking at his cheek with your finger, you attempted to remove his pout that remained affixed on his face.
“I was being chummy because he was complimenting your work! It made me happy to hear that people have such high praise for you and your paintings.”
Rafayel’s pout disappeared.
“It just made me think… how proud I am to have you as my partner,” you smiled. “You leave a profound impression on people.”
Your words resonated in his head. He stood motionless, with only the slow blink of his eyes.
His lack of reaction made you flush.
“Ah, that was pretty cheesy, wasn’t it? I’m sorry–”
The apology stopped short in your throat as you were scooped into a tight hug. Rafayel’s arms wrapped around your waist. A few gala attendees looked over at the young couple with admiring gazes, wondering what could have happened that would cause such open affection.
Rafayel nuzzled his forehead into the curve of your neck, mumbling right by your ear, “Jeez, here I was trying to be jealous…”
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#odorawrites#admittedly i thought the jealousy scenes i would write would be more dramatic/high stakes (?)#but when i started to put words on the page i was drawn to writing scenes set in their normal day-to-day lives!#i thought these were still fun hehe i hope this is an enjoyable read <3#love and deepspace#l&ds#lads#love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#zayne love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#zayne x reader#zayne x y/n#zayne x you#xavier x reader#xavier x y/n#xavier x you#rafayel x reader#rafayel x y/n#rafayel x you#l&ds fluff#zayne fluff#xavier fluff#rafayel fluff
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ARE YOU JEALOUS?
Summary: Sassy!Kook!Reader gets jealous when she sees Rafe Cameron close with another girl...
Content: neck sucking (?), childhood friends to lovers, kind of mean!rafe in one scene, bullying lol, suggestive towards the end but just a tiny bit.
Words Count: 5.5k ... i don't know what the fuck happened...
Aliyah's talking: IDK if i fw this or not but i hope yall will lolz <3 Thank you so much for the love on Protective Instincts btw!!!! I am so grateful and surprised that many of you all enjoyed it. Hope u'll enjoy this one too 🩷
Sunlight streamed into Sarah’s room, casting a soft, golden glow over the space as you lounged on her bed, idly flipping through a magazine. You both were sprawled across the plush, yellow covers, surrounded by half-empty bags of chips and scattered makeup palettes—evidence of an afternoon well spent. Sarah was perched by the vanity, trying on different lip glosses, all of which looked beautiful on her, but she insisted on which one was the best.
“So, tell me again,” she started, holding up a tube of shimmery pink gloss and squinting at it thoughtfully. “Why don’t you go for Jake? I mean, he’s cute, he’s smart—”
“And boring. He is boring,” you interjected, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “Come on, Sarah, you know how I am. I need someone with a little more… edge…? Someone that could handle me but also play the game, you know?”
Sarah smirked, setting the lip gloss down and turning to face you. “Edge… Handling your attitude… I’m afraid that weirdly sounds like someone we both know.”
“You think you’re so funny, huh?” you said, shooting her a mock glare.
She laughed, completely unbothered. "What? I’m just stating the facts!" She shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "As much as I hate to admit it, my brother definitely fits both criteria, so…”
You were listening to her but stopped when your phone buzzed. Out of habit, you unlocked it and opened the notification from Instagram; Topper posted a new story and you watched it. The screen was filled with a shaky video of the beach, the late afternoon sun casting golden light over everything. You recognized some people, but your attention zeroed in on Rafe, right in the center of it all. He was grinning, his arm slung around a girl who was laughing and pulling him closer, like they were the only two people on the beach.
You felt a quick, unwelcome pang in your chest.
“Hey, what’s got you so interested?” Sarah’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you glanced back at her, masking any hint of emotion with a casual smirk.
You locked the screen and tossed the phone aside. “Nothing. Just Topper’s beach parties and Instagram stories.”
She gave you a skeptical look, folding her arms. “Don’t lie to me. I know you better than yourself, what did you see in that story, Y/N?”
You hesitated, but then shrugged, trying to play it off. “Rafe was at the party with some girl. A new girl. It’s not a big deal.”
“Ah, I see,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “You know he’s always messing around with someone new. But… I thought you didn’t care about what he was up to.”
“I don’t,” you said, a bit too quickly, crossing your arms. “He can do whatever the hell he wants.”
“Right. So, you don’t care at all?”
You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Look, I just don’t get what’s so special about him that girls keep falling over themselves to be around him. That’s all.”
She nodded with a giggle. “Yeah, no, I definitely—”
“And doesn’t it bother anyone that he’s got a new girl every week? I mean, if I were one of those girls who actually liked him, I’d be furious. Wouldn’t you, Sar?” You barely paused before continuing, not even waiting for her answer. “It’s honestly just sad because Rafe really isn’t even all that. Sure, he can be fun and nice sometimes, but he’s also a huge asshole with a big fucking ego. Is it just me, or is everyone blind to that?”
Sarah was quiet for a moment, studying you with a thoughtful expression before she finally spoke up. “You know what? I think we could both use a break from overthinking anything about the opposite sex. How about we get out of here and grab some smoothies? I heard there’s a new spot by the marina.”
You nodded, grateful that she didn’t talk about your little moment. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Sarah grabbed her bag, giving you one last teasing smile. “Smoothies and maybe some retail therapy afterward?”
“Sounds like a plan,” you replied, letting the idea of a carefree afternoon replace the lingering thoughts of Rafe. Whatever he was up to, it was his business. You weren’t about to let it ruin your day.
The soft hum of the fridge and the rhythmic clinking of silverware filled the kitchen as you, Sarah, and Rafe gathered around the island, your weekly routine as ingrained as the family photos lining the walls. The night was settling in, casting a cozy stillness over the room. You were only half-listening as Sarah rambled on about her weekend plans, your attention instead focused on pushing pasta around on your plate, not particularly hungry.
Rafe sat across the counter, leaning back in his chair with an ease that always seemed to irritate you. He had been quiet, too but you knew he wouldn’t last long. Sure enough, he broke the silence.
“Alright,” he began, raising an eyebrow at you, “what’s up with you tonight? You’re awfully quiet.”
You didn’t look up, keeping your tone purposefully casual. “Nothing’s up,” you replied, hoping he’d let it go. But you knew better.
“Come on,” he pressed, tilting his head in that infuriatingly smug way. “Where’s that feisty attitude you always have? Usually, by now, you’d have already made at least five smartass comments about my shirt or something.”
You let out a short, unimpressed laugh, finally meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I just ran out of things to say about you, Rafael. Ever think of that?”
He grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Nah. You’ve got an endless supply of attitude, Y/N. I’d be shocked if you were ever actually out of material.” He took a sip from his glass, watching you over the rim with that familiar, infuriating smirk.
Sarah shot you a look, her mouth twisted in a tired smile as she mouthed, here we go. She had seen this routine a thousand times before.
“You really think I spend that much time thinking about you?” you fired back, folding your arms over your chest and fixing him with an unimpressed stare.
“Oh, I don’t think,” he replied smoothly, leaning in a little closer, “I know. Admit it. I’m in your head, aren’t I?”
You let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back in your chair as you tossed him an indifferent look. “Right. You’re the center of my world, Rafe. Can’t you tell?”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “You know, when you’re this quiet, it’s like a fucking flashing neon sign saying, ‘Something’s up’. Might as well tell me now.”
You rolled your eyes. You knew that engaging with him like this was a slippery slope—once you started, he never let up. But for some reason, tonight, you couldn’t help yourself.
“Honestly, I don’t have the energy for your little mind games tonight,” you said, trying to sound as bored as possible. “So, if you’re expecting me to entertain you, you’re gonna be disappointed.”
“Oh, come on. I don’t believe that for a second,” he shot back, leaning back casually in his chair as if he had all the time in the world to wear you down. “You love this. Sparring with me? It’s basically your favorite hobby.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. "Didn’t realize my silence was such a tragedy for you.”
“Oh, it is. I mean, where else am I supposed to get my daily dose of attitude?” He leaned back, feigning a pout. “Come on, you’re no fun like this. Did something happen?”
You rolled your eyes, twirling your fork in the pasta as if it held your entire focus. “Why would you care? I’m sure you have more important things to worry about. Maybe more girl—”
Sarah let out a sigh, interrupting before Rafe could respond. “Honestly, do you two ever get tired of this? We’re supposed to be having dinner, and it feels like I’m watching some sort of weird rom-com.”
You shot Sarah an exasperated look. “There’s nothing romantic about this, Sar. It’s called surviving.”
“Right,” Sarah said, clearly unconvinced. “But could you maybe survive without the constant bickering? Just once?”
Rafe smirked, clearly unfazed by Sarah’s comment as he turned back to you. “I don’t know. I think she secretly enjoys it. You should see how she lights up when she gets going.”
“Fuck off,” you muttered, taking a long sip from your glass and hoping it would mask the heat you could feel rising in your cheeks.
He watched you with an amused glint in his eye, clearly picking up on your discomfort. “A little defensive, aren’t we? I mean, I’m just stating the obvious here. You’ve been on edge all night. Care to share with the class what’s really bothering you?”
You set your glass down with a little more force than necessary, fixing him with a glare. “You really think everything’s about you, don’t you?”
“Not everything,” he replied, shrugging casually. “Just the things that involve you. Because, for some reason, every time you’re in a mood, it usually has something to do with me.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but then closed it again, unsure of how to respond without giving anything away. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hit a nerve, even if he had.
“What’s the matter, princess?” he continued, pushing his plate aside as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did something happen between you and Jake, huh? I thought you two were casually talk—”
You groaned, frustrated that he’d brought Jake into it. “There’s nothing to say about Jake. I’m just tired, okay? Not everything has to be about some guy.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” Rafe replied, his tone laced with a hint of smugness. “But I’d say you’re a little more…on edge than usual. So, it has to be about that guy, right…”
“Jake’s got nothing to do with this,” you said, your tone steady. “Unlike you, he actually knows how to mind his own business.”
Well, you’re just lying because you’ve never taken the time to actually learn about Jake and what type of person he was. As bitchy as it sounded, you were using him as a distraction.
You stared at him, hoping your silence would be enough to make him drop it. But, of course, he didn’t.
Rafe crossed his arms as he studied you, his gaze never wavering. “So, you’re saying you prefer a guy who lets you get away with whatever you want, then?”
You scoffed. “No, Rafe. I am saying I prefer a guy who doesn’t feel the need to stick his nose into everything I do. You know, a guy who’s secure enough to let me be without constantly needing to provoke me.”
“Yeah, I see,” he replied, nodding softly. “So, basically, you’re looking for someone boring. Someone who doesn’t challenge you, who just lets you coast by. Am I right?”
You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “You think you know me so well, don’t you? Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron. I can find someone else to annoy me if I really wanted to.”
Rafe’s eyes darkened, but that infuriating smirk stayed in place, like he thrived on every bit of tension between you. He cocked an eyebrow, leaning forward, his voice a low, taunting whisper. “Oh yeah? Who, exactly? Jake? He’s perfect for you—goody-two-shoes, never steps out of the fucking line. Because, let’s be honest, you’d crush him. He’d never call you out, never push you.” He paused, and there was a bitterness beneath his words, hidden but unmistakable. “He’d be safe.”
A bitter smile twisted your lips, the pain creeping into your voice despite your best efforts. “At least Jake knows how to be respectful. He wouldn’t stoop to tearing me down just to get a rise. He wouldn’t need to.”
Rafe scoffed, his amusement tinged with a hint of anger. “Respectful? Fuck that. You want someone to play nice and tell you what you want to hear, go right ahead. But I think we both know that’s not what you really want.” He took a step closer, his gaze fierce, challenging. “You think I’m the bad guy because I’m not afraid to tell you the truth. I don’t play pretend. I’m not here to tell you sweet lies—I’d rather see who you really are, even if that means pissing you off.”
You narrowed your eyes, fury blazing in your chest. He was looking right at you, like he could see through every layer you tried so hard to put up. But there was something deeper in his gaze, a flicker of something that made your heart race even as anger burned within you. And you hated that he could do that—make you feel so exposed, so raw, yet so alive all at once.
But to him, this was just another game. He thrived on your frustration, on the way he could get under your skin with just a few well-placed words. It was a twisted power play, a battle neither of you were willing to lose. And for a moment, the air between you was charged, almost electrifying, the tension so thick it was nearly suffocating.
You wanted to hate him, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right—if he really did see through to the parts of you that no one else dared to touch.
But that only made you angrier, and you felt a surge of resentment rise within you, pushing you over the edge. With a sudden flash of fury, you slammed your fists onto the table, the sound echoing through the room, your voice sharp and cutting. “You know what? Fuck you, Rafe Cameron.”
Without another word, you turned and stormed out.
The sound reverberated through the Cameron household, leaving a heavy silence. Rafe stood there, fists clenched, trying to swallow down the mix of anger and something else—something that felt dangerously close to longing.
Sarah raised an eyebrow at her brother. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”
Rafe shot her a look, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “You don’t get it, Sarah. She’s… She’s infuriating.”
But then he hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the door you had just stormed out of. The edge of his lips twitched in a way that was all too vulnerable, too honest. “But there’s something about her,” he admitted, his voice softening. “She’s fierce and passionate. When she’s angry, it’s like she’s alive in a way I can’t help but be drawn to. It’s frustrating, but… but she’s not afraid to challenge me, to call me out.” He paused, searching for the right words, his heart racing.
“And so that makes it right for you to annoy her to that point?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t help it. I want her to see the real me, too. It’s like I can’t breathe when she’s around and then—when she leaves? It’s like the air just… disappears.” He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of confusion and desire etched across his features. “She challenges me in ways I never expected, and it drives me insane, but I can’t help but want more of her.”
“Wow,” Sarah said softly, her voice full of surprise. “I didn’t think I’d see the day Rafe Cameron talked about someone like this—but mess around with her like that one more time, and I’ll hurt you.”
The sun spilled into your bedroom, casting a warm glow that felt inviting. But you stirred, still brimming with the tumult of emotions from last night. Rafe’s words echoed in your mind—his teasing, the way he pushed your buttons, and the way your heart raced despite your annoyance. You groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over your head, hoping to drown out the memories.
But then laughter broke through the haze of your thoughts. It was bright and carefree, drifting in through the open window. Intrigued, you tossed off the blanket and slid out of bed, your curiosity piqued. A quick glance outside revealed the source of the joyful sounds: Sarah, Wheezie, and Rafe were out by the pool, splashing water and playfully throwing each other around.
Rafe, wearing nothing but swim trunks that hung low on his hips, was the centerpiece of the scene, effortlessly drawing your gaze. His tanned skin glimmered, accentuating the muscles that rippled as he dove and surfaced in the water, laughter spilling from his lips, infectious and buoyant.
You caught yourself ogling him, eyes roaming over the way the water dripped from his hair, the way his body moved with ease and confidence. It wasn’t fair, really—how could someone be so effortlessly captivating? The sun caught the edges of his grin as he tossed Wheezie playfully into the pool, the sound of her laughter ringing out like music.
You were lost in the moment, so caught up in the heat of his gaze that you didn’t even notice the way your thighs clenched together, craving the contact that felt just out of reach. All you could think about was the overwhelming desire to touch him—everywhere. You imagined your hands gliding over his toned chest, feeling the hard flex of his biceps beneath your fingertips, tracing the lines of his powerful arms as they wrapped around your body, waist, and ass pulling you closer.
You wanted him. God, did you want him.
Why did he have this effect on you? Why was he constantly invading your thoughts, even now?
A sudden buzz from your phone pulled you from your reverie. You grabbed it from the bedside table and saw a message from Sarah: “Get your ass out here! We’re in the pool, it’s fun! You’ll want to join us!”
A smile tugged at your lips at Sarah's enthusiasm, but a moment of hesitation passed as you remembered the tension of last night. Still, you didn’t want to be the odd one out. With a determined sigh, you pulled yourself away from the window and began to get ready.
You rummaged through your drawers, searching for that one bikini that made you look stunning and earned you a handful of compliments every time you wore it. Finally, you found it: a deep emerald green that contrasted perfectly against your skin tone. It was cut high, accentuating your legs, the top was daring, showing just enough to leave to the imagination. You paired it with a pair of denim shorts.
You headed towards the back door, nerves swirling in your stomach. As you stepped outside, the head of the sun hit you like a wave, and the sounds of laughter grew louder.
“You’re awake!” Sarah exclaimed, her voice bright and cheerful. “I thought we’d have to drag you out here!”
You laughed lightly, feeling a playful energy surge within you. “I’m here, aren’t I?” You shot back, trying to keep your tone light as you made your way toward the pool.
Wheezie exclaimed, eyes wide of admiration. “Wow, Y/N! Look at you!”
“Thanks!” you replied, trying to play it cool but secretly loving the attention. You glanced at Rafe, who had turned to face you, and your heart raced at the sight of him leaning against the pool’s edge, water cascading down his toned body.
His gaze lingered on you, a mix of surprise and appreciation playing across his features. “Well, well, if it isn’t the queen herself,” he teased, that infuriating smirk stretching across his face. “Nice of you to join us.”
You rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, feigning indifference as you busied yourself with anything but him. The events of last night were still fresh in your mind, a heated clash that left you reeling and more than a little irritated. You were determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“Oh, so I get the silent treatment?” he drawled, his voice dripping with playful disbelief. “I’m devastated,” he added, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly irresistible smirk that always made your heart flutter.
Instead, you focused on Sarah and Wheezie, who were gleefully splashing water at each other. You couldn’t help but feel the pull of their energy.
Hours rolled by and you settled onto a lounge chair, you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, the heat of his gaze igniting your skin in a way that both thrilled and annoyed you. He was still in the pool, looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. You didn’t know but you were driving him crazy with that attitude of yours, this whole ignoring thing and your fucking bikini.
Sarah and Wheezie went inside the house to prepare some snacks and drinks for us because we were getting hungry and thirsty, leaving only Rafe and you.
You pulled your phone, pretending to scroll through social media, anything to distract yourself from the way your heart raced at his presence. A notification lit up your phone, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jake’s name flash across the screen. The excitement surged through you as you opened the message:
"Hey, gorgeous. I really like you, and I’d love to take you out sometime. You in?"
He was cute—way too cute.
A grin crept onto your lips, and for once, you allowed yourself to enjoy the attention from someone who wasn’t toying with your emotions. Someone who actually seemed genuine. No games, no mixed signals. Just interest. The kind that felt refreshing after dealing with someone who never seemed to know what he wanted.
You barely had time to revel in it before Rafe’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and demanding. “What’s got you smiling like that?”
Your grip tightened on your phone instinctively, and you flicked your gaze up to him, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, nothing. Just a friend,” you said, slipping your phone screen down against your thigh.
Rafe wasn’t buying it. His eyes narrowed, skepticism written all over his face. “Just a friend, huh?” His voice had that dangerous edge to it, the one you knew too well. “Funny, you don’t usually smile like that over friends.”
You felt his eyes burning into you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. “Really? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” you teased, biting back the smirk threatening to break free.
Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Who was it?”
“Like I said, just a friend,” you repeated, your voice smooth, but now you were teasing on purpose. You could feel his irritation rising, and part of you enjoyed it. “What, are you jealous or something?”
He scoffed, though you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened. “Why the hell would I be jealous?” he snapped, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you. “I’m just asking a question.”
“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning back and tilting your head, watching him closely. “Right. Just a casual question, huh? Totally doesn’t sound like someone’s jealous.”
His hands were now resting on the edge of the pool, gripping it just a little too tightly. “I’m not jealous,” he repeated, but the way his gaze darted to your phone said otherwise. “But if it’s someone trying to get at you, then yeah, I wanna know. Who is it?”
“Someone,” you said vaguely, enjoying the fact that Rafe was teetering on the edge of losing it. “Someone who’s interested, clearly.”
Rafe’s eyes flared, and the jealousy in his voice became impossible to miss. “Interested in what? You?” His lips curled into a scowl, his muscles tense. “What, you think some random guy’s gonna—”
“Maybe,” you cut in, your smile growing. “Maybe he’s actually straightforward, you know? No mind games, no drama. Just a guy who knows what he wants.”
His brows shot up, the implication stinging. “And you think I don’t know what I want?”
You shrugged, not backing down an inch. “Well, you never seem to make it that clear. Maybe someone else is going to take your place as my—”
The possessiveness in his eyes flared. He pushed himself up out of the pool, water dripping from his shoulders as he moved closer, his presence looming over you. “No one’s stepping up, got it? No one’s taking my place.”
You met his gaze, unflinching, even as your heart raced a little faster. “Oh? And what exactly is your place, Rafe?”
He leaned in, the heat between you practically crackling. “You know damn well where my place is,” he murmured, his voice low, daring, yet with a hint of uncertainty creeping in. “And I’m not about to let some bitch ass slide in because you think I don’t care.”
You smiled, tilting your head, savoring the tension. “Seems like you do care. Maybe more than you want to admit.”
“Because I do care, Y/N,” he murmured softly, swiping his wet thumb across your cheek. “I told you already that I cared way too damn much.”
Rafe’s thumb lingered on your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through your body despite the heat of the day. His eyes held yours, dark and intense, as if he were trying to convey all the words he couldn’t quite say aloud. The air between you was thick, charged with a tension that had been building for far too long.
You swallowed hard, trying to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was a losing battle. “Your way of showing it is fucked, Rafe.”
Your words were meant to cut, but they came out softer than you intended, almost like a challenge. His jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back with some cocky retort, he stepped even closer. The scent of chlorine and his skin invaded your senses, and you couldn’t help but notice how his muscles tensed as he towered over you, dripping with water, his presence commanding.
“I care,” he repeated, his voice lower now, almost a growl. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to your eyes, like he was making a decision in real time. “I care more than you know.”
Before you could muster a reply, his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, your breath hitching as his lips hovered near your ear. “I think you know exactly what my place is,” he murmured, his voice rough with unspoken desire. “And you’re not running from it.”
His breath was hot against your skin, sending a wave of heat cascading down your spine. He didn’t move right away, as if savoring the tension that crackled between you, the nearness, the inevitability of it all. Your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse quickening as his lips brushed, ever so lightly, against the sensitive spot just below your ear.
You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping the fabric of your shorts as your body reacted to him, heat pooling low in your belly. “Rafe…” you whispered, not quite a protest, but not quite giving in either.
But he wasn’t about to back down now. He shifted closer, his mouth grazing the curve of your neck, soft at first, then firmer, the scrape of his teeth making your pulse race. Your skin ignited under his touch, and a low moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.
“You feel that?” he whispered, his lips trailing lower, his voice husky and thick with need. “That’s not some game. That’s real.”
Your body arched toward him of its own accord, your resistance melting as his hands slid down to your waist, fingers pressing firmly into your skin, pulling you closer. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck, his lips teasing, torturing, as they brushed along your collarbone. Every touch, every whisper was setting your nerves alight, and you were dizzy with the intensity of it.
“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying to keep a shred of control, but your voice lacked conviction.
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Maybe,” he agreed, his lips brushing the spot just beneath your ear again, sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. “But you can’t stop thinking about me, can you?”
You hated how right he was. You hated how easily he could unravel you, how even now, you were leaning into his touch, craving more of it. But there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of hearing it.
“Stop being so cocky,” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered with the desire that coursed through you.
But Rafe wasn’t in the mood to stop. His hand slid to your lower back, pulling your body flush against his, the coolness of his skin mingling with your own heat. You could feel the hard lines of his body pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling as his lips grazed your shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin, just enough to make you shudder.
“Admit it,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a deep, rough command. “You want this.”
You closed your eyes, fighting to hold onto your last thread of self-control, but the tension between you was overwhelming, suffocating. His lips moved lower, placing slow, deliberate kisses along your collarbone, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Your breath came in ragged gasps as your body betrayed you, leaning into him, craving the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze, the way he made you feel like the only person in the world.
“Rafe…” you breathed, your voice barely audible, as his hand slid down to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin possessively. You could feel his breath on your neck, his lips hovering just above the place where your pulse raced beneath the surface.
“I want you, Y/N,” he whispered against your skin, his voice raw, filled with the desire that had been simmering between you for what felt like forever. “And I’m not letting anyone else have you.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think better of it, your hands were in his hair, pulling him closer, your body aching for the contact you’d been denying yourself for so long.
Your lips collided with his in a heated rush, all the pent-up tension and desire finally unraveling between you. Rafe’s hands immediately gripped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as he kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. His lips were demanding, rough and hungry, but there was a softness to the way he held you, like he wanted to savor every second. You melted into him, fingers tangling in his wet hair, feeling the slickness of the pool water on his skin as his body pressed against yours.
The taste of him, mixed with the faint tang of chlorine, was intoxicating. It was all-consuming, drowning out every rational thought. He kissed you like he was staking his claim, like he wanted to erase any trace of doubt from your mind, and for a moment, you let him. Your body responded instinctively, arching against his as his hands roamed down your back, gripping you tighter.
When you finally broke apart, both of you gasping for air, Rafe’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper—something more vulnerable. His chest heaved as he looked at you, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “I like you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I like you so much it drives me crazy. No more pretending.”
You stared into his eyes, searching for any hint of the cocky facade he usually wore, but it was gone. This was Rafe stripped bare, no teasing, no arrogance—just raw honesty. It made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the kiss.
Your breath caught in your throat as you considered what he was saying. Could you trust him? Could you really let your guard down and give in to this, knowing how easily he could hurt you?
But before you could overthink it, he kissed you again, slower this time, more deliberate. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache, and all your doubts melted away. At that moment, it didn’t matter what had happened before, or what might happen after. All that mattered was how he made you feel right now—wanted, desired, seen.
Rafe pulled back, his thumb brushing gently against your bottom lip, his eyes flicking between yours. “Tell me you feel it too,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Tell me I’m not the only one. Tell me, princess.”
You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. There was no point in pretending anymore. “You’re not,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “You drive me crazy, Rafe, too—I don’t want to feel this way, but I do.”
His lips curved into a small, triumphant smile, but there was relief in his eyes too, like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for you to say it. “Good,” he murmured, his hand cupping your face as his thumb stroked your cheek. “Because I don’t think I can let you go.”
#aliyahs works#sassy!kook!reader#rafe cameron#obx#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fic#obx rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron prompt#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe x you#rafe fic#outer banks#outer banks x reader#obx x reader#obx season 4
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From hate to love… or something like that
Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader
word count: 15.7k (sorrrryyyy)
warnings: arranged marriage, hate-to-love, mentions of rape, mentions of incest, mentions of suicidal thoughts, drinking alcohol, mommy issues, daddy issues, mentions of sex without love, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), porn with plot (but something cheap, tbh) and I probably forgot something but I think that makes it clear that this shit is not for minors, so MINORS DNI :)
A/N: I started this since the second season premiere started so if you find any canon-like scenes I completely promise it wasn't intentional. I also want to make it clear that you are responsible for what you read and if you don't like something please just let it go, that would be very kind of you!
And this doesn't make me team green at all, I'm a defender of the rightful queen to the death… it's just that her brother is too sexy to ignore 🫦
Enjoy!
taglist (who I thought might be interested): @barcelonaloverf1life @ilovequeen978
FIRST ACT: HATE
Finding a wife for Prince Aegon II was probably one of the most difficult tasks Alicent Hightower had to face.
The engagement with his sister Helaena had been broken after a more tempting offer for the princess, which would get them a permanent alliance with the Lannister house that they couldn’t refuse. Viserys himself had agreed to accept and the queen consort had no choice but to give her little daughter in marriage to a blonde lord. The problem was that her son was left without a fiancée.
Aemond didn't worry her, after all he was growing up quite quickly and she knew that he was more inclined to become a warrior than to fulfill his marital responsibilities. But Aegon, however, was a lost cause.
It was no secret that Alicent had always felt disappointed in her eldest son. He was careless, lazy, and a hopeless alcoholic, qualities that couldn’t be celebrated at all. Now that her beloved father had returned, the queen didn’t hesitate to consult him on the matter, hoping that the man had a solution for the problem that afflicted her, and together they analyzed what was the best option to unite the king's first-born son. Especially after, years ago, Rhaenyra and Daemon got married and moved to Dragonstone indefinitely.
“It must be someone we completely trust, someone who cannot dare to hurt us because they know that their blood is linked to ours.”
The Arryns were loyal to the future queen Rhaenyra and some of the houses south of Vale were too. The Westerlands was the richest section of the Seven Kingdoms and was already secured, so it seemed prudent to the king's hand to go for the next widest section: The Reach. The most formidable options within this area were the Hightower and the Tyrell. Obviously taking the first option would be a waste since the members of that house would support Aegon without complaint due to their kinship, so the decision was made with the direct heir of Highgarden.
King Viserys agreed to the idea without putting up many obstacles, since poppy milk clouded his judgment most of the time and also the affairs of his first son had never interested him much.
The union was sealed as soon as the deal was offered to Lyonel Tyrell, who was extremely happy to be able to assure his family a future with said marriage. It was thus that he gave you, his only daughter, to Prince Aegon II Targaryen.
And the second the boy saw you, he absolutely hated you.
He had come to the idea (very unpleasant, by the way) of marrying his younger sister and now that his mother was forcing him to marry a complete stranger, he couldn't be angrier. In a short time he would turn twenty and it seemed pathetic to him that at that point he would have to offer shows like those before the kingdom. Because the wedding wasn’t simple, of course, but thousands and thousands of guests were present at the banquet that Alicent forced the king to prepare, claiming by saying that he had done the same for Princess Rhaenyra's wedding.
“It is a pleasure to finally see each other, your grace. They have told me a lot about you”
You had said those precise words the first time you had met, when his mother organized a walk so that you could 'get to know each other better', although supervised by her own eyes that were behind you, making sure that her son didn’t commit any indecency. But no matter how sweetly you smiled and spoke them, Aegon could sense that you were lying.
There was hatred in your eyes and a clear resentment towards the life from which you were torn, as if it weren’t an honor to have the opportunity to marry the prince of the seven kingdoms. Your hypocritical words represented an insult to the boy and that is why he decided from the first moment that he would hate you deeply.
With your mere existence you would have deprived him of his freedom, his entertainment, his youth. He would be tied to you for future occasions, he would have to take you to all the events, secure your food, your clothes. share the same roof and pretend to be nice to you in the eyes of others. And, besides, he could have thought of a lot of candidates better than you, physically speaking. Your beauty was quite ordinary for his taste, as if he were looking at any painting; cheap and repetitive.
“I regret to admit that I am not so fortunate, Lady Tyrell. But I am happy for the union of our houses” he lied, in the same way that you had done.
And it was obvious that this didn’t go unnoticed by you, that you had the same critical eye as your recent fiancé but that you sought to maintain composure in the presence of your future mother-in-law.
On the wedding day Aegon had a good time only because he was able to drown himself in monumental quantities of liquor and because he was able to eat as much as he wanted of the exquisite banquet. He didn't even pay a bit of attention to how you looked in the wedding dress that the royal seamstresses had been in charge of making in record time, because when the time came he flattered you superficially and then ignored the matter. The ceremony kiss was the first you shared, and it was so fleeting and awkward that the prince felt disappointed. On the wedding night he was so drunk that he didn't even look at you.
You knew that the unfortunate day would come when you would have to carnally please the young man and the simple thought of being defiled in this way caused you terror and nausea in equal parts.
It was a stranger whom you had married, of whom the only thing you knew was his noble title and name.
In the days following your marriage, unfortunately or fortunately, Aegon didn’t even speak to you. You didn't have to share a room, so it was easier for him to completely ignore you while he went about his ways.
You had to admit that the only good thing about having taken this trip was the beautiful landscapes that King's Landing offered you. Your room had a direct view of Blackwater Bay and you spent several days looking out the window at the beautiful sea. Sometimes you could watch Prince Aemond ride his dragon, and honestly, the size of the beast scared you a little. You hadn't had the chance to observe Aegon in Sunfyre yet but if he was as impressive as Vhagar, then he would be quite a sight.
A week passed, then another and another where you were nothing more than a guest in the palace. You didn't talk to anyone, you ate dinner alone, you barely saw the outside of the castle. Sometimes you went to the Sept, pretending to pray, but really just killing the endless boring hours of the day. You were somewhat lucky if you found Helaena, the most sensible and calm within the royal family, because you had pleasant conversations with her. When you met the queen it was a little more difficult, because she asked you endless questions in which you had to fake the answers. How could you be fulfilling your parenting responsibilities if the capricious prince wouldn't deign to lay a finger on you?
After a month, Alicent seemed to take matters into her own hands and forced her eldest son to take you to sleep in the same room as him. However, Aegon seemed to want to blame you for something you hadn't chosen. He never spoke to you and every time you went to bed, he would stand with his back to you as far away as possible. And as if that weren’t enough, he had explicitly ordered his guards not to allow you to leave the room unless it was in his company. It was his way of punishing you, of getting even for the complaints of his mother and grandfather regarding his lack of interest in marriage.
“My mother wants us to attend a dinner tonight” you were so unaccustomed to hearing his voice addressing you that it took you a second to process what he was telling you “I will talk to the maids to bring you a suitable dress.”
You didn't know what to say. You didn't want to go to that dinner, nor did you want to be with him, or wear one of those tight, annoying dresses. Aegon, noticing your silence, deigned to look at you and in your eyes he could see the aversion you felt for him. It was something difficult to mask and he had seen it on so many faces that it was nothing new.
“As you wish, prince.”
A bitter laugh came from your husband's throat.
“Don't be a hypocrite, for God's sake. I know you hate me as much as I hate you. Save appearances for guests, not in the chambers."
You wouldn’t have had the courage to admit out loud what his majesty had said, but you didn’t dare to contradict him either. You had to play the role of a self-sacrificing and suitable wife for the man if you wanted to keep your honor, but above all your head.
You tried, with all your might, to see some quality in Aegon that you liked so that you could treat him in a better way, which always resulted in something useless. Perhaps if he had been nicer to you, you could have known how to forgive his faults, but even that wasn’t granted to you.
The dinner was mostly family-oriented, with the guest of honor being from House Baratheon whose purpose was to discuss some political matters with the king and queen. Due to his health, Viserys didn’t usually leave his room more than necessary, however, that night the occasion warranted it.
“Lady Tyrell, how is your stay in King's Landing?”
The king had a reputation for being gentle with his guests and was the first person to ask you a personal question, so the smile you showed him was genuine.
“Very pleasant, your grace. The servants treat me as well as possible and I must admit that the views from my room are beautiful. Your dragon is impressive, Prince Aemond, by the way.”
The boy, who wasn't all that expressive, just looked at you for a moment and tilted his head down slightly.
“I'm glad you like it, princess.”
"And my son? How is our Aegon treating you?”
That question was more complicated to answer, since it required expressing a lie. Everyone present focused their attention on you, except your husband who had been staring into nothingness for a long time.
“Very well, my king. He’s a good husband and I am happy to have been able to unite our houses.”
The aforementioned snorted, incredulous at what you were saying at the table, and took a long drink from his glass of wine.
“And I hope very soon you can give us strong and beautiful heirs.”
Although that was intended as a compliment, you felt the weight of that responsibility pressing down on you again.
“I wish the same. It will be an honor to serve the crown and bear the progeny of a house as formidable as yours."
The queen was pleased with your answer and for a moment felt sorry for you. She knew her son well, so deep down she knew that it wasn’t a gift from the gods to be married to him. The rest of the table looked at you curiously, wondering if you were serious, trying to be ironic, or just trying to play the good girl role.
Aegon, as expected, became intoxicated during dinner and when Queen Alicent announced that she was going to retire to sleep you thought it prudent to do the same. Your husband, however, had other wishes.
“Stay here,” he asked, his voice serious.
When he was drunk he looked you up and down, probably evaluating how worth it would be to decide to strip you naked and fuck you once and for all. Your body in the dress you were wearing looked better with a few drinks on him.
“I think it would be best to retire, my husband. This way you can stay with the men to chat and… drink”
“But I want you to stay here to keep me company,” he insisted, holding your wrist tightly “Or don't you want to please your prince?”
It wasn’t a loving request, but one for control. He wanted to have you there only to demonstrate his power over you, without paying attention to you or talking; only as an ornament.
“Aegon, enough,” Alicent interrupted, observing the scene that had begun to unfold. “Daughter, let's go to sleep. “I will accompany you”
“Fine, do whatever you want,” he spat contemptuously, abruptly releasing the wrist that was holding you. There was hatred in his eyes, but also pride.
The queen said goodbye to everyone present and then offered you her hand to take you away from there. You spent most of the way in silence, walking through the long, wide corridors of the fortress followed only by the faithful footsteps of Ser Criston Cole.
“You must be patient with him” he began to say “He is a particular man and sometimes… difficult, but I know that with your docile character you will be able to deal with his temperament.”
What did she know about your character? She didn't know you at all.
“So it shall be, Queen Alicent.”
“I understand what you are going through, dear. We both come from the same lands to endure the difficult task of accompanying a monarch. But it is our duty to carry it out with all the honor and temper worthy of our homes. Of course, I can trust that as a woman you will be able to help him fulfill another of the most important marital commitments, such as having children, to maintain the lineage and blood. For a virgin like you, Aegon may be rough, but... patience and resilience are among the best virtues. A woman in royalty must endure these things to give the best to the people.”
You had never wanted to be a princess. And just when you thought the queen was showing you compassion, you realized that she was only looking out for her interests and those of her family.
"Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind"
She smiled and immediately left a kiss on your forehead, which could have been taken as a maternal kiss but which you didn't like at all. The longer you can postpone suffering, the better. If Aegon didn't even want to look at you, it was perfect.
That night, as soon as you touched the mattress and the silk sheets that decorated it, you began to cry until you fell asleep.
SECOND ACT: CONTROL
Time passed again and although the punishment of not leaving your room was not revoked, you found multiple activities with which to entertain yourself in the prince's absence. You filled your mornings and afternoons with reading, writing, knitting and embroidering. The nights were even more boring because most of the time your husband wasn't there either.
Rumors that you hadn’t yet consummated the marriage had spread through the halls of the palace and soon the smallfolk would murmur too. After all, the people couldn’t entertain themselves with anything more than the gossip and the plays that were going on in the poor neighborhoods, making fun of royal affairs.
You no longer even had the energy to deny those accusations and Aegon had given you the perfect opportunity by throwing you out of his room and refusing to leave the four walls of yours: if you didn't leave there, there was no way anyone would question you. And since you didn't have family inside the Keep, you didn't have any visitors either.
One night, however, your husband surprised you by entering your room. It had been days since you two had seen each other and his staggering around the room warned you that he was drunk again. You often wondered how he resisted drinking so much and the long-term effects it would have on his health, but right now your mind could only focus on the fear of what he might want in that state.
“Good night, dear,” he drawled, sounding as sarcastic as possible.
You were in your nightgown and you were carrying in your hand an old book that you had been reading and that you threw on the nightstand as soon as you saw him approaching you. You didn't have time to say or do anything else when he had already approached you in giant steps to grab you by the back of your neck and start kissing you. He was abrupt, careless, with his mouth smelling of wine and tasting even worse. You wanted to cry from helplessness.
“It's what everyone wants, isn't it?” he murmured, separating himself from you, but still holding you by the hair at the back of your neck. “A marriage arranged in a couple of days to form alliances. And that's it, my life was ruined thanks to my father wanting your stupid castle to expand his domain."
The truth is that couldn't be further from the truth. Viserys’s ambition had never been that, as he had been so little involved in the process that he simply didn’t care who his children were or were not married to. Except for Rhaenyra, of course.
Aegon continued:
"I didn’t want this. I didn't want to marry you, or anyone..."
“And you think I do?” you confronted him.
You were tired of the insult, the humiliation and him ignoring you as if you were worthless; even if that was what a husband did. And the most likely thing was that your words would be forgotten due to alcohol or that they would put an end to the wait for your suffering to begin and Aegon decided to take you once and for all.
“You have nothing to lose, prince,” you continued. “You get drunk as much as you want, you run away from your responsibilities and walk everywhere when I have to stay locked up here all day just because you want me to. I have to endure the suspicious looks of everyone because I still don't have an heir in the womb while you go and fuck your whores."
“I'm the prince and I fuck whoever I want, did you hear me?” he hissed. The grip on your hair had already begun to become painful and a few tears slipped down your cheeks “And I stop fucking whoever I want too. I'm not going to please anyone by getting you pregnant. There they will see if they come and force me to put my cock in you”
“Do you doubt that, your grace?” you exclaimed bitterly “Doubts that will force us to conceive?”
“So that's what you want? Do you want me to do it?”
“I want to go home. That is what I want. But my father used me as a bargaining chip and that's why I can't do anything."
“I'm sorry it was like that. If I had chosen my wife, I would surely have chosen someone prettier and more educated than you, but I can't do much either."
Once again, the man pushed you until your lips joined his and the same discomfort settled in you. He didn't kiss you with love, but with fury and violence to the point that you had to push him away when he bit you so hard that a trickle of blood began to come out of your lower lip. Aegon was also stained by it and with an acidic smile he ran the tip of his tongue all over his mouth to remove any traces.
Looking at you he didn't look happy, but he didn't look angry either. He just seemed fed up.
Everyone knew, or suspected, that the prince was very capable of taking sexual advantage of any woman. He had done it before with maids and prostitutes and had slept peacefully throughout that time. However, there was something about you that encouraged him not to. He didn't even think it was something about you specifically but about the situation, because he wanted to do the opposite of what he was ordered: if everyone ordered him to take you to have an heir, it automatically became an unpleasant act and at the same time that he refused.
He was hurt, not because of you but because of years and years of abuse and neglect. He didn't really know you at all, he only knew what you represented.
You were just the unlucky one who had married him.
"I hate you. I hate that you are my wife and you are not worthy of me even touching you” he snapped with disdain. You were still fighting to keep the tears inside your eyes and his vision had also blurred slightly “I wish I had never met you.”
“The feeling is mutual, your grace,” you expressed, your voice breaking. If it was an offense to the crown, you wouldn't even care anymore and if he killed you right there you wouldn't regret it too much either.
Aegon looked at you one last time before staggering back out the door without another word, closing it behind him with a loud gesture and leaving you alone in the room. The reality that you had escaped, once again, from being raped by the man fell on you like a bucket of cold water and your knees weakened until you fell to the floor.
You were hurt, tired, and defeated by the stress of the situation and the fear that had washed over you the entire time. Luckily he was gone, otherwise you didn't know if you would have endured what he had to do to you. It was better to have him busy in a brothel than to have to endure him in your bed.
You wished you could talk to someone and cry on a loved one’s shoulder, only to realize a second later that that was impossible. Aegon was your new family, now you belonged to the Targaryens and you would have to do as they wished.
Anger completely overwhelmed you to the point where you stood up from your seat and began throwing pieces of glassware all over the room, in a violent outburst at what had just happened and the way you felt. None of the guards outside your door dared to come in to check on you and soon enough you fell back to the ground, exhausted from the effort.
As you cried, perhaps for the umpteenth time since you had been married, you thought about how you would never be able to love Prince Aegon. Not even if you tried.
THIRD ACT: PAIN
After months, the inevitable arrived. The truth was that the first time you felt sorrow and anger, but the following times it became more tolerable. Not because it was better, but because you began to get used to it. Aegon didn't change his attitude towards you one bit. You indeed spent more time together, although that didn’t mean that you got along better or that you had begun to have more sympathy for each other.
The only advantage was that you had started to be friends with some people in the palace. Your sister-in-law, to begin with, as well as some of the maids who were in charge of looking after you, as they turned out to be your only company during those days. Those distractions were more than enough for you, considering the situation you were in, and they kept you sane as time went by.
Almost like a punishment from heaven, it seemed that you weren’t pregnant yet, since your biological processes seemed to continue working to the letter. That meant that, unfortunately, you would have to keep trying; when Aegon was lost enough to forget who you were and you had to stand still as a statue to let him loom over you.
You often liked to imagine what your life would have been like if you had stayed in Highgarden. Nobody knew it yet, but there you had found your first love and although it never went beyond a few kisses, you treasured the memory with particular affection. You had always wanted to marry a sweet man who loved and respected you, who would give you your place as a wife and adore you day and night; someone with whom you could feel protected, cared for, but above all happy. You thought, naively, that that boy you had met and who was nothing more than a commoner could have given you that life, but all those possibilities were nothing more than fantasies in which you tried to lock yourself in to feel less miserable with your unpleasant reality.
One night Helaena had invited you to a modest dinner in her company that you couldn't refuse, since none of your husbands were present and some time with friends could clear your mind. You didn't even know where the prince was, although it was expected that he was spending some time in the town with his friends.
“Sometimes I feel sad about our situation,” said the blonde. You were in the privacy of her chambers, not even with the maids present, so confessions like that were allowed “But I am happy that you are my friend, something that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.”
“I'm glad to talk to you too,” you smiled sincerely. “You're the best thing I've found around here.”
“My brothers aren't that bad, they're just… well, we've had a hard life. And that's why they behave like that."
“I think there is no justification for being a…” idiot, you wanted to say, but you had to remember that you were in the presence of the princess, “a person who is rude to others. But I guess that happens with royalty, right? They do what they want without consequences”
"I guess so. Kings, princes, the heirs, lords, dukes…”
“Okay, I get it,” you laughed bitterly “It's probably a masculine quality.”
You never thought your sister-in-law would have that kind of humor and to be honest, most of the time she was a comic relief for the situations you two were going through. Sometimes her prophecies scared you, especially the way she phrased them, but you wanted to think that her premonitions would never affect you directly.
When you finally got tired of chatting and the food was finished, you decided to return to your room, so you could have a peaceful night's rest. It was raining outside and thunder echoed in the distance, making the atmosphere slightly gloomy, but at the same time cooling every corner of King's landing.
The novelty of your position was no longer important enough to require you to be escorted by guards twenty-four hours a day, so you were able to slowly walk through all the corridors that led to your sanctuary. It was modest but cute, although not on the level of Aegon’s.
A man was guarding the door and you bowed your head to him to let you pass, which he did without any opposition. Once inside you got rid of your shoes and unbuttoned your corset, not caring that the room was almost in darkness; only the moonlight illuminated from the window. You took a few steps forward and squealed when you discovered that there was another person in the room, sitting at the small table with a drink in his hand. You would have started screaming for help if you hadn't noticed that said intruder had silver hair falling like a curtain over his face.
"Your grace?" you asked cautiously.
It isn’t usual for Aegon to drink in your room, as he preferred other places with more interesting company, and when you didn’t receive an answer you approached slowly. You thought that at best he had simply fallen asleep and at worst he would be dead.
At first his long, wavy hair covered your view of his face, but when he noticed your presence he raised his head and then you could see him. His features became clearer as lightning illuminated him from the outside and for a second you were horrified.
His cheek was red and a trickle of blood was dripping from his nose, however, what surprised you the most was seeing his eyes completely swollen.
“For the seven, I… I'll go call a maester”
“Don't even think about it,” he exclaimed hoarsely, seeing that you were already rushing towards the door.
Your husband didn't sound like his usual angry tone, but rather he seemed... hurt.
You thought for a second about what the appropriate reaction to the situation was. You couldn't leave the room because, in addition to the guards murmuring, it would be impolite to leave him in that state; also, where would you go? If you ignored him, he would probably take it as an insult and he had already made it clear that he didn't want to see someone who could take care of those injuries.
You hated him, it was true, but you weren't an insensitive monster either.
"Who did this to you?"
Aegon was surprised by how soft, even kind, your question sounded and the intoxication gave him some courage to answer.
“My mother and my grandfather. Mostly my mother, my grandfather rather dedicated his efforts to reminding me how useless I am”
You didn't know what to say. You never believed that the queen would be capable of hitting one of her sons like that. You didn't believe it from any mother, actually.
With some trepidation you took one of the chairs and placed it in front of him, expecting him to immediately push you away or ask you to get out of his sight. However, the prince didn't seem to have enough energy to do any of those things.
He had a lost look on his face and tears began to run down his face.
“Nothing… nothing I do pleases her. Neither to her, nor to my grandfather. All the time they are pressuring me, demanding me, yelling at me. Apparently Otto still hopes that my father will name me king, but I've never wanted that. They blame me for drinking all the time and how do they expect them not to? My father cares so little about me and my mother hates me. All his life he has hated me. She does it, my brothers… and so do you. My own wife hates me. Everyone… everyone who knows me does it”
You were silent for a moment.
There were mixed feelings inside you, because you couldn't forget the mistreatment that the man had given you during those months, nor the way he used you for his pleasure. He was right when he said you hated him. However, there was a compassionate part of you, deep down, that felt sorry for the man's state.
“And sometimes I just want to be dead. I just wish all the shit would go away and drowning in alcohol and dying would take away Alicent's problem and allow her to focus her attention on something better”
His gaze lifted and he looked at you with crystallized eyes.
“Maybe you should poison me one day. So your suffering would also end”
“Your highness, I cannot do that”
“But would you like it? Do you hate me enough to wish me dead?”
“Of course not,” you said quickly.
"Liar. You lie like everyone else. You want me dead”
You knew that saying something negative at that moment, in the state he was in, could result in him making some incoherence that you would be blamed for the next morning. So it was best to act cautiously.
“I don't think anyone wants that”
“My mother does. My father, Rhaenyra does it, and so does her stupid new husband…”
“Your grace…” you interrupted him harshly. Listening to him sink into his self-indulgence was too much to bear “You better go to sleep, don't you think? Now you're not thinking clearly, you'll feel better in the morning."
But Aegon seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to anything you had to say to him.
“I guess I just wish someone wouldn't completely detest my existence, you know?”
Aegon had done terrible things to you, of course, but seeing him at that moment made you wonder if all of this was the product of poor parenting and psychological abuse that had been perpetuated for twenty long years. You couldn't say your father loved you, not after what he had done, but at least he hadn't constantly hurt you as the man in front of you had. You knew better than anyone that hate had to be healed with empathy and for a brief moment you felt soft for him.
Once Aegon was a small child, without sins, without accumulated hatred, without evil... and apparently that frightened child hadn’t been completely buried, because it was him who cried inconsolably and saw death as a viable alternative to end that suffering. However, there is no redemption without guilt, right? You don't get to heaven without first repenting.
You stayed silent for a long time, listening to him sob, and when you gathered the courage you spoke:
“Prince, can I be honest with you?”
You had spoken in a low and benevolent voice, while you slid from your chair until you were kneeling in front of him. The boy didn't even want to take advantage of that position for a sexual act, he was simply too tired and drained to think. You placed your hands on his knees and seeing that he nodded, you continued:
“You say you wish someone wouldn't hate you, but have you ever made an effort to do so? Or have you even wondered why people feel that way about you?”
“It's something natural for them”
“I didn't feel it,” you said, honestly. You hated the idea of getting married out of obligation, but if he had been different from the beginning maybe your feelings for him would be too “And you made me feel it. With your contempt, your humiliations, your punishments…”
“If everyone thinks you're a monster, what's the point of contradicting them?”
“And then you prefer to agree with them?”
You were probably taking too many liberties with the prince, but you would never have a chance to talk to him like that again. He was vulnerable and therefore less defensive than normal.
“Every person is responsible for their actions,” you continued. “You can't change how the queen or king feels about you, but you can choose to offer something better to others. If it’s your desire that people not hate you, that won’t happen overnight just because you tell it to. It takes time, effort and above all it requires kindness. If you live regretting the concept that people have of you, without doing anything to change it, then you will live a lifetime of dissatisfaction. If you seriously want someone to feel happy about your existence then pursue that goal, don’t expect it to be granted to you as a divine work.”
A deeper cry began to well up from the man and you almost thought he would lean down for your hug. Still, he didn't.
“I don't know how to be someone else. I have always been this”
“Not always, that's for sure. Water that stagnates rots and becomes a swamp. The one that runs, on the other hand, becomes a river and flows into the ocean.”
You raised the handkerchief you always carried and, in an act of kindness that was also intended to be an offering of peace, you gently wiped the tears and dried blood from his face. Aegon squirmed as he had never experienced that kind of care.
“You just have to ask yourself: what do you choose to be?”
For an endless moment he watched you. His judgment was clouded by drunkenness, but he wondered if he wasn't hallucinating and you were simply the voice of his conscience telling him something he had never wanted to accept.
It was easier to blame others for his mistakes, to justify himself by saying that everything about him was his mother's fault and that if he behaved the way he did it was only a defense mechanism. Aegon had never thought about how his treatment of women was a direct consequence of Alicent's upbringing: if his own mother had hurt him, why wouldn't other women do the same to him? And since he was convinced that they were all going to do it, he preferred to turn them into objects that he could use for his benefit.
He was so drunk and so exhausted from all the crying he had shed that he simply pushed your hand away from his face and stood up from the chair, without saying a word. You, now standing, saw him begin to undress and the first thing you thought was that he would seek to heal his sorrows by having sex with you. However, he only got rid of the essentials and then lay on his stomach on the bed. Without any choice, you took off your clothes for the day, put on a nightgown and also lay down on the mattress to sleep.
You were sure that the next day Aegon wouldn’t remember anything and you weighed the possibility of the whole story repeating itself, in an endless and painful loop for the two of you. And if you were right, it would be a shame if you had to live like this for the rest of your days.
FOURTH ACT: REDEMPTION
“Do you know where Meryna is?” you asked one of the maids who had come in to change your bedding.
“No, your grace”
“I'm starting to get hungry and she still hasn't brought my breakfast,” you exclaimed sadly.
You had woken up a while ago and had gotten dressed to go for a walk after eating, to see if this would cheer you up a little. It had been a few days since Aegon had opened up in the privacy of your room and after that you had barely seen him, much less spoken to him. You believed that everything was due to a matter of pride or even shame for what you had witnessed and you simply didn’t give it importance, because you knew that eventually he would approach you again. You just had to wait for him to want to do it.
Almost as if by summons, the black-haired girl appeared through the door, looking agitated and embarrassed by the delay. Furthermore, she came empty-handed.
"Princess…"
“Didn't you bring breakfast?” you asked, still sounding cordial but slightly surprised.
“I'm very sorry, it's just that Prince Aegon asked me to bring the food to the royal dining room. He is waiting for you there, he told me to come and get you.”
He hadn’t mentioned requiring your presence for any breakfast and, according to you, there were no guests in the palace to accompany. The two women noticed your dismay and Meryna stood waiting for a response.
“Did he tell you why?”
“No, your grace”
"Good. Then tell him I'll be there in a moment."
You only took a few minutes to change your dress, one more suitable for being in the presence of the prince and in case there was a guest you didn't know about. There were no guards at your door so you were able to walk to the dining room by yourself and were surprised to see that only your husband was at the table. He had an expression that you interpreted as a mix of impatience and nerves.
“Oh, you finally arrived. Sit down. You, bring the princess something to drink,” he ordered a maid. He used to call you that in the presence of guests, but it was rare for him to have that courtesy when alone.
“Are we waiting for someone?”
"No. I just thought you might want to have breakfast together.”
You were already sitting next to him, and for a second you watched him with a frown. Had he hit his head somewhere or why was he acting so strange?
“Do you prefer juice or wine, your highness?
"Juice"
“And bring her some strawberries,” Aegon exclaimed.
There was something about the situation that scared you, because you imagined that he wouldn't be treating you so kindly without wanting something in return. But you were already his wife and he did whatever he wanted with you, what more could he want from you?
You looked him up and down, as if searching for some sign, but he looked completely normal. He was wearing one of those full black robes he was used to, with a golden chain with emeralds decorating the hem of his neck and a belt accentuating his figure. The dark circles in his eyes were pronounced, as always, but the look was not that of someone angry; you would even say that he looked somewhat passive, even sleepy.
While you were thinking about all that, you remembered the last conversation you had had with him. You feared that madness had finally exploded in your husband and the food you were about to eat was poisoned, as he had suggested at the time. Perhaps out of courtesy he was waiting for you to take the first bite and, trying to control the trembling in your hands, you took a portion of the cold cuts on your plate to put it in your mouth. Luckily the food didn't taste different and after seeing that the man ate it with the utmost calmness, you assumed that it didn't contain any poison either.
There was freshly baked bread, jam, some cheeses, the aforementioned cold cuts, a variety of fruits, scrambled eggs with fresh herbs and chives, as well as some stuffed buns for dessert. It was a mini banquet and as you ate it you couldn't help but wonder why this show of kindness was due.
Aegon didn't seem to have any intention of talking and you didn't try to force him, not wanting to either. The atmosphere was one of peace and tranquility, one you had not experienced since your wedding day until now, and it was a very different but strangely pleasant feeling.
It was just a couple sharing breakfast time, but for two people who come from such a broken home it felt like a totally new experience.
You continued in silence until most of the things served were finished, leaving only what wasn’t to your palate's liking or that your body was simply no longer able to ingest.
“Do you need anything else, your majesty?”
“Clear this table, we won't eat anymore,” he said to the maid, nonchalantly pointing to the leftovers you had left. Then he looked at you “Satisfied?”
"I am. Everything was delicious”
“I want us to do the same tomorrow. I will send a maid for you, so get ready soon,” he said decisively.
Then he got up from his chair, stretched a little, and left the room without saying anything else to you.
You didn't see your husband the rest of the day, but the next morning he kept his promise without fail. Although the breakfast menu was different the routine was the same and again it made you wonder what the reason for it was.
The next day he also requested your presence for breakfast and you concluded that he intended to make it a habit. For the rest of the morning you were supposed to dedicate yourself to your activities, but after a week of following that routine Aegon informed you that he had other plans for you.
“I want you to come with me for a walk.”
"To the exterior?"
"Yeah. I have training with Ser Criston but I don't wish to attend, so you will be my excuse. I'll tell him that the princess wanted to go for a walk and that I couldn't let her go alone."
He was telling you that lie almost like a childish prank and you would swear he was about to smile.
“Huh, okay. If you want it, we will”
You were still confused by his actions, because in all the time you had been there it was the first time he treated you decently. You didn't know if he was still drinking in large quantities, but at least when he went to sleep he no longer reeked of liquor in the same way. And all that week he hadn't forced you to have sex with him.
What had motivated the prince to change his way of behaving towards you?
"Do you want to go to the beach? I will order a couple of horses to be saddled for us” he exclaimed when you had already left the dining room.
You couldn't refuse to go to the bay, because in your entire life you had never seen the ocean and your curiosity was greater than any other feeling. Besides, you loved horses, and being with them might even make you feel better.
Aegon did as he told you and soon enough you were in the stable. He had ordered a beautiful white mare for you, with a silver mane the color of your husband's hair and a formidable build.
You approached to pet the animal, carefully, and tensed completely when you felt another body behind yours. Until that moment you hadn't realized how warm your husband was.
“She's pretty, right?”
His voice sounded at your ear level, as he had also reached out to touch Frostfire’s hair.
"She is"
“I guess you know how to ride,” he muttered under his breath and you let out an offended sigh.
“Of course I do. Highgarden is the heart of the chivalry of the seven kingdoms”
After saying that you turned your head just a little and met his gaze, indigo eyes with hints of lilac looking at you carefully. You could feel his breath against yours and at that closeness your cheeks had already turned red involuntarily.
He separated from you and then went to choose his horse, a black thoroughbred with beautiful braids, to get on it and ask the guards to open the door for you. You almost managed to sneak away, but Ser Criston stopped the two of you just before you could do so, claiming that he had a scheduled practice with the prince.
“I'm taking my wife to Blackwater, she hasn't had a chance to visit since her arrival.”
“But your grace, your father…”
“We will continue with training later, Ser Criston,” he said firmly.
“Will you go to Blackwater without an escort?”
“I will”
"That's impossible"
“Don't worry, I don't want to be accompanied. Just rest for now.”
“But you are the prince.”
"Exactly. I am the prince and I want my orders to be respected."
The boy was a smug son of a bitch when he put his mind to it, just like now. The man had no choice but to obey the words and then the two of you were able to leave. You could get there on foot, but Aegon had felt like riding and had wanted an alternative to quickly escape if something went wrong.
You walked along a path that still belonged to the Red Keep grounds, so there was no great danger of being attacked along the way, and you soon reached the bay. It was even more beautiful up close and as soon as you got off the mare you forgot any courtesy towards your husband, as you rushed towards the shore to watch the waves crash. Your pumps and dress were soaked when the water reached your calves, but it didn't bother you too much because you were happy for the reason.
“Have you never been to the ocean?”
“I'm afraid not, your grace. There was never any business that required me to be on the coast of The Reach and I have always lived surrounded by hills and forests. I had seen some rivers, but…”
Before you could continue your story you staggered because of a wave and to avoid falling you tried to hold on to whatever was within reach, which turned out to be the man next to you. He supported you from the elbows with his strong arms.
“Oh, I'm so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he laughed. For the first time in your presence, he had laughed “But we should get away from the shore. I wouldn't want to take you back to the castle all soaked”
You heeded the boy's advice and, still leaning on him, walked towards the sand. The sky was slightly cloudy, so the weather was perfect for walking around without any discomfort.
“I've never visited Highgarden, is it as impressive as rumored?” he asked, as he began to walk in the opposite direction of the Red Keep.
Although you never believed that the prince would be interested in such things, you began to talk to him about your hometown with particular emotion. You told him about his surroundings, about the castle and you also told in greater detail the gardens that once belonged to you and were full of golden roses, as was the emblem of your house.
You were surprised by how attentive the boy was to everything you had to say to him and for the first time since your arrival, you didn't feel like a stranger in your own skin. Talking about your home was like remembering a part of yourself, as if you were showing him your insides through stories of the beautiful hills where you had ridden so many times.
“Everything sounds wonderful,” he concluded. The sea breeze had already ruffled both of your hair and he took advantage of this to brush a strand out of your face “Someday I should go visit it”
“Yes, maybe you would like that” you exclaimed smiling. You had come too far and it was time to walk back, towards where you had left Frostfire and Moonshadow tied up “Your grace, may I ask you a question?”
"Yeah"
You opened your mouth to ask him why he was doing all that and why he had suddenly started showing so much interest in you. You wanted to know the reason for his unexpected kindness and his abstinence from activities that weren’t very pleasant for you. But before you could speak, you took a moment to observe him. His skin looked paler in the light outside and his silver hair waved in the wind, however, what caught your attention the most was the serene expression on his face.
Although you couldn't say that you knew Aegon, the time you had lived together had shown you that his personality was extremely challenging. If you pointed out that he was being nicer to you and questioned him about it, he would most likely revert to his old behavior towards you simply on a whim. So no, you couldn't ask him about anything or you'd ruin the minuscule part of a good relationship you had managed to build.
“I was thinking... Do you think we can one day bring golden roses to the royal gardens? Green and gold are part of your emblem too and that would beautify the place. I could take care of them, if you want.”
“That's a good idea,” he exclaimed happily. You had already turned around to return and you calculated that it must be after noon “I will order them to be brought in as soon as possible, in the hope that the hot weather at King's landing will not ruin them”
“I hope not,” you said, although a little less enthusiastic than before.
You had been lost in thought after the appearance of that question that you did not verbalize and suddenly Aegon feared that he had made some mistake. You walked a few meters in silence, until this state was unbearable for his majesty and he stopped you by holding your shoulders. You were about to ask what had happened when he pulled you against his lips, stealing your breath. It was still a rough kiss, but this time less desperate than before. His hands went down to your waist and held you to his body until there wasn’t even a centimeter of distance left, with your belly touching the heat of his stomach.
“Still no signs that you are pregnant?”
You thought that, perhaps, your answer was in that question and that the only thing the man wanted was to convince you to hurry up the matter of producing an heir.
“I'm sorry to say no. It's very unfortunate."
“We'll have to keep trying,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if he wanted to downplay the matter “Mother insists on it.”
“Has your mother always been like this to you?”
"What are you talking about?"
“It's just… she seems to have everything under control all the time.”
You couldn't be further from the truth and rather than describing it that way Aegon would have said that she was controlling. She wanted to have things under control, but she couldn't and as an example was the eldest prince himself, whom she had never been able to persuade to behave the way he did.
“Well, she is the queen. I guess that's how she must be” he exclaimed without much encouragement. He was still holding you by the waist and was surprised by how intimate that position was. “But we better get back, they must be wondering where we are”
“Maybe they even think I ran away, taking advantage of the fact that you weren't there to watch me,” you joked.
"Would you do it?"
"Do what?"
“Run away”
You looked at the man, incredulous, because it was stupid to think that if you were planning to run away you would just tell him like that. That was the characteristic of it, that it was surprising and hidden.
“Why would I do, your grace?”
“Maybe because I'm a bad husband,” he said quietly. You weren't understanding the game Aegon was playing and it was driving you crazy.
“I wouldn't dare do it. I have nowhere to go and I know I couldn't even get through the doors without your majesty noticing,” you replied.
The prince didn’t want pragmatic reasons like that, but rather his question was more aimed at whether it was your will to abandon him.
Against all odds a couple of raindrops began to fall and very soon a storm had already brewed over your head. It was useless to run, but you did it anyway and Aegon held your hand to prevent either of you from falling due to a trip. Somewhere along the way you lost one of your pumps and at this you began to laugh and he, infected by your joy, did the same. It amused you greatly to think of the face the queen would make when she saw you enter the castle, with her eldest son soaked from head to toe and your clothing incomplete. But you also laughed from the joy of feeling so alive in that moment. You felt like a girl playing in the rain and despite the coldness of the falling water, you felt a certain warmth traveling from the tips of your fingers to your chest.
Although he was sure that you were an excellent rider, your husband insisted on taking you on his own horse to avoid any accidents and you agreed without complaint. His body sheltered you all the way to the Red Keep and once there, under the roof, he helped you down from the chair with extreme care. You didn't think he was that strong until you felt him grab your waist and place you on the floor effortlessly.
“Ask the maids to prepare a bath for you, or you will catch a cold,” he said, putting on your back a cloak he had found hanging on one of the walls.
There was the hint of a smile on his face and seeing him behave like this towards you made you feel weird. You almost felt like he was trying to be affectionate with you, even though he wasn't quite succeeding.
“You should do the same,” you exclaimed softly.
Motivated by the kind moment you had shared, you reached out to brush away the wet hair that had stuck to his face and he shivered at your touch. It was the first time you touched him that way, out of conviction and with care.
“Your majesty, Lord Hand is looking for you. He says he needs to talk to you urgently."
“My grandfather,” he sighed at you, as if wanting to apologize for the words the guard behind you had just said.
He gave the man Moonshadow's reins and then explained that someone had to go get the horse you had left in the bay, so you assumed your presence there was no longer necessary. You were about to leave when he stopped you, grabbing your arm somewhat roughly and looking at you with a feeling that you couldn't decipher.
“I'll go to your room tonight,” he informed.
You felt a little disappointed by the reality of having to share a bed with him, after so long without having done so, but you were grateful that he was at least warning you.
You nodded your goodbyes and he did the same, forming an unspoken agreement. You thought maybe that was why he had been polite to you, so he could get back under your bed sheets. But there was no point in doing it, he wasn't courting you to win your hand, but you were already his wife and he had made it very clear that he could do with you whatever he wanted.
Still a little confused, you were escorted to your bedroom, where you hoped that a tub with hot water and essences would be enough to appease all those doubts that were growing in you.
FIFTH ACT: LOVE
At some point Aegon would get tired of all this, you were sure. But while that moment arrived, you were thoroughly enjoying all kinds of attention you received from your husband. He kept his promise to bring golden roses for the gardens and although the queen wasn’t very happy, in the end they adorned some of the busiest sections of the place. You took that as an act of good faith, so you thought that maybe the thought of repaying him for some of the decency he was showing you wouldn't kill you.
There wasn’t a single breakfast that you skipped, except when the prince was required for political matters or had to travel. You were too proud to admit that you had begun to genuinely enjoy his company, as you still had some distrust due to how temperamental the man was. It wasn't all sunshine and flowers, as the young man still had some outbursts that made you fear him and reminded you that this was who you were really talking to.
His drinking habits hadn’t changed much, since although he was able to handle it during the first week after that period, it was inevitable that he would go back to his old ways and drink an entire jug of wine in a couple of minutes. With sex it was the same, because he continued to fuck you without signs of care and regularly when he was lost in drink. It amused you to think that perhaps that was the reason why you still didn't carry a child in your womb; that he was too drunk when you tried to be of any use.
However, as your relationship strengthened you could notice slight (you almost swore they were imaginary) changes when having sex. He was no longer as rough towards your body as before and tried to thrust into you a little slower, as if he wanted to lengthen the moment and not just unload into you and sleep like a baby after that. Maybe it was just that the drink made him lethargic, but he had even started seeking your lips in the middle of the act or kissing everything within reach of the skin on your neck. You didn't intend to spend much time analyzing his behavior because for you it already represented a victory that he had stopped hurting you after every time you had sex and, honestly, you didn't want to inquire about it. Once again you thought it was more prudent not to question the prince and simply let him continue behaving that way.
Until one night, things looked different for you.
When you heard your husband open the door, quite late at night, and saw him approach your bed, you knew that the same dynamic of nighttime visits would take place. Aegon, already hard as a rock, would kiss you a few times, undress, order you to undress, and then position on top of you to satisfy himself. Needless to say, under the confidence that being in the dark gave you and your husband's lack of interest, you looked away or concentrated on something else while your martyrdom was carried out. He would finish, lie naked next to you, and then sleep soundly with no memory the next morning of what had happened.
Aegon called your name, just to check that you were awake or otherwise wake you up, and you were surprised to hear that his voice sounded quite normal. He wasn't slurring his words like usual.
"Your grace?" you called back, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him.
He did what was expected and as soon as he was far enough away, he started kissing you. You must have known something was wrong from that first moment, when he grabbed your cheek with his wide hand and offered you the most passionate kiss you had ever had. It is reiterated that Aegon was always somewhat careless in intimacy, but this first contact hadn’t felt as impatient as others, but rather was something more careful and planned.
Only one other man had kissed you like that in your life and although the feeling brewing in your chest must have been pleasant, the truth was that it wasn't. You had endured too much abuse from the white-haired man so your body didn't know how to react otherwise. That's why when he continued kissing you for longer than usual and then laid you down meekly, you couldn't do anything but tense uncomfortably.
You were only in your nightgown so there wasn't much difficulty in sliding the straps to the side, almost exposing your tits. Suddenly Aegon lowered his kisses to your neck, where his stubble scratched your skin. Knowing that he would be busy in that area, you turned your head away to focus your gaze on a tapestry on the wall. However, you got a surprise when you felt the prince move away from you and then a bigger one when he took your face between his fingers, placing his index finger and thumb on each of your cheeks to force you to look at him. At first you thought there was anger in his eyes, but after looking at them for a second more you concluded that the feeling was more like that of someone insulted. And why? you asked yourself. What had you done that had offended the prince?
“Why are you looking away?”
His question had a certain aggressive tone, but, at the same time, he sounded hurt. With that you confirmed that he wasn’t drunk or that, if he was, he had drunk just enough to make him feel slightly dizzy. You couldn't tell the way your eyes looked at him, but Aegon interpreted your expression as one of disdain.
Unbeknownst to you, he had his own whirlwind of feelings inside him, one that was driving him crazy and causing him to look you up and down while still holding you. He’d never been like this on another night, so you were at the mercy of knowing how good or bad that would turn out.
Suddenly he seemed upset, you would even say disgusted, and surprisingly stood up from his position. The cold air hit you where he had been before and you sat on the bed to watch him, completely confused by the way he was behaving.
"What's going on…?"
“You don't want this,” he spoke firmly. It was obvious that you didn't want to and you wondered how he had barely realized it. “Not like that… I… no. Not this way"
His babbling confused you even more and when you saw him walk away with exaggerated steps until he left through the door, you couldn't help but feel totally amazed.
What was the reason for what your husband had just done?
The feeling of being abandoned was more hopeless than having him fuck you would have been, and for a moment you even felt ashamed. Maybe he didn't like you anymore or he would just go and cure his frustration in the bed of a woman you didn't know.
He had watched you very strangely and the whole scene wasn't like him. You even pinched yourself just to check that it wasn't some strange dream, getting a moan of pain in response to your question. You thought that perhaps you were acting impulsively, but barely a minute later you put on a green robe over your nightgown and headed towards the door, still not knowing exactly what you were going to do.
“Where are you going, your grace?” the guard on duty asked, putting his voluptuous body in your way.
“Prince Aegon, do you know where he went?”
“In that direction, your majesty. But I'm afraid I must recommend that you return to your room, it is dangerous to walk around the palace at this time."
“But I wish to see my husband,” you said firmly.
The man let out a sigh and then slid to the side of the hallway, leaving you a clear path. Even so, when you started walking you felt his footsteps following you because he probably wanted to make sure that something didn't happen to you. You walked for a while, but you knew it was useless when all you found were locked doors that you couldn't knock on and that you couldn't open either. If Aegon was in any of those rooms, you wouldn't know it. Defeated, you returned to your room and, as expected, found it empty again.
The next morning there wasn’t a single word about that event, but it was present in your mind throughout the day. You had already lived with him enough to realize that something was bothering him, however, upon noticing that he was less talkative during your usual breakfast, you decided to give him time.
You were about to leave the table when he stopped you, asking you to take your seat again and looking at you seriously.
“I have to travel for a couple of weeks,” he informed you. You were surprised to hear that he almost sounded sad “The king is required on some business and since my father can no longer travel, I will have to do it.”
“I hope the entire journey is favorable and the visit profitable, your grace,” you exclaimed cordially. However, your husband didn’t seem pleased with it.
One of his hands slid to hold yours, with a strength that surprised you. There was urgency in his grip, like he needed to hold on to something.
“Is that all you have to say?”
A couple of wrinkles appeared on your brow, as you clearly weren't understanding what he expected of you. Accompanying him would be reckless and you didn't know if he wanted you to keep him there at King's landing.
During those last months something had changed in the man's face, because those eyes surrounded by purple marks no longer saw you with the same aversion as the first time. And it disheartened Aegon that his attempts to please you were yielding no apparent fruit. He was giving you time, effort, and being kind to you like you had said was necessary, but he still couldn't help but feel that you still considered him a stranger.
He had been patient because he thought that, as time went by, you would begin to seek him out or not shy away from his touch. Aegon cared a lot about the physical, so every time he sneaked into your room he did so with the hope that you would welcome him with open arms and give yourself to him willingly. Countless nights he waited in his own room for you to show up to keep him warm and love him throughout the night. But it never happened and a part of him couldn't blame you either.
However, he was already tired of it. He wanted to make it clear to you that he not only wanted to give, but also receive. But forcing you to do anything would ruin everything; you had to want it.
“Have I said something that offended you, prince?”
“I just thought you would say you were going to miss me”
A laugh echoed in your throat at those words and for a second Aegon felt hurt, like you were mocking you. He was going to let go of your hand and walk away, insulted, but you squeezed his hand harder as a sign that you didn't want him to do that.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just didn't think that if I harbored feelings of that kind they would be of interest to your majesty."
“Do you miss me when you don't see me?” he asked now, allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of you “Or are you glad to have me away?”
You didn't know what those direct questions were about, because you didn't expect that a man like him would be plagued by uncertainty about knowing the answers.
“Not at all. I will always be willing to be with you whenever you want.”
“And you want to be with me?” he insisted.
“I think that what I want is not important”
“But I'm trying to make it so. I thought I was making it clear enough,”
He was angry, but not for the reasons you might think. It frustrated him that he was trying hard to improve and that your eyes continued to see him like that first time. Too many people were already observing him like that and he thought that, perhaps, since you were the most recent to do it, you could also be the first in whom he could manage to modify it.
You, however, were still too confused by his signs. Sometimes his attitude didn’t coincide with the intentions he had, since antipathy was often the only emotion with which he allowed himself to express and feel, accustomed to what he received during all his years of life.
All those months of effort were a direct product of the talk you had had with him, of that moment of weakness in which, instead of ignoring him like everyone else did, you had stayed with him. Aegon was aware that the treatment towards you was sometimes inhumane and he couldn’t explain how despite this you had wiped away his tears with such care, expressing nothing more than an act of integrity. Sometimes he even just imposed things on you to see if he could push you to the limit and he was surprised to see that you endured everything with honor and decency. You were good, something he could never be.
He didn't want to hear anything more and then let go of your hand, feeling rejected again.
"Majesty…"
"It's getting late. I have to go feed Sunfyre so he can endure the trip.”
“Will you travel by dragon?”
“How else would a Targaryen do it?” expressed obviously.
You were silent for a moment and then he stood up, ready to fulfill his obligations. In the afternoon he had already left, without emotional goodbyes or anything like that.
You had those weeks alone to reflect on everything that had been happening. You firmly believed that a cruel and evil person would always be that way, even if they hid it, because humans can’t change from one day to the next. Still, you had to allow Aegon the courtesy of admitting that he wasn't being a complete jerk lately.
You tried to think of any unpleasant moments with him during that week and although you found a couple, you realized that they had all been because of minor arguments or simply that one of the two of you had woken up in a bad mood. The hatred for the boy had been so ingrained in you that now it was difficult to decipher how much of it was due to things that were really happening and how much of it was a resentment carried from the past, at the beginning of that harmful relationship that existed between you.
He was no longer a mean man to you, he just sometimes had those logical slips for anyone who has never been taught to love. He didn't know how to care for you, how to talk to you, or even how to touch you properly. He had always existed alone and could still be seen reflected in his incessant desire for you to be the one to look for him, in his longing to know that you would miss him during his absence and in wanting you to look forward to his return. He wanted you to pay attention to him. He needed it.
One fine afternoon the vision of Sunfyre finally appeared in the bright blue of the sky, with you watching from the huge window of your room. He looked majestic, flying deftly and confidently with the rider above him grinning from ear to ear. Aegon had once confessed to you that he loved to fly on his dragon and he spoke about it with a devotion that completely touched you.
You thought about going to look for him, grateful that he had returned, but you were afraid that your presence would bother him or, in that case, that there would be murmurs about you. You didn't want to seem like a desperate wife so you thought it would be best to look for him at dinner time and in case he wanted to see you before, you stayed in your room all afternoon.
Once night fell, you put on one of your prettiest dresses and went to the royal dining room hoping to find him there, but it was in vain. Luckily one of the cooks had seen him and he told you that he was in his room, since he had ordered that something to eat and drink be brought there.
Determined, you made your way there and took a moment before entering. You hoped that the time away from King's landing had not hardened your lover's character, because it would be a shame to waste what you had built for some time and have to start over, or not do it at all, which would be even worse. Since there were no guards at the door, you were able to push the wood without any hindrance and then you saw it.
Aegon was sitting near the fireplace, his back to the entrance and leaning against a table that had a jug that you assumed was full (or not so full anymore) of wine. When he heard your footsteps he turned slightly and when he saw you, he kept a serene expression on his face.
“Hey,” he exclaimed quietly.
“The maids informed me that you were here” you explained and he nodded.
You noticed that he no longer wore his black doublet with the Targaryen emblem, he only kept the breeches of the same color and a mint-colored linen shirt that left part of his chest exposed. His white hair had some natural curls that fell delicately over her shoulders.
“Yeah. I don't feel like seeing my parents.”
“I understand” you assumed that if he hadn't wanted to see you he wouldn't have hesitated to tell you, so you approached him. Undecided whether you should greet him with a kiss or just stay to the side, you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned a little to look at him “How was the trip?”
“It was good,” he responded with reluctance. “But my body feels completely crushed”
“Hm. It shows” you whispered, amused. The tension in his body was palpable and that's why you began to massage him, pressing hard just where he needed it. Aegon, feeling your skilled hands doing this, let out a satisfied grunt and leaned his head back with his eyes closed.
Doing that wasn’t something you had planned when you went there, it had only happened out of the heat of the moment and the reality that your husband's body was taking its toll on him for the hours he had spent riding his dragon.
With each passing second Aegon's burden felt lighter and lighter, wondering where you had learned those movements and how your hands were strong enough to exert the right pressure.
"Feel better?" you asked kindly and he nodded immediately, eyes still closed.
Suddenly one of your hands slid lower, towards his chest, to caress him. This time your fingers were light as feathers, sending an electrical current up and down the man's spine under your touch. No whore had ever touched him like that, with that force and at the same time so delicately.
But it was clear that you were not a whore. You were his wife.
“Come here,” he said firmly, reaching out to wrap his hand around your wrist and pulling you directly into his lap.
It was extremely painful to admit that he had missed you. He was physically frustrated because he hadn't dared to take any other woman in your absence. It had been a long time since he had frequented pleasure houses, since his appetite was awakened only by being with you.
What the hell had you done to him?
“The cook told me that you ordered some food, but I only see wine around here. Have you already eaten anything?”
“Mhmm,” he said absently. Your legs dangled to the side and one of his hands came up to your face, brushing your loose hair away from it. The other one surrounded you until it planted itself firmly on your belly. “Still no signs of anything?”
“Honestly, I don't know. The maesters can’t say with certainty… I am sorry”
“What if you are sterile?” the mere possibility of it made you nervous and you wondered what your fate would be if that was the case. Aegon didn't look so worried “What a disappointment for Alicent.”
You didn't know how to take that, because on the one hand it could be that your husband was amused by the irony of the matter and on the other hand it was that he would never have wanted to have children with you. For a moment you thought that the tranquility of the environment had been fragmented by this, but it turned out that the man couldn't care less. He was completely focused on your lips, almost as if hypnotized.
“I trust that is not the case, your grace. Just… it was a streak of bad luck.”
“I guess so,” he murmured nonchalantly. He was still watching your mouth when you spoke “But now I don’t care much about that.”
He carefully grabbed you by the back of your neck and brought you closer to shorten the distance, giving you an eager kiss that took your breath away. The hand that was on your waist pulled you closer to his body, leaving practically no separation between you and him. You could feel the desperation on his lips and in his touch, like he was eager to make you his. And at the same time, he was kissing you like he had never done before: it was sweet, yearning, passionate. You felt like he really wanted you.
He separated from you so you could breathe and, as best he could, he maneuvered to lift your body until he placed you on the table, where it was easier for him to place himself in the space between your legs. You instinctively placed your hands around his neck and wrapped one of your legs around his body.
“I longed for you. These weeks” you finally confessed. You heard him, and felt him, breathe more erratically at this because your words had fallen on him with the force of an axe.
From there, Aegon acted solely driven by the feeling of knowing that you had wanted to see him as much as he had wanted to see you.
His entire body leaned over you to kiss you, with the same urgency as at the beginning. While he did that he grabbed you by the lower back, pulling you until your body collided with his crotch which, if it wasn't already hard, wouldn't take long.
His kisses were clumsy due to urgency and after a while he moved away from your mouth to descend to your neck. Sometimes he left a kiss or two, at most, but this time he seemed to want to take his time. His tongue ran all over your skin, freshly washed, and he spread caresses without restraint. Every place the dragon's lips touched lit up with fire and his hips grinding against you weren't doing much for the blush on your cheeks. Inevitably you began to sigh from so many stimuli, right at the level of his ear, which only motivated him to continue.
As best he could he pulled the laces on the back of your dress and it didn't take long to get rid of the restraints. He slid one of your sleeves over your shoulder to begin kissing that section, the same way he had done with your neck. An indiscreet moan escaped you as your husband bit into your soft flesh and you could feel him smile against your skin.
“You're mine, right?” he sighed brokenly. You had tilted your head back to give him more space and he took the opportunity to lower the entire torso of your dress. “Only mine…”
With the same devotion he took care of your breasts and you couldn't do anything but continue alternating between sighs and some muffled moans. You could feel how he longed for you, eager to be able to kiss every inch of your skin even if it took him the entire night. Suddenly your body had become a temple, an object worthy of worship. The prince continued to distribute kisses that each time descended towards your belly, until with one hand he violently threw everything that was on the table and you ended up lying completely on it. Then he walked away.
You were about to ask what had happened when he took care of taking off your ballerina flats and throwing them somewhere far away in the room, only to stretch your leg up to the height of his torso to start kissing it. No one, not even him, had ever done that to you, so it was natural for you to be dismayed. His kisses moved quickly up your thigh and once he did that, he dropped to his knees in front of you. The skirt of your dress blocked your view and when you tried to get up something made you scream. Aegon had bitten into the tender flesh of your thighs, quite close to your crotch and with more force than he had hit your shoulder. You could only imagine his face when he carefully licked the mark he had surely left on you, once again making your chest exhale a moan.
What he did next and the sensation it caused, you could never have even imagined. That mouth, which most of the time was used for ironic puns and sloppy kisses, was now taking expert care of all of your pussy. Aegon was devouring you completely, touching just where it was necessary to make you squirm on the table. He wasn't careful at all; it was a touch hungry and extremely dirty.
You wanted to hold on as much as you could to keep yourself attached to reality, but it was difficult with your husband eating you like that. One of his arms wrapped around your leg and placed it over his shoulder, probably to give him better access. You had never moaned like that in his presence and it only made him harder and harder beneath the tight fabric of his breeches.
The pleasure was barely getting to your head when he stopped and a dissatisfied grunt escaped you shamelessly. Aegon laughed unabashedly at this, pleased at the control he had gained over you, and then went up again to kiss you hungrily. You couldn't do anything but welcome his salty lips and you moaned against him as he leaned against your body and you could feel his crotch, not knowing if it was your own wetness or his that was present.
He held you from behind and, without stopping kissing you, carried you until he placed you on the bed. You considered it somewhat unfair that your husband already had you trembling beneath him and still hadn't taken off a single piece of clothing, but your complaints were silenced when he hurriedly pulled his shirt over his head and took off his breeches in record time. In the same way, he pulled your dress towards your legs so that a second later it ended up on the floor, along with everything else.
He knelt down on the mattress and spread your legs roughly, lining himself up with your entrance. He began to rub the tip of his member up and down your already wet center and that did nothing but drive you crazy again.
When a delicate, pleading, «please» escaped your swollen lips, Aegon knew it was more stimulating to have you begging for him than to worry about only satisfying himself.
He played with you for a while longer, smiling from ear to ear at the sight of his delicate, pretty wife vibrating from having him close, until he finally plunged into you. For the first time there was enough wetness in you that the stroke felt satisfying rather than painful and both of you let out a delicious moan.
He set the pace, slow at first, but after a while his movements became more desperate. He wanted to get to the core of you, he wanted to fill you completely so you knew that only he could make you feel that way. When his body began to ache he leaned towards you, resting each of his arms on the side of your head and looking directly at you. You had stopped looking away from him, now you were looking at him with your mouth open with pleasure, your eyes watery and your pupils dilated on your completely flushed cheeks.
“Aegon,” you sobbed pathetically, clouded by everything you were experiencing and proving that it wasn't long before you reached your orgasm.
You had never called him by his name. You always referred to him as «your grace», «prince» or «husband», at best. So hearing his name come out of your lips like that, under those circumstances, was too much for him to bear.
Knowing that he couldn't last much longer, one of his hands moved down to rest his thumb on your clit and once there he began to make erratic circles. You closed your eyes, completely seized by pleasure and a couple more thrusts were enough to make you lose the battle. Hearing your whimpers, combined with the way your walls squeezed him, was enough to make him cum too. With trembling legs you felt the warm liquid filling you and, for the first time, it was comforting.
When Aegon plopped down next to you, you immediately missed his body warmth. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to catch the breath that the orgasm had taken from you. You could clearly feel your heartbeat bouncing off your bare chest and the stinging sensation coming from your crotch and running through your entire body was something you could get used to. Your hair had stuck to your face from the sweat and not to mention your lips, which you felt were burning from your husband's attention.
Aegon had already had many orgasms in his life so this time he decided to turn his gaze a little to see you enjoying yours. The mere idea that he was responsible for your condition made him completely shake.
“You look beautiful,” he blurted out suddenly. You thought he had heard wrong because of the rush, but from the way he was smiling at you, you highly doubted it. “Just like that”
“Like what?”
“Freshly fucked. Well fucked” he corrected himself.
A laugh bubbled up from within you and you blushed even more, if that was possible, perhaps from the nerves and elation of what had just happened. The man stood up a little from his seat and leaned down to kiss you, although this time he did it with a calm and affection that you never thought you would see in him. It was just that he couldn't deny it anymore; from that moment on he would become an open book for you, where you could see all his feelings, desires and fears.
“I don't know why you're doing this,” you suddenly murmured and Aegon pulled away enough to look at you “And I don't know why you've been acting like this these past few months. But I like it. I think it's a good time for you to know."
“You said I could choose who I am,” he said meekly. One of his hands grabbed your chin and stole another fleeting kiss from you. “I haven't forgotten, every word is present in my head. It's just... sometimes it's hard. And I thought I would have a better chance with you, even with the things I did to you when we got married”
You smiled at him and were happy to know that the change in his behavior was because of the talk you once had with him. If he continued like this, ignoring the demons inside him and trying to be better, then your marriage had a chance to become more than just a condemnation.
Driven by the pleasant feeling growing in your chest you reached out towards him to reward him with a kiss. The man's breath hitched when you pushed him to the side and reversed roles, now you being the one pampering him while he was lying down. There was a playful glint in your husband's eyes as you looked at him.
“Do you know this is the first time you kissed me?” he exhaled softly.
You couldn't believe that was possible and for a few seconds you tried to remember so you could contradict him. But every time you remembered you realized that it was always him who initiated the contact to which you only responded, so, effectively, it was the first kiss you gave him out of conviction.
Maybe it was an omen that something good was coming.
Still happy with how everything had turned out, you snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest while he hugged you and threw a sheet over your bodies. You planted a hand on his bare skin and began drumming your fingers, alternating with small circles made with the greatest delicacy.
You were silent for a long time, you even thought that your husband had fallen asleep until you heard him speak again:
“It's also the first time I'm doing this.”
“Are you talking about sex, your grace?”
“No, I'm talking about cuddling,” he confessed softly, his hand caressing your back the same way you did with him, “And don't call me your majesty anymore. I am Aegon. Or my prince, at any rate. But my is important”
With the affection worthy of a wife, you raised your head to place a kiss on his cheek and assured him that from now on you would call him that in the privacy of your chambers.
Suddenly, after another moment of silence, Aegon pulled you close to him as if afraid you were going to suddenly evaporate. Intending to calm his fears, you climbed until you were on top of his body, hiding your head in his neck so that the distance became minimal.
There was silence for another couple of minutes.
“Do you think I can ever be forgiven?”
Apparently the atmosphere of the moment had managed to soften the boy's heart.
“We can all be absolved, Aegon.”
"And you?"
"Me what?"
“Do you think you can ever love me?” you were quiet for a second, thinking about your response. Then, he added “Or could you at least try? It would be a nice detail for me. No one has ever done it before.”
Not wanting to ruin the mood with a false word you decided to kiss his neck gently and that was enough of an answer for him. He would have to trust in your goodwill and that he could continue to restrain his impulses to keep this newly discovered gem that was his wife. With some luck you could even be that person he prayed for so much all his life, one with whom he could feel safe.
The slowing of the man's breathing revealed to you that he had already fallen asleep and you discovered that it seemed not so bad to find yourself in that position, sheltered by your lover's arms.
Under that scenario, the idea of eventually loving Prince Aegon Targaryen no longer sounded so far-fetched.
#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon the second#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen x fem!reader#aegon targaryen x female reader#aegon targaryen#aegon x you#aegon x reader#aegon x y/n#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd x reader#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon fanfic#aegon targaryen fanfic#aegon targaryen fic#aegon ii targaryen
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The villains are utterly confused.
They remember the first robin. They remember how bloodthirsty the little gremlin was, how he appeared out of the darkness with a “HIYA FOLKS” that gave people near heart attacks with PTSD so bad they flinched everytime they walked into a dark corner. They remember his grin, baring few too many teeth with a glint in his eyes whenever the bat wasn’t around to curb him. They remember the death stare, the brooding that made no one doubt this was the Bat’s son. They remember how a punch would land a lot harder than it was supposed to, or the screaming that followed. Oh they remembered him alright.
The second one thank the stars was better. The second robin was giggly. He would hop around town, offering his help to everyone who needed it. Sure he was rough with abusers but hell no one cared about them. Matter of fact, the villains were glad because those assholes deserved no sympathy. They remember his puns, his wonder, his innocence and his spark. They remembered his laughter, his concern - the kind that only comes from one who’s been on the streets. This one was better, and the villains thanked their lucky stars. They remembered him alright.
But now, as the years passed and new characters emerged, the crime city saw the rise of two characters - a sunshine happy nightwing and a ready to kill red hood. And naturally, from their experiences in the past, the villains ended up making an honest mistake that ruined the two vigilantes’ reputation:
The villains assumed the first robin was Red Hood and the other was Nightwing. And BY GOD Gotham has not seen unhinged chaos like this.
SCENE 1
Red Hood *drawing his pistol* : Please, reach for your weapon. I’m itching for an excuse for my intrusive thoughts to become extrusive.
Two-Face: You dare mock me little bird?! Well.. I may not have my weapon.. but I have something I know you’d like..
Red Hood: Oh yeah?What’s that?
Two-Face: TAKE THIS! *slams button and coconuts start falling from the sky, all cracking and spilling as they hit the ground*
Red Hood:
Two-Face:
Red Hood: .. the fuck was that supposed to do?
Two-Face: .. HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?! YOU HATE COCONUTS ROBIN!!
Red Hood: The fuck- .. wait did you call me robin?
Two-Face *grins* : Yea.. robin. The first one. Thought I didn’t notice?
Red Hood: The first one? Does this *gestures vaguely to himself and his weapons* seem like something the first robin would do?
Two-Face:
Goon 1: I mean.. yeah
Red Hood: What! The first robin was nice!
Goon 2 *guffawing*: I beg your fucking pardon??
Two-Face: .. you took my coin and attached a magnet beneath it so everytime I flipped it it wouldn’t stop spinning. Do you know how long that took me to figure out?? Do you know how insane it drove me?? Joker had to help me out of pity. OUT. OF. PITY.
Red Hood:
Goon 1: ..Also you did steal some of our bones
Red Hood: hedidfuckingwhatnow-
SCENE 2
Nightwing: Hey there buddy! You look frostyl!
Dr. Freeze: Aha! You are too late to stop me robin!
Nightwing: .. robin?
Dr. Freeze: why yes! Don’t act coy, I know it’s you there. Now that we’ve got that clear.. I was wondering if you remembered all those years ago when you gave me a source for electricity to power a hospital keeping my Nora?
Nightwing:
Dr. Freeze: well you weren’t careful enough and never told me how much I could take from it.. so I used it to power so many of my inventions that came after
Nightwing *remembering when Jason was robin and every damn time he came to visit Wayne Manor his room would always run out power and the countless cold showers in freezing winters he had to take because of it*: .. oh? Well, sorry to break your bubble, but that wasn’t me Elsa.
Dr. Freeze: no? You joke around, make puns and I’m supposed to believe it’s NOT you?. The first one brooded like there was no tomorrow. He pissed me off so bad once I overheard him saying his favourite ice cream flavour and I made sure it wouldn’t be available in Gotham for YEARS. You’re not as bad as the first one. I’d remember if you were him.
Nightwing:
Nightwing *firing up his escrima sticks to maximum voltage*: Oh let me jog your memory then :)
#batman#dick grayson#nightwing#jason todd#red hood#tim drake#batfam#bruce wayne#damian wayne#headcanons#dr freeze#robin!dick grayson#robin!dick#robin!jason todd#robin!jason#joker#batbrothers#batfam headcanons#two face#Harvey sent
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Rent Free // LN4
| pairing: lando norris x reader
| summary: reader plays a tiktok prank on Lando
| warnings: none, almost excessive use of pet name "babe"
| authors note: saw this trend on tiktok and thought it would suit lando
You were sat cross-legged on the couch, your phone propped up on a stack of books on the coffee table, secretly recording. A trend of pranking your boyfriend has been blowing up on TikTok and one prank in particular had you wanting to join in on the fun. The mission: convince Lando that you couldn't help pay the mortgage this month.
The tricky part of this prank? You've never paid the mortgage before. Lando, being the darling angel that he is, insisted on covering mostly all of the bills, especially since he was earning a Formula 1 driver's salary and you were still just a student. Despite this obvious roadblock, you thought the prank was too funny not to try.
Lando was sitting on the couch across from you, humming as he scrolled on his phone. His curls were still damp from his post-workout shower, and he looked adorably cozy in one of his many oversized Quadrant hoodies.
"Babe," you called over to him, trying not to raise any suspicion while still sounding serious.
"What's up?" he questioned, looking up from his phone, eyes slightly widened due to your tone.
You took a deep breath, setting the scene, "I just needed to let you know... I can't help pay the mortgage this month."
His eyebrows shot up at this, confusion flickering across his face. "What?" voice laced with disbelief.
"I just... I just can't. I don't have the money this month," you said with an exaggerated sigh, wanting this to seem as genuine as possible.
Lando blinked at you, and just stared before the corner of his mouth began to twitch up into a smile. "Wait, wait, wait... what?" he asked again, this time following it with a small laugh.
You put on your best sad face before repeating, "I can't help pay the mortgage."
His confusion gave way to amusement as he leaned back into the couch he was on, putting his phone down fully and crossing his arms. "Help pay the mortgage? Babe, since when do you pay the mortgage?"
You bit your lip, trying not to let yourself laugh. "I'm serious Lando."
"Oh, you're serious?" he asked, voice dripping in sarcasm. He started laughing, the kind that made his nose scrunch up and tears fall from his eyes. "Babe," he gasped, "you've never paid the mortgage. Not once."
"Well, I could've been helping!" you argued, trying to keep a straight face.
"Helping?" Lando was full-on smiling now, shaking his head at you. "With what? Emotional support as I transferred over the money every month?"
"Ok, rude." you huffed, looking away and crossing your arms as if you were offended.
He stood up from his spot to come and sit with you, "Where is this coming from? Did you have a dream you were secretly paying the bills or what?"
"No! That's crazy!" you giggled.
Lando narrowed his eyes at this, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he gasped, "Wait... is this a prank!?"
You froze and you knew that your eyes gave it away.
"Oh, it is! You muppet, are you filming this?" His eyes darted around the room before landing on your phone he somehow didn't notice, and he burst out laughing again.
You couldn't hold back any longer, laughing along with him. "Okay, okay, yes! It's a TikTok trend!"
He shook his head at you, still laughing as he turned off the recording.
"You muppet. You're unbelievable, thinking you could make me believe you help with the mortgage."
"I thought I was doing a good job!" You defended yourself, sliding yourself under his arm to snuggle into his side.
"Babe, you're incredible at many things but lying will never be one of them." He said, pulling you closer to him.
You pouted at this, "Well maybe I should help just to prove that I can." you suggested.
Lando laughed at you again, placing a kiss to your forehead.
"You don't need to prove anything, love. Being able to come home to you is all I need."
Your heart melted at his sweet words, and you smiled while placing a kiss on his cheek. Your prank was definitely a success, even if he wasn't fooled for long.
#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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Woman of the Hour is great because it perfectly captures the moment you realize a man is dangerous and it's not when he goes all dramatic disney villain glares smirks or whatever and it's not even when he starts making unwanted sexual innuendos i mean those are awful too but the moment comes way before and it's more subtle and only another woman could describe it and that's why this movie would have been shitty if it had been made by a male director it's the moment when his face drops because the answer you gave didn't go with how he imagined the conversation going or the moment he calls you the love of his life after talking to you for five minutes and his mood shifts when you don't respond in kind this is the horror i actually want from slasher/serial killer horror the killing itself can be as graphic and gory as the director can make it and it will still seem goofy to me if it doesn't capture the uneasyness and the building tension before then and i really hope Anna Kendrick keeps making horror because she had me on the edge of my seat for 90 minutes without a single graphic scene that moment in the parking lot when she gives him a fake number and he calls her out on it and then he follows her to her car my heart was in my throat the whole time because it's real it's so real it's so scary also the whole movie despite being abour Rodney Alcala was seen from his victims' point of view too many true crime inspired shows focus on the serial kille rand make him the main character and focus on his emotions and his turmoil but Woman of the Hour focused on each of the victims when thye started feeling scared or the survivors who tried to report him and weren't believed and how scary it was that not even your loved ones believe you when you say it's him and she did all that without dehumanizing him he's not some monster he's a very human man with emotions and abandonment issues and he's a predator and a killer and she can humanize him without glorifying him and more directors should take note and learn from this
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—childhood sweetheart!
in which : as kids, you gave him a lollipop to thank him for his help, though you had no idea your kind gesture would spark a blossoming friendship —that would soon evolve into something far sweeter than candy.
pairing : alhaitham x gn!reader
wc 3.6k, childhood friends to (implied) lovers, one bittersweet scene but it's 99% tooth rotting fluff, kaveh n sumeru gang cameo!!, art by @/anno_meiji on x. reblogs r much appreciated!!!
@tragedy-of-commons @iceunhie fellow pissoners that told me to @ them + special thanks to beloved @synqiri for giving me ideas when i wrote this, salutations.
the house of daena was quiet, the air thick with the comforting scent of old books and polished wood; soft chatters among akademiya students drifted through the air, a gentle hum that mingled with the rustling of pages as scholars immersed themselves in their studies.
at a corner, you sat cross-legged, surrounded by volumes of scholarly tomes. yet, the real challenge before you wasn’t the big words or thick pages —but a far more irritating one: your shoelaces.
no matter how many times you tried, the laces refused to cooperate. they twisted and knotted themselves in ways that made you feel as if they had a mind of their own. you tugged at them over and over again, your small hands growing clumsy with frustration, making your struggle feel even more monumental.
you let out a small, exasperated sigh, your cheeks growing warm with the mounting irritation. who lets a five-year-old wear shoes with laces anyway?
a few feet away, sitting at a low table, was a boy a few years older than you, absorbed in a thick book that looked far too advanced for his age; the dense text and intricate diagrams didn’t seem to faze him at all. his expression remained one of calm detachment, his eyes moving over the pages meticulously. though even amidst his immersion in the book's complex diagrams and equations, your struggle still drew his attention.
with a sigh that sounded more out of obligation than concern, he set his book aside with precise care and approached you with a smooth, deliberate stride. his expression remained neutral, his eyes barely meeting yours as he knelt beside you.
“you’re having trouble with your laces,” he remarked, his tone even and matter-of-fact.
you looked up and nodded at the boy, relief evident in your eyes. “can you help me?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly with embarrassment.
without a word, he reached for your laces. you watched as he deftly untangled the mess you’d created, his movements precise and unhurried. with a few twists and loops, he had the laces neatly tied in no time. “there,” he said, standing up and brushing his hands off.
“thank you for helping me... um—”
“alhaitham,” the boy, who you now knew as alhaitham, spoke in a calm voice.
you smiled in return, relieved. “thank you, alhaitham.”
“it was nothing. i’m glad i could assist.” he said before glancing down at your shoelaces again, his tone as impersonal as ever.
you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small, brightly wrapped lollipop, its cheerful wrapping seemed almost too vibrant for his reserved demeanour. nevertheless, you held it out to him, “i want to give you this,” you said earnestly. “as a small token of my appreciation!”
he glanced at the lollipop, then back at you. you simply tilted your head in response. after a brief moment, he accepted it with a slight nod. “thanks,” he said simply before pocketing the sweet.
you smiled, “i’m [name], by the way.”
“i’ll remember that,” he replied, his tone softening slightly.
with that, you gathered your books, carefully stacking them in your arms as you rose to your feet. “i need to go now. see you around, alhaitham!” you grinned and gave a small wave before turning to leave, your footsteps growing faint as you walked away.
and though little-you didn’t know it at the time, that small act of kindness, wrapped in bright paper, would linger in his memory for years to come.
years passed. by now, it was clear that alhaitham was a prodigy, the sharpest of minds among those his age —a teenager admired by many, regardless of age. yet, such exceptional talent often attracts a level of jealousy that goes beyond mere admiration.
however, much like his aloof demeanour, he remained indifferent to the opinions and whispers of displeasure of others, even now, as he stood surrounded by students, their voices dripping with sarcasm and disdain.
"so, alhaitham," one of them jeered, "being a genius must be lonely, huh? too smart to have any real friends?" the others snickered along, clearly revelling in his deliberate silence. they envied the recognition and success he had achieved —things they could only dream of, and that envy fueled their petty desire to bring him down, even if only for a fleeting moment.
enough was enough.
“hey, give it a rest,” you interjected, your tone dripping with sarcasm. ���oh, wait —it’s not like you have anything better to do than make fun of someone who’s actually achieved something, right?”
the laughter from the group began to die down as they turned their attention to you, the tension in the air thickening.
you tilted your head in feigned curiosity. “or is it the only thing you’re good at?”
the student’s face twisted into a scowl, clearly caught off guard by your retort. after a moment of fumbling for words, he muttered defensively, “whatever. like you’re so perfect yourself.”
you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. “seriously? that’s the best you’ve got?”
you met their gazes with a defiant smirk, enjoying the way their bravado faltered under your words. “it’s one thing to have nothing between those ears of yours, but there’s no need to be a jerk about it.”
they hesitated for a moment, stung by your remarks and clearly feeling their egos take a hit, they found themselves at a loss for words. finally, one of them muttered something under his breath before they all turned and slunk away, embarrassed.
as the last of their footsteps faded, you turned back to alhaitham, who was watching you with a slightly raised eyebrow. "you didn’t have to do that," he murmured. you shrugged, offering him a wry smile. "i know. but i wanted to.”
“besides, someone has to keep those idiots in check."
alhaitham regarded you for a moment longer before the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "thank you.” you caught the subtle shift in his expression, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. it was rare to see him react this way, and it made your small victory feel all the more rewarding.
you couldn’t help but grin.
“—you smiled!” giggling, you leaned in closer to him, as if sharing a secret. “i didn’t think i’d ever see that day.”
“no, i did not.” his expression snapped back to its usual deadpan, as if his momentary lapse had never happened.
“no? well, then you should smile more.” you slid into the chair next to him,
“why?”
you pulled out your book and opened it to the page marked by your bookmark. “you look good when you smile,” you said casually, your eyes still focused on the material in front of you as you unwrapped a candy and chewed on it, savouring the sweet taste.
alhaitham didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed intently on the pages in front of him. though when he briefly turned his head to the side, his stoic expression faltered.
a faint smile tugged at the edges of his lips; he angled the book slightly higher, hiding his expression from view, while the subtle curve of his lips remained just barely visible.
it was a fleeting moment —nearly imperceptible, but unmistakably there.
“happy birthday, [name]!”
you clink your glass with dehya’s, the sound of the toast ringing out amidst the lively chatter. she grins and downs her drink in one swift motion, her laughter echoing as the others join in, raising their glasses to you.
nilou approaches you with a soft smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “i have something for you,” she says, holding out a small, intricately wrapped box. you open it to find a delicate bracelet nestled inside.
“i hope today brings you as much joy as you bring to us.” you smile and thank her as she helps you fasten the bracelet around your wrist.
you glance over to where alhaitham is sitting, only to find him already looking at you; he gives you a slight nod before burying his face back into his book. though you notice that alhaitham's usual noise-cancelling headphones are conspicuously absent, as if choosing to be fully present, especially when you're near.
suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder. when you turn around, you’re greeted with kaveh’s unmistakable grin, “surprise!” he exclaims with a flourish, his voice brimming with infectious enthusiasm. he extends a beautifully hand-carved, ornate wooden box to you, “go on, open it!” he urges, barely containing his excitement.
with a nod, you carefully lift the lid, revealing the contents inside. the box is lined with rich velvet, and nestled within is a tiny, intricately designed music box and a set of miniature sculptures —as expected, his craftsmanship is nothing short of impeccable. you thank him graciously and carefully set the box down on the table beside tighnari’s gift.
as the evening unfolds, you notice alhaitham occasionally glancing up from his book, his gaze fixing on you, each glance subtly drawing your attention. his eyes, typically so absorbed in the pages, now linger on you with a soft intensity that speaks volumes.
it’s obvious that the night has come to an end when you glance to your side and can’t help but chuckle at the sight of kaveh, completely blackout drunk and slumped over the couch.
“don’t worry, we’ll handle him,” cyno heads for the door after lifting kaveh over his shoulder with ease; he shares a knowing glance with tighnari. “enjoy the rest of your night!” with a final wave, they disappear out the door, leaving you and alhaitham alone in the cozy tranquillity of your home.
“looks like it’s just us now,” you say, sinking onto the sofa beside him and stifling a yawn, the night clearly taking a toll on you.
“indeed,” alhaitham replies, his gaze softening as he looks over at you. he reaches behind him and holds his hand out towards you with his fist closed.
“here, a reward for your hard work,” he opens his palm to reveal a small piece of your favourite candy resting on it. “happy birthday, [name].”
the light from the candles flickers softly, casting a warm glow that dances across the room. it bathes the space in a gentle radiance, highlighting the perfect angles of his face and making him look all the more handsome.
alhaitham had never been a big fan of sweets. to him, they were a trivial indulgence, neither particularly enticing nor off-putting.
but for you, he might learn to like it more.
after all, if all it takes is a piece of candy to see your smile —sweeter than any treat known to mankind, then maybe there's a reason to enjoy them after all.
as you begin to nod off, he gently strokes your hair and carefully adjusts your position, guiding your head to rest on his chest.
with a soft sigh, he blows out the candles.
perhaps rationality has its limits when it comes to matters of the heart, for he can’t help but feel that love, in all its irrationality, defies the logic he clings to so fiercely. “love” didn’t follow the neat, predictable patterns of reason —it was wild, unpredictable, and utterly beyond his control.
yet, despite its chaos, or perhaps because of it, he was okay with it —he was okay with you.
“is it necessary for you to leave?”
“sorry haitham, it's for my research. but i’ll be gone for just a few years, and we'll cross paths again before you know it.”
just a few.. years? you must’ve really underestimated how long that’ll feel. he lets out a disapproving huff, his brows knitting together. “...where will you be going?”
“fontaine,” you replied, “the leylines there hold the key to my research, and it’s an opportunity i can’t pass up.” you hesitate for a moment before adding softly, “i wish you could come along… but with your duties as the acting grand sage, i understand that it’s not possible.”
“i suppose you’ve already made up your mind.”
you nodded, trying to muster a reassuring smile. “i have. but i’ll make sure to write whenever i can!” he studies your face for a long moment, as if committing every detail to memory, afraid he’ll forget the moment you turn your back to him.
“just... promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” he finally said, his tone more tender compared to a moment ago. “and don’t lose yourself in your research.”
you reach out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “i promise, haitham.” you open his palm and place a small candy in the centre before closing his fingers around it. “something to remember me by,” you add, your voice barely above a whisper as you look up at him.
his eyes trail your figure, his hands clutching the candy tightly, the wrapping paper crinkling in his fist as you start to walk away. midway, you pause, turning around to look at him once more, you flash him a warm smile before waving goodbye.
this time, unlike the first time you met, he returns the gesture with a wave of his own.
it’s unusual, uncharacteristic for alhaitham to lose his focus so easily.
the subtle crease in his brow —a dead giveaway to anyone who knew him well; and being his roommate, kaveh noticed it first.
leaning against the table, he glanced at the open book, then back at alhaitham. "you know, that page won’t read itself," he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
alhaitham didn’t bother looking up, his finger idly tracing the edge of the page. "i’m well aware." after a moment, he finally turned the page with a slight frown, his mind clearly not on the book.
cyno, sitting across from him, folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. "you’ve been staring at that same paragraph for nearly an hour.” he remarks, his tone laced with amusement. tighnari raises his eyebrows, lightly swirling the drink in his cup, “it’s rare to see you this distracted. must be something—or someone—truly exceptional."
alhaitham finally looks up, meeting their gazes with a flat expression, “you all certainly have a lot of free time," he remarked dryly.
cyno shrugs, shaking his head. "you’re just making it too easy, alhaitham."
tighnari, however, leans forward slightly, his gaze softening with genuine concern despite the playful edge in his voice just a minute ago. “but seriously,” he adds, “it’s perfectly fine to admit you miss [name]. we all do, after all, it has been a year.”
alhaitham sighs heavily, closing the book with a soft thud. “i’m perfectly fine."
"sure you are," kaveh drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "it’s not like you’ve been more irritable than usual —or, i don’t know, distracted by a certain someone who’s not here."
for once, alhaitham doesn’t offer a retort. instead, he quietly unwraps a candy and slips it into his mouth, letting its sweet taste wash over him.
but that is all the answer they need.
unbothered from the looks he receives from his friends, he signals the manager over, “boss, a box of macaroons to go, please.”
later that night, alhaitham sits in his room —he absently reaches for the box of macaroons but his hand lands on the bright candy wrapper crumpled on the table, though it seems out of place amidst the quiet room, it remains a perfect, poignant reminder of you, in his heart.
the notion of your sweetness is tantalising, one that mingles with the lingering taste of the macaroons on his palate, making him yearn for the real experience, to discover if you, too, could leave such a lasting impression.
—and truth to be told, i really missed you too. there's so much more i want to share with you, so many things i’ve seen and felt that only you would truly understand. but lucky for us, i’ll be at l'encre des marées in the court of fontaine, for the next few days! haitham, come visit me, will you?
alhaitham’s footsteps echo softly against the cobblestone street as he approaches the address you gave him.
a bookstore, huh. it seems fitting enough.
he folds your letter and slips it into the pocket of his coat; the gentle chime of the bell above the door announces his arrival. the warm, ambient light of the store envelops him —a voice rings out, welcoming him, but he pays it no mind.
he moves silently between the tall bookshelves, his gaze sweeping over the interior, searching for you within the labyrinth of aisles. though with no sign of you in sight, a faint crease forms between his brows, a subtle yet telling sign of his disappointment.
he comes to a stop in front of one of the shelves, the familiar scent of paper and ink wafting around him. might as well get something, he thinks. his hand hovers over the spines, his fingers brushing lightly against them; the choice is almost arbitrary, driven more by habit than intent.
the title barely registers in his mind as he turns away from the shelf. with the book in hand, he makes his way towards the counter. he places the book down with a soft thud, and lets his mind drift to you —your latest letter, the anticipation of seeing you here, the subtle disappointment of your absence; he imagines the sound of your voice, the way you might have greeted him had you been there, the little gestures that are make you, so distinctly, you.
the cashier’s voice pulls him back to the present. “thank you for your patronage!” the words are accompanied by the soft rustling of paper as the bag is handed over to him. he reaches out to take it, but just as he’s about to withdraw his hand, something else is pressed into his palm —a small lollipop.
he blinks, momentarily caught off guard. what? is this a… fontaine custom? he turns the lollipop over in his hand, the cashier’s voice continues, cheerful and slightly sing-song. “don’t forget to visit us again—”
or is he losing his mind? because the sound of your voice, so clear and familiar, “—alhaitham.” echoes his name as if you were standing right infront of him.
his eyes snap up, eyes widening ever so slightly as he looks at the cashier. and there you are, behind the counter, your gaze meeting his with a familiar warmth. he finds himself staring at you, the very person he had been hoping to see; you smile at him, the same smile he had imagined countless times... and his heart still skips a beat.
“life here in fontaine has been quite a journey.” you stroll side by side, alhaitham listens quietly, absorbing every detail as you recount your journey. your research, originally projected to take more time, has progressed exceptionally well; the results are promising, and you’re now ahead of schedule, which means that you’ll be back in sumeru in less than a week’s time (much to his pleasure).
as you both turn a corner, you suddenly stop and turn to face him. “i’ve been doing all the talking so far,” you smile up at him, “what about you?”
“nothing much, things have been…” he begins, pausing as he searches for the right words. he glances around, just as street lamps flicker to life before continuing, “...rather routine.”
(he’s not lying, no, never to you. “routine” as in routinely thinking about you nonstop —yes, that’s the underlying meaning, though his outward implication is quite… mundane.)
though what you didn’t quite expect next was for alhaitham to extend his hand towards you, his pinky raised in a gesture like an earnest request for a pinky promise. dumbfounded, you chuckle softly, “what’s this for?”
without waiting for an answer, you decide to indulge him, linking your pinky with his. as your thumbs briefly touch, you catch the look in his eyes —serious, yet with a softness that makes your heart skip. “a promise that i’ll be by your side as long as sugar tastes sweet,” he says, his voice low and sincere.
he gently turns his hand downward, his fingers sliding smoothly between yours, interlocking them in a firm yet tender grip. slowly, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of it. “so, come back with me, [name].”
his thumb continues to trace lazy circles on your skin, drawing you closer. leaning in, his breath is warm against your cheek, the space between you vanishes as he tilts his head slightly, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours, close enough that you can almost taste the promise in his words.
his eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up. you catch his gaze and a small smile starts to form, “you don’t have to ask me twice.”
your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush softly against yours —and he tastes the first bite of a sun-warmed strawberry, a burst of sweetness that lingers on his lips, leaving him craving more. utterly intoxicating, like the scent of honey carried on a warm breeze, filling the air with a fragrance that makes him close his eyes and breathe deeply, savouring the moment.
you taste just like summer —vivid, unforgettable, and leaving him yearning for those endless days and nights, where his world is alive with sparking memories he clings to as the seasons change; so much so that even when autumn's chill begins to settle, he can't help but reach out for the warmth that only your presence can bring.
but most importantly,
you taste unbelievably sweet.
good question google
MASTERLIST.
#✧renwrites!#—stellaronhvnters.#alhaitham x reader#al haitam x reader#alhaitham x you#al haitham x you#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham fluff#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic#genshin impact x reader#genshin x you#genshin impact x you#genshin x y/n#alhaitham genshin#genshin imagines#genshin fluff#genshin impact#alhaitham
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Director Kirk Wise, screenwriter Linda Woolverton, and actor Robby Benson on casting the Beast [x]
They gave me an incredible amount of freedom. I didn't want Beast to be a cartoon character. I played it as though I were doing a Broadway show. As if this was a living person. And I wanted him to be funny. By funny, I don't mean shtick or one-liners. I am talking about real comedy. When real comedy works, and is truthful, especially with the Beast, it comes out of the fact that he is so pathetic. For some reason, I really understood that. Ha! Because of that, they gave me a lot of leeway. [x]
My first audition was recorded on, of all things, a Sony Walkman. As a musician, I had branched out into recording engineer and loved to play with sound. When I saw the Sony Walkman I knew it had a little condenser microphone in it, and if I were to get too loud, the automatic compressor and built-in limiter would 'squash' the voice— and there would be very little dynamic range to the performance. I did a quick assessment and wondered how many people who had come in to audition for the part were making that error: playing the Beast with overwhelming decibels, compressing the vocal waveforms. I decided to give the Beast 'range.' Because of my microphone technique, and an understanding of who I wanted Beast to be, they kept asking me to come back and read different dialogue. After my fifth audition, Jeffrey Katzenberg the hands-on guardian of the film, said the part was mine…
Beauty and the Beast was so refreshingly fun and inventively creative to work on that I couldn't wait to try new approaches to every line of dialogue. Don Hahn is one of the best creative producers I have ever worked with. The two young directors, Kirk Wise and Gary Trousdale, were fantastic and their enthusiasm was contagious. I not only was allowed to improvise, but they encouraged it. It never entered my mind that I was playing an animated creature. I understood the torment that Beast was going through: he felt ugly; had a horrible opinion of himself, and had a trigger-temper. Those are things that, if done right, are the perfect ingredients for comedy. Painful and pathetic comedy— but honest. The kind of comedy I understood...
In the feature world of Disney animation, the actors always recorded their dialogue alone in a big studio, with only a microphone and the faint images of the producers, writers, directors and engineer through a double-paned set of acoustic glass. Paige O'Hara and I became good friends; it was her idea that for certain very intimate scenes, such as when Beast is dying, we record together. We were able to play these scenes with an honest conviction that is often absent in the voice-over world...
The success of this film was the culmination of a team effort but I must say, the honors go to the animators— and for me (Beast), that's Glen Keane — and to Howard Ashman and Alan Menken. This was the perfect example of a crew who 'cared'. And the final results (every frame) of the film represent that sentiment. [x]
#beauty and the beast#disneyedit#robby benson#kirk wise#linda woolverton#actor#director#writer#my gif
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Chances
~5k words
From Me: It's been about 2 minutes since my last love at first sight story so I figured that was long enough for another one. Just a silly little thing.
Warnings: A tiny bit of smut. Also she's shorter than Harry (only relevant for 20 seconds, max). Other than that, should be fluff fluff fluff.
Summary: Airports are gross, overpriced, and extremely anxiety-inducing. She hates being there.
But it's also where she sits with a really cute guy who makes her feel like she's flying from the moment she looks at him and before takeoff even begins.
What was it about airports that were so romantic? Everyone knew how gross they were. A petri dish of diseases on every surface. Overpriced food and drinks. Not to mention the exorbitant price of books and magazines. Almost everyone passing through was stressed with worry about missing their flight, losing their bag, losing their kid, or personal items. She was one of them. Even with an hour and half cushion she was worried it would take off or something while she was going to get a coffee.
Which was perhaps why she didn’t notice where she chose to sit at her gate. All that anxiety festering and building in her that only the relief of flopping into one of the seats near an outlet would release. She put her coffee in the little cup holder, tucked her bag beneath her feet and placed the overpriced book on her lap.
Someone called out for another person making her head tip up at the noise.
It was fate. Destiny. Whatever corny thing a romance writer would say it was. But there were only so many places her eyes could fall, and they happened to land on him.
What was it about making eye contact with a guy her age at the airport that made her feel like she was in a Hallmark movie? He gave her a polite smile. One that was downright pretty. Too pretty to be on a man's lips and one that made her heart skip a beat.
Hence why she was thinking about the romanticism of the airport in the first place.
She sincerely hoped she returned his kind smile because at the very least she didn’t want to be rude. But it was all a matter of seconds; this little romance novel scene she was playing out. Her cheeks felt warm with a rush of blood to her skin before she dropped her gaze back to her book. She had to. If she didn’t, she was going to do something crazy like profess how taken she was with him after meeting those stunning green eyes for half a second like the love at first sight she saw in movies.
But was that his gaze she felt heating up her skin? She refused to look up, but the words of her novel blurred together, and she could only think about how blue was one of her favorite colors growing up but green might have kicked that right out of the top spot in that moment.
*
Their flight was delayed which stressed her out beyond comprehension. It wasn’t even that long but if she didn’t have somewhere to be when she landed, she would have felt a lot better. She swore she was the last person to board the plane, and it only fueled her anxiety further.
But if it weren’t for the delay, her being last, or the fact that she was going to miss the rehearsal dinner for her friend’s wedding, the anxiety of seeing the hot guy from the gate was sitting next to her empty seat was surely going to give her a heart attack at the ripe age of her late twenties.
She felt her cheeks burning in recognition as he smiled again at her. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
That pretty face that was going to haunt her dreams for a lifetime. “Are you 12A?” He asked. The window seat, fortunately. His voice was warm and gentle.
“Yeah, sorry,” she bit her lip.
He chuckled standing in the aisle to get out of her way so she could get settled. “S’nothing t’apologize for.”
“I’m sure you thought you were going to have the row to yourself,” she sighed and placed her oversized purse on her seat so she could stow her carryon above her head.
“Allow me,” he offered and hoisted the bag to the storage space as if she hadn’t crammed a week’s worth of clothes and shoes inside it for only a long weekend. “S’okay. S’not a big plane. They said it was full.”
Stupid airports and their romantic goggles.
“Thank you,” she said gratefully and slipped into their row.
She noted all of his items were ready: a book tucked into the seat back compartment, a bottle of water stowed there as well, and his phone and headphones that he pulled from his pocket and placed on the tray once he was seated again. She fiddled with her bag, pulling out the items she wanted tucked into the spaces she had easy access to as well. Most importantly, she grabbed the travel package of disinfectant wipes to clean off her little home away from home for the next few hours.
“Oh, that’s a smart idea,” he smirked admiring her tidiness.
“I think Covid taught me that airplanes are one of the most disgusting places on the planet.”
He chuckled. “I suppose s’fair,” he nodded in agreement. “D’you have an extra one?” He asked. She nodded and held the little package out to her row-mate. He took two and repeated her routine to clean. The air vent, the tray table, the belt buckle and arm rest. He used the second to wipe down his headphones, phone, and book with a quick swipe. She held out a little sandwich bag she used for trash while on the plane. “Y’must fly a lot,” he smirked at her preparedness.
“Used to,” she took a deep breath. “I still get kind of nervous.”
“Honestly, would think y’were not human if y’didn’t get nervous.”
The announcements were being made and she focused on the flight attendants and their safety demonstration. Well, tried to. The man beside her was so handsome it was like he demanded to be stared at; it was hard not to comply to such a silent request. He looked effortlessly comfortable and so attractive it was unfair. But maybe it was those stupid airport goggles making her fall in love with someone relatively close to her age and perhaps he was only a little hot.
But as he reached for the air vent again, his sweatshirt sleeve slid down his wrist so that her eyes darted to his forearm and landed on the tattoo on the inside of his arm. It wasn’t even something she would qualify as a sexy tattoo, but it was there. As it appeared in her vision, all her dignity, self-respect, and thought of him being only a little hot, flew right out the window.
Stupid men.
The plane jolted a little as it started its take-off, making her gasp and she gripped the armrest tight. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as it settled into its rhythm. The final announcement that the ascent was going to begin came through the speaker and the plane got quiet as it always did at that time. “Hey, love?”
It was pathetic she recognized his voice already. Pathetic that she was going to respond to the little pet name. They had barely spoken. But the two little words were soft and sexy. In a gentle kind of way. She peeked out of one eye to glance at him. She swallowed thickly around the nerves. “Uh... yeah?”
“I can hold your hand, if y’want. S’just a tight grip y’got on m’arm,” it was so gentle. He didn’t even sound annoyed or pained. She gasped again, released his arm from her goddamn death grip, and covered her mouth. How fucking embarrassing. She didn’t even notice.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“No, s’fine,” he assured her, his smile was so kind. Like she was a wounded bird that he found after it flew into the window. “Here,” he offered pulling her hand from her mouth and laced their fingers together. “M’not a fan of takeoff either,” he explained giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
Did he feel how perfectly their hands fit together? Or did she imagine it? These airplane goggles were thick as hell. She was fucked when she got off the plane and never saw him again. They were silent during the remainder of the ascent and once the bell signaled that they could unbuckle, the pilot announced they were at cruising altitude, Harry gave her hand a squeeze again before releasing it.
“Thank you,” the sincerity in his voice made her blush and she was glad it was dark on the plane and the flight would remain dark. Because if she had to see how pretty his face was for the whole flight, she wasn’t going to make it. It was unfair that someone so handsome was seated next to her and she would never see him again. Someone who was thanking her for holding her hand. After she tried to rip his arm hair out.
Did his hand feel cold? Her hand felt cold. It was so ridiculous she just wanted to scream.
She had the worst luck.
*
Harry had the best luck. The pretty girl from the gate was in the same row as him. He got to hold her hand. The flight was only five or so hours long and the thought of it being delayed was miserable. But there she was looking so unbelievably beautiful.
There’s a REALLY pretty girl at my gate. He texted Mitch the second he saw her.
You better not be creepy. Sarah says there’s NOTHING worse than a guy being creepy at the airport.
I’m not going to make my soulmate uncomfortable. I’m just going to ask her every question that pops into my head to get to know her, and then ask how many kids she wants to have with me.
...Best of luck to her.
I’m probably not even going to talk to her :( She looks busy and what are the chances she’ll be sitting next to me? There’s no way I have that kind of luck.
But Harry did have that luck it seemed. The pretty girl was tucked into their row against the window, her head resting against the side of the plane. She was clean, organized, and adorable. He liked how she spoke to the flight attendant. Like she was a hinderance by being a passenger. It was sweet and he admired her kindness and thoughtfulness. She was so grateful when Harry handed her the little bag of pretzels and the drink she got.
“Reading something good?” She asked quietly.
Harry smiled and held it out to her so she could read the back cover. “Something m’sister recommended.”
She intently read the words on the back and nodded. “I think I’m going to add it to my never-ending list.”
God, he wanted to say he could give it to her when he was finished. But he was never going to see her again. So maybe he didn’t have the luck he hoped he did. “How ‘bout you?”
“Um...” she smiled. “It’s nothing... intelligent. It’s a brain-rotting romance thing. I don’t know, I like to read trashy stuff on the plane. Take my mind off it and everything else.”
“I see,” he didn’t ask Gemma a lot of questions, but he knew that meant it was filled with spicy romantic scenes that he could only dream about with someone as pretty as her. But that would be what Sarah called creepy, so he pushed that thought away quickly. “M’not a huge e-book person.”
“They’re good for travel,” she smiled. “I love bookstores, and I think I could build a whole house out of the books I have or want to buy. But traveling... it’s nice to have something compact. But I bought a book at the convenience store before we left. Which is so dumb because the mark up is like an extra ten dollars and I could have gotten it for free on this thing but the Wi-Fi is a bit of a problem sometimes, like I can’t get my new book to—” She paused as Harry listened intently. It was so disarming listening to her talk about books and her e-reader. It was adorable. Her eyes, even in the faint glow from the emergency airplane lights, were lit with excitement. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.”
“No!” He frowned, shaking his head hurriedly. He immediately missed the excitement in her eyes. “Y’weren’t. I never thought ‘bout how the traveling is easier with it. I had t’forgo a whole outfit t’get m’books in m’bag.”
She smiled and sipped her drink. “I always do that. Except I’m sure you felt how heavy my bag was, I didn’t do it this time. I told myself I wasn’t going to overpack and I just couldn’t do it.”
“M’sister has a hard time with it too.”
“It’s impossible, I think. Especially for an event, you know?”
Was Harry still smiling? He couldn’t stop smiling. She just had this air about her. The air between them was vibrating and it wasn’t because of turbulence. She had to feel it, right? Harry couldn’t be imagining this electric feeling that was pulsing between them. They were just sitting there, staring at each other.
“Can I say something crazy?” He asked.
“Crazy? Are you planning on murdering me?”
“No,” he chuckled. “I jus’...” he paused and scanned her face memorizing the moment wondering how on earth he could meet her again. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to have a plane ride back with her. But there couldn’t be that much good luck. “This is a bit...” he trailed off and he chuckled. His face was only inches from hers. She bit her lip.
“Yeah... it is.”
“S’crazy, right?”
She nodded. “It is,” she whispered back.
“Hi,” he said quietly, a smile growing on his face.
“Hi,” she giggled.
*
When the plane began its descent, he held her hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. It made her stomach flutter. As they left their little row, her heart hammered in her chest. How unfair it was that she would never see him again. He grabbed her bag from the compartment above and he walked with her all the way to baggage claim. They chatted a little more. Smiling and giggling. She didn’t even realize he was still holding her hand.
At least the airport goggles were working both ways it seemed.
“You let me go on and on about overpacking and you checked a bag?” He smirked, grabbed her hand again and led her toward the rideshare pickup spot. “Can I say something crazy?”
“Are y’planning on murdering me?” He asked.
“You felt it right?”
“Felt what?” The smile melted off her face and she dropped his hand like it burned her. “Whoa, hey,” he laughed and snagged it quick into his again. “S’bad joke,” he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly. “Course I felt it.”
She looked at her feet. The seconds felt like hours as she looked for something to say. “I don’t know where to go from here,” she frowned looking back at him.
“Yeah...” He sighed. “It’s...” he sighed. There was so much he wanted to say. So much she wanted to tell him. They needed more time, more space.
She wanted to live on that plane.
Harry wanted to stay at that airport.
She pushed up onto her toes and kissed him. It was crazy. Outlandish. Ridiculous. She cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his skin. He smiled on her mouth making her want to melt. His hand found her lower back, pulled her closer because in just sneakers she couldn’t reach his lips completely. With her firmly in his embrace, he nipped at her lower lip. It was so sinful she shivered.
The honking interrupted their moment, pulling each other apart. “I have to go,” she whispered looking at the Uber that matched the license plate listed on her phone.
“I know.”
“Hi,” she whispered with a quiet laugh.
“Hi.”
“It was... really nice meeting you,” her smile was so goddamn pretty it was going to make Harry cry.
“It was nice meeting you, love,” he answered. Safely tucked her into the back of the cab. She unrolled the window.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Harry,” he said.
“Harry,” she repeated. “Nice meeting you, Harry.”
*
“You have outdone yourself,” she smiled as she turned. The woman before her had a stunning smile, her hair half pinned, her white silk pajamas shimmering in the light. “They’re stunning.”
“You’re one to talk, I’d give you a hug but I don’t want to mess anything up,” she wrinkled her nose. “You love them?” She asked.
“I love them. They might upstage me.”
“I sincerely doubt it. You look stunning already.”
“Do you hate me for not making you a bridesmaid?”
“God, no,” she shook her head. “I’m more of a behind the scenes kind of person anyway. If you need anything today, I’m your girl,” she promised. “I was too far away,” she shrugged.
“Don’t remind me,” she frowned. “These flowers are the things of dreams. You are the best,” she sighed dreamily. “Can I see my bouquet?” Her frown quickly turned into a smile again. “I’ve been dreaming about it.”
She went to the bucket that was at the edge of what would be the ceremony floor and pulled the bouquet from it. She felt so proud and happy with the arrangement she made for one of her long-time best friends. “Seph,” she smiled. “You look beautiful,” she reminded her.
Persephone grinned admiring the bouquet. “You’re incredible... How was your flight? Other than delayed?”
“It was...” she tried to think about anything but the color green. “Good.”
“Oh?” Seph’s perfectly plucked eyebrow arched suspiciously “How good? Did you join the mile high club?”
“Oh my God, Persephone, of course not.”
“Well, you don’t say good like that if he’s not cute.”
A slight pause as she looked at the ceiling and then back at her friend. “He was really cute.”
“You’re a walking Hallmark movie.”
“That’s literally how I felt.” They giggled then she sighed thinking about the kiss she shared with a stranger. It was so unlike her to get all in a twist about a guy she just met. This wasn’t normal. It was like she was still in the airport. There were so many things they didn’t talk about. So many things she didn’t know about him and never would. It was unfair and yet she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she was still flying. Shaking her head, she turned to her friend once more. “Alright, I have to finish these flower arrangements. Not sure if you know this, but there’s a wedding happening here tonight.”
“Sorry about your airplane man, babe,” Seph squeezed her shoulder.
“Hey, no frowns. It’s your wedding day,” she turned back to the table she was working on before her friend’s interruption. “I think some moments are meant to just... exist in that moment.”
*
Harry had thought about only three things that day. Breathing, cake, and of course the beautiful girl he met on the plane.
You KISSED her?! Sarah asked.
I know... I’ve never met anyone like her.
That’s a real bummer, Harry, honestly. It was and Sarah was right. At first, he was joking, but now he was certain she was his soulmate, and he just let her go. But what choice did he have? Yes, there was the feeling of his heart beating faster. The excitement of making her laugh. But there was the calmness, the tranquility of being beside her. Holding her hand.
Maybe it was morbid, but Harry was certain he was looking for someone to hold his hand if the plane were to go down and maybe that’s what a soulmate really was.
It was easy. Easy to talk to her, make her laugh. It was easy to get to know her and he didn’t even know anything about her. He didn’t know where she was from, what she did, where she was going, but he just knew that she was his and he let her go. There were too many variables. Too many things he couldn’t control.
“Harry, you almost done?”
“Jus’ putting the finishing touches,” he mumbled.
“We’re going to be late!”
“They won’t start without us,” he rolled his eyes.
“If there is a speck of—”
“I’m clean, I’m clean,” he shook his head, coming to the other room and brushing his hands along his coat. “Let’s get married, yeah?”
*
The maid of honor talked about how lucky the pair of them were to find one another. How there were an infinite number of opportunities for them to not have met but there was this special moment destined for each other. Where Persephone would walk into the library to sit in her favorite study spot and if she wasn’t so superstitious she would have just found another table.
But instead, she walked right up to the table, told her future husband he was in her spot, and she was preparing for an exam, and she wouldn’t let him use her favorite seat.
The best man spoke about how he was actually destined to be with the groom for forever and ever which made the entire place laugh.
But talk of luck and destiny just made her feel miserable on the inside. If she asked for his number or where he lived, it would be hours from where she lived. She would be devastated. A kiss was a good ending to her little story. That would suffice.
Maybe he already had a girlfriend. That would work too. Something to make her feel like a horrible person and lessen the blow that her soulmate was somewhere out there never to be seen again. Harry was just a guy that held her hand on a plane and talked about books with her for hours so she wouldn’t be scared. Someone that split his snacks with her even though she didn’t know him.
No. She couldn’t think about him. She had to stop thinking about him. It wasn’t good for her brain or her heart.
It was a beautiful ceremony. That’s what she needed to focus on. Persephone was a gorgeous bride and the event was just... perfect. “I think I’ve given your name and number to just about every single woman here,” Seph said sliding into a seat beside her and kissed her cheek.
She laughed. “Well thank you,” she smiled. “Let me see,” she held her hand out for the one with her new jewelry and she admired the pretty diamond that glimmered alongside the new band of diamonds below it. “Everything is beautiful.”
“This place is beautiful because of you. Just like you said.”
“Oh... it was beautiful before. I just added to it.”
“I didn’t see it though. It’s a bargain if you can envision it like this. I seriously wouldn’t have picked it without you saying you’d do the flowers,” Seph explained. “You saw so much more than I did.”
She shrugged. “I don’t think there’s a place on earth that doesn’t benefit from flowers.”
“Well, thank you,” she squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t be having a wonderful day without you. I know it was a lot to travel out here and—”
“No, no. Don’t even. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Flowers or no flowers.”
Persephone grinned. “Well... in other news... do you see anyone as cute as your airplane man? Lerone has a lot of single friends.”
She smirked and shook her head. “No offense, Seph, but there is no one that’s going to be as cute as my airplane guy.”
“No one?”
Her head snapped up to the voice that she had already planned on dreaming about for the rest of her life. Her eyes met the same green gaze she had the pleasure of looking at for five hours while chatting about books and whispering about nothing of importance (but it all seemed important at the time). There was no way. She didn’t have this kind of luck. If there was a squeaky carriage at the grocery store she was sure to pick it. There was no way that—
“Hi Harry!” Persephone smiled. “Do you two know each other?”
“Something like that,” Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Hi,” Harry grinned at her.
She cleared her throat, adrenaline flowing through her body. “Hi,” she whispered breathlessly.
“Harry baked our cake. He went to school with Lerone.”
“Oh,” she swallowed.
“And I heard y’did all the work with these pretty flowers,” Harry smiled.
“She’s like the flower queen,” Persephone giggled.
“I see.”
There was a pause while they stared at each other. Harry grinning like a madman, he was sure. But she was stunning. A floral dress draped her body, her hair half pinned up. She was so pretty. Somehow even prettier than the way she looked on the airplane and Harry was certain she could never be prettier than the moment she sat next to him.
“Hi,” she laughed.
“Hi,” he chuckled.
“Of all the gin joints.”
Harry took a seat beside her. Persephone had moved onto the next table and yet, she hadn’t even noticed. “I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you, love,” he grabbed her hand. “Been thinking ‘bout the plane, y’e-reader, and that earth-shattering kiss.”
Her cheeks heated up and Harry reached out to brush his thumb on her cheek. “This is insane,” she whispered.
“I know,” he agreed.
“I don’t have luck like this,” she explained. “I’m the kind of person that has their luggage get lost. Or my coat will snag on the doorknob. If I didn’t want to be paired with someone in a group project in high school, I could guarantee I was going to be in their group.”
“Y’think it’s lucky you’re meeting me?” He practically wiggled his eyebrows. Trying to sound egotistical but all it did was make her fall harder for him.
Her heart skipped a beat. “Well...yeah,” she swallowed. “I mean... what else am I supposed to call it?”
“It doesn’t have t’be luck. Can jus’ be meeting you.”
“I don’t think it works that way for me.”
“Can I dance with you?” He asked.
“I’m not very good and I think there’s a good chance I’ll step on your toes and—”
Harry was already helping her stand and tugging her to the dance floor. She did step on his toes, not hard, but her quiet “sorry” was lost on Harry. It felt perfect to hold her in his arms. One hand in his, her other at the back of his neck, his free hand on the small of her back. They fit like puzzle pieces. “A florist, hmm?” He hummed right by her ear.
“A baker?” She replied.
He chuckled. “What are the chances?”
*
“D’you have any idea how good y’look?” He groaned. She was in just a T-shirt. Harry’s T-shirt. He propped his head in his hand as he looked at her laying in his bed. His finger skimming just below the hem of the shirt. It barely touched her thighs and the only thing that stood in his way was a scrap of fabric she called underwear.
She giggled. “Back at you.”
“This is insane,” he smiled and pressed his lips to hers.
“It is,” she whispered.
If all her bad luck had been to make this weekend happen, she was forever grateful. This was worth it. Harry was worth it. “When’s your flight?”
“Quarter of five. When’s yours?”
“The same, of course.”
She smiled and tucked her face into his chest. “How far away are you from my shop?”
“Only ‘bout a half hour drive,” he told her. “Why?”
“Just... wondering.”
“Jus’ want t’know how much time and distance is between you and a toe-curling orgasm?”
“Don’t be crass.”
“I wasn’t talking ‘bout you,” he peppered a line of kisses down the side of her face and along her neck, down the curve of her shoulder, even when the T-shirt got in the way. “You are so pretty,” he mumbled pulling at his shirt to touch her soft skin and curves. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so pretty.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“No, I’d remember you,” he smiled pressing his lips to her collarbone. He pulled the shirt off her and he brushed his thumbs across her nipples softly. Making them perk up more than they already were with the cold air from the room and no barrier between her. “Definitely remember this,” he mumbled into her skin.
“I have to pack,” she whispered but her voice was air and her resolve wasn’t there.
“Put it in m’checked bag,” his lips were occupied by one of her nipples making it extremely difficult for her to concentrate. “Jus’ shove everything in there. Then s’a promise I’ll see y’after we land.”
Her heart fluttered. “You want to see me again?”
He popped his head up from licking at her like she was candy. The air was even chillier against the sensitive skin without Harry’s warm mouth wrapped around her. “M’sorry, was I not clear?”
She smirked. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about airport goggles.”
“Airport goggles?” He repeated.
“I have really bad luck, Harry. I just worry that the idea of me in an airport because I’m roughly your age... or like, you know airplane food is a real thing? Not just a joke? Something about the altitude messing with your tastebuds or something. So maybe this is all an illusion, is what I’m saying. Maybe I am really unlucky because when we get back to our real life we won’t have airport goggles and—”
“Kitten,” he chuckled and rubbed his thumb across her lip. “Shh,” he whispered and pressed a soft kiss on her mouth.
“I’m just saying—”
“I know,” he rolled his eyes. “I hear you. But m’telling you, there’s no such thing as airport goggles. Even if there are, m’never taking them off.”
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CHEER FEVER !
SYNOPSIS! : nerd gojo and his pretty cheerleader girlfriend!
WC:(4k)+ warnings : college au, shy nerd gojo, cheerleader reader!, semi public,nicknames, pussy eating (sweetheart, baby),jealous gojo that’s all for now!
satrou wasn’t the jealous type of person in general, truth be told he couldn't help but feel that way when his pretty little girlfriend is a cheerleader catching the eye of a particular jock on the field while you were warming up with the rest of team, in your old fashioned—uniform with you pom pom before tonight’s game started with the rest of your teammates.
“satrou you okay, you’ve seem kind of out of it a little?” you pouting on him, crossing your arms over chest a little uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach, you knew him better than anyone even himself.
the question caused satrou to raise an eyebrow in curiosity, though he only gave a nonchalant shrug in response, "hm? oh, yeah, i’m fine i guess." satrou tried his best to hide his jealousy, though he failed utterly as his girl had seen right through him.
“you sure? I can walk you too class, while i finished up practice for the game.”
the offer from his you seemed to put satrou on ease, as his eyebrows no longer wrinkled and his frown turned into a small smile, "that would be nice of you." satrou replied, not really sure of what else to say. it's not like he can just outright admit that he's jealous, that would be just downright pathetic.
“of course I’ll see you after practice then” you waved him off, going back to the track with her cheerleading teammates.
satrou waved goodbye towards his you, watching you run back towards your teammates and practice without any further incident. her bubbly personality seemed to always brighten up his day, even when he was feeling a little down. it's almost as if everything went right with her around.
he watched the football team take a break, taking a moment to scan the crowd and observe everything going on around him. he let his eyes wander around the stadium, only to eventually settle on to—a familiar sight from your school. toji was, without a doubt, one of the best quarterback players on his team, and satrou had heard many praises his skill and talent over the years. his athletic ability and dedication were something to be envious of.
his star quarterback status was nothing to sneeze at either, making him a very desired figure among the female students at their school. satrou would hear stories about how the girls would fawn over him every time he stepped on the field.
toji's handsome gaze met yours, his green eyes locking in on yours and not relenting. he smirked at you in a teasing way, his confidence and charisma oozing from his pores as he walked over to you. he had a cocky and flirtatious look on his face, which only seemed to highlight his attractiveness.
as toji stepped off the field, he looked around toward where the cheerleaders were practicing. his eyes quickly met with yours, and he gave you a subtle wave, smiling in your direction. it seemed like the entire field and bleachers turned their heads to him now, as most of their eyes were glued on toji, staring intently, making it easy to see how attractive of a figure he was.
he was annoyed at the whole situation, his anger growing with each word that exchanged between you two. "who does the jock think he is? he thinks he can just walk up to you and expect you to just fall head over heels for him? he's lucky i'm not beating his ass right now."
toji's appearance certainly didn't help with your frustration surrounding him—he was handsome, beefy, and confident enough to walk up to you without even a care in the world. he had the entire stadium in a trance. the cheerleaders all fawned over him as he made his way toward you.
some girls even shouted his name to get his attention, hoping they'd be the lucky ones to be blessed by him. satrou watched the entire scene play out, finding himself growing increasingly irritated with toji's existence—biting the inside of his cheek.
not having much better to do with the half-time break, you decide to walk into the locker room to pick up something from your locker, taking the few free minutes you had to get some things in order before the game resumes. you weren't aware of just how long you spent in your locker when you suddenly felt a familiar presence approaching from behind you.
you were so involved in getting your stuff in order, you didn't notice toji. the arrogant-quarterback from the school's football team approaching from behind you. he leaned in towards you and let out a subtle chuckle, leaning his arm against the locker behind you and placing his body close to yours.
toji's smirk grew wider when he noticed the annoyed tone in your voice, his eyes shining with amusement as he stepped a little closer to you, putting him in your personal bubble. "do I really need to say?" toji replied, not taking his eyes off of you for a single moment—trying to woo you with his small talk wanting to get into your pants, plus you knew it really and wouldn’t give him that attention.
"I'm not dating you, forget it."you weren't amused by his actions at all, and instead, you were irritated and disgusted by his flirtatious antics.
the words that came from your lips made his smirk fade away in an instant, you putting him in his place had caught him by surprise. a small frown appeared on his lips as he stepped back from you, his hands coming out of his pockets, "I get that you're already dating someone, but that doesn't mean you can't have a little fun once and awhile, right?" he asked, a cocky smile returning to his lips.
honestly did he really think you were going fall for his charms and popularity status? what a joke.
the mention of satrou name had toji's eyebrow shooting up in surprise, though he didn't look very impressed by the information. he couldn't understand why a beautiful girl like you would lower yourself enough to date a nerd, especially when the jock sitting in front of you is offering himself to you like that. toji narrowed his eyes at you. "are you kidding me? you seriously prefer dorks over jocks?"
"yeah? why are you surprised at that?" you scoffed at his remarks clearly not impressed by his performance to try and seduce you, it was pointless almost.
toji's cocky smirk faded away once more at the blunt answer that came from your lips, your lack of embarrassment and straightforward tone made it clear that you were not flirting with him whatsoever, he was just wasting his time. "oh is that so? cause i highly doubt it." he said sarcastically, taking a step closer to you, once again, invading your personal bubble.
you don’t respond only giving him a blank look.
even though you had made your rejections perfectly clear, toji was stubborn, refusing to accept that the beautiful girl in front of him was not into him. he stepped even closer to you as you attempted to walk away, now placing his frame in front of you. "oh come on darling, i know you like me. i can tell by how much you seem to look my way all the time."
“trust me, i don’t.”
the sound of the pa system announcing that the game would start back up in a few minutes filled the stadium and the players with energy. you didn’t hesitate to follow the cheer leaders back towards the field, not letting toji get into your head and ruin your spirits.
however, toji wouldn’t give up so easily, as he quickly followed close behind you and tried to engage in conversation with you again.
despite his flirting antics, you chose to brush it off and ignore him. you've had enough of his ego and his attitude, and all you wanted to focus on was your team winning tonight. you continued walking, trying to block out his voice and the way he kept on trying to be close to you.
after a few minutes, you made it to the field where the cheer leaders were all practicing their performances for the game.
you felt your annoyance and anger build up as toji once again tried to engage in conversation with you. he was persistent and annoying, and he wouldn't take a hint no matter how many times you brushed him off. it was truly the most irritating thing you've experienced today?
was he really that desperate?
the sound of the pa system announcing that the game would start back up in a few minutes filled the stadium and the players with energy. you didn’t hesitate to follow the cheer leaders back towards the field, not letting toji get into your head and ruin your spirits.
however, toji wouldn’t give up so easily, as he quickly followed close behind you and tried to engage in conversation with you again.
satrou narrowed his eyes towards your direction, upon seeing that toji was still trying to engage in conversation with you—even after he was repeatedly told to go away—was enough to set him off.
he pulled you into a tight embrace, not letting toji get a word in edge-wise. however, this was only followed up by an uproar of gossip among the students, who began to crowd around you, toji, and satrou, creating some sort of chaotic scene.
the sound of their whispers filled the atmosphere, and the attention of the students shifted away from the game and towards the three of you in the middle.
the crowd continued to grow bigger and louder as the students started speaking among themselves, all wanting a glimpse at what was happening. toji, satrou, and you were now the main attractions, and the whispers quickly turned to gossip and rumors.
with the situation now growing out of hand, you could hear a few of the students snickering and laughing at the scene, making snarky remarks about all of you. people from all over the stadium gathered around to watch the scene unfold. it became almost impossible to hear anything over the sounds of the growing chatter coming from the crowd.
satrou was standing next to you, a fiery glint in his eyes as he glared at toji, not backing down from the situation.
a few whispers started spreading among the crowd when it became clear that satrou was confronting toji and was about to start a fight. some people in the crowd got up from their seats, hoping to see the action as it unfolded. some students started chanting "fight!" as they eagerly awaited the two to start brawling.
satrou blue eyes narrowed at toji, his tone becoming deadly and sharp as he responded with a few words. "so are you going to keep flirting with her like a pathetic dog or do you want your teeth knocked in?" satru kept his attention on toji, his grip on you becoming tighter with each word he spoke.
you saw satrou’s eyes flicker a dull red for a moment and a wave of heat radiating from his body. he had been angered by toji's insult enough to want to punch him in his face, but he couldn't lose track of what was important here.
he wanted to punch the jock into the ground for his comment and the way he would never leave you alone.
toji spoke up in response to satrou remarks, his demeanor and tone becoming more frustrated as he spoke. "as if a twinkie like satrou could actually punch me, I'm surprised he hasn't taken her out on a date yet." toji's cocky grin returned to his face once again, his expression becoming even more snarky.
this was getting out of hand fast.
satrou continued to trade insults towards toji, his anger and temper escalating even more as he spoke. "you're an idiot if you think you can be so pathetic as to walk up to another's man's girl and flirt with her right in front of them." the crowd around you grew louder and louder, many people cheering for satrou while they watched the two argue.
toji’s smug smile only grew wider as he responded, his words becoming more sarcastic and arrogant. "look, twinkie, i'm just doing what any other jock would do. you should be thankful that i let you have her for so long." the crowd of students grew even louder at toji's comment as he continued to smirk smugly at him, trying to get under his skin even more with his words.
gojo clenched his fist practically turning white from his comments even hearing toji's smug remark, and his patience was running thin at this point. he finally lost it. gojo suddenly swung his fist like lightning as it connected straight to toji's jaw with a loud smack. it was enough to make toji's whole head whip back, his eyes widening in shock as gojo fist landed right on his cheek.
"you'll be sorry for hitting me, twinkle," toji sneered, a smirk still plastered on his face despite the bruise now forming where satrou had punched him.
the crowd was still in an uproar, many of them cheering for satrou while others were trying to instigate another fight. the guard still held satoru and toji at different sides of the building, making sure they couldn't get their hands on one another any longer.
you followed satrou as he was being escorted to the other side of the building. you didn't want to even look towards toji at this point, as you were annoyed with his incessant flirting and harassment directed at you.
satoru was still hot-headed and angry after their altercation, as he kept muttering curses and insults under his breath when he wasn't addressing the guard. he seemed like he was having a hard time keeping his temper in check.
you saw satoru finally letting himself relax. sitting down on the bench next to you and taking your hand in his. his expression softened, and his body language relaxed as he slowly let go of his tension. he was relieved that it was over and that no one had gotten hurt in this whole ordeal.
satrou’s grip on your hand was tight and comforting—feeling the tension still lingering from the encounter that’s was moments ago. he looked over at you with a relieved expression, and his mind was focused on having you by his side and calming his nerves.
you're taken aback as satrou grabs your arm and pulls you away to the vacant locker room, where you two had some privacy. he wrapped his your arm was tight and firm, but not in a rough manner as he dragged you along.
once you were inside the locker room, satrou closed the door behind him and pulled you close to him in a intimate manner.
he slender arms looped around you, his breath becoming a little heavier as he pulled you closer. he didn't need to say anything else to tell you that he wanted you right now, his whole aura was telling you that.
your bodies were pressed up against each other, and his lips were hovering dangerously close to yours—nothing more than to let out that pent up energy that’s lingering inside of himself.
“can’t believe that asshole.” satoru mumbled against your lips, kissing the inner curves of your mouth. his slender hands roamed over your body squeezing your waist pulling you closer to his board chest fitting together—two puzzle pieces together as one.
‘your nerd of a boyfriend can’t satisfy you’ tsk let me prove him wrong? hm baby?” he states in a mocking tone a small smirk plastered on his lips, knowing his words were a complete joke to him. satrou knew you inside and out and knew the right ways to make you cum wether it be from his fingers alone or his tongue every time, never fails to make you fold underneath him—like pure putty in his hands.
your body felt warm and euphoric as satrou's lips moved along the corner of your mouth, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. your breath grew shorter and shorter with each kiss to your neck and each inch closer to your lips. his tender kisses felt like a sweet and gentle massage, making your body tingle with euphoria.
your whimpers were like music to his ears, filling him with an intense urge to take whatever he wanted. he was fully intent on taking complete ownership of your body with his touch.
“toru…come on the game starts back in a few—”
“the game can wait, but I can’t.”
shortly, your back is pressing against the cold tilted of the locker rooms as satrou wet kisses the nap of your neck trailing down turning into more sloppy ones leaving a trail, you desperately tried to close your thighs together feeling your growing auroral through the fabric of your sparkling bedazzled outfit—feeling a hint of warmth coursing through your body.
satoru smile faded slightly noticing your shift of movement tilted to the side—mumbling against your tummy stopping completely for a moment.
“what’s the matter baby? hm? don’t you want me to eat your pretty pussy?” he teased at the last words playfully, his cheek still nuzzled into your softness of your tummy, feeling the warmth of his slender fingers gently squeezing and resting lazily on your sides.
“i-i do..” you stammer out desperately trying to keep your thigh closed together trying to hide the wet spot in the fabric of your cotton panties, it was stupid to even try to hide it you knew it. only desperately wanting him as bad as he wanted you.
“hm? didn’t catch that baby. you want to speak up for me?” he taunted that cheesy smile of his plastered on his face knowing your embarrassed about couldn’t help but to tease you a little bit more, his slender fingers lifting your skirt bunched up the fabric pulled itself up slowly.
“toru..i-i……need you please” you confessed softly warmth spreading through your body once more, causing satoru smirk to deepen at your words trailing his sloppy kisses down to stomach tracing along the waistband giving it a gentle tug as it loosens falls down your thighs to the floor.
“that’s my girl.” satoru cooes, swiping his calloused thumb across your sensitive nub. his gaze lands on your cunt, nuzzling in between your soft thighs hearing his breath hitched. satoru thick lengthy fingers toyed with your clit, pinching the sensitive nerve causing you to jolt against him.
“toru…c’mon..”
“so impatient baby hm. gettin’ wet f’ me barely even touch you.”
satoru mumbles, tugging and toying at your clit. his glossy lips glinting in the dim light teasing you into utter bliss causing you to writhe around at the stimulation.
your hands tugged at loose white strands of hair causing him to groan against your thighs, his tongue alternating between swirling around your clit and sucking on the sensitive nud—feeling the heaven through arching your back perfectly. not caring whom heard you throughout the walls of the locker room.
“satoru..!..ngh..please..”
“fuck…baby y’er close already? bet that jock can’t eat you out like this huh…”
your moans mingled together throughout the room bouncing off the walls, as satrou continued to tease your cunt with his tongue eating you out as if your were his last meal on earth his face stuffed with your cunt.
“answer the question baby.”
“n-no…toru….mph!fuckfuck..”
you writhing around against his face tightening your hands on his hair throwing your head, if it wasn’t for holding your thighs over his shoulders keeping you steady—knowing your legs would’ve given out on a instant.
satoru’s hands held your thighs open for him, the flat of his tongue slurped up your slick probing deeper inside of cunt you could only buck your hips against his face, trying to gain more stimulation from him but he had other plans.
only to, suddenly removing himself nuzzled between your thighs covered in your ecstasy and salvia dripping down his chin, with that same teasingly smirk lingering causing you to whine and scrunch your brows together in frustration. you didn’t honestly think you were going cum so easily with a teasing bastard like him huh?
“satoru…w-why..did you stop??” your breathing was still heavy and your skin glowed in the dim lighting of the locker room. sweat started to bead up on your forehead, and you still felt a hazy from the stimulation. you were grew rather frustrated and wanting to reach your orgasm to have it decided by your lover.
“sorry babe, but the game starts back in a few minutes.” he hums but you could practically hear the tease in his voice, placing you on your feet. you mumbling a few curses underneath your breath huffing, feeling you stumble forward you catch yourself.
satoru smiles back with a cheeky and teasing smirk as he watches your annoyed expression when he pulls away. he then unlocks the door, giving you no chance to respond or continue any further action, even though you were very tempted to do so. he laughs and winks at you before stepping out of the locker room, leaving you all by yourself inside.
you straighten out your uniform and make sure your appearance was looking proper before stepping out of the locker room. you didn't see satru anywhere, but you assumed he was already at the game. he did say that the game was starting in just a few minutes, and he was always one to be right on time. you made your way towards the game, looking for satrou amongst the other students who had already taken their seats.
you began to get concerned about satrou’s sudden disappearance, worried that he might be in trouble. he had gone missing without a trace after you two left the locker room, and his whereabouts were completely unknown at this point.
you searched all the crowd of students, searching for any sign of satrou but came up with nothing. you began to get increasingly worried with each passing moment, wondering where he could have gone so suddenly without a word?.
just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse than this. where the hell did he go?
oh great.
a wave of concern washed over you as satrou still hadn't shown himself by the quarter of the game, which only caused worries of where he could have gone to creep up on you. you were worried and stressed, not knowing if he were hurt and unable to show himself, or somewhere else. your annoyance grew with each passing second, until you suddenly heard toji's voice behind you.
"looking for someone?" toji asked, looking at you with a smug grin on his face. his friends all stood close to him, smirking as they looked at you. one of them even had the nerve to let out a chuckle, clearly enjoying how annoyed you were at the moment. it’s as if they were mocking your concern for satrou—was nowhere to be seen still. “I wouldn’t worry much about him, the nerd show sooner or later. or not.”
“what—why?”
“you ask way too many questions, relax. we have a game to finish. see you out there sweetheart”
you started at them confused, wanting to run after them to question them more but it was too late they were already heading to the field—but you should’ve expected them not take this matter seriously.
you only hoped gojo was okay somewhere.
@screampied @hoshigray @shaguro
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