#when im reading these fics. god bless | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarameownya · 11 days ago

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tags ran out so im continuing it here JAJSJSDJJD

on a second thought i should have tagged this as nsfw before the tags ran out 💀

#GRANDMA LOST HER SON AND DAUGHTER IN LAW... STOP IT STOP I DONT WANNA GET EMOTIONAL JAIL JAIL FOR YOU

#"grandma filled the roles so well even if his heart bled, not too much blood spilled out" thats its im stealing your brain this is actually insane writing and wording IM IN LOVE

#NO NO NOT HIM REGRETTING NOT BEING TO HELP HER AS A CHILD NOBONONOON

#AND HER DEATH HELLO ?!?!?! ok and ik u didnt intended for it to be but id like to think him brushing off people's remarks

#are somewhat in a way him grieving cause hes knows all of it and in a way because he knows his child self could not reciprocate all of it

#DO NOT TORTURE ME MORE WITH HIM READING HIS PARENTS LETTER AND FUCKING CRYING RIV I WILL KILL YOU HELLO IM ?!?@?@?@?#?@#*×*

#ALSO AUAGAHAHAHA I LOVE THEIR BANTER SO MUCH OMFGGGGGGGG THE FACT THAT HE HAS SOMEONE TO SHARE AND CALL A HOME WITH AUGAHSHSHD

#als his thought process during the smut scene... :[[ poor lil brain boy.. he's literally so happy at how you are so perfect for him

#and just how whole you made him feel... wahhh :"[[[[ riv should get her device taken away signing a petition rn //lh

#THE LETTER AT THE END ?!?!?! OMFG HAITHAM YOU CHEESY ASS //POS ALL POS HES JUST SO ?!?!?! SO ?!?@@??!

#seeing haitham this gentle is insane omfg riv i love love LOVE your version of him so much-- lowkey got me blushing at it like-- STOP

#ALL IN ALL HELLO ?!?!?! THIS IS INCREDIBLE IM LITERALLY SO HOOKED IN EVERY WORDS AND THEYRE ALL SO WELL WRITTEN

#eating your brain i need that nutrients PLS I JUST ?!?!?! I JUST LOVE THIS SO MUCH OMFG UAHSUAHDHSDHDHFHDH

#what if i die for just liking this too much-- IM SORRY BUT JUST ?!?!? EVERYTHING FLOW SO SMOOTHLY AND AND ITS SO NATURAL AND I JUST LOVE SEEING IT PLAYED OUT FROM START TO FINISH

#whens the wedding this should be at 28 ill be waiting //lh

like a lotus in spring, you are mine to bloom — ft. alhaitham

synopsis: at twenty one, you’re just a girl he meets as he trains for the role of scribe. at twenty four, you’ve become everything he loves in this world. after three years of knowing you and nearly two and a half decades of life, alhaitham finally realizes why his father left letters for his mother instead of just saying the words outloud

❤︎ word count: 7.7k words — we find ourselves here in the same old situation again, i see LOL pls give it a chance though!! plssss

❤︎ before you read: female reader ; 18+ content — not suitable for minors ; not proof read ; strangers to friends to lovers ; mutual pining but not at the same time for a bit (he falls first <3) ; jealous alhaitham ; hinted drunk sex ; getting together + love confessions ; alhaitham character story spoilers + references to his grandmother and parents ; semi-clothed unprotected sex ; no prep ; some nipple play ; creampie ; the cringiest love letter at the end LOL

❤︎ comments: guys every time i write alhaitham it’s so corny and cheesy but . he is my fav genshin guy of all time i deserve to be allowed this okay

TWENTY ONE.

You’re still a student when you first meet Alhaitham. (Not a student for much longer, but a student all the same. With a little luck on your side and good graces from your darshan’s sage on your thesis, you’re expected to graduate in just a few short months.)

You don’t have the best first meet. In fact, your impression of Alhaitham starts off entirely on the wrong foot.

He’s newly graduated, just freshly rewarded a degree for his (impressive) efforts, and is now well on his way to training for the role of scribe—you heard he was offered far more prestigious roles, but for some reason, a genius like him settled for a role like that. You try not to judge. People have their passions, after all, and if that’s what he wants to do, well…who are you to make comments? (But amongst a school that only houses the brilliant, Alhaitham is, very undoubtedly, a standout. It’s hard to stand out in a school filled with only the best minds, but he manages to do so with ease. Sometimes, you’re almost jealous. You can’t help but wonder why he doesn’t aim a little higher than he does.)

He trains in the house of Daena. His first order of training is to fact-check ordinance drafts using books so he can better get the hang of drafting them himself in the future. You’re also in the House of Daena to find the last book for your thesis—after weeks of begging, you’re finally granted access to the restricted section to find it.

And you do. Except your palm meets warm skin instead of the cold leather cover of a book. You pause, glancing up as sharp, teal eyes meet your gaze, staring at you expectantly as if you should be the one letting go. But you need this book. It’s the final research element to finish your thesis, and you’d like to be done with it. End of story. No matter how devastatingly handsome the man (because he is handsome, you’ll admit at least that much), you will not be handing over the last, final key to your academic freedom.

“Um, excuse me,” you say politely, “I was kind of reaching for that.”

“As was I,” he says, staring at you with a bored, almost uncaring expression. Your eyes narrow. “Now, if you’d please kindly take your hand off of mine.”

“I believe it should be you taking your hand off of mine,” you correct, huffing as you add stubbornly, “I reached for it first.”

He blinks at you, bland and a little irritated, as he points out, “Your hand is on top of mine, which means I reached the book first.”

Well.

Maybe if you were feeling particularly patient, you’d be inclined to admit that, yes, he does have a point. But stubbornness, combined with pure exhaustion, has you at your wit's end, and if you have to play the role of a difficult student, then so be it. You’re pretty sure you need it more, and you’re probably a much speedier reader anyway. You’ll have it done and returned in no time.

This guy, on the other hand…he doesn’t look too bright. You’re not willing to take your chances and let him walk off with a book that you might never see again.

“I started reaching for it first,” you scowl, “you just sped up your hand once you saw me. I should get it.”

“Unlikely,” he scoffs, “I didn’t even see you. Although,” he gives you a once over with his eyes, making you feel uncomfortably seen under his judging gaze, “I suppose you were a bit easy to miss.”

You gape at him. “Just what does that mean?”

“It means,” he smirks, taking the opportunity to grab the book as you stand in shock, “that I got here first.”

“Hey!” You glare at him, seeing red for a moment. What a perfectly good waste of a perfectly handsome face—and such an awful attitude coupled with his ridiculously smug grin couldn’t make for a worse combination. But, before you can even say anything, the book is being pressed back into your hands.

“You seem like you want it more than I do, though,” he hums, “I suppose I can let you have it. It’s a bit outdated for this ordinance, anyway.” With that, he saunters off. You push down the soft flutter in your heart for a moment and force yourself to hope you’ll never see him again. (Faintly, you hope your wishes don’t come true—but you refuse to admit it to yourself.)

Unfortunately (and fortunately at the same time) for you, you do see him again. Many, many times, in fact. When he works in the House of Daena as often as he does, and you like to spend all your free time there to study if you can, you’re both bound to run into each other often. Very often.

And sometimes, it’s quite literally running into him.

“Oof,” you hiss, staggering backward and hitting your head against the bookshelf behind you as you bump into a sturdy figure. You drop the books in your hand, blinking before reaching to rub your read as you start to apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t see you—oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” he says, looking mildly entertained. Alhaitham is everywhere. Everywhere. You can’t escape him if you try, and now, you can’t even avoid him in your own personal space. “Although, I think I should be the one apologizing this time. I was too busy reading to pay attention. This section is usually empty at this time.”

“How often are you in here to know what section is empty at what time?” You raise a brow.

“Too often to be considered good for my well-being,” he says dryly, sighing in misery. You crack a smile at that. Oddly enough, so does he—you don’t think you’ve ever heard someone say they’ve seen Alhaitham smile. It must be a rare sight that only you, and perhaps a very few others, can say they’ve witnessed. “I was just about to take a break to buy a coffee—I’ll bring one back for you, too, to make up for the cranial damage I’ve supplied.”

“A most wonderful idea,” you perk up instantly, “I love when I get to drain the wallet of a man.”

He gives you an amused look at that. And somehow, bringing you a coffee along with his own during his breaks is a habit that seems to stick for a long, long while after that.

────────────────────────

TWENTY TWO.

Alhaitham’s feelings are hurt. Not a lot of words tend to do that—he’s been blessed with thick skin and an unbothered attitude to a fault, sometimes. But something about today, for some odd reason, hurts his feelings.

Your words to the waiter who took your order keep ringing in his head.

Oh goodness, no, we are definitely not dating!

Most people mistake you and Alhaitham for a pair of lovers rather than a pair of friends. It’s just the way things go when a man and a woman are seen together for extended periods of time over and over. It doesn’t help that Alhaitham doesn’t really have any friends. He had one before you, but…well, things are complicated now. Far too complicated to think about it more than necessary. He has you, and that’s enough. But the matter still stands that most people tend to assume that something blossoms between the two of you that isn’t just friendly.

He was starting to think it was true himself, too. He knows it’s true from his end, at least. But you say those words with such a sure, definitive tone that it almost sounds like you’re offended by the notion of being seen as his girlfriend. And sure, he would be disappointed—he’s no liar—if you didn’t feel romantically for him, but he’d understand. It’s not something you can help. But you brush off the idea like it’s an anomaly of sorts in the universe for someone like you and someone like Alhaitham to be a couple. It hurts his feelings. More than it should.

(He knows deep down, in the depths of his heart, that you don’t mean it that way. You never would. But irrationality is but one of many feelings that bloom when it comes to romance.)

Alhaitham knows from a young age he’s different than most kids his age. This fact doesn’t change as he gets older. He’s brighter than most of his peers—which is certainly saying something because Sumeru is a nation filled with enough sharp minds, it’s as though brilliance were the average trait. People don’t typically like Alhaitham (which is fine by him, he doesn’t like most of them, either. They mostly don’t meet his standards). The kids don’t play with him in the parks that Grandmother would leave him at while she shopped around at the market, and they don’t sit with him on his one and only day at the Akademiya when he is but an elementary scholar. It never bothered him. He preferred reading under the trees and self-learning at home, anyway. When he’s older and enrolled in the Akademiya full-time, they don’t prefer to partner with him for projects for any other reason than simply being guaranteed a good grade, and they don’t spare him a glance when they all converse in groups outside of class. He never cared for freeloaders, anyway—he only trusts himself for projects, and he is at the Akademiya to learn, not make friends.

It’s not until he meets Kaveh does he consider the idea that friendships are meaningful enough to spare some effort into. But the end result of that only solidifies that he is best when in solitude.

But then he meets you. Some part of Alhaitham knows very early on that you would never be just a friend to him. If it was friendship that he craved, he would have looked for it elsewhere before running into you. Something about you from the very beginning makes him yearn for things much deeper than that. Things that remind him of his parents.

Friendship is fleeting. People at the Akademiya go their separate ways and meet new people. They fall out and have arguments. They grow up and grow apart and become different. But love blooms like the Kalpalata lotuses on a vine, timeless as time itself. It starts and never ends, one root stemming into more and more vines until they never stop growing.

Alhaitham has fallen in love with you. Logic tells him it’s only a recent development, but his heart has known this outcome would be brought about for a long, long time. And, in all truthfulness, your words have hurt his feelings.

And yet, he still loves you through it. He thinks that even if you crushed his feelings with a cold, indifferent smile, he would still love you through it.

A hand waves in front of his face, pulling him from his thoughts as you take a sip from your coffee. Puspa Cafe is not as busy at this hour, most people are in the middle of a work day, but Alhaitham is allowed to pick his lunch hour, and yours happens to be earlier than most.

“Sorry, I just have to ask—are…are you upset?” you ask gently, making him pause.

Yes.

“No,” he says simply, “why would I be?”

“You seem upset.”

“I’m not.”

“You were fine up until…I don’t know, a few minutes ago. Is something on your mind?”

You know him so well, he thinks. How could you not see how perfect the two of you are together?

“I’m simply concerned about your sugar intake is all,” he eyes the cold, iced drink in your hands with more syrups than he deems necessary. You always have a penchant for choosing the sweetest drink off the menu, and Alhaitham will never understand how your teeth don’t rot.

“Well, that’s very funny,” you roll your eyes, “because I was just thinking about how low on vitamin D you must be—do you ever leave your study to see the sun?”

He spares you a soft chuckle at that, shaking his head before taking a sip of his own coffee—hot and black and with two spoons of sugar. Simple, like how he prefers. You make a face at his drink as he sets it down.

“Have you ever thought about what you look for in a partner?” he asks suddenly, making you blink in shock for a moment. He flinches at his own forwardness just a tad.

“Umm, I suppose a little here and there…why do you ask?”

“No reason,” he shrugs, “just curious what your type was, that’s all. You’re painfully single, so I figured your taste was rather distinct.”

“Rude,” you scoff, rolling your eyes enough that he thinks it’s safe to assume you’re not suspicious. “Are you here just to poke fun at my choices today?”

Alhaitham should not be asking you this. Not when the answer so clearly is going to hurt his already very bruised feelings. Of course, your type won’t be him. And, of course, he is going to mourn your answer the second you give it, which is his own fault considering he’s the one who asked. (He has to wonder, for a moment, if this constitutes as an undiscovered hidden kink of his and whether or not he really just gets off on some unnecessary pain. Why else would he willingly subject himself to this?)

But, he’s caught off guard when you shrug and simply say, “I suppose someone who’s intelligent. I’d appreciate some good discussions. And…and maybe someone who’s kind, y’know? I would be rather sad if they were mean,” you pretend to sniffle dramatically.

“That’s…that’s it?” He tilts his head in equal parts shock and equal parts confusion.

“What did you expect me to look for in a partner?” You snort, “A three-story mansion? A rock-solid, chiseled chest to lay on?”

“Well, no,” he rolls his eyes, “Maybe something a bit less generic to narrow down your pool, I suppose, but if that’s your bar, so be it. There are far too many men who are intelligent and kind, you know.”

“Yes, but none of them show me any signs of interest,” you pout, “I must be undesirable or something.”

I desire you, he wants to say. He can’t quite find the courage to get the words out, though—and as if the universe has it completely out for him, the same waiter from earlier who is responsible for asking you the question that kills Alhaitham’s mood for the day comes back with the bill. And something else, too.

Something that kills his mood for the week.

His jaw clenches a tad when you flush at the note scribbled on a napkin for you, eyeing your flustered reaction while you read over the words: I get off at eight if you’d like to find me. You stare for a moment before you murmur, “Well, look at that. A sign of interest—it must be the Dendro Archon’s divine power.”

“The Divine have no say over who you fall for,” he insists.

“You don’t know that,” you hum thoughtfully, “The God of Wisdom knows her people better than anyone else, you know. I’d like to think she knows when love is bound for two people.”

You fold the napkin carefully and keep it in your pocket, and Alhaitham fishes out his mora pouch with stiff fingers. He leaves a very shoddy tip on the table before he exits after you.

────────────────────────

TWENTY THREE.

You wake up in his bed.

It’s a foggy memory, but you know you fucked Alhaitham after more sips of wine than you can count and one flirty comment too many. It happened in a blur last night, and you can’t say you’re surprised that it finally happened at all. Alhaitham is a man just like any other, and mingling pleasure with friendship is a normal thing to do. Falling under him on his mattress is not something you never had daydreams of—but the truth of the matter is that your daydreams don’t just stop with the bed.

They end with a toothbrush beside his in the bathroom. A mug next to his in the kitchen. Your shoes kicked off along with his at the entrance of a home. Your laughter and his bouncing off of the walls. A ring, maybe. One on your hand and one on his.

In your imagination, it starts with pleasure, but it ends with love.

Falling in love with Alhaitham is a peaceful ordeal. He’s dependable and inherently kind. Strong and impressively capable. Intelligent and objectively handsome. You’d bring him home to your mother and father, and they’d thank Lord Kusanali for smiling down upon their humble little family and their darling little daughter by sending such a divine man your way.

You don’t think you can pinpoint when exactly it is you started to love this boy, but you know loving him became as simple as breathing. You never thought about it. Never learned to do it. Never questioned it, even. You inhale the scent of his spicy, woody cologne and exhale the warm breath of your affections stored in your lungs. He lives somewhere nestled so deep in your ribcage that you think you’d have to crack each of them one after the other before you could pry him out.

You love Alhaitham. You think you know everything there is to know about loving him. You think you’d do it right—better than anyone else.

He only drinks his coffee when it’s piping hot, and his wine can never be one degree less than iced. He has dry hands, but he hates the feeling of lotion. He doesn’t like raw onions but he doesn’t mind them cooked. When the sun is in his eyes, he’s in a foul mood, but he enjoys napping under the warm rays, much like a cat. He laughs surprisingly boyishly from his belly if you manage to deliver a dry yet clever enough joke, and he clears his throat and gets a bit shy once he’s realized he’s let it out. He twirls his pen in his hand when he’s bored, and he only uses the kind with gel ink because they write smoother.

You love Alhaitham. For you, it’s always been him.

When you wake up to his bare, warm body next to yours, breathing peacefully with an arm thrown over your waist, you can’t help but selfishly wish he’d stay asleep all day. Just for a day. Just for the amount of time you get in between the sun’s departure and the moon’s arrival. Just so you can watch him exist in this moment where it’s you, him, and the liminal space between friends and lovers. Just so you can admire how beautiful he is without worrying about his eyes opening and the inevitable conversation of what you’re both doing is brought up.

People (like Kaveh, or Dehya, or Tighnari, or…anyone) tend to insist that Alhaitham loves you. It’s obvious, they say, just as obvious as your love for him. You never believe it. It’s not because he’s bad at love or because you’re bad for him. You think he’d make a good lover—contrary to popular belief, you don’t think Alhaitham is uninterested in intimacy or affection. And you think you’d make a good girlfriend—unlike other people, you understand him and like what you see.

But he doesn’t love you. That much is a fact you’ve long accepted. It’s not because you’re bad for him or because he’s incapable of feeling—but rather, it’s just that bitter, soul-crushing reality that you can’t help who you love and who you don’t. Alhaitham doesn’t love you—it’s not something either of you can really change. Because if he did, he’d waste no time. He’d get to the heart of the matter and quit dancing around the issue.

It’s just the kind of guy that he is.

So, because this is your first and likely last time seeing him this way, you slowly reach over and brush a few strands of messy, unruly bedhead from his forehead before cupping his cheek in your hand. His skin is soft and warm under your palm, much more delicate to the touch than you anticipated from how chiseled his features are. Your thumb gently brushes along the slant of his cheekbone, eyes softening at how he lets out a puff of air as he sleeps.

“Morning,” he says hoarsely, eyes still closed and making you jolt in surprise. He lets out a quiet, sleepy chuckle that would make you melt if not for the way your heart still pounds from the shock.

“You’re awake?”

“Mhm,” he hums, nodding before finally cracking an eye open. “For a while now.”

“Why pretend to sleep then, you creep?” You scoff, glaring at him as he sits up slightly and glances at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. No part of him seems to be shocked about you being nude in his bed. Or the fact that you’re even in his bed at all, nude or not.

“You’re the creep if we’re being technical here. It’s undoubtedly a little on the creepy side to study someone with such careful touches while they sleep.”

“That’s your main concern…?” You stare at him—and for lack of better words, you’re dumbfounded. You and Alhaitham have been friends for two years and counting. You’ve never once crossed the line or even toed at it to step beyond the border of anything more. And, yet, here you are. In his bed. Completely nude. He was lying there and felt your delicate touch along his skin, felt you act like a lover and not a friend on a quiet, intimate morning when in fact, you both should be shamefully avoiding each other’s eyes in a moment that’s anything but intimate as you leave.

He makes no move to ask you to leave or even question why you’re still here. You make no move to really leave—it’s not like you want to.

“What should my main concern be, then?” he looks at you expectantly, like he really doesn’t know.

“Oh, I don’t know, Alhaitham—shouldn’t you be a little more panicked by the idea that I’ve trespassed into your bed and seen you…bare?”

“Well, to be fair, you didn’t trespass. I let you in—and also, to be fair, I saw the same for you, too, so we’re even.”

“You’re oddly calm about this,” you hiss. “This doesn’t bother you even a little? That things might change?”

He looks at you funny—like you’ve just told him a joke that hardly makes sense but makes him want to laugh anyway. “You’re too brilliant to be this dense,” he murmurs. “Maybe I’m quite open to the idea of change.”

You take offense to the first part enough to completely miss the second part of his statement.

“I am not dense,” you huff, “I’m incredibly bright. I’ll have to send you my thesis sometime.”

“No need,” he responds through a low hum. He pulls you closer, flush against his chest. Bare skin on skin. Intimate skin, at that. You shiver for a moment as his warm, large hand wanders lower and lower before stopping just at the small of your back, rubbing slow circles at the dimple where your spine ends. “I’ve read it plenty of times. It was very insightful.”

“Well, in that case, you should know not to insult my intelligence—”

“If you don’t notice my affection for you, I’m afraid you might not be as observant as I initially thought.”

You pause. Your heart flutters. Then it feels like it decays. Your eyes widen a fraction. Then they feel like they need to be squeezed shut for fear of tears. You feel your fingers twitch to reach for him. And yet they stiffen in distrust.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you whisper. Because you don’t.

You really fucking don’t. You thought you knew. His feelings and how to read them. His thoughts and how his mind works. Every little quirk of his and how he approaches every damn thing in this world. You thought you knew.

Now you feel like you don’t know much of anything, especially not what he means right in this moment.

“You don’t?” He whispers, hand moving to grab your wrist and bring it to his cheek so his lips can brush along the delicate lines of your palm prints. (If he was brave, he’d tell you that his destiny and yours are written in those very lines. Maybe someday he’ll build the courage.)

“No,” you say through a shaky whisper. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you. Just like you love me.” He says it so plainly, that you almost feel like it's a dry, cruel joke. (You know him a little better than that, though, to know he’d never.)

“How do you know I love you?” you challenge just because it’s all you have left to cling to—easy, instant denial.

He laughs. Soft. Quiet. Melodic. So fucking sweet. “I’m too smart to act dense,” Alhaitham teases. And then, for a moment, his eyes soften enough that they almost look vulnerable. “And only someone who loves me could deal with my… peculiarities. Though, I will admit, it took me quite a while to reach this conclusion. You made me work for it.”

“If you’ve known all along—”

“Not all along,” he corrects, “like I said, it took me a while to come to this conclusion. But once I did, it was rather obvious.”

You scowl with a finger prodding into his chest, eyes misty with relief and the faintest traces of agitation, “Well, regardless, why haven’t you said something all this time? Obviously, I wasn’t as aware as you seem to be, so the least you could have done is spared me the pining and heartbreak of wondering if you’d ever look at me—”

“I wanted to make sure I could offer you a peaceful life first,” he says gently. You blink. He smiles, eyeing something in the distance—you don’t quite catch it, but you think it might be the old, worn-out stack of envelopes sitting on his desk.

“What?”

“When you’re with me,” he whispers, leaning in so that his lips brush over yours, “I can lead a peaceful life. I wanted to make sure I could give you the same.”

“And what does that consist of?” you raise a brow.

“Well,” he murmurs, pecking the corner of your mouth, “A stable job with a generous income, which I now have. A fixed schedule, which I have also negotiated. A proper home to house the both of us, which you are comfortably laying in. And…” he grabs your hand, bringing it to his chest where his heart is beating erratically, “A rock-solid, chiseled chest to lay on, which I have dedicatedly worked to add to my physique for you.”

“Haitham!” you squeal, shoving him away with a horrified shriek as he laughs with a wide grin. You don’t even know why he still remembers that comment to poke fun at it, but you suppose that is the tragedy of falling for a prodigious scholar. His mind is sharp. And so is his memory. “Enough!”

“Okay, okay,” he grins smugly. “I want us to lead a peaceful life.”

“There’s not a lot of peace I am counting on with you.”

“I will elect to ignore that statement,” he says dryly, “But that’s why I waited this long,” he buries his face into your neck, nose pressing into the skin as he inhales, “I’m afraid I can’t wait any longer, though. Won’t you accept my frugal attempt at a serene life with you?”

“Perhaps I can make do,” you fight back a stupid grin.

He smiles into your neck. You can feel it. You can practically see it. You hope you’ll grow old with it, too.

“Then I suppose I’m forever indebted to your graciousness, my love.”

────────────────────────

TWENTY FOUR.

When Alhaitham was eight, Grandmother told him the story of how his parents had fallen in love. It was a typical love story, he thought at the time—nothing overly special or unique. A simple, sweet bond between two people who became friends and something more along the way.

What stood out were the letters. Not very much at first, but with time, he’d realized how special they were.

Grandmother handed him the letters with a soft, melancholy look in her eyes that made him realize he hadn’t just lost his father and mother. She had lost her son and daughter-in-law. Alhaitham felt the absence of his parents often. It was hard not to at that age—he didn’t have a father to throw a ball to or tag along with to the market. He didn’t have a mother to hum him a melody or make his favorite dish for dinner. But Grandmother filled the gaps in those places well enough that even if his heart bled, not too much blood spilled between the cracks.

But he was no son. Not a proper one for her at her age, anyway. She raised him like he was her own, but she grew older every day, and he didn’t grow fast enough to keep up. He couldn’t take care of her in her old age the way his father would have. He couldn’t do much besides bring the vegetables for her to cut or set the table while she cooked. He couldn’t offer her the mora when she went to the market or carry too many of the heavy bags while they walked home. He couldn’t let her rest in her old age too much because, regardless of how mature and bright he was for his age, Alhaitham was just a child. Her child, nonetheless—Grandmother didn’t let him forget that fact. But a child.

When she died, he arranged the funeral alone. He didn’t cry throughout the whole ordeal. Her old colleagues from way back in her Akademiya days came, as did some of his parents’ old acquaintances. No one he knew too familiarly, though—no one who really mattered when they clasped his shoulder and told him to hang in there.

She was a good woman. He knew that already.

She was very intelligent. A very obvious fact.

She was exceptionally kind. A rather unsurprising observation.

She loved very deeply. Well. That one stung—as true as it might have been.

He remembers it so vividly still. How he had walked home alone after it all. How he had taken off his tie (a very poorly tied tie, at that—Grandmother had always helped him before) and silently entered his room.

It wasn’t until he had eyed his desk that finally, it all sank in. The notes—the ones his father had so carefully written his mother while they were still just starting to fall in love, sat there as if waiting for him. He read them one by one, just like he had so many times before. He didn’t realize he’d started crying until a rivulet of his sorrow landed from his cheek to the page, staining the paper a darker shade of heartache.

Alone.

That’s all Alhaitham had ever been since the tender age of four. At least, that’s what people had always thought—but he’d never felt the sorrow people tended to feel for him. Not having a father and mother was okay. Hard at times, but okay. Grandmother had been everything he needed. More than what he needed, in fact.

Grandmother was everything. And she had left him just the same way his parents had. He’d cried that night—alone in a house that was nothing more than just a house. Not a home, not a place where he could return to and look forward to it. Not a place where love was waiting for him to shelter him as soon as he came back from the cruel, outside world.

Grandmother was gone. Mother and father had left so long ago. But they all had each other—in whatever world they’d crossed to, they’d had each other.

He remembers it all so vividly still. How he’d read his father’s words, and for the first time in all his life, he’d craved it. What his parents had.

To my love, my soul, my heart. I am yours, always.

He wondered that night, through teary and blurry eyes, if love like that would ever find him. If he’d one day be able to call someone his love, soul, and heart.

He thinks now, as you laugh with your head tilted forward and a tweezer in hand while sitting on his lap, that he can.

“Hold still, you,” comes your teasing remark, “you said this would be nothing. Now look at you.”

“You’re being too harsh,” he grumbles, pouting slightly. With a smile, you bend your neck down and press a soft kiss to his jutted lips, humming before pressing an extra one to the corner of his mouth for good measure. (And yes, the grand sage—acting, you can almost hear him correct in your own head—can pout. He is rather frequent at curling those lips of his in your presence when he wants something, in fact. Or when he is teased too much. Something about you brings about a side of him that is much less stoic and far more dramatized.)

“You can just admit it hurts, you know,” you say through an amused snort.

“It won’t hurt if you just do it right.”

“I’m an expert at tweezing eyebrows,” you huff, “I do mine all the time. And I would know that it hurts.”

“It can’t be that painful,” he clicks his teeth, “just be gentle.”

“I cannot gently pull out a hair from your follicle, Haitham—I don’t know what you want me to—hey!”

He grabs the tweezers from your hand and pulls you close, hugging you tight enough that his nose digs into your skin a bit as he buries it into your neck. It’s Saturday. His first out of two days off for the week—standard scribe work weeks are nine to five on weekdays, and he very much appreciates his weekends away from the bustling, lively Akademiya nonsense.

Saturday happens to be your day off, too.

“Where is Kaveh?” you ask quietly, playing with the hem of his shirt. He raises a brow, eyeing the suspicious movement of your fingers.

“Working with a client in Aaru Village. He won’t be back until tomorrow evening. Why am I not enough company for you?”

“Oh, be quiet,” you roll your eyes, and this time, your hands wander under his shirt, palms slowly dragging along his chiseled, planed abdomen while he shivers slightly under your touch. “I was just asking if…”

“If…?” he urges you to continue.

You know he knows. But, for the sake of indulging his smug, teasing little game, you huff and push his shirt up to expose his chest before murmuring, “If we would be interrupted or not. I don’t fancy such awkward run-ins with your roommate.”

“Our roommate,” he corrects, “this is your home, too.”

“Yes,” you smile, brushing your palms over his pectorals, watching as he stiffens when you graze along his nipples, “I suppose it is.”

“Well, he’s not here. And he won’t be, so kiss me,” he demands through a breathy whisper. You do. You kiss him instantly—because kissing Alhaitham is what you do best. When he’s happy, sad, angry, distressed, or just plain tired, kissing him is how you know him the most. When your breaths exchange and your life force and his mingle to become one, singular unit.

You sigh into his mouth, letting his hands cradle your jaw and tilt your head to better meet his mouth, all while your hands still explore his upper half. He moans under your touch, cock springing to life slowly below you through his pants. You angle your hips forward, inching higher up his lap to drag your crotch along his and help the erection grow against the friction.

“Fuck,” he hisses, hard and heavy between his legs in no time.

“Haitham,” you breathe, feeling that familiar ache build between your own thighs.

You kiss him like that for a bit. Messy, deep, sloppy, and so, so slow. With all the time in the world. Languid strokes of your tongue against his as he rolls his hips up from underneath you, dragging his clothed, bulging cock against your dripping cunt. The fabric separates you, rudely so, and it’s not long until you both grow tired of it.

“Off,” you whine, tugging at his pants, “off, off, off!”

“So demanding,” he chuckles, pecking your nose sweetly before he lifts his hips, letting you slide off his sweatpants. “Satisfied?”

“Yes,” you beam, “You always give me what I want. It’s my favorite thing about you.”

His gaze darkens at that—not for any other reason than it makes him so incredibly filled with lust when you speak to him like that. So spoiled and happy about it because it’s him. Him. You’re happy that it’s him. And he’s happy that it’s you.

You don’t even bother undressing yourselves fully—he pulls down your own pants just enough to expose your pretty, leaking folds, and his hands wander under your shirt, where he almost short-circuits for a moment. Braless. Because you just love to drive him mad, he thinks. This much easy access to your soft, delicate breasts and the pert nipples that decorate them is enough to make him curse under his breath as his thumbs tease over them.

“You’re a tease.”

“For simply existing?” you gasp, making him crack a small grin.

“Yes,” he hums, “Your existence on its own teases me at all times. I’m afraid it drives me mad.”

You hum, reaching forward to gently take his hard, leaking cock into your hand and give a light, teasing squeeze. “Maybe my goal is to turn you completely into a lost cause.”

“Then,” he groans, throwing his head back against the couch cushions while he breathes harshly, “then you’re definitely succeeding. Is that what you wished to hear?”

“Yes,” you whisper, kissing his jaw, “It is, actually.”

It doesn’t take long at all before Alhaitham has tossed you back against the couch, laughing as you shriek at the sudden change of position. You glare at him, fighting back your own chorus of giggles as he moves to hover over you, kissing and biting playfully along your cheeks.

“I love you,” he mumbles.

“Aw, so sweet,” you coo, “say that again.”

He rolls his eyes. His lips curl into the brightest grin at the same time. My love, my soul, my heart—the words are ingrained in his memory always. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you whisper.

He leans in for a soft, slow kiss as the tip of his leaking cock slides against your folds, tapping against your clit before rubbing along your entrance. You gasp, shuddering against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I could get used to this.”

“Sex on the couch? We can do that any time—”

“A weekend with just the two of us,” he groans, dropping his head to your neck as you laugh loudly. Bright. Airy. A sound the wind carries to him in his subconscious. He hears you even when you’re not there—even when you aren’t around, he searches for you.

“Oh,” you say playfully, “Yeah, I guess that’s nice too, isn’t it?”

“I’ll show you just how nice it’s about to be,” he hums. The tip of his thick, blunt head is pressed against your folds—you’re leaking just as much as he is. You slick, and his pre cum mix for a messy collision of arousal as he presses into you slowly, so carefully, you feel like you could break at any second with how he handles you.

He’s patient. When Alhaitham fucks you, he’s patient enough that you feel like his other half and not his means of pleasure. Like he fucks you for you and not for himself.

“More,” you insist, impatient as you add, “I can take it.”

“Patience is a virtue,” he clicks his teeth, “I want to take my time feeling you.”

And he does. He rolls his hips slowly. So slowly, you feel delirious. It’s a painful, gradual build-up of pleasure that has you trying to roll your hips into him to meet him halfway, a pathetic attempt when he’s on top of you to press his weight down on you to keep you in place.

“Please, Haitham,” you whine, sweat shining across your sweet, pleasure-hazed face as he stares down at you, “Please more. I need it—need you. Need all of you.”

“You have all of me,” he groans, feeling the tight walls of your cunt squeeze around him, the squelching noise of his thick girth bullying into your folds in and out, in and out, in and out, driving him to the brink of insanity. “You’ve always had every piece of me.”

“I want more,” you hiss.

He lets out a breathy laugh that turns into a soft moan. “If that��s what you want.”

The next thing you know, two strong, muscled arms are grabbing your thighs and bringing them around his torso to wrap around him, and his large hands grab your hips and pull, practically manhandling you deeper onto his cock. You shudder, letting out a shrill, high-pitched gasp as he intrudes further into your cunt, nudging the head of his cock against your sweetest of spots and making your body tremble.

“Haitham,” you gasp, “Haitham, fuck—fuck, you feel so good. So deep—love when you fuck me like this.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, kissing in between your pretty little scrunched-up eyebrows, “I love fucking you like this, too. When you take me so well, squeeze so tight, and let me feel you like the good girl you are.”

His words make your folds squeeze around him, and fuck—he’s close. So fucking close, the pad of his rough, callused thumb meets your clit as he rubs circles, trying to bring you to the edge before he goes plummeting himself.

“‘M close—almost…almost there,” you pant.

“Me too, baby,” he groans. He slams into you, skin slapping against skin and the glistening sheen of it mixing your sweat together. His mouth parts with pretty, low sounds of his pleasure, and your face twists with the devastating rush of yours.

Once. Twice. A third time, and you fall apart as he thrusts into you and presses the tip of his thick length against the spongey spot in the back of your walls.

“Haitham,” you gasp, legs tightening around him as your nails press crescent shapes into his back. “Fuck, I’m c-cumming…oh, Gods.”

“Good,” he gasps, and with one last roll of his desperate hips, he spills into you, too. A thick, sticky, familiar rush of heat fills your cunt, topes of cum painting you white within with every twitch of his aching cock. “Fuck—you feel so good. So perfect—you were made for me. Me.”

“You,” you whisper, breathless.

You let him shudder over you, fingers running through his hair as he finishes releasing his load into you before he slumps his wait over your body. It’s a small couch—decorative more than functional. (All thanks to Kaveh, of course.) But you don’t particularly care when you’re under him. It feels right all the same.

“We have the house to ourselves this weekend,” he reminds you after some time of catching your breaths. “So…so we can do this all you want.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes as you poke his forehead. “You’re obscene.”

“I’m romantic,” he corrects, “I just want to be with you and nothing else. Can’t blame a man when he’s been gifted such a beautiful sight before him.”

“And cheesy, too,” you huff.

He smiles. My love, my soul, my heart.

——————————

You wake up Monday morning to Alhaitham already gone—it’s rare that he’s ever up before you. He leaves the house just in time to make it to work exactly on the dot and not a moment sooner or a moment later. But, as is with any Akademiya position, there are quarterly meetings that even the scribe can’t avoid. You giggle at the image in your head of a grumpy Alhaitham carefully tiptoeing around the room as he miserably gets ready for an early morning of extra work, all while making sure he doesn’t wake you.

You yawn, sitting up to start your morning for your own day of work ahead—but it catches your eye before you can fully rise from bed, making you pause.

A note? No, you realize almost instantly. Not just a note—a letter.

To my love, my soul, my heart: Kalpalata lotuses will bloom soon. I forget how beautiful the world is sometimes, and I suppose it’s because I am always distracted by your beauty alone. Will you laugh as you read this? I suppose you might because even I must admit, it is a rather cliche thing to say. I can just picture your smile now, and I am certain I will have it memorized until my last breath. It’s easy to remember it so well when it’s all I see in my dreams. Have I told you how often I see you in them? It’s difficult to think that there was once a time in Sumeru when we did not dream. It seems like sleeping beside your body is no longer enough—your presence is required even in my slumber for me to truly be at peace. Perhaps when the lotuses bloom, we can take a trip to the deeper parts of the rainforest to catch a glimpse of a few. They say the vines are blessed by The Lord herself. I was never one to seek out the divine, but perhaps with a gift as sacred as you, I should take the time to thank Lady Kusanali for granting such brilliance to take bloom in my presence. Only, the difference is that here with you, there are no cliffs to climb or seasons to await. You are mine to bloom, always—my precious, beautiful lotus. Forever yours, Haitham ♡

ITS DONE. HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY FIRST AND LONGEST LOVE. YOU MEAN EVERYTHING AND MORE TO MEEEEE

#OK FIRST OF ALL I WAS SO EXCITED TO SEE THIS FIC GOES LIVE YOU HAVE NO IDEA #SO HERE COMES MY THOUGHTS (im writing the tag as i read so i can give u my live reading cause holy shit)#for the twenty one section: OK FIRST OF ALL HELLO MEET UGLY ?!??!!? I THINK THIS IS MY FAV HAITHAM'S FIRST MEETING CAUSE #HOLY SHIT YEA ID HAVE A HEADACHE TALKING TO THIS MAN-- and the banter us so so natural and funny-- what a lil shit he is lol //pos #BUT I ALSO LIKE THE SET UP FOR READER'S CHARACTER ?!?!?! I JUST LOVE HOW SASSY AND STRAUGHTFORWARD #*straightforward* SHE IS LIKE HELLO YOU GO GIRL BOSS #btw running into him in the house of daina cause he works there is also such a fun“oh theyre going to be friends” lead up I LOVE THAT #the line “i love draining a man of his wallet” legit got me going “YES QUEEN DO IT SUCK HIM DRY” AT READER IM SO ?!?!?!? //POS #ITS JUST ONE OF MY FAV BANTER AJDJSJDJSJDJ #ok to the twenty two: i havent read 23 yet but i think this is my favourite out this fic #because the situation is just set up so incredibly well-- haitham being conflicted cause hes so obviously in love but he doesnt know (or #isnt willing to submit his conclusion of her liking him back yet + him being thick skinned and this affected him just show how smitten he i #ALSO WOW HE GOT GUTS-- I MEAN HE KNOWS HE HAS GUTS BUT WOW THAT WAS VERY STRAIGHTFORWARD BRAVO BRAIN BOY #reader is so fucking sassy im actually in love with her like-- ok so shes definitely in love but she cant help being sassy when he said #'thats it' LIKE MAN AJDJSJDJSJDJ also the waiter... whos the waiter actually he got rizz what the heck #“the waiter that ruined his whole day give him the bill and something that ruin his mood for week” IM LITERALLY SO OBSESSED WITH THIS LINE #GOD IDK WHY BUT THERE IS SOME WEIRD CATHARTIC SEEING UR FAV SO IN LOVE THAT THIS WOULD RUIN THEIR MOOD AJDJSJDJSJD #OK ONTO TWENTY 3: HELLO WHERE DID WE WAKE UP IN CAN YOU REPEAT THAT I WAS WALKING MY FISH ?!?!?!#ON HIS BED ??? IN HIS CHEST ??????????#drunk sex cure relationship i stg (i jest for legal reason ofc) BUT OMG READER'S POV AFTER 2 YEARS OF HAITHAM SUFFERING #but oh my god she is so so so sweet... sweetie he's so in love with you you need to be more confident sob #BUT ALSO THE SMALLEST OF DETAIL SHE RECALLED LIKE HELLO ?!?!?!?! WIFE MATERIAL HAITHAM YOU LUCKY BITCH #“praying lord kusanali for blessing their small humble family and daughter for such a devine man” IM SORRY BUT THIS WAS SO FUNNY TO ME FOR #SOME REASON LIKE-- asian parents im sorry but theyd be so happy for real 😭😭 BUT YES GIRL YOU ARE WIFE MATERIAL #HAITHAM OF ALL PPL FALL FOR U UR THE CHOSEN ONE-- also their dialogue... im so weak river what :[[#ITS ACTUALLY SO SWEET ?!?!?! him saying i love you finally while reader is here having a spiral... :[[[#AUSGHASHHAHS ok haitham u are forgiven please treat reader well :[[[ NO TWENTY 3 IS SO SWEET IM #ALSO HIM MAKING SURE THEY COULD HAVE A GOOD LIFE IM ?!?!?! I CANNOT BE THIS WEAK RIGHT #AND THE CHEST COMMENT ?? I ACTUALLY LOVE SASSY HAITHAM LIKE THIS-- he should be like this more riv im begging hes so entertaining like this #OK TWENTY 4 OMG: THE BEGINNING TALKING ABT HIS PARENTS' LOVE IM... LIL HAITHAM NO...

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avatar-aaang · 6 months ago

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I had such a good day oh my god

#personal #started off cleaning and got A LOT done #and then met up with my friend!! and we went to this massive ass thrift store which is going out of business boooo #but! everything was 75% off #so i got a fuckton of stuff for just under $20 #when originally it would have been closer to $80 yeesh #and then we went back to her house to pick up her husband and we went out for dinner #she took me to this indian place around the corner and oh my god???? so fucking delicious #she was like umm do you do spicy things? can you handle spice? and im like fuck yes i love spicy things lets go #shes half indian herself so im guessing she grew up with food like that #i ended up with leftovers too so now i have breakfast bless #chatted with her husband a bit too. i don't think either of us know how to start talking ahsjdjfjfi we'll figure it out later #then i went by spirit and one of my fav coworkers was there and she was like xan!!! and ran over and hugged me <3 #it was really nicw #we caught up for a few mins and then i wandered and ran into a new coworker and i was like hi i like your shirt anyway youll be seeing #me soon lmaoooo #theyre like oh word #then we took a pic together and sent it to other coworker so she could see who she missed LMAO #very excited to go back to hang out with my friends #now im doing laundry and reading a new fic and honestly i feel like im about to fall asleep #i really wore myself out today #but it was very good

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hoshigray · 8 months ago

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I love your work so much and it makes me feel a certain way <33 BUTT im here to request something that I've been looking for 🤞🏽

Toji x Fan-Fiction-Writer ! Reader? I'll get on my knees if required 🫶🏽

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐜(𝐤)𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You know, some things are just not meant to be shared, such as fanfiction writing. And how the hell did your boyfriend, of all people, come to be the one to question you about your hobbies? You tell me, you dirty little writer…

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem fanfic writer! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - the reader is mid/late 20s; Toji's in his mid-30s - humor - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking, sucking and swiping) - deep impact position - degradation (slut, whore) - use of "Daddy" title - praise + humiliation - spitting - cervix fucking - little bit of rough sex - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy; don't be silly) - pet names (baby, cupcake, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweetie) - aftercare; taking a bath together - usage of a phone; erotic literature/writing - Toji teasing you to no end, the bastard, lol - reader wears glasses cuz why not, hehe - mention of drool/spit.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k (bless up)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: bro. this idea cooked so bad, i just HAD to make a fic for it, lmao!! apologies for doing this months late, hope I did the prompt justice, and ty for loving my works~☆

“Nooo, stop, Toji, give it back!”

“Hold on, baby, hold on…Phew, who knew ya liked wrtin’ dirty shit like this? The fuck is ‘pet play—’”

“Oh my God, stop it!”

This had to be, undoubtedly, the worst day of your life.

If there’s one thing every human being on Earth has in common, it’s their love for the weekends. They’re amazing — have two whole days to retreat and relinquish the turmoil and stress after five days straight. They’re the days when you can choose whichever activity you want to enjoy your leisure.

Some people catch up on sleep, others watch a show or try to cook up a new dish, and some go outside and hang out with friends. But then there are those weekdays where it’s satisfying enough to spend your day inside the comfort of your home, delighting in a hobby.

The hobby you chose to indulge in this weekend was writing. And right at this moment, you regret it being the activity you selected.

Why? For one, it wasn’t just any type of writing, like journalling or poetry. No, no; if it were, things would be easier for you to deal with now. Nope, it was fan fiction writing. The type of writing you’ve known since middle school and decided to jump in and try for about a year. What started as a curiosity turned out to be a hobby that took up your infatuation to the maximum level: writing pieces every night, taking up requests from your following over six thousand followers, and serving as an outlet to project your fantasies onto the Internet.

What type of fantasies, you might ask? The type you read in a room by yourself or in the corner away from prying eyes, under a blanket with your phone exhibiting the dark secrets that corrupt your mind, or the type that only could be accepted on the Internet and not from the judgmental looks of those in the real world.

But, most certainly, not the type of fantasies you wanted your boyfriend to see!

“Toji, please, give my computer back!”

“Nah, hold on; I wanna see this…Oh, what a title; ‘Fuck Me, Rail Me, Use Me, Daddy—‘“

“TOJI, STOP!”

Perhaps writing fan fiction with your boyfriend occupying your apartment wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted to get a draft don’t by the end of this weekend, and you were almost done with it. You were typing up a storm in your bedroom, sitting at your desk while your man, Toji Fushiguro, was doing at-home exercises in your living room.

And you could’ve sworn you had locked your computer before going to the bathroom. All you know is that after flushing and washing your hands, you opened your bedroom door to a horrifying sight: Toji, sweaty from his routine in his sweats and wife beater, holding up your laptop that showed the exact draft that you were working on! No, no, NO! You almost tripped dashing to take the device, but the older man was too quick and effortlessly dodged your attempts while still reading the material. And now you know why you are hopping around your room trying to catch the man and stop him from reading more of your stuff.

Spoiler alert: your efforts were beyond futile, huffing and puffing in complete defeat on your bed. Your boyfriend was sitting beside you, still reading aloud while scrolling through your drafts, to your dismay. Your ears and cheeks harbored an unbearable heat that you could cry at any second, and you covered your face in case it were to happen. God, please kill me now!

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, how many of these shits have you written?” Toji inquires, his forest green eyes scanning every draft as if the list were endless. “How long have you been doin’ this?”

“For…a while.” You can barely muster the confidence to utter an adequate response. How could I have forgotten to lock my damn computer?!

“How long’s a while?”

“Uhhh, a…a year?”

The silence was pinching your skin enough, but you don’t know if you preferred it over the next thing he said. “Wow, who would’ve thought my sweet angel was a dirty lil’ thing writing filth like this?” Oh, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. You can practically sense the smirk on his stupid, handsome face, pulling the scar off his lip! And it hurts your being that he laughs at you grabbing a pillow to scream into oblivion. “What a horny minx.”

You removed the pillow to tell him off. “It’s not all my fault! Most of those aren’t even my ideas; some of my followers asked me to write—“

“Followers?” God, would it have killed you to shut up? “So you got people readin’ your stuff?”

Downcast eyes to avoid his surveying ones, “W–Well, yes…People like how I write, so I…..Write whatever they ask me.”

“Oh, wow,” raven eyebrows lift while looking at the screen, flipping through the notes of your drafts to your blog with your completed works. “So over a hundred freaks like how freaky you write.”

“Hey, d–don’t say it like that!”

“Oh really?” You didn’t like how he said that, nor when he pulled up one of your drafts to read. “… ’You spread your legs on instinct as she sucks on your chest, and the woman takes the initiative by sliding a hand down to your—‘“

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You sit upright and try again to take the computer away from him, but Toji swiftly moves to the bedroom floor. Fuck! It was hopeless, so you groan in exasperation. “Quit it, Toji; you had your fun, so give it back!”

He didn’t think so; finding something new about you made him curious to no bounds. And for it to be a bit of a suggestive side of you? Oh, how ashamed you were of him finding this out tickled him. “Damn, there’s so much on here…Have you ever written ‘bout shit we’ve done?”

You couldn’t believe he asked you that question — you couldn’t believe you were in this situation at all! Are you serious ”—ly asking me that?!?”

“I’m not hearin’ a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’” Now, this is just diving into a more profound level of embarrassment than you could handle. “Did’ya?”

“……………yes.”

“Wait, fr’ real?! Which ones?”

“I’m not telling you! Just give me my laptop—“

“Hell nah,” his elbow is strong enough to keep you at bay—how pathetic on your part being treated like a kid. “I’m curious to see what my lil’ sweetheart is tellin’ strangers ‘bout how we do our business—“

“I’m not telling them anything!!” You retort. “I-I just use our experience as a means of…references when I’m writing,” thumbs find themselves fidgeting together. “It…It helps when I don’t know how to describe a feeling, or….what it’s like during certain…..positions.” Was the room getting stuffy, or were you shrinking under the growing pressure of every word coming out of your mouth? Who knows.

“Is there stuff y’ve written before that you’d like fr’ us to try?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, this was too much, bringing your –his– hoodie up to shield you from this predicament. And it only worsens when he stares your way, having you close up the hoodie by the drawstrings and collapse to his shoulder. Toji chuckles at your routing self, wrapping an arm around you. “Can’t even be honest fr’ a second.”

“Toji, pleaseeee,” whining doesn’t help, the older man moving the laptop out of your lazy attempt to retrieve it. “Give it baaack…!”

“Nnm, nnm, don’t wanna,” he places the device away to the ground and takes your hand with his. “Now I gotta read what weird shit you’ve been keepin’ ‘way from me.”

You shake your head frantically. “Please don’t! Don’t you think you’ve tormented me enough today?”

“Now, why would I ever get tired of fucking with ya?” The smirk on his face is still present after you open the hoodie to sneak a glare. “Shoulda thought ‘bout that and locked y’r laptop screen.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole…” his laugh at your words only proves your point, and you bury your face in his chest. This entire thing was so outrageous. How in the world were you this dumb enough not to double-check to make sure your computer was locked from prying eyes? What an amateurish move! Not even your closest friends know that you write fanfiction, so to have your boyfriend be the one to not only find out but bombard you with questions about your secret hobby is nothing short of humiliating. It can’t get any worse than this…

…Or so you thought.

“Hey,” you perk up to look at Toji. “You said ya got followers askin’ ya what they want you to write, right?” You nod meekly, twirling your thumbs with the bottom of your shirt. “Show me some.”

Appalled, you gawk, “Wh–why would I—”

“I know you have favorites from the hundreds I’ve been looking at for the past five minutes. So, are ya gonna show ‘em to me, or am I gonna have to read every single one to find out?”He didn’t show interest in returning the laptop to you even after asking the question. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, baby; I bet ya can look it up on y’r phone or somethin’.”

Your pout deepens in defeat as you begrudgingly stuff a hand inside the pocket of your leggings to pull out your phone to click on an app. Your thumb clicks and scrolls for a few seconds before you peer to him and say, “…I do have some favorites.”

Jesus, it hurt to admit that to someone, especially with your him of all people, who is without a doubt getting an absolute kick out of this, the fucking bastard! This was beyond embarrassing; nothing could ever top this moment. Indeed, there is nothing else he could have done that could have made this predicament any worse than it already is. At least that’s what you tell yourself to cope because Toji’s grin on his face says otherwise. And what he says afterward makes your blood shift to ice.

“Why don’t ya read ‘em to me.”

Yup, you were killing yourself tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Go on; read that short one fr’ me.”

“Ahh—…Hahhh, ‘Sitting here and thinking��about your faves…Mmmm.”

For some reason, this felt so. Fucking. Wrong!

You already knew it was a bad idea for you to read your works to your boyfriend at his request. However, to be fulfilling said wish in this manner? The mortification had your ears ringing a thousandfold.

How would you have foreseen this yourself, face stuffed to the pillow with your phone held up by your right hand with your legs spread up and your bottom propped up? Who the hell reads like this?! And on top of that, your boyfriend is alongside you, his body behind you. The inability to see what he’s doing arises uneasiness in the soul, quivers sneaking up as you feel the rough pads of his fingertips greet the skin of your ass after sneaking inside the oversized hoodie.

Breath hitches at the slide of your panties, coming down for his hands to grope the flesh wholly. “To..ji…” his name leaves in shakes.

“C’mon, baby,” you swallow thickly at the cupping of your chasm. Toji chuckles at the twitch felt on his palm, “Read it properly, yeah? Word for word.”

Oh, fuck, your brows trench together. “T…’Thinking about your faves pleasing you from behind. He knows he has to tease you a bit—Tmmm,” his lightly hits your butt. “‘B-By massaging your ass with his strong hands,” he does so, kneading your ass skillfully that has you involuntarily purring to his touch. “…’Keeping you still and relaxed so he can later feel you with his fingers and—“ his forefinger and middle slowly come from your clit to the entrance, biting your lips. “Nhhmm, hahhh.”

“Go on,” Toji scolds, the middle digit sliding up and down with a faint push. Your back quakes to the touch, fingers gripping the pillow. “What else is y’r fav doing?”

You inhale. “Mmmm…’and circle one of them around to warm you up—‘“ spit gulped down again when Toji’s digit did the exact thing as told. “‘And then, when he knows you’re ready for him, he sneaks them insi—‘ Aaaiiii!” His middle finger is shoved into your vagina, and your toes instantly curl before he pushes the rest ever so slowly. “Oh! Ohhh, fuck…’He…then comes to your shoulder and says to your ear to make you tingle…”

“…’Stay still, sweetie,’” woah. You were not expecting that; you were too focused on trying to read your words, and Toji bending to your ear to read his part wasn’t noticed at all. You only hope he didn’t catch the clasp of your vaginal walls around his finger (he most definitely did), hoping the soft chortle meant nothing. “‘Gonna let me make y’ feel good, yeah?’” Jesus Christ, his gruff voice relayed this so intimately to your eardrums that your heart was beating too hard.

Toji’s finger goes faster, nearly having you almost drop your phone. Your face smooshes to the pillow from the scrape of his fingertip, biting on the pillowcase as he puts in the other finger. He whispers to your ear to keep going; unbelievable…So you lift your head and try. “J-J…’Just thinking about how easy he could make you cum—Mmmph! Wi-With his fingersss…scratching and rubbing your insides so precisely until you’re practically begging to mess his hand up’…”

“Oh, fr’ real?” The perk of his tone makes you anxious. “Well, don’ mind if I do.”

The pace of his ring and middle finger increase, and you gasp sharply. The onslaught of rubs to your inner channel is enough to have your lower half writhe despite Toji keeping your legs grounded with his single one. Oh, fucking Christ, your glasses up to your smooshed cheeks the more you try to conceal your cries, proven to be trivial as the seconds go by.

“Aww, whaddaya think y’re doin’?” He coos with a kiss to your nape; you nearly shut down. His free hand takes your phone, “Tryin’ to hide that cute voice of y’rs from me? Fuck that,” he then removes his digits from your chasm as you yelp and makes you flip to your back. Oh, fuck no! Your hands go to cover your face—nope, Toji is quick to move them away. “Lemme see you, mama…Now, let’s see what else you should read fr’ me.” He swipes your phone screen, “This too wordy, this long as fuck—goddamn, baby; you writin’ whole ass novels or somethin’?”

“Shut up,” you reply as your legs move, and Toji’s left hand removes your undies.

“Ah, this one!” He hands you back your cellular device. Your eyes catch the first sentence, and your face morphs into dread before staring back at him to meet his grin. “Go ‘head,” he says cooly, spreading your legs by the knees.

“…’Picture this: your favorite coming to your room and seeing you on your bed and striding to you to taste you,” you inhale deeply at the blow of air on your wet southern folds. “‘He crawls up to you while you’re busy scrolling on the phone, busying himself with placing kisses to your stomach and down to your undies. He’ll then take them off and spread your legs for him, greeting your privates with his ton’—Ghhh…!” Toji licks your slit leisurely; you gulp at the muscle perching between the lips of your labia. “Hahhh, shit…’The smell and taste of you are so inviting he can barely keep it together, virtually inching to stuff his face with your pussy. He kisses it, lips petting your clit,’” he does so, and you chew your bottom lip. “‘Then his tongue goes excruciatingly slow to e-explore your folds,” your exhale is shaky as Toji’s tongue laps and swirls; fuck, I can’t do this…

The older man, on the other hand, flips a switch and goes to town. You knew this was a bad idea; if there’s one thing Toji loved doing more than fucking your cunt, it’s eating it out. He pushes your legs up by the knees for easier access, the angle perfect for him to propel his mouth onto your entrance. You shriek, his nose frequently grinding the hood of your cunt as his scarred lips and tongue suck and lick you feverishly.

“—Tahhh! Ohhhshit, no…!” You cry, throwing your head back to the pillow. “Ahhnn, Tojiii, stop…not too fast—Oooh!”

He spits, mixing his saliva with your slick as he laves. “Mmmph, shit, taste ’o good,” Toji pushes his face further as he sucks on your clit, and you nearly choke on your sob. “Yeah, yeah, let ‘em out; scream like a real whore.” You jerk, but his hands firmly keep you down. “Keep goin’, cupcake, finish y’r reading.”

“Khhh, God, I can’t,” you gulp when emerald eyes peer toward you. “…’Before long, he’s too overwhelmed by you that he can’t take it anymore, stuffing his face between your legs and having you cry out his name in prayers—your phone is no longer a priority.’” Jesus, you can hear his grunts along with the lascivious sounds coming from below; he’s so fucking turned on. “‘Now he has your attention, playing with your…pussy like a toy just to hear you squeak.”

“Fuck yeah,” he groans as he sticks his fore and middle digits into you. Fingers go to and fro frantically, and your free hand grabs his raven hair. “Christ, y’ sound so fuckin’ hot. More, gimme more,” a long and harsh kiss to your clit makes you want to arch so bad. “Good girl, good fuckin’ girl…”

You hiss at the graze of your vagina; keeping your eyes open is hard to do. Lips go agape, and your noises fly out with no restraint. Your legs tremble, impending in a wish to close from the curl of Toji’s fingers. Your senses become too keen, your nerves heightening with every massage of your walls, lick and slurp of your slick and clit.

“Ohooo, nhhmm, fuck, Tojiiii,” another suck to your clit has you grip the sheets. “Stooop, please; I’m gonna cumm…!”

However, your boyfriend has another idea in his head. “Oh no, you don’t, princess,” his fingers leave you hurriedly with a squeal. He yanks for your phone once more to find yet another piece of yours for you to read, giving you so little time to recuperate. Until he scoffs with a smirk, “Ohh, read this one aloud next.”

You take the device returned to you cautiously, scanning the first few words that catch your eye. Curiosity snaps to apprehension, “W-wait, no, please!” Begging won’t work, but it doesn’t hurt to try. “Please, Toji, look for some—“

“Aht, aht,” the click of the tongue shuts you. “C’mon, sweetheart, that ain’t what y’re callin’ y’r fav right now.” He squeezes your thigh, “What’s my name?”

“Toji, pleas—“

“Mm, mm,” he pinches you, a warning. “Try again.”

Excitement Nervousness flicker through your soul, breathing tardily as you muster to answer. “Sorry…Daddy.” The title burnt your tongue when it left your mouth, and the smile lifted Toji’s scar even more.

“Good,” he praises. “Now read.”

“…One of my followers asked about writing a post about deep impact, so it’s—“

“Deep impact?” He questions while spreading your legs. “The hell’s that?”

“I-It’s a, uhh,” you push up your glasses. “A position where you…kinda, like, sit on one of my legs and lift the other to your shoulder.”

Black eyebrows rise. “Ohhh, somethin’ like this, huh?” Sturdy hands find your ankle and lift your leg to his shoulder, and Toji then moves to have your other leg in between his. Your lips flatten when the groin of his pants—aka, the pitched tent–touches your hole. He whistles, “Oh, now I got a new favorite to add fr’ later.” His words aren’t meant to jest, so you frown as he snickers. “Alright, what did you write for this?”

You lick your lips; why? Toji uses his free hand to bring his sweats down, not surprised by the lack of underwear as his erection springs out. His cock is standing and ready for you, the precum oozing out alluring your eyes and your lip bitten by excited teeth. Of course, your vagina is clenching to a void—anticipation is a hell of a drug affecting your entire figure.

“Don’t get too distracted, mama,” he caught you eyeing him, lifting the hem of his wife’s beater to bite down on. Your ears and cheeks scorched at the sight of his abs and torso. “Read those words.”

Your gaze flickers to your phone while Toji lines his dick to your entrance, a gulp at the kiss of his glans and your inner labia. “…’Daddy has you propped in a deep impact, a position catered to mutual pleasure and closeness. He taps you with the tip to have you excited, then slowly pushes himself into your—Mmfff!…y-your warmth,” reminding yourself to maintain a steady breath; Toji pushes his cockhead into your slick as you’re distracted. A few seconds fly by, and he slips right in; a gasp exiting your puffy lips indicates so. “‘H–He gently shoves every inch and stretches you out,’” his girth is lethal, your eyes rolling up the further his tip goes, scrapping your texture and your opening suiting for his length. “‘A-And, it feels so good to have him making you full and good’—Hoohh?!?”

That’s it, that’s what you were anxious about—you felt the jab of his tip on your cervix. You freeze instantly, too shocked to breathe as the hit was spontaneous. Your body locks down for a quick second to process what happened.

Toji notices your tightened grip and hisses, “Fffuuckin, shit…! So tight,” his hips go sluggish, and you feel his veins and shaft brush nicely with your insides. You sneak a glance at his flashed abdomen; the flex of his abs as he pushes his pelvis in waves is a sight to see–enough to put you in a trance.

You continue. “‘His hip work is pleasuring, having you wail and cry out f-for more…the sensation of Daddy’s dick venturing inside and hitting your sweet spots is enough to make your toes curl—Nhhaaa…”

He can sense you gripping on him more; fuck, it feels so good. His thrusts go a little faster, forming a minimal medium. You exhale through your nostrils at the change of pace, and grazes against your walls become periodic and long-lasting the deeper he goes.

“Daaah, ahhh, f-fuuck,” you whimper aloud. “Tojiii, y’ feel so g—Nnnmm!?!“ You nearly swallow your tongue from the sudden pound of him, the rub of your G-spot too abrupt to predict.

“Who?” God, you know he’s getting a good kick out of this, the fucker. He pushes his cock to the hilt, and it takes everything in your power not to babble from the overwhelming intensity.

“Daddy, daddyyy, don’t…!” Correcting yourself as his fingers dance around your unattended clit. “I’m sorry, you just feel so good..”

That’s more like it. “Good girl,” he bends closer, his knees spreading further apart. He pushes the leg on his shoulder so that the angle is plausible for him to rut harder. You shriek and squirm to his enjoyment, “Keep readin’.”

“‘Y-…You’re cries become more shameful the harder and faster he goes,” Toji stimulates for a harsher pound; another hit to your cervix has you winded. Despite your gasping for air, he doesn’t relent, and you jerk to undulate to another poke. “Sh-shiiit, Jesusss…! ‘He pistons so hard, so deep, it’s difficult even to think straight when all you can think is—‘“ a choked sob from a slow pull before a devious snap of the hips. “A-All you c–an think…Ahahh!” Another nudge to your G-spot; this is so hellish!

The culprit scoffs softly. “Think ‘bout what, baby?” He swipes and pinches your clit to have you jolt and whine. “Tell Daddy the rest.”

Fuck, I can’t take it anymore! The phone slips your hand, barely missing your head. “Daddyyy, I can’t!”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Another pinch to the bud pairs with a poke to your delicate womb. Oh, he’s such a dick! “Don’t wanna read fr’ me?” He chuckles aloud at you shaking your head ‘no’. “Why’s that?”

“C-Cuz, if you keep going, I’ll,” a head thrown back at another nip on your clitoris. “Ahh, I-I’ll…!” Shit, you can feel it, the climb rocking your bones to entail your soon climax.

“What? Ya wanna cum on Daddy’s dick instead of readin’ like a sweetheart,” don’t believe the words; his faux disappointment doesn’t match the merciless thrusts and the devilish grin. “Wanna act like a whole slut and cum on me?”

“Yesss, yes, pleasee!!” You don’t care anymore; you want to let it out. “Please, Daddyyy, I wanna cummm!!”

“Heh, what a nasty girl you are—Nnnmm! Fuck, just milkin’ me dry, beggin’ fr’ it, huh?” The same fingers he used to play with your clit come to your lips to shove inside, forcing you to taste yourself. “Go ‘head, mama; let y’rself go, be the slut you really are…Hahhh, shit, c’mere,” he grabs for both your wrists with his free hand after taking off your glasses and propels you towards him at the same time as he pounds. Holy fuck, this position was getting rougher, pulling you in and hitting your cervix with accurate hits that you’re whining and twitching. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck! It’s too much, it’s all too much to bear, so it’s no wonder you climax in seconds.

You cry with the breach of your crescendo, your inner muscles contracting around the cock, hitting your womb. Your nerves are now peaked as the air is sensitive to your skin, and you feel so out of breath, everything happening all at once that you can’t keep up as you thank Toji in babbled prayers, still sucking on his fingers as your vagina flutters and coats him of your essence.

“Good job, cupcake,” he comes closer and removes his digits. “Can’t beat the real thing, right?” He cups and massages your cheeks before spitting into your mouth.

You don’t even flinch, too fucked out to even care, just moaning to his lips as he brings you in for a passionate kiss as his hips keep going until he’s done and satisfied…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Ughhh, I can’t believe I just did that…”

“Pfft quit whinin’. Don’t act like ya didn’t enjoy it.”

“I hate you so fucking much, you know that?”

“Whatever y’ say, Ms. Novelist.” You grumble at the name before he brings the washcloth to wipe down your neck.

You and Toji were now in the bathroom, your nude bodies squished together, with the warm water cleansing you both. Hair and skin damp, your back meshed to his front as you sit between his legs. The soft yellow lighting basks the bathroom with a warm glow as you two bathe in relaxation, a needed state after the excitement prior.

You snatch the washcloth before Toji wipes your face clean off. “Why did you have to be so nosy, looking at my laptop for what?” You wipe his arm that rests on the rim of the tub.

He rolls his eyes, knowing he’s in for a lecture. “Well, if ya didn’t want me to see, shoulda locked the shit.”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re nosy as hell! Could’ve just looked somewhere else or left the room!”

“Hmph, well, when you see the words ‘Down and Dirty’ all bolded and big and see another tab with a pic of a rimjob, who wouldn’t stop—“

“Okay, okay!” It would be best if you threw the cloth at him for chortling; such an indecorous personality for someone supposedly older than you. “You’re insufferable.”

“Right back at you,” he whispers to your ear and kisses your cheek. You sigh softly from his lips, resting your head on his shoulder while he pecks your chin. The hand in the water finds your thigh to grope and massage, and you moan at the touch and unwind.

Tranquility fills the cozy space between you two as the silence settles in, the humid air comforting to your nose and eyes, and the drip of the faucet plucking into the tub water is a soothing sound to cajole you into a dormant plane.

However, even when relaxing, it doesn’t stop the bothersome feeling of asking Toji something. And where better than with you in his secure embrace? “Toji,” his name has him open an eye to look your way. “You don’t think I’m…weird, don’t you?”

He raises a brow. “Explain.”

“Like, don’t you find it weird that me, your partner, indulges in hobbies that are…you know, like that,” now your eyes trail away from his gaze. “Writing about fictional fantasies and such, looking up erotic material and stuff…”

A few seconds fly as he scoffs. “Baby, I’ve been lookin’ at porn way before I met you—“

“Th–That’s not what I meant??”

“Besides, it’s nothing more than just writin’ shit that doesn’t exist. Hmm, if anything, now I know y’re just as big of a pervert as I am.”

Anxiousness transitions to peeve. “You are so—“

“Do you like what you do?”

The question takes you aback; the immediate serious tone switch wasn’t expected. “…I..yeah.”

“Are ya hurtin’ anyone?”

“No…at least I don’t want to.”

“Are ya hurtin’ y’reself?” You see what he’s doing, the glint shining from his viridian orb.

“No. I…like this hobby.”

Finally, a small smile contorts that scar of his. “Then I don’t mind it. It’s what ya like to do, so do whatever, sweetie.” He comes to kiss your nose and rest his forehead with yours. “I like ya bein’ a lil’ weird anyway.”

“Jackass…” And there you go, falling in love with him again. You cup his cheek, kiss the other, and repose onto his shoulder with a blissful sigh.

“Now,” you blink back to him. “Can’t lie, think you gotta start callin’ me ‘Daddy’ from now on,” like a scratched record, your heart stops, especially with his mischievous smirk. “Where can I read the rest of y’r stuff at?”

“That’s it,” you ignore his annoying bark of laughter as you try to squirm out of his hold. “Let me out of here, get me out of this fucking tub.”

“Haha, hey, quit it; y’re spillin’ the water!”

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ladyoftheblades · 8 months ago

Text

HEIR APPARENT

jacaerys velaryon x aegonstwin!reader

synopsis: the realm worships firstborns, seconborn children however, especially girls, need to make their own way in the world

words: 11k (bear with me)

a/n: i realised this after i finished and was too bored to correct it, imagine rhanenyra didnt have time to propose marrige beyween reader and jacaerys due to driftmark. ALSO i havent watched the dinner scene in 2 years and i cannot find it on the sites so excuse any unorthodoxy. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE im also dyslexic :) !!!!! this was heavil inspired by the lovely @myladysapphire 's fic "seduction" which you should go read warnings: some gaslighting, dry humping, fingering, heavy petting, making out, intoxication

the birth of a child is a joyus occasion for any ordinary family, for the royal house targaryen ... not always.

it was a sunny summer day when the queen alicent went into labour, the sun shined its golden rays upon the keep making its redstone material even more beautifull. while the festivities of the tourney in the babes honor roared outside, the noise and cheers and laughter penetrated the keeps walls, filling the rooms with the joy of the celebration. all rooms but one.

alicent screamed and whrithed with the unimaginable pain of labour. viserys walked up the stairs with a newfound excitement, yet, as he reached the door of his wifes rooms he stopped. the weight of his pursuit of an heir, the one than killed his first wife hit him like an angry wave. cold sweat ran across his forhead. no, his beloved aemmas life was not in vain, rhaenyra would sit the throne, he rationalized. straightening his posture, he oppened the door.

every minute felt like eons for viserys. by the grace of the gods the babe arrived quickly. "a son, your grace" said the maester. music to viserys ears. a midwife handed him the swaddled babe. "welcome to the family aegon"said the king. enamoured by his son, it took a second before he heard his wife groaning again. "another babe !" exclaimed the maester. "another blessing" chimed in the midwife. and thus, a girl was born.

that was how the princess came into the world. a little surprise for her family. a little unwanted surprise.

as the princess grew up that was the word that defined her existance, unwanted. not abused,no, but she was not the first boy, not the heir, not even the spare. just another girl.

she came to understand her position very well, quiet and demure, refusing to cause any fuss around her existance for no one else did.

especially not her older sister rhaenyra. despite the little girls admiration for her, rhaenyra never spared her a second glance.she did not mistreat her younger sister by any means, just too busy being heir and having children of her own. she had no time for a child that was unwanted in the first place.

Her father on the other hand, downright ignored her. the excitement of having a son consumed him in those first years after their birth. there was no love left for her. soon, even that ran out and it was as if her and her brother never existed.

it did not matter though, she found solace in her other family. the queen alicent loved her daughter dearly, not absolved of ignoring her at times in favour of her brother, but it was ok, she did far more than any other. attached by the hip to aegon,they did everyting together, it was only natural, the realm viewed her as nothing but an extension of him anyway.

by the time her twelfth nameday came to be, it was widely accepted she would be married to her twin. though young she understood the implications of such a proposal. aegon, her fathers long awaited male heir, would be king and she his queen. the idea rooted in her mind. queen of the realm. the most influential woman of the seven kingdoms. it rooted and festered untill her rambition consumed her everymost descision. to her, it was only fair. all the attention she was denyed in her childhood would be atoned for. she would finaly get what she deserved.

the gods had other plans though. more like, otto hightower had other plans. rhaenyra proposed a betrothal between helaena, alicents secondborn and jacaerys her firstborn. to alicent it was an insult, one that had to be prevented by any means.

it was not difficult for otto to get the king to agree to marry helaena and aegon instead. to the king it made no difference, the affairs of his daughters whose name were not rhaenyra did not matter.

:readmore:

the news reached the princess on her way to driftmark for her aunt laenas funeral. ser otto hightower, upon the queens incistance, was tasked with breaking the news.

"that is not fair!" she shouted toward her grandsire, franticaly moving around, her erratic movements exaderated by those of the ship. "oh hush child, you know better than anyone nothing is promised in this life" he responded, calm, collected, slightly irritated.

"but i heard it, mother and lord larys, saying the marrige would sway the kind toward changing the succesion". Suddently otto rose from his seat. the princess was throwing a tantrum, a dangerous one. if word were to reach the king about their scheming to strip rhaenyra of her heritage, it could cost both his and his daughters heads. "now how did you hear such a thing?". the air had shifted, the calmnes in his voice replaced by more irritation and something new. fear, perhaps ?

"it... it matters not how i came upon the information it matters that i now know. so please explain to me why i ought to be cast aside in this way. i am a princess !"

"so is your sister. you love your sister, do you not?" "i do... but i was promided something and i plan to see it realised" diplomatic words for a child, otto thought.

"it does not matter though does it ? you understand rhaenyra is heir, yes ?" she nodded. "and your goal, as i understand, is to be queen, yes ?" he had now moved from where he was standing and was sitting next to her on the sette. she nodded again.

"you know of the favouritism your father shows rhaenyra, as he sees it she is his only child, therefore his only heir"

"but-but father wanted a son, he should be the heir" startled by ottos movements, her initial anger turned to silent disapointment, her little face pouting. "do not go around running your mouth saying such things" he responded hurriedly "you may be a princess but your neck is in as much danger as anyones" he turned to look into her eyes

"we understand the way things are, your father however is blinded by his grief. aegon is not heir, his wife will not be queen. you would not acquire the power you seek either way."

"i understand...".

Satisfied with himself for having stiffled his granddaughters tantrum, he turned away once again. "now you are free to take a husband of your choise, to seek love, is that not what all young maidens dream of ?" her pouting face remained. "love is nothing in the absence of power" otto chuckled, if only his daughter had shared that same mindset. the dragon was more hightower than he thought. "in what book did you read that now".

Before she could answer a knock sounded at the door. the queen entered, sir criston in toe. "we are to dock soon, return to your siblings at once little one" said alicent, somewhat taken aback by the sight of her dughter and father side by side. "yes your grace" said the little girl before quickly exiting.

alicent turned to her father. "i trust you were not corrupting her with any of your sheming" she stated, matter-of-factly. "trust me daughter, i did not need to... be more careful when speaking with the small council from now on, the walls have eyes in the red keep"

after docking the little princess was going through the motions of royal protocol as if possesed, certainly lacking the sort of queenly air shed carried herself with up untill that point. it no longer mattered. her dreams were shattered, all she ever wanted, all she ever hoped for, gone, in a single boat trip.

vaemond spoke yet none of his words reached her. she looked to her sister rhaenyra from across the procession. the vision of a queen, long silver hair braided in the fashions of the queen rhaenys. hugging her children close to her arms, arms meant to hold her.

no matter how much she attempted to push these feelings down, to pretend, her sisters indifference hurt, now more than ever. the longer she studied rhaenyra and the longer rhaenyra refused to spare her a single glance, she got more and more depressed. so much so she did not notice a pair of big brown eyes next to rhaenyra staring right at her.

after the procession was completed the guests started mingling, lords discussing deals, families exchanging condolances and such. as a princess of the realm she was excpected to offer her condolances to the family of the deceased, she walked forth to greet her cousins, baela and rhaena, the dragon twins. normally it would be a chance to excersise her queenly grace, now it was but another motion. "im sorry for your mother, my condolances." she spat out. "thank you, cousin" replied baela. rhaena was solemn, only looking at her shoes. her nephews standing next to her, she could not care less.

having fulfilled her duty she left without a word. no one would pay attention to the thorn of house targaryen anyway. and none did. except for those same brown eyes from earlier.

as she walked further and further away from the crowd she was greeted by the salty driftmark air. the rough cliffs and architecture were opposite of the red keeps. but it was a welcome change, the red keep was a place of lies and dissapointment.

eventually she reached a small nook amongs the salty castle walls. finally some respite. she sat on the ground and took a deep breath.silence. yet peace did not last long. soon footsteps sounded, coming toward her, untill they stopped.

she looked up. a young boy of dark eyes and darker hair. jacerys velaryon. the firstborn of her firstborn sister. his features struck her even more from up close. she knew the rumors. alicent spoke of them constantly when she thought she was not listening. she may have perpatuated some of them herself, on those bad days her sisters rejection particularly stung. she never thought of jacerys, never spoke to him, as far as she was concerned he was only an extension of her sister.

"what do you want ?" she spat courtly. "i dunno"replied jacaerys.

"its your aunts funeral you should be with your mother and siblings" "dont want to."

cautiously, he sat next to her. they stayed there a while, siletly staring at the wild waves ahead. it was...strangely comfortable. jacerys was born a few years after her and despite their both growing up in the red keep togerher, they rarely spoke. he knew nothing of his familys distaste for her, a stranger to the sins surrounding her name, ther girl doubted his mother spoke of her. to him she was practicaly a stranger.

after a while sitting in this comfortable silence, he dared speak up. "should we head back ?". "you should, i doubt anyone noted my absence"

"why ?" his voice rung with something unfamiliar to her, something akin to...concern. "you cannot note the absence of something you took no notice of in the first place" replied she solemnly. the emotion in her voice surprised even herself, something about this boy moved her. the princess did not like it. "i took notice, i mean, i followed you here" she felt his eyes on the side of her face yet did not dare return his gaze. "...thank you jacerys. why did you follow me ?"

"i thought you looked lonely" if shed turned her head sideways the princess would note him blushing. the comfortable silence returned.

prince jacerys knew not of this feeling bubbling in his chest. he had noticed his aunt during the funeral. he always took notice of her. walking around the keep, catching glimpses of her in the library after finishing her studies. his favourite part of training was gazing upon her form, framed by helaenas window, the yard had a perfect view. he always noticed her, always saw her, even when she looked elswere. his mother never bothered formally introducing them, rarely ever spoke of her. neither did his grandsire. he never went out of his way to greet her either, out of fear or nerves he did not know.

today was his window of opportunity. rhaenyra had sent him to comfort his cousins yet he could not take his mind off of his aunt. when she came and greeted baela, walking away right after, it was perfect. quickly, he dismissed himself and slipped away from everyone. the vision of her walking the tumoltous balconies of driftmark, silver hair blowing in the wind, she looked like a vision, calling him to her side. and now here he was.

neither of them knew how long they sat like that. they only knew of the feelings flowing between them. a strange sense of comfort. eventually though they had to return. she stood up first. "come on, we must head back, your mother is worried about you"

heading back they were greeted by no rhaenyra and no daemon. before jacerys could speak a word to the princess she vanished. he joined his cousins once again, they spoke to him yet he heard none of it, silently staring at the direction she dissapeared.

the princess awoke the next morning, having slept soundly that night, a certain strong face haunting her dreams. she arose from her bed and went to call for her handmaidens, yet stepping outside the room, no guard was present, confused and still foggy from sleep she put on a robe and began walking toward her good-sister helaenas room, not far from her own. stepping inside she found her sister blankly staring out of the window, not unusual for helaena. what was unusual was her complete unacnoledgment of her. cautiously she approached the window. "helaena, sister, what has happened ?" "he closed an eye.." her sister was always a bit odd, most brushed her strange words off, but the princess understood the importance of her strange visions

"helaena, please speak it to me plainly, who closed an eye ?" helaena tore her gaze from the scenery outside, vast uneasy brown eyes staring into her sisters

"aemond claimed vhagar late last night, lucerys took his eye in return"

years passed since that fateful night in driftmark. the night the house of the dragon official split in two. the two factions came to be known as the greens and the blacks.

she had grown, childhood long gone -if it ever existed-, now matured into a young woman. what never left was her feelings of betrayal. aegon and helaenas wedding took place not long after driftmark, and though she loved her sister deeply, jealousy ran deep. helaena was a fool who was handed an opportunity she could not comprehend. it took her some time to get over that day but she did, she had to.

despite ottos words on the boat, she knew better. after driftmark the greens scheming became more obvious. though she wasnt privy to all information, she knew their plans. stupid stupid otto hightower. he told her it did not matter, he told her all the things she wanted to hear, needed to hear. she hated herself for falling for his honeyed words. she was only a girl of two and ten but still. she ought to have known better. maybe, if she had put more pressure onto alicent she would have won. her resentment grew into a monster, wild and untameable, feeding on her want for the throne.

there was one other consequence of that day, she never got to see jacerys again. she never thought it would bother her before, but it did. that day, the words he spoke to her, his tone, the genuine concern laced in every sentance haunted her dreams. she dared not think about him while awake, fearful of what conclusions she may reach.

fate is funny in its ways. the uncertain parentage of rhaenyras children officialy came into question.

her sisters reckless behaviour came to bite her in the rear, the spoiled firstborn finally was to get a taste of consequences. not only that, the petitions for driftmark would require the entire family be present,including jacerys. not that she cared, no.

the view of dragons and ships approaching kings landing was perfect from the princesses window. syrax and caraxes landed near the dock, soon the family ship followed. the rest of the way they made by carrige. the lack of reception for the heir and her husband was the princesses own idea. a small revenge.

she dared not venture to the courtyard for she knew her nephews would be there. waiting instead to face them officially in the throne room.

not many are privy to the red keeps secret passageways, she was one of the lucky few. in order to avoid the courtyard she followed one such secret hall to cut through the godswood and immedietly into the throne room.

fate, as stated before, is very humorous.walking through the godswood she was greeted by her most favourite guest, rhaenyra. as her sister stood in the courtyard, for the first time in her life the princess saw her for what she was, a scared mother, a woman who knew she had a mess of her own making to clean up. there was no need for approval from such a pathetic creature.

"sister" greeted the young princess. rhaenyra turned to face her. "ah, dear sister, how are you fairing ?" dear, wow the gaul

"i am...well, it is nice of you to ask, even if for the first time." the sarcasm did not go unnoticed by rhaenyra. "times change sweet sister, attitudes are as moveable as the tides, especially within family" the tone those words were spoken in dripped with false sweetness, if it were another day she would have lapped it up, not today. today, she understood they came not from a genuine place but from a need of support.

"when family comes into question, the tides of opportunity roar, i see" surprised by her sisters words, rhaenyra stepped closer.

"i fear the circumstances of our reunion, of my arrival, are unfortunate, that does not mean we need be hostile to eachother" the younger scoffed

"the only times we reunite are under unfortunate circumatsnces. last we spoke i cannot remember, i actually cannot recall a time you struck up a conversation with me. only now, concerned with your sons succesion, when you require my help, we speak"

rhaenyra was surprised, more surprised than shed been in her life. she thought her relationship with her sister was what it had to be, what was required, the rift between their family was much vaster than shed realised.

"i am sorry for any pain i have caused you, please, let us discuss this in a manner befiting of family, i promise i am not what these people have told you" she reached for her sisters hand, immedietly the younger pulled away.

"these people are my family, more my family than you have ever been. do not worry sister i would not concern you with anything beneath what befits you. we need only talk if it concerns the crown.please, do not pretend to care for me as family again, ypur idifference hurts but false concern is a pain i cannot manage" rhaenyra opened her mouth to speak but could not find the words.

"goodbye, dear sister. i look forward to hearing your petition." and with those words she left, fighting the urge to turn back and look at the face of the one who hurt her the most every step of the way.

jacaerys stepped off the carrige and into the ground of the red keep with a goal, to see his aunt again. he had grown into a capable and gracious young man in their time apart. she haunted his thoughts and steps toward adulthood in a way he could not describe. it was not love, he atleast did not think so, more like a strange hunger to see her again.

it scared him to think about. why was this longing so deeply rooted in his chest ?

with lucerys by his side they stepped forward into the familiar courtyard. immediently he gazed upon that same window he knew he may catch a glipse of her in. yet no one was there. it was silly to think someone would. why was his mind like this ?

lucerys must have noticed his wandering glances, nudging his side. "what ?" replied jacaerys. "are you ill brother ?". he had never spoken a word to anyone, not about that day in driftmark, the events of that night far too heavy to bring up,certainly not of his confusing feelings for the princess.

"im fine lucerys, are you feeling well ? it is a difficult day we have ahead of us, for you most of all" "im fine."

he was not fine, but it was best not to press on. lucerys had to deal with his emotions on his own,as did he.

the throne room had not changed since last he visited. he and his family stood on one side while the other slowly filled with hightowers and green supporters.

suddently, there she was.

the princess targaryen. her blueish green gown only exagerated her beautyful fratures, long silver hair shining, adorned by intricate braids and golden jewlery. she looked like she hung the sun in the sky. his eyes were trained on her form, not moving an inch, commiting every detail to memory, afraid shed disapear again and take the light with her. and then, against all odds, she returned his gaze.

it was like seeing the deep blue waves of the ocean again after years in the desert. jacerys vlaryon, in all his glory. looking back at her. she dared not tear her eyes away from his familiar brown ones. they stood there, surrounded by people yet alone locked in time.

eventually, otto hightower announced the start of the pettitions, and jacerys had to tear his gaze away. it was not a bad thing though, it allowed the princess to study his features more closely. despite his dark brown locks and eyes there was something uniquely targaryen about the boy, fair skin and aqualine valyrian nose betraying his heritage. he looked like the carbon of his mother. it scared her, it scared her because his resemblance did not deter her emotions at all, if anything it made her heart soften toward her sister. no man should hold such power over her.

the petitions went on and on but she heard few words far and in between,eyes focused on her nephew. periodicaly he returned her gaze studying her with equal intensity, alternating between commiting her to memory and comforting his brother.

for the fist time in her life she allowed herself to think of him in detail. she imagined how he would look speaking to her, hearing his voice, changed by the years, matured, deep, rich, manly. she though of his and when she tired she thought of them together. strolling through the gardens, flying on their dragons, sitting together... waking up next to him, walking the altar toward him.

and for the fist time it hit her.

all these years and yet her father had not changed his mind about the succesion once. not once did his resolve to put rhaenyra on the throne falter. aegon would never be king, helaena never queen, so long as the current kings will persevered. but it did not have to signal the end of her queenly ambition. jacaerys was rhaenyras firstborn, her first son and therefore heir. as far as the princess knew, he was unmarried and yet to be betrothed to anyone.

the window of opportunity so violently closed by otto on their was to driftmark suddently was wide open again. she could marry jacaerys and finally be queen, finally get what she wanted. ofcourse it would mean she would have to support her sister. every end had its means. so be it.

making up with her sister would be difficult, yet something about their conversation earlier told her it might not be impossible. the answer to her ambitions was infront of her all these years, jacaerys was the key.

euphoria filled her limbs making her mind hazy. floating on a bed of feathers, gears already turning in her mind paving the path that would lead her to jacarys. but good things never last.

princess rhaenys was speaking her peace when suddently

"the princess rhaenyra has informed me of her intentions to wed her son jacaerys and lucerys, to my granddaughters baela and rhaena, a proposad to which i wholeheartedly agree."

what. what. jacaerys and ... baela. she looked upon the ceiling of the throne room as if seeking the heavens, vying for the attention of the seven, whty did fate punish her so ?. ofcourse, why would she get what she wanted ?

she looked toward baela, a look of confidence and satisfaction gracing her features, eyes trained on jacaerys. she dared not look at him, she wanted not to know how he felt of this arrangement.

did he know ? had he agreed to it beforehand ? she could have sworn those looks he gave her earlier meant something. but this was now more than just her feeling toward him. this was about her gtting what she wanted, getting her throne.

jacaerys and baela ? no, that would not do. she was no longer that wide eyed girl, easily dettered by words of her elders, easily manipulated into complying with others wishes. one betrothal was torn away from her, not again. she would wed jacaerys she decited then and there, using any means necessary.

jacaerys heard his grandmothers words the same as his aunt. he was somewhat aware of their plans to betroth him to baela, but hearing them, actually hearing them, spoken in the presance of the king, it was another thing entirely.

he briefly looked to baela. she seemed very content with the arrangemend. the same could not be said about him. his aunt had been the sole person to hold his affections thus far. as much affection as a stranger across the bay could, atleast.

why was he so dissapointed ? was he even dissapointed ? did he really think there was any merrit to his feelings for the princess ? they shared one conversation all those years ago. whereas he and baela had a solid relatioship, a friendship, one that could be built upon. hed thought about the betrothal in the past, he could find some semblances of feeling in his heart for his cousin.

yet everytime hed thought of baela, another crossed his mind.

no, that would not do. his aunt was beautifull, yes, maybe it was just that, her beauty that bewitched him, the air of mystery around her. it was pointless to assign any meaning to it, he descited. he was a prince of the realm. he would preform his duty to baela and to his mother as best he could. childish fancy would have to be put to sleep.

a targaryen event without atleast one murder is considered a dull afair. thankfully they had daemon to provide entertainment.

the king had once again shamelessly supported his firstborn. for a rotting corpse, he sure was determined. the death of vaemond velarion signaled the end of the pettitions. lucerys would inherit driftmark along with his cousin rhaena.

rhaenyra would inherit the throne and in turn jacarys along with baela. not if she had a say.

with the first lord to step foot outside of the throne room her plan was set into motion. the alegiance between the blacks and the velaryons was strong, but not unbreakable. her sister was an honorable woman, a good mother, but a less than conscious politician. logic and aliances would not sway her, love however would.

the princess knew rhaenyra would reside in her chambers untill the family dinner planned for that night. a little snooping, more like a little talk with her ladies maid, told her daemon would join his old friends in the gold cloaks for the afternoon. after their talk, the princess and her handmaiden were to each take their leave. "oh, alia, i requre your help with one more thing" the maid turned "anything for you m'lady"

"i need you to place a rumor.."

with no warning, no knock, the young princess stepped into her sisters chambers. to say rhaenyra was surprised was an understatement.

"sister, what- what brings you here ?" the younger stepped further into the room. "i understand our talk earlier was not to your liking" she began, looking to her sisters eyes graced by an unreadable excpression.

"well, you made your wishes clear, i thought you would not wish to see me unless it was necessary. it gladens me you here though, please, take a seat" ever so polite. the sisters sat across from eachother on the chambers table, for the first time together of their own volition.

"do not misunderstand me, i would not have come here unless it was of the utmost urgency. as it stands matters of the crown plague me" rhaenyra looked concerned, what matters could the crown possibly have than were not directly concerning her ?

rhaenyra remained quiet, waiting to for the younger to show her hand before she revealed hers. "i heard today the proposal you offered princess rhaenys, to be frank, it is foolish." rhaenyra was yet to understand the road her sister was going down on, she remained quiet.

"keeping aliances strong is of upmost importance if you wish to secure your claim, however quality cannot completely trump quantity..."

"what are you saying, sister ?" sister finally,without the dear, bold. yet the younger remained quiet, pouring herself a cup of the wine placed upon the table. she was bold but her plan bolder, it required taming of the nerves. the longer the silence stretched on the uneasier the elder became.

"what do you want ?' asked rhaenyra finally.

"i want what you want, what we all want" rhaenyra understood finally.

"you wish to sit the iron throne then ? is it the reason behind your questioning my alliances ?" she grew irritated of the youngers antics, tired of the years being used soely for her birthright, her confusion twisting now into anger.

"you would think so, but no" she took a big swig of her wine "i want a family, my family, united. you saw the lords today, you saw my grandsire. you may think fathers support is sufficient, but he will to be around for long. there will come a time, sooner than latter, when you will be without your biggest ally, and the house of the dragon will be torn apart once and for all"

rhaenyra shook her head "i am the rightfull heir, the lords of the realm know who they swore an oath to. i have no need of you false concern."

"attitides are as moveable as the tides, the lords will rally behind whomever they believe benefits them most, oaths be damned. our family will be in shambles, you must prevent that, we must prevent that" she moved now, a mix of wine and sudden confidence moving her legs from her initial seat to the one next to her sister.

"wed me to jacaerys" rhaenyras confusion returned. she poured herself a cup and downed it in one go. "and why would i do that ? your void threats ?" "i can support you and your efforts best. rhaenyra looked toward the fireplace, turning her body opposite of her sisters. "moonfyre is a formidable dragon, and my mother may yet be swayed if we work together"

"i tried once, to ally myself with the green counsil, they refused. besides , it will be an insult to the house velaryon, an insult to my daughter."

"i am not the green counsil, i am your sister." mirroring rhaenyras earlier movements in the godswood, she took her sisters hands into hers. only unlike earlier, her sister did not move. "i know you have cast me aside, since i first came into the world. yet as a girl i wished every night with every prayer for you to see me, finally see me." rhaenyras eyes as if possesed found her own. an understanding started to bloom.

"i have longed to be by both you and jacaerys from afar all these years, let us not be enemies, do justice by our targaryen name. if not for an aliance for all you feel toward me as you sister. i have thought of everything, you need only say yes."

rhanyra ture her gaze and hands away once again, pouring them both another cup of wine, hoping her eyes would not betray her inner conflict. the sisters took their respective cups, drinking in silence.

"i knew not of these.. feelings you describe and for that im sorry." rhaenyra dared speak up. "i cannot give you the yes you seek but if truly your plans are as solid as you describe them, i have no way of stopping you" not a victory but not a defeat. "thank you, dear sister"

rumors have a way of spreading in the red keep. a phenomenon unlike any other. you could take your carridge for a visit to the great sept a maiden and return a whore. what a sinnfull and dishonorable thing. but what a usefull one to those who know to utilise it.

the queen alicent was enjoying a quiet evening after the very eventfull petitions. helaena on her left, embroidering a spider on one of the childrens tunics, said children on the floor playing with their toys, and her, reading "seven histories of seven prayers" all was at peace.

alicent finished her book and made a moved to acqure another, the library was near, she could go and be back in less than a feather sweep. excusing herself from the company of her family, she moved to do just that. the halls of the keep were never to the queens liking, much prefering those of her home, alas she navigated them, low sound of chatter radiating off of each room. gossiping was a sin, one the queen refused to indulge in but the day had other plans.

passing through her eldest daughters chambers she caught wind of words that shocked her. cautiously she moved closer to the door, hoping her ears were playing tricks.

"i mean can you believe it ? what a sandal, our princess and rhaenyras son ? oh the insult" said one of her daughters ladysmaids "alia, i am yet to understand, how could our lady fraternise with that family, they have not seen them in years" replied another "im not saying now, maya, back then, at driftmark"

"i heard it was the reason for the princes fight, prince aemond attacked jacarys for dishonoring his sister, thats how he lost his eye" replied another.

"and what of todays betrothal ? the queen would never allow such dishonor befall her daughter" "thats the fun part maya, the queen knows none of it, as for the princess baela, she has recently received proposals from the north, house tully and house stark, however, princess rhaenyra forced her hand to prevent herself allying with the greens" replied the voice of alia.

"i believe none of it, how could you come upon such information ?"replied the unnamed voice again "the cook, told me he overheard an exchange between the young prince and his betrothed.."

the queen stepped back, her breathing laboured. they were way off mark for driftmark, that was certain. but what if there was truth behind their words ? it would not be unheard of. most rumors around the keep stemmed from some truth

still, the queen had faith in her daughter. aegon was a rake, sure, but he inherited all of the rebelion in the woumb, her daughter was as pure as freshly fallen snow. seeking lord larys council would be an option but the queen feared what he would ask for in return. no. she was no fool, she would seek for herself the truth.

the dinner was an idiotic idea. alas, the head that defies the king does not stay attatched to its body for long. the young princess sat at the head of the table along with aemond, already nursing her third cup of wine. it burned going down but not more than her mothers gaze did. she knew.

her mothers gaze threatened to melt her face off but it was not what hurt most. jacaerys and baela sat next to eachother, exchanging laughs and pleasantries. if the wine did not cause her to vomit, they would. just a little bit longer, a little more patience, she would get jacaerys and the throne and baela the door.

the night went on oddly calmly. until the speeches began.

king viserrys took the lead. "we have a cause of celebration it seems. jace and luke will be married to their cousins,baela and rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses"

if the princesses eyes rolled any further back into her head she would see her brain. she looked to jacaerys, his eyes on her, only to immedietly be torn away once she looked back.

the king continued with his heartfelt speech, somewhere among the words of uniting the house of the dragon, rhaenyra and her sister locked eyes, the understanding between them having bloomed into a garden. her fathers worlds were certainly the missing piece to convincing rhaenyra of the betrothal.

rhaenyra took her turn followed by alicent, heartfelt words betraying the affections the two still shared. jacaerys was next. despite him talking about aegon and aemond his eyes fell on her periodically, never too long though. as if looking at her too long would turn him to stone. his fear was evident, but was it brought about by alicents menacing stare, or .... his own emotions ?

it was better not to mangle matters of the heart with those of the crown, she had to remind herself, despite her chest thumping with every glance. helaena gave her speech, toasting the happy couple yet again. her words on marrige brought about a sense of uneasines to everyone. rhaena, bless her heart, made an attempt to mend the situation "it leaves you, cousin. have you any suitors ?".

rhaenyra tensed, alicent even more so but most of all jacaerys. his stiffness caused baelas concern, who nudged him lightly. her movement laboured no reaction from the prince, she turned instead to find the object of his gaze, none other than his aunt.

"n-no, not of yet im afraid..." she gave her best semblance of a calm reply. rhaenyra, feeling bad and still mindfull of their earlier conversations, took the liberty of replying "it is best not to worry about these things, you may yet find your affection in unlikely places"

alicent gave a blank stare, she moved her mouth to speak but was interrupted, by none other than daemon. "best not to wait though, my dear, a young lady may fall to her charms only for so long..." his words earned him hateful looks and one of firm diaproval from his wife. his eyes however, gleamed playfully, ever the provocatour. daemon knew.

she could not hold back her emotions if she wanted. opting to give a small, sad smile, for an answer would surely betray her tears. she looked to jacaerys. this time his eyes unapologeticaly on her, looking to her form with raw pitty. helaena took her hand and aemond gave her a small pat on the arm. alicents anger was on the brink of overflowing.

before the queens wrath could be unleashed upon demon, the king groaned in pain, immedietly he was escorted away by the guards. the family was left in shambles, once again. yet the evening was far from over. rhaenyra ordered for music to be played, more courses arriving at the table. the princess cared for none of it, the plan was working, yet daemons words stung all the same.

a hand appeared next to her, asking to dance. looking up to find the owner, she found none other than jacaerys velaryon. she stood up quickly, ignoring her mothers gaze, taking it into hers.

the unwanted child of house targaryen, she was unused to being shown attention, most of all the sole attention of her beloved. a familiar melody sounded in the backround, years of observing others on the dancefloor yet never joining left her entirely unprepared for the dance that was to come. jacaerys noticed her nerves.

"do you know the stepps ?" she shook her head no. the reaction brought a smile to his face, genuine and warm. "not to worry, it is not a difficult one, you only need a capable lead"

arriving finally to the dancefloor, the music picked up. jacaerys hands led her to stand infront of him. since he noticed her uneasined, his eyes had not left hers once.

he began the dance, jumping left and right, she soon joined his pace. it felt like ascending the skies on her dragon for the first time, each little jump leading her further and furhter away from the ground, away from the drama of her house and into the heavens.

his pace changed, stepping forth to take her hand into his. the toutch was electrifying, gentle yet firm, he brought their joined hands to eye level, gaze forever steady on her form, like the eternal rocks beneath the tumoltous sea, somewhat grounding her. they began to turn around eachother. slowly at first, he began to hasten his turns, having now to hold on tighter, keeping eachother in orbit.

jace took a step back moving their joint limbs above her head, intending to spin her around herself, his other hand gently on her waist, as to keep her steady. the wine was taking effect for before she could turn to face him again she stumbled, slightly falling forward, straight into his arms.

he did not let her fall however, the hand on her waist immedietly snaking around her fully, the one above her head going to hold the side of her face, preventing it from coliding with his. by the time she gained her balance, the position between them was highly innapropriate. the warmth of his hand on her cheeck made all skin receptors go haywire. his lips had slightly parted and she could feel his breath on her own, if she leaned a little forward she could even....

"THAT IS ENOUGH !" queen alicents booming voice sounded. their moment of tenderness so rudely interrupted, the princess pulled away from her nephew, he complied, taking a half-step back, his hand previously on her waist however moved to hold hers once again.

" do you take me for a fool ? sharing words of support and love to my family, while your son has corrupted my sweet daughter, laughing now in our faces, i will have it no longer !"

everyone was shocked, rhaenyra held onto her husband, who moved to stand up, aegon and aemond shared a look equal parts amusement and comradery, while rhaena and lucerys held hands. the only one to keep his composure was the queens father. ooto knew. baelas legs were bouncing up and down furiously. everyone was in dissaray.

"what are you implying your grace ?"sounded daemon full of rage and malice. "i am implying nothing i am up and stating it since your family is playing the fool. your son has corrupted my daughter tainted her virtue and has now come to flaunt his debauchery infront of everyone! " jacaerys remained quiet, his hand unmoving.

like fish to bait, the princess thought. she anticipated the queens reaction, what surprised her was how public it was. a new variable. no matter, she had come this far, no way in the seven hells would she quit now. her eyes searched for and found rhaenyras, her beautifull face painted one sentance, i hope you know what youre doing.

"daughter, please regain your composure." otto attempted to calm his queens nerves. one public outburst escaping the family was bad, two would be ruinous. rhaenyras eyes remained locked with her sisters, the two communicating simply from eye contact. the younger sent a pleading look. not wishing to anihilate the little pieces of reconciliation the dinner had acheived, the heir sprung into action.

"please, your grace, it has been an eventfull evening, let us not end the night in animosity. the hour is late, we ought to all retire and discuss this with the light of the new day." daemon went to express his rage his atempted outburst swiftly sqashed by rhaenyra holding his arm. lucerys and rhaena immedietly stood up, followed by helaena, exiting at once, not wishing to partake in the conflict.

alicent attempted to voice her dissagreement, rage and adrenaline pulsing in her veins, but could not, the hand of her sworn shield along with her fathers stern gaze bringing her to reality.

aemond stood, approaching the still-frozen couple. his imposing frame cornered that of jacaerys "carefull nephew, should i find any truth to these accusations, i will ensure you pay the price this time" and with that, he pulled his sister away. she turned to look to her beloved, for the final time time of the evening, their eyes locked, a silent promise to speak again.

the events of the night were all blurry in the young princes head. whithin less than a day he reunited with his aunt, was btrothed to baela, descited to put aside his feelings for his aunt, witnessed a beheading, had his feelings for his aunt reignited and was now accused of deflowering her.

after she was so rudely torn away from him, the prince was faced with the fury of his betrothed. baelas face twisted in a way he had only previously seen on daemon, it petrified him. "is it true ?" asked the girl. "what ? i dont-"

"it is a simple question jacaerys, are alicents words true ?" "ofcourse not ! i would never do such a thing" tension was rising with each exchange of words "what was this buisness today then ?" "the princess fell, what was i to do ? allow her to fall ?"

"she is the enemy jace, you cannot trust these people" the words coming out of baelas mouth filled him with rage never before experienced "the enemy ? are you being serious ? you know nothing about the princess-" "neither do you."

they were almost yelling, daemon started to advance toward them. afraid of his stepfather he attempted to deescelate the situation."i do apologise for any discomfort i have caused you, baela, but i will not stand to hear such nonsense."

baela scoffed "if you are unable to see past the intentions of those who only mean to use you, i hold in my heart not discomfort but pity for you, my prince. goodnight. " and with that, she exited. by this time deamon hat taken the place of his daughter "come, we have much to discuss" looking behind him one final time to see his mother and queen alicent speaking quietly, he followed his stepfather.

they walked the halls of the keep solemnly, daemons calm demeanor betrayed none of his emotions, it only irritated jacaerys more and more as time went on. each torturous step made his mind race, from the dance to the fight to the princess to her hands to his betrothed to daemon to his aunt again, her lips, her smile, her body against his... it all was far too overwhelming.

the salvation from his torture came with their arival at his chambers. "come" daemon instructed, oppening the door, he could only follow instructions with the reverance of a septon executing the gods will, afraid of arousing his uncles rage. "sit" he sat, his uncle soon occupying the chair next to him.

"so, did you do it ?"

if one more person asked him that question jace swore he would throw himself from the tallest window of the keep. "no, i would never" daemon chuckled. "tis alright boy, the flame of youth roars with unparalleled passion, in this family especially, i would not have blamed you if you had." jace swallowed, a weight lifted from his chest.

"alas what i believe matters not, only what the queen does and as it stands, she thinks you deflowered her most favourite daughter. how do you plan to answer these accusations ?"

"i.....i do not know. i would not go back on my promise to baela sir. i swear it" daemons hand reached his sons shoulder. "i know. worry not about baela. we must understand what possesed the greens to spread such a rumor, they are coming for your inheritance boy, the same as your mothers."

heavens give me strength, the young prince thought. "with all due respect, you know nothing of who spread such a rumor. the princess would never soil her reputation in such a way. "

"damn right she would not, the princess is far from cunning enough" jacaeys hands turned to fists "it is certainly the work of her grandsire" he had had enough. "you only see the events of today as an excuse to express your violence"

"such are the tactics of war. we can not be seen as weak at this time, jace. they mean to take yours and your mothers birthright, to start the war and tear our forces apart-"

"i see finally, you care not for me nor baela, only for supporting the efforts of a war yet to materialise, if it even is to materialise. you only seek glory for yourself- " "myself ?" daemon interrupted "all i do, i do in support of you and your mother"

"then allow us to counsil my mother before you jump straight to actions which might soil her name" daemon gave no answer. his wife was his weakness, jacaerys knew it very well. and though he was prone to brash violet actions, he did so in servitude of his family.

daemon stood up sudently, still not having said a word. the young prince knew he had not quelled his bloodlust but the seeds of doubt planted in his mind would keep him occupied long enough. and so daemon exited.

before jacaerys was allowed a moment of respite, not a few seconds after his fathers exit, the painting near his window opened from behind.

emerging from the shadows, none other than the princess. jacaerys was left speechless, the night kept becoming stranger and stranger. "what-the...what, h-how did you get here ?" he chocked out.

"i found a sort of map of the red keeps passageways when i was young. one of them leads from my chambers to these" replied the princess shyly. "have i disturbed you....i should leave, my apologies-"

"no !" exclaimed jacaerys. the day had taken a toll on him, daemon and baelas words giving him a lot to proces. one thing had not changed though, he still longed to see her.

turning around from her attempt to exit, the princesses face became illuminated by the candelight showcasing her hopefull expression. a beat of silence pased, neither one of them knowing how to approach the other. the princess stepped forward, fully entering the room.

he could now see her dress in detail, a pure white nightgown, flowing gently, encasing her form. she looked like an angel sent from the heavens.

"my mother is very protective of me, you must excuse her earlier actions, she only meant to do good. i-i came to apologise for what went down at dinner" by now she was standing but a step away from him. the prince remained frozen, afraid if he let his body move, he would no longer remain a gentleman.

his silence caused the princesses face to fall slightly a disapointed expression threatening to take over, the same one from earlier that night. he wished not to ever see her that way ever again "is that all you came here to do ?" he spoke up at last.

a small smile played at the side of her mouth "if i may excpress myself freely, my lord ?" the pang of excpectancy in his chest rattled his body "jace, and please do."

"jace" she began, the familiarity of the petname causing him to grow bolder. "i must say, though these rumours are heinous i- i was ashamed not of my soiled reputation, but for the fact they included you" the woman infront of him was a witch, jace descited, she was bewitching him with every word from her soft lips, and he was oh so willing to fall for her spell.

"truth be told i have not forgotten of the time we shared at driftmark, it may seem silly but since that day, i have longed to see you again."she continued "i know not of love ...or lust but these feelings lay in my chest for so long i fear they may drown me"

her eyes looked to his through her lashes, longing, excpecting. once again he was left without words. "jace ? you instructed me to speak freely, have i made you uncomfortable ?" her hand flew forward from her side, softly brushing his knuckles, sending chills to his body, threatening to take his hand into her own but hesitating.

"are, are you cross at me because of the rumors ?" the last bits of his composure were starting to crumble, egged on by both her words and feathelike toutches.

"i could never. i would never hold over you something you have no control over" he replied, unable to take her teasing toutches any longer, taking his hand away in favour of toutching her elbow bringing her closer, so much closer, her other hand flew to toutch his chest.

mirroring his actions at the diner, he placed his hand upon her cheek. "oh, im so glad" she said in a breathless whisper.

"you had no play in spreading the rumors, yes ?" her mouth oppened and closed, eyes and body growing uneasy "y-yes, how could i do something like that ? to you of all people" jace sucked in a hurried breath, cursing himself for almost ruining the moment.

he brought her closer, hand moving once again from elbow to back, possesive and supportive. his thumb began to caress her cheek, seeking retribution for his previous words. "ofcourse, ofcourse, you spilled your heart to me and i have gone and accused you."

"no, i understand." their faces were now only centimeters away, heavy breaths in tandem with eachother "there are many forces at play intending to keep us apart" jace continued. the words of daemon now but a whisper in his head, caution having flown from the window the moment she toutched him.

"do you give them any thought ?"

"i could not if i wanted to. you say you have longed for me since driftmark, my longing dates even further back. this force is pulling me toward you like the morning pulls the sun from its hiding and i fear if you were to be taken from me now, i would never see the light again"

and with that the water tipped over, his lips clashed against her. all the emotions pent up over the years releasing in a dance of mouths and tongue. her hands flew to his his hair, trying to express all of the things words could not.

slowly the princes pushed her leg between his, casuing him to step back, slowly tracing a path toward the bed. when he felt the foot of the bed on the back of his knees, he did not hesitate, hands snaking to her thigh, he lifted her slightly and fell back, ever so carefull to not hurt her or to break the kiss.

her nightgown did little to hide her form, now slowly falling off her shoulder, exposing her chest. his mouth left hers for the first time, only to trace a path down her neck. her hands pushing his face further into her, hungry for more.

his hands on her thighs moved further and further up, skirts riding up with them. her core now bare on his trousers, right where he needed her most, soft skin brushing up against hard fabric, sending pleasured pulses to both her bodies.

she started moving her hips shyly back and forth, head falling back, the mewls escaping her lips music to his ears. by now the arousal in his pants was evident, the friction from her movements doing little to aleviate his tension.

desperation was fogging his mind, movements going from passinate to hungry. sloppy open-mouthed kisses on her neck moving lower and lower, a silent prayer of devotion on her breast, all he could think hear and feel was her.

lost in eachother and the new sensations, they hearn naught og the comotion outside the rooms door.

without warning rhaenyra acompanied by the queen entered the room. the lovers were caught, once and for all, now bound together by duty. alicent began her scolding, rhaenyra agreeing with her and joining. jacaerys took no time in taking a protective stance, shielding the princesses face in his shoulder, raising her nightgown back on her shoulder, trying to maintain whatever semblance of was left to her name.

the princess awoke, in her own chambers sadly, the events of last night still ringing in her head. she could still feel the heat of jaces body on her face, waist and lower... she knew she ought to be ashamed, to order a carridge to the sept straight away and beg on her knees for forgiveness. yet she found no desire to do do.

satifaction filled her lungs with every breath. after alicent and rhaenyra had caught them, jace was dragged away by his mother, yet he accepted the consequences with a stiff lip and an air of pride. alicent still was clinging to her daughters innocence, refusing to accept the situation as anything but her poor daughter being manipulated.

when aemond heard of the news he attemptet to take some form of retribution, going as far as to propose a duel with jace in her honor. aegon had never looked so amused in his life, he only congradulated his twin saying "atleast you sampled the mount before you commited". her grandsire was, once again, the most composed figure of the evening, out of satisfaction of securing his blood on the throne, she thought. helaena had yet to learn of anything.

they had barely goten any sleep, counseling all night in search of an answer to the situation. only one was viable. after the green and black council debated, a clear course of action was set.

given the fact there was no chance of the princess being with child, they would release a statement announcing the betrothal of the crown prince jacaerys to the secondborn daughter of the king, reuniting the realm stated as the reason. the date of the wedding would be set in thee moons time, as not to arouse any suspicion. as for princess baela, negotiations for herbetrothal to lord cregan stark were already underway.

she walked to her vanity, lazily brushing her hair. the smile on the woman in the mirror looking back at her she had not seen in years. each movement of her wrist was excecuted with queenly grace. life had meaning once again.

she stayed there a while, pampering herself for she was a victor, when a certain tapestry on her wall came out of place.

in stepped none other than jacaerys velaryon. jace. her jace. her future husband.

"jace" she said, standing up. "you look... satisfied" began the prince, all shyness from the night before gone. "should i not be ?" teased she. jace remained silent, somewhat sullen, looking to her form, the morning light revealing to him just how transparent her nightgown was.

"i spoke with my mother last night, she revealed to me some new information" the princess tensed, afraid she was caught in her lies, afraid all of her effort was for naught. his composure as he advanced toward her did nothing to sooth her nerves. he began to circle her form, patiently awaiting an answer. "wh-what would that be, my prince ?"

he stopped behind her. was it the formality of the title that caused his pause ? or was it anger ? "she said, you wenr to her yesterday to plead your case for our betrothal. she said you almost begged, to be perscise"

he had not corrected her calling him her prince, leading her to the natural conclusion he was angry. "i-i apologise for not making you aware of such a fact last night. i hadnt the time to you see..." she craned her face back to look at him. begging with her eyes for some sort of reaction.

he looked down to her, something dark behind his brown eyes. "how do you explain such an action ?" he said, voice low and grainy.

there was little room of escape. she had to play her hand just right. "as i said, i hadnt the time to fully explain myself to you. it is true, i looked to rhaenyra to ask for your hand and.... the rumors were really not the reason but the excuse for my actions. i meant to... approach you, from before" he remained silent.

she made an attemt to turn around and face him, only to be prevented by his pressing himself to her back. "baela is of the oppinion wish to use me. both her and daemon said you mean to steal my mothers throne, to take from me what you want only to betray me. tell me it is not true." finally his true colors came to light. the darkness in his eyes was not born of malice but of desperation, of fear.

"please, you most not misunderstand my actions, i only meant to be with you, i have not lied, i woud never. my family knew nothing of it. i understand how this must come across but please, believe me, you must." her joice unashamedly betrayed her desperation to please him, he remained silent still only holding onto her tighter.

"what must i do to make you believe me ? i will beg on my knees if it please you just trust me..." his body relaxed just slightly, hands remaining on her stomach, clinging to her dress. he gave a long exhale.

"i believe you" it was her turn to sigh, runing her hands on his arms tracing lines over his toned forearms. "i believe, you are a cunning spider, who pounced on the opportunity to claim me for yourself." his hand ascended her stomach reaching the space just under her chest, playing with the ribbon tying adorning her gown. "i also believe your intelect to be so infatuating i cannot help but want you more..."

he pulled the end of the ribbon, her dres becoming looser. "tell the truth, did you stop to consider the possible consequences of your reckless actions once ?" his hand went higher, unbuttoning the top of her dress, torturously slow.

"i only thought of you, every step of the way." he continued his pursuit of unbuttoning her gown. "does this mean you accept my apology ?"

"yes my darling, you need beg no longer... besides, i would much prefer to see you on your knees for other purposes" with that, he spun her around, putting their lips together once again. only this time the kiss was less passionate and more possesive. they knew they were bound together forever.

her gown was barely hanging onto her body, jace shruged the sleeves off her shoulders, the gown pooling on her feet. he took a step back, breaking the kiss to look at her. look at her whole. he drank in the sight of her body like the sweetest of wines. "perfect" he muttered under his breath, but before the princess had a chance to reply, he took her into his arms, mouths clashing once again.

effortlessly he carried her to the bed, gently placing her head on the pillows, climbing on soon after. her hands reached to toutch his chest, tugging on his tunic, begging to have it removed. he complied, hastily unbuttoning it. the morning light illuminated his porcelain skin, showcasing his toned arms and chest.

his mouth descended upon her, continuing his previous actions. one leg on her side, the other nudged her legs apart, knee pressing onto her core. she moaned upon the contact earning a chuckle from jace. "you, are magnificent" he said innetween kisses. "my cunning girl"

the fabric on his knee got wetter by the second, dampness reaching the skin underneath. his hand traced a path from her side down to her navel, to her pelvis, finally to where she needed him most. he began his ministrations on her pearl, tracing slow circles, each one sending waves of ecstasy along her body, they reached her throat leading her to release a pleasured moan. "please keep quiet darling, i would hate to be interrupted yet again"

his fingers on her core went lower, seperating her slit, pressing onto her. "wh-what-" she whispered, trying desperately to hold back her moans "shhh, worry not my dear, i only mean to please"

"all i do, i do to please you, my love" with that his fingers penetrated her. sensing her incoming moan, jaces hand flew to her mouth, muffling her sounds, only for him to hear. his fingers began to move, setting a slow rythm, allowing her to get used to the foreign sensation.

it was as if he had studied her body for years, the reverance with which he treated her left a burning sensation in both her heart and core. he continued, slowly picking up his pace, settling into a new rythm, his thumb took to restarting the ministrations on her pearl. she felt a knot forming in her stomach, tesion on her chest becoming more and more and more...untill she felt she could go on no longer.

"j-jace..." she chocked out, "i know, i know darling..." he placed a tender kiss upon her forhead, "let go, its ok..." with that, the tension in her stomach exploded, pleasure enveloping her body, settling into her limbs. "thats my girl.."

how long she spent lost in the throws of ecstasy, she knew not, a fog of pleasure clouding her mind, leaving her to think only of jace. once she started to come out of it a bit, he slowly removed his fingers, earning him a whine at the loss of contact. he only chuckled.

she went to remove her lovers trousers but he prevented her movements, taking her hands and giving each of them a kiss instead.

"allow us to keep something to look forward to on the wedding night." he said, positioning himself next to her on the bed, placing her head to his chest, playing with her long silver hair. they stayed like that a while, simply enjoying the company of one another.

the princess spoke up, "what is on you your mind, my prince ?" he made an insulted face, placing a hand of his heart " do not call me that again, lest you want me to be cross with you." she chuckled, her happiness causing his heart to swell with pride, he was the reason behind her laugh "i am simply admiring my future wife"

she raised her torso to kiss him again, all soppy and sweet. "i do have one last question to ask." she fully raised her body, legs across his lap and head neeling on his shoulder. "please do, future husband"

"last i spoke with daemon, he was ready to go to war in the name of preventing our betrothal. yet this morning, he was all smiles and agreement, i know it was not the efforts of my mother alone. what did you do ?"

"i fear if i answer that, you may turn to cast me aside" she said, begining to leave little kisses and kitten licks onto his neck. he took her jaw into his hand, seperating it from his neck, moving her to look into his eyes "we are in this together now, fully, my love. i wish to know of my wifes nature for i know i will come to love it, i already have."

"well, if you insist... my ladys maid worked under the lord stark, her father is a steward, tasked with writting many of his lords official letters. she learned to writte in her fathers handwritting and well... a certain letter arrived, late last night, detailing the request of the lady baelas hand for his son cregan"

jacaerys gave a hearty laugh " and it really took affect ?"

"ofcourse it did. the lord of winterfell will not question the crowns words, they know better than to refuse an alliance with our house. by the time the source of the betrothal comes into question, we will be on our honeymoon and alia settled with her own lover in braavos"

she looked to his eyes attempting to find any disgust, anything that would show her she was unwanted by him aswell, yet jace only looked to her with love and admiration. "you truly are a marvel, my spider" he kissed her forhead one again, then her brow, her nose, finally her lips.

"i hate to be taken away from you, however...." he began, tearing his body from hers, seeking his discarded tunic. "we have a scheduled, promenade soon. your mother is taking all the steps necessary in making us look like a prim and proper couple" he began puting his tunic back on, the sight of his back muscles flexing giving the princess another rush of arousal.

she chuckled and changed her possition on the bed, stretching her body, intending to entice her lover back into joining her. he turned around to face her once last time, the heavenly sight of her bare body making him question just how important appearances actually were. "do not play games with me girl, i should hate to disapoint the queen again"

"i said nothing..."she teased. "you neednt say anything. one day you will be queen and you may torture our children in such a way, or any way you see fit" he added. she smiled so wide it illuminated every corner of the room. "whatever you say, my king" he looked back once again, on his attempt to exit.

"treasonous girl. goodbye, my queen"

#hotd #house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #team black #jace x reader #jace x you #house targaryen #baela targaryen #alicent hightower #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n

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corporalswhore · 2 years ago

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controversial opinion — i don’t like the fwb trope i’m sorry IDK WHY

#DONT CANCEL ME #I HAVE A TSUKII FWB FIC IN MY DRAFTS #IK IM A HYPOCRITE SHHHH #i just get the ick when they’re fucking but there’s no LOVE IM SORRY IM A SAP #i have daddy issues i need to feel loved im sorry #tmi idc #anyways #i still appreciate every fwb fic writers out there bc u all are stronger than me #god bless i’ve read some amazing fics w the trope #but it’s just not my cup of tea #so yeah #carina speaks <3

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konpeitonom · 3 months ago

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I was wondering if I could ask for some fluffy (+ nsfw if youre comfortable) headcanons about recovered/rescued curly x reader? I’ve seen very few fics about him and I’m so madly in love with him (particularly how ladonb.kokosa on tiktok draws him).

I think Curly would feel guilty about dating and sex because of his disabilities, inaction, and trauma but the reader is still head over heels for him anyway ❤️‍🩹

recovered/rescued captain grant curly headcanons.

sfw/nsfw — lowercase intended ^_^

g/n reader - no pronouns mentioned

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; i daydream about this exact curly too!! oh god i love this artist.. writing this in the perspective of you were his spouse previously. let me know if you’d like it if you met him afterwards :)

these r also a bit short so maybe a part 2 if i’m up for it/anyone else would want it. not proofread i never will sorry. this is my 3rd post today i am insane and happy to write!

.. nsfw section is written from the perspective of me, a girl, so sorry men if you cannot relate or feels it doesn’t apply to you too much. i try my best as a non-writer haha. minors don’t read that part thank you please…

here he is in his late forties - early fifties.

SFW

— he feels an intense amount of emotions knowing you waited as long as you did for him— that in those 15-20 years he was gone you didn’t move on *at all?*.. to come back in the state he was in, he felt a lot of guilt.

— he feels even more guilt when you saw him in said state, and still stayed with him throughout the multiple surgeries and months in the hospital.

— that smile of yours always cheered him up. and your reassurance was most comforting. he was lucky to have you as you are lucky to have him.

— curly felt as if he’d have to overcompensate for lost time. he’d plan dates, give you flowers, gift you chocolates or candies you liked. small things like that. he did it often pre-crash but he now does it enough to where it’s still a little special when he does.

— it would take him a long time to tell you what happened, truly. for legal reasons i’d assume he’d have to tell government officials, the media, or some kind of authority what had happened — but the details of it, id take a lot of time for him to speak about. he’d have to speak to a therapist about it first.

— when it came to his inaction, that and the immense survivors guilt he likely holds, he would be scared you’d leave. he’d be upset if you tried to justify his actions too. he knows what he did was wrong. and he doesn’t need you or anyone to tell him otherwise.

— i’m sure curly would donate a lot of the money he receives from media attention, that or encourage people to donate to charities that focus on gender based violence or sexual assault victims. he feels owed too. it’s the very least he could do now.

— back to his relationship with you.. sometimes all he wants is you. sometimes all he wants is to cry in bed as you’re there with him. your mere presence, all of you, is a huge comfort for him.

— he loves that you’re still your happy, old self. and he understands, he’d probably be happy too if someone you thought was dead just came back.

— if i recall correctly, he was in that state for 5 months? most of the time, if anya wasn’t there replacing his bandages or nursing him- he was most likely alone. he doesn’t like the thought of that. and therefore doesn’t want to ever be alone again.

— if you’d allow him, he wants to feel you all over. not in a sexual way. he wants to touch your arms, your fingers, your neck, your cheeks, your face. the feeling of you in his arms feels like gods blessing im sure.

— he’d ask about you. he’s so excited too. he wants updates to your life, your family. what do you like to do now? what’s changed since? do you still like this and that?

— he feels upset that he missed out on those parts of your life, but at the same time he knows that you probably kept him in his heart all those times without him.

— help him get back into his old hobbies!! keep him physically active. update him on all the video games he’s missed, all the movies he’s missed. movie days are probably his favorites. keep him busy.

NSFW

minors do not read

— i believe a strap-on device has to be used, or toys. he is open to all, but he’d enjoy using his hands to please you. it feels more intimate and close. he loves nothing more than touching you— in any way.

— he is old, ok. he lacks stamina, 1 round is enough for him- as long as it’s enough for you. but he is very experienced.

— hand holder!! he loves to hold your hand during sex.. this is canon. i am wrongorgan. he’d rub your palms as you shake, asking “is this okay? does that feel good?” .. please reassure him he thinks it’s the sexiest thing ever.

— uses your facial expressions to reassure himself. he thinks it’s cute when you bite your tongue to suppress your moans. or when your face is all flushed and sweaty. that means hes doing a good job.

— eye contact.. please make eye contact with him. he does struggle a bit with loving himself (especially assuming this is a 1-3 years after he was rescued), but as long as you love him then he shouldn’t have reason to worry.

— loves it when you place your hands on his face, caress his jawline as he fucks you slowly. i think he also likes it when your hands scratch his back. again, it tells him he’s doing a good job.

— i think it’s obvious with the way i write him but he loves talking during sex. i mean, he likes incoherent noises too- just as much as he does talking. but your words mean so much to him. and there’s just so much he wants to say.

— like.. “god, you’re so cute. have you always been like this, sweetheart?” !! he is a gentleman, ok?

— he still prefers a dominant role. he is a service top if i’ve ever seen one. even before the crash, sex is all about you, you, you, then maybe him.

— for the first few times he would be extremely careful and gentle. intimacy is not something he likes to rush. after he gets a bit more comfortable he’d be open to exploring again. like you did as younger adults, but still. he’s old and you’re probably old too ^.^

— feels like he has to make up for all the times you were probably lonely, sexually, the time he was missing.

#curly x reader #mouthwashing x reader #captain curly #mouthwashing #captain curly x reader #mouthwashing fic #curly headcanons #curly grant x reader #grant curly x reader #mouthwashing game #curly fluff #post crash curly #post crash curly x reader #nomnompyon

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buckysfaveplum · 3 months ago

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invisible string

summary: with the Emergence looming, the Eternals reunite; only Druig knows where you are, but he hasn’t seen you in two centuries, and maybe you like it that way

pairing: druig x eternal! female reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: mentions of war, violence, druig’s use of mind control on reader, that’s all i think? idk

a/n: sooo i don’t think anyone reads druig fics anymore buttt i rewatched Eternals and liked it soo much more on rewatch and im obsessed with druig again so yeaaa i hope yall give it a chance? luv ya ;)

masterlist | send requests

575 BC - Babylon

Your legs laid out peacefully across the lapaz stone you rested on. Soft chatter filled your ears as village girls twisted your hair into soft braids, weaving bright orange and white flowers in. Your hands fidgeted in your lap as you sat patiently for the young humans. You didn’t mind, every second you spent with them was precious, especially the children.

The girls wrapped the end of your hair, pulling it forward to show you their work. You smiled softly at the youngblood, admiring their fragile work. The humans never ceased to amaze you.

“Il likrubk,” you said sweetly. May the Gods bless you.

As you admired the braid, you began to hear excited yet secretive giggles from the girls circling you. Looking up, you saw the girls chuckling at each other yet trying to hide it from you. You shifted your gaze from them to look to your side, seeing Druig walking over. When you looked back, the girls ran off, leaving a trail of laughter and flowers in their wake. You just smiled smugly to yourself.

“My, my they did a beautiful job on you,” Druig’s voice was intoxicating, it always was to you. Slick and sly, always with a bit of wit and mystery; dripping with a hidden intention only he knew.

“Do the flowers suit me?” you asked.

“Everything suits you, my radiant Y/N,” he said. You ducked your head, desperate to hide the blush blossoming across your cheeks.

He crouched beside you, resting beside you with his charcoal cape flowing across the stone ledge. From the peripheral view of your gaze at the city below, you could see him eyeing you up and down. His eyes were hungry with desire and adoration. His head tilted as he smirked, leaning in and giving you a soft nudge with his shoulder.

“We should get going, back to the Domo. I think Ajak wants to speak with all of us,” you said, nervously trying to shift the mood to hide your butterflies.

“Ahh is that so, dove?” he said, leaning back on his palms and flashing a dangerous smile at you- doused in charm.

“Yes!” you said, hopping up and offering your hand to him. “Now come on, we can brave Icarus’ obnoxious tirades together.”

His head dropped in laughter and suddenly your stomach was twisted in knots, lungs short of breath. He was beautiful. He grabbed your hand and pulled you off towards the ship. You kept it to yourself, but you couldn’t help but relish in his firm and protective grip on your supple hands.

Present Day - Amazon Rainforest

“Druig, this is serious,” Sersi said, standing from her seat in the chapel to face the dark-haired man.

“I’ll tell you what’s serious. I’ve just been told I’ve been sent on a suicide mission for the past 7000 years, and that my entire existence is a lie,” Druig snapped, confronting her as he stalked forward. He was always able to keep such a serene and stoic demeanor. Yet, seeing his “family” together again after centuries seemed to have left him shaken. There was something eerie about seeing them all together. All except one. “So excuse me for not giving a shit about your plan right now.”

Druig turned and stormed to the door to leave, hoping to erase the encounter from his memory as soon as possible. If only he could warp his mind the way he could others. The sooner he left the room the sooner he could go back to his life, pretending they had never come.

“Don’t you think Y/N would want you to help?” Sersi asked.

Druig froze as his hand hovered at the door. He felt the muscles in his mouth twitch at the mention of your name. Bile in his stomach churned. He tried to stay calm, to keep himself composed, but he couldn’t bite his tongue. Before he could stop himself, he spun around, marching back over to them.

“Don’t mention her. Not to me,” he said, his jaw taut with anxiety and dread. “You don’t know what she’d want. Besides, she’s not even here.”

Sersi couldn’t respond before he had bolted out of the chapel, leaving the barn doors slamming behind him. The tension hung in the room so thick you could almost choke on it. Thena sighed, stroking the lizard perched across her lap, before speaking.

“You should know something about him and Y/N.”

1521 AD - Tenochtitlan

You stood beside Druig, leaning into the hard muscles of his side. You had tried to control your fear, but it always seemed to get the best of you. He kept you grounded- safe and secure. You cherished that, needed that. Especially now.

Thena tried to kill you and Makkari; she attacked the entire group. Druig had to carry you to Ajax himself. You were trembling in his arms as your legs shook and bled. Even now that you were healed, he couldn’t get himself to remove his grip on your waist. You knew she didn’t mean to harm you, she wasn’t herself. This was something else. Mahd Wryry.

“It is not important if you remember or not,” Ajax said, her hands slipping through Thena’s hair as she tried to calm her. Trying to convince her everything would be okay, that it was no big deal. But how could it not be, she would lose her memories; all the experiences and life that made her Thena. “Your spirit will remain, you will always be Thena deep inside. Trust me.”

“Why should she trust you?”

You looked over, hearing Druig’s deep voice speak up. You could feel his grip on you tighten yet his hands still shook. Your brows furrowed, noticing the tension in his neck and jaw. You tried to stroke his back, to calm him down, but he was already fed up. His hand gave your waist one last squeeze before leaving your side. You suddenly felt the cold chill of his absence as he walked towards Ajax.

“You’re asking her to let you erase who she is,” he said. You knew him better than anyone, you could hear the tremor in his voice. His tone was callous and dripping with resentment.

“Dru…” you said, trying to get him to relax. Your voice must’ve been too soft to drown out the boisterous drums in his head, playing that same beat of rage and disappointment over and over again.

“Druig, I know you’re upset, but-” Ajax tried to get him to understand, but he wasn’t having it anymore.

“Upset?!” Druig shouted. You were startled, stumbling back a bit at the tone of his voice. “We’ve trusted you for 7000 years, and look where you’ve gotten us.”

You bowed your head, knowing his resentment over the last seven millennia was finally bubbling over and unleashing on everyone in the room. You had listened to his troubles on countless nights. You knew how much it tormented him to watch the humans he cared for so deeply harm and destroy each other. You were always his shoulder to cry on, his to seek solace in. This was nothing new to your ears.

“I’ve watched humans destroy each other when I could stop it all in a heartbeat,” he said. You ducked your head, hearing the shake in his normally strong voice. You knew if you glanced up you’d see that quivering bottom lip you’d become so acquainted with. You couldn’t do it, you just looked down. “Do you know what that does to someone after centuries?”

You noticed Sersi and Phantos glancing at you, perhaps hoping you’d step in. They all knew of your confusing relationship. You’d never labeled it, never defined it out loud. Never confessed undying love in a secluded dwelling, soon to wed surrounded by family. But there was something. Something that kept you tied at the hip, something that allowed him to hold your hand and rest his head in your lap. There was something undeniable.

But you couldn’t say anything; to an extent, you understood Ajax. Druig knew you didn’t adore his power. You would never hold it against him, you’d never blame him for what Areshem gave him. But you believed it was a gift that had to be used responsibly. You had expressed to him it was something you believed should only be used in dire circumstances- to save a life or prevent disaster. But you knew something that made humans so special was their conscious free will and autonomy. You couldn’t rob them of that.

“Could our mission have been a mistake?” Druig asked, “Are we really helping these people build a better world, huh?”

You glanced up to see he had turned to look at you. The single tear slipping down his cheek stung in your chest. You could see it in his eyes as if he was pleading for you to say something. To beg him to calm down, to just talk. To take his hands and pull him to you. But you didn’t.

Druig’s jaw clenched as he turned on his heels, making his way out of the temple and down the steep set of stairs. His thick cape wrapped against your legs on his way out. You couldn’t hear his words as he stepped outside, the raging war filled your mind as you contemplated your role in your mission.

“It ends now,” Druig said.

Suddenly, you hear the clashing of swords and screaming come to a halt. You knew his eyes would be glowing a vibrant gold if you could see them. Before you could say anything, Ikaris swept past you; his arm slammed Druig into the stone wall behind them. You felt your stiff legs break free, bringing yourself to the pair desperate to break them up.

“Let them go,” Ikaris said.

“You’re gonna have to make me,” Druig said.

“Please stop!” you said, coming up beside them. Your hand reached for Druig’s but Ikaris stood between you. You felt Ajax approach behind you, sending Ikaris a stern look. He backed away, leaving the three of you. You stepped forward, taking Druig’s hand in yours. It shook as it gripped yours with vigor.

“If you want to stop me, you’re gonna have to kill me,” Druig said.

His hand slipped from your grasp. He turned away from you with a soft look before descending the temple. You watched as his eyes glowed and the humans below stood in wait for him. You glanced back at Ajax, your eyes pleading for her to stop him. But she did nothing, instead nodding for you to follow him. You ran down the stairs, your legs still weak and recovering. You stumbled as you chased him.

“Druig!” You shouted as you caught up to him, “Please wait!”

Hearing your messy footsteps, he stopped and turned to see you. Worry overtook his eyes as he watched your weak legs attempt to keep up with him. Quickly, he met you a few stairs up; his hands grasped your arms to hold you steady.

“Hey, what are you doing? You’re recovering,” he said, his concern for you halting his current plans. The yellow in his eyes dulled away as he looked at you. His brows trembled and unease widened his eyes.

“Druig, please don’t leave,” you said. Your hands reached for the fabric of his cape, as if holding him tight enough would keep him there with you. “Tensions are high right now, I get that. But please don’t leave.”

“I have to go, dove,” he said. His thumbs rubbed soft circles into your arms.

“Don’t leave me,” you said.

Druig’s gaze dropped, returning to your shaking legs. His stomach knotted and his chest ached at the thought of leaving you. Not being there to hold you in the night. To see your smile each time you saw the sparkling constellations in the sky. To soak in the look you reserved just for him, teeming with adoration and something else he was too afraid to name.

“Come with me,” he said, still guarding his gaze.

“Druig, this isn’t the answer,” you said.

Finally, he locked eyes with you again. He could no longer hide the red burning in his eyes, the tears coming to the surface. You knew this wasn’t the way, isolating himself, taking control of humans. You knew this wasn’t the answer. Not for the rest of time.

“You should stay,” you said, desperate to get him to listen.

“You won’t come?” he asked.

You just looked down.

He had his answer. Before you could get another word in, he took you and sat you on the steps. Steadying you into a more stable position. His hand tangled into the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you close one last time and pressing a long kiss to your forehead. You felt his tears soak into your skin before he pulled away. His hand began to slip from yours as he turned to leave, but you stopped him. Perhaps one last attempt to keep him there with you.

“Please, Druig,” you said. He glanced up, noticing Ajax watching the two of you from the temple.

“Sersi will help you down,” he said, swiping his thumb tenderly across your hand before pulling it away.

And just like that, he was gone.

Present Day

Druig leaned against a sturdy tree, staring up at the stars peaking through the brush above him. He couldn’t shake your voice from his head.

You were right.

This wasn’t the way. He had kept those people safe, he knew that. But as Sersi asked him to free them as the Deviant raided their village, he felt it. For the first time, he felt like the bad guy. He couldn’t shake the thought. He knew if you were there, if he had listened to you, none of this would have happened.

Perhaps Ajax would still be alive. Gilgamesh definitely would be. That was on him.

“Druig?” the voice startled him, shaking him from his thoughts as he saw Sersi approaching. She quietly stood beside him, glancing up at the stars he had just been studying.

“She was right,” Druig said, sinking to the ground as he hugged his knees to his chest. “Maybe I’m just as bad as the deviants.”

“What?” Sersi said, resting a hand on his knee. “Who said that?”

Druig just glanced at her, swallowing the hard lump forming in his throat.

“She would never, ever say something like that to you, Druig,” Sersi said. “Y/N adores you.”

“She didn’t have to say it,” Druig said, fidgeting with the pendant on the cord dangling from his neck. The soft texture of the blue and white glass slipped between his fingers. “How could she not think that?”

“Druig, Thena told us what happened in Molyvos, Y/N wrote to her. When was the last time you saw her?”

“I don’t know, at least a century. She used to come visit here, but after a while, she stopped. I went to see her in Greece. That was the last time I saw her.”

Sersi sighed, watching as Druig clutched at the necklace in his hand.

“We need to find her Druig. And we need you, please. For Y/N?”

1826 - Molyvos, Greece

Druig watched as your feet danced down the stone steps of the village to greet him, the thick linen of your skirts tickling your ankles as they flowed around you.

“You came!” you said, giggling as you reached him.

He couldn’t contain the infectious smile that seemed to spread across his face at the sight of you. His hands grabbed for your soft body, lifting you as he held you close. Your laugh trickled into his ear as you burrowed your face into the crook of his neck. He took in the potent scent floating off you as he set you down; seawater, wood, and roses.

“So this is where you’ve been spending your time lately, huh?” he said, nudging you with his shoulder. You smiled to yourself as you took his hand.

“This island is so calm. It’s what you’ve always wanted,” you said, leading him up the stairs.

You’d spent the following days guiding him through the village and showing him your life; how it intertwined with the people in your small community. Fishing, sewing clothing, and selling fruits at the market. It was peaceful, something he’d always longed for.

You reminisced on your days together all those centuries ago. Holding his head in your hands, soothing the pounding aches in his head from all the thoughts of others swirling through his mind. You knew it couldn’t have been any better back in the forest.

Sure, all the times you visited it was calm. But was that where he belonged? Isolated with no one to watch over him and make sure he was safe. You saw how drained he’d been, taking care of everyone else. And you couldn’t shake the feeling that the village would be fine without him. Not that he wasn’t valuable, but they needed to live a life of their own. So did he.

You’d hoped bringing him here would convince him. Give him the push he needed to finally leave it all behind and focus on him. To let the village flourish on its own.

You sat with him on the stone wall along the steps winding up to your home. Overlooking the sea below you, the waves crashing against the harbor and swaying the fishing boats tethered to the docks. The winding branches of white wisterias shaded the two of you, petals of the flowers occasionally blowing across your face in the wind.

You glanced over to Druig, the tunic he wore loose on his chest. His hands, normally wringing in his lap, were soft and relaxed. He gazed around the island before him, a smile subtly placed on his face. He may have been the mind reader, but you were his. You knew him so well, that you could read him like an open book. Even if he didn’t want you to. He was happy. You knew he wanted to stay.

“This is for you,” You said, reaching out to hand him the small trinket. He turned to see your sweet face, your eyes sparkling as the sun danced in your irises. He looked down to see you’d placed a small glass pendant in his hands. He studied the object, smiling to himself as he turned it in his fingertips.

“It’s an evil eye, the humans here believe it will protect you from evil spirits,” you said as you watched him. “It has to be gifted to you by someone, so I wanted you to have this.”

“It’s beautiful, dove,” he said.

Red splashed across your cheeks like watercolors at the name. He had always loved calling you that, watching you fluster before him in search of a response.

“You should stay,” you said, glancing down at your hands. You picked at the lace trim of your long blouse. You’d thrown the thought out into the open, and expressed your deep desire to him. You just hoped if he was going to reject you, it wouldn’t be as painful as you imagined.

“Y/N, you know I can’t,” he said. Quickly, he slipped the pendant into his pocket and stood from his seat on the wall. He felt the sudden urge to flee, to return to the village. He couldn’t be there any longer. Because if he had to say no to you again, to leave you while you begged for him to stay another time, he would crumble. How could he not when he was denying everything inside of him that pleaded for him to just stay?

You began to panic as he walked off. You couldn’t let him leave again.

“Dru please, you can’t keep doing this,” you said, following after him. “You have to live your life.”

“I have a life, that village is my life,” he said, turning back to you.

“You should let them go, Druig. It’s time,” you said, taking a step forward. “Come stay with me.”

“Y/N, that village is important to me,” he said, struggling to find a reason you weren’t right. Deep down, he knew you were right.

“And I’m not?” you asked.

Druig furrowed his brows in distress, fearing he couldn’t make the right decision. Why couldn’t he just stay? Just be happy here with you?

As the thoughts swirled in his mind, he felt the tension in his head building. The headache pounded harder in his skull as he watched you turn on your heels and make your way up the stairs. With a hand holding the tender space on his forehead, he chased after you.

“Dove, please wait,” he said.

“Just go, Druig,” you shouted over your shoulder. “If that’s what you want, then go!”

“Please, just stop!” he said. He could feel the pain building, the panic in his chest growing. He couldn’t leave you on a bad note again.

He pleaded behind you as you left him, chasing you up the stairs and begging for you to just stop.

“Y/N please!” He shouted desperately.

Suddenly, you stopped. As if your body wasn’t your own, you turned to face him. His eyes were glowing yellow and you couldn’t move.

Before you could even grasp what was happening, it was over. You shook your arms as control returned. Druig’s eyes were his normal blue. But they were distressed, regretful, and panicked. He messed up.

He controlled you.

You froze, this time of your own doing, considering what had just happened.

“Dove, I’m so, so sorry,” he said, rushing towards you; the realization of what he’d accidentally done dawned on him.

Quickly, you took a fidgety step back away from him. He paused, taking in the situation. You were afraid of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, tearing his eyes from your line of sight. “I didn’t realize I, I’m sorry.”

Finally coming back to yourself, you tried to reach for his hand. But he had already left.

Present Day - Belfast, Ireland

Druig walked up the steps to the ornate building in front of him. Sprite and Thena followed behind as he took in the large campus. It was only fitting that you'd end up teaching at a university. You were one of the smartest people he knew. And you loved to watch the humans grow and learn.

He waited on the steps as students filed out of the building. Sprite had figured out when your class would let out. Now he just had to wait.

The sea of lively students chatted amongst themselves as they rushed from the doorway, he desperately searched the crowd for your familiar face. When he finally saw you, it was as if the breath was knocked from his lungs.

You hadn’t changed much. But two centuries of fashion did take him by surprise. Instead of the modest, linen dresses he’d last seen you in on the coast of Greece, you wore a loose pair of grey pants, a long and flowing cream blouse, and brown flats. He never got tired of seeing how each culture and century dressed you.

Before he could turn back to the women behind him, he felt something tick in his brain. When he glanced back at your face, he saw your eyes meeting his. He could have sworn his brain was malfunctioning, you smiled at him.

You stopped in your tracks as you took him in through the crowd of people passing between you. He looked the same. The same clothing, the same hair. But what was new was the evil eye strung around his neck.

You couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face as you locked eyes with his blue ones. Your head gestured back to the building behind you, before turning back inside hoping he’d follow.

“So you’re saying I’m a robot?” you asked Sprite as you leaned against the counter behind you.

“Well, kinda,” she said, trying to help you grasp the situation. “But that doesn’t matter. You need to come with us.”

You glanced to Thena for her opinion. Her lips became a flat line as she nodded in agreement with Sprite.

The young eternal kept rambling, but you weren’t processing it. You couldn’t stop staring at Druig. He paced around the art studio, taking in all the large canvases that sat on easels and racks.

“Could we have a minute?” you asked the two, still looking at Druig. He froze at your request, making it clear he was still listening despite how he tried to keep up his aloof demeanor.

Sprite scoffed as she made her way out of the room, pretending to gag as she glanced at Druig and you. Thena smiled to herself, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze as she followed Sprite out.

Druig stirred by the window, unable to face you yet.

“I missed you,” you said. Your head tilted as you continued to examine his movements. He was nervous, it was obvious ashe fidgeted and picked at his cuticles.

“Did you get my letters?” You asked.

He paused. Of course, he got your letters. Every single one. They were bundled together with string and tucked under his pillow back at the village.

You never went a month without sending one. Ever since he left that island that day. You’d told him of your travels, everywhere you ended up over the decades. He’d read them all by candlelight after the village had long turned in for the night. He ruminated over each word; all the smudges of ink by your shaky hands, all the chicken scratch handwriting as you always wrote too fast in an attempt to catch up with your thoughts. He got every single letter. And he could recite them all if you asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally turning to face you.

Your smile faltered as he began to unravel.

“Druig,” you said, trying to stop him.

“No, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say it,” Druig took slow steps towards you as if preparing himself for you to stumble away from him again. But you didn’t

“I didn’t mean it, it just happened. I was overwhelmed and I couldn’t handle everything, but it’s no excuse. And I just-”

“Dru, it’s okay,” you were suddenly in front of him, your hands taking his. The tremors he could seem to control all those decades suddenly stopped.

“I’m not mad, it’s okay. I understand,” you said.

“I let them go. I’m done, Y/N,” he said, stepping closer to you. “I don’t wanna be a monster, dove.”

Your heart fluttered at that damn nickname. You fucking missed it.

“You were never a monster, Druig. What you can do, what you have to deal with. I’ll never understand it. But I just want what’s best for you,” you slipped a hand through his soft hair as it fell in front of his face. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I missed you, so fucking much,” he said, resting his forehead to yours.

You chuckled to yourself, brushing your nose against his as you smiled. Your lips slowly slipped across his, as if asking for permission. As if he’d been waiting for the moment, Druig pulled you close, his lips hungry for you. 7000 years of hunger.

When you finally pulled back, he was smirking like an idiot. You took your hand and ran your thumb across his red lips. He chuckled to himself.

“My beautiful, beautiful Y/N,” he said, his grip on your waist tightening. His accent slurred as he smiled against your cheek.

“What?” you asked, a soft laugh slipping from your lips.

“You’re gonna get killed with me trying to stop this emergence?” he said, jokingly.

“Oh absolutely.”

“I’d kill any celestial if it meant not forgetting you.”

---

hope you liked it heheh its not the best but hey, a new character :)

#marvel imagine #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #eternals #druig #druig x reader #druig eternals #druig imagine #angst

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milkpup · 1 year ago

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✧ tattoo artist!sukuna thoughts...✧

@g00miato (god bless this artist)

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› sukuna x f!reader drabble / thirst

‹𝟹 tags: au- no powers, au - tattoo artist, praise, sukuna is actually nice wtf???, pet names, implied oral, being called a good girl

‹𝟹 notes: ty to pookie @navi-n0 for the idea and for beta reading my shiiii :3 didn't think this would be hot but DAMN O_O sry to my readers for the ending :3 should i make it a full oneshot? tysm to @g00miato god tier jjk artist, im a simp fr

the way you were utterly excited to be inked by sukuna, not only because of his innate artistic talent, or even his good looks, but the fact that he was a sweet talker… or so you heard.

he would always take extra time prepping the skin, making sure it’s smooth and ready for the placement. he would meticulously place his stencil on, making sure you were satisfied with the placement but that ultimately he would be too. he wanted to be proud of it.

although he looks intimidating, and maybe he is a little, he’s ultimately super sweet when he’s in artist mode. constantly checking in on you every 20 minutes, momentarily stopping the buzzing of the tattoo gun to ask if you’re okay. you would always answer yes, this was nothing honestly. sukuna would grin and praise u, purring out things like “good girl” “you’re taking it so well”…

this. this was why you booked him. you were basically locked in at that point. every new tattoo idea you had, you came to him first. you would never admit it, but his little praises had you addicted.

it got to the point you didn’t even come up with the ideas anymore, you just asked him to ink you. you wanted to be his canvas. you would let him put anything on your body if he praised you for it. and he always did.

you always tried your best not to squirm or move around, but every little praise or comment had your body feeling. you couldn’t even feel the sensation of the needle pressing ink into your skin— all you could think about was the way his hand meticulously gripped the tattoo gun, how his bicep would flex, how he’d look up at you sometimes, studying you. one particular comment, “such a good girl, yeah?” had you softly whimpering out and jolting momentarily. his rough hand gripped your thigh, holding you into place. “be careful, princess” he warned. his sessions were usually private, no one else around to hear the glorious praises he would purr out with his sultry voice, every word dripping with tension.

he loved the complete and utter trust you gave him. sukuna loved that you were his personal project, his canvas, his toy. his gloved hands would linger a little too long when wiping the ink. he always admired his work, but this time he’s just admiring the canvas in front of him. it fills him with satisfaction seeing evidence of your trust in him literally inked onto your body.

“it looks amazing, ___” but he wasn’t talking about the tattoo. he was looking at you, every part of your body covered with him. he made his final wipe on the fresh tat, revealing the intricate design. “you were such a good girl this time.” he wraps your tattoo after cleaning it.

you smiled, “thank you~”

“you’re welcome, doll. on your knees so you can pay me now, sweetheart~”

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @navi-n0 @starshipxoxo @comicalgrievance

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

#sukuna ryomen #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x female reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen smut #ao3 writer #jjk fic #jjk fanfic #jjk drabble #jujutsu kaisen drabble

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starrynights-sunnyskies · 7 months ago

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as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·ﾟmisa x putellas!femreader, social media au, (13/17)

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when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.

or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous

fic: see my masterlist 🤍

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tagged: friend1, marisabel_rguez, re-inc yourusername: 💋 liked by re-inc, christenpress, laiacodina5 and 4,389 others

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re-inc Looking good! 🤙✨

friend1 masks, manis and movies 💆‍♂️🕺 ↳ yourusername 💃💅🏽

christenpress Loving the outfit!

albaps9 fuck you, why do you keep stealing my sunnies? 😤 ↳ yourusername hahahaha ↳ albaps9 no it's not fucking funny anymore yn 😫

marisabel_rguez Vroom vroom 😎 ↳ yourusername im in me mums car ↳ marisabel_rguez Que??? ↳ bff1 what did i say? grandma! who tf still quotes vines these days? ↳ yourusername cool people

alexiaputellas Two arms around Misa next time, por favor. Don't want a repeat of you falling off a bike again 😆 liked by marisabel_rguez

salmaparalluelo I miss you!! ↳ yourusername i miss you too! text me! 🤗

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↳ 8h ago: yourusername added to their story

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↳ 18h ago: yourusername added to their story

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tagged: bff3 yourusername: finally an auntie. ready to smother this little boy with all the love i have for the rest of his life. liked by bff3, marisabel_rguez, albaps9 and 2,380 others

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albaps9 wait, did i push out a baby im unaware of?? ↳ yourusername god you're so dramatic

bff2 The most beautiful and healthy little baby boy 💘

bff1 already waiting for the day he'll get to watch paw patrol with his paw-nties 🐶

alexiaputellas Congratulations, @/bff3 ❤️

username1 Oh dear god, for a second I thought this baby was hers before I read the caption 😅 ↳ username2 OMG ME TOO. i was like... but how-when-where?! ↳ username3 can you imagine though??? misa and yn as mommies? 😱 ↳ username4 i kind of can't, not for a while at least 😂

marisabel_rguez Adorable ☺️😍

bff3 He took to you so easily, and you to him. He's lucky to have you all in his life. I can't be happier that he'll get to have you to look up to 🥺

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↳ 55min ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story ↳ 51min ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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tagged: yourusername marisabel_rguez: Life is good 💛 liked by ona.battle, sofie.svava, laiacodina5 and 13,589 others

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albaps9 was misa stuck singing kid songs again while babysitting? 🤣 ↳ marisabel_rguez How do you know about that? ↳ yourusername 😳😛 ↳ albaps9 also, i can't believe our cousin lets you babysit over ME, i literally WORK with children?!? ↳ yourusername he's just letting us practice <3 ↳ marisabel_rguez Wait what?? 😅 ↳ albaps9 👀 ↳ alexiaputellas 🤨 ↳ yourusername to watch the little angel @/bff3 has blessed us with! ↳ albaps9 ok, gotcha!!!! ↳ marisabel_rguez 🙂 ↳ bff3 😘

sofie.svava 😍

ingridengen We miss you two 😙

yourusername i love you ↳ marisabel_rguez 😘

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tagged: yourusername bff2 Found this strange lady sitting at the gate. Think I should approach? liked by 320 people

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bff1 no, best to leave her there if you like your life. just turn around and pretend you didn't see her. trust me on this. ↳ yourusername 😦

albaps9 that's just her default mood. give her some snacks or bring her her gf and she'll be fine

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tagged: bff2 yourusername: oui are having a great time liked by alexiaputellas, ona.battle, marialeonn16 and 3,435 others

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marisabel_rguez Eiffel for you 🤩 ↳ yourusername holy crepe, i am in-seine-ly in love with you!! ↳ marisabel_rguez I louvre you too! ↳ yourusername i never want toulouse you ↳ marisabel_rguez ❤️ ↳ alexiaputellas You're perfect for each other 😐😂 liked by yourusername, marisabel_rguez and 56 others

bff2 Crossaints as big as my head!! 🥐☕️ ↳ bff1 so that's the size of a small country then? ↳ bff2 Fuck off 😂

bff3 Stay safe and have fun! Kisses from the three of us. And I want a debrief with all your photos after you get home! 😘 liked by yourusername

albaps9 the lara croft glasses make their return

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Text Messages

14:31 Misa 🤍 Hey, gorgeous. How's your day going?

15:56 you love!! it's been really sweet. we had brunch at the classiest cafe and did some shopping. went to an art gallery too. strolling the streets a bit now and going to the moulin rouge tonight! 💃

16:03 Misa 🤍 I can't wait to see all the photos! Watch out for pickpockets!!

16:04 you seeing as i wear my heart on my sleeve and all, that's great advice. thanks, chula

16:04 Misa 🤍 😊😘

16:56 you and i'm thinking of you. always. good luck with your match tonight. i'll try and catch some of it through stream when we're back in the hotel room. i love you.

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↳ 18h ago: yourusername added to their story ↳ 12h ago: yourusername added to their story ↳ 10h ago: yourusername added to their story ↳ 2h ago: yourusername added to their story

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tagged: bff2 yourusername: riviera shenanigans 🇫🇷 liked by salmaparalluelo, ingridengen, begovargas and 2,389 others

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alexiaputellas Double trouble ❤️

bff3 I'm so jealous right now!! Can hardly get a night out nowadays hahaha. ↳ bff1 well you decided to pop out a baby, you have to live with those consequences now 🤪 ↳ yourusername baaabe!!! ��let me know if you ever need us to look after your little boy. misa and i would be glad to. ↳ bff3 Definitely going to take you up on that offer once he's a little older! ↳ bff2 As soon as we can, we should schedule a trip with the four of us again! ↳ bff1 YES PLEASE ↳ yourusername i'm down <3 ↳ bff3 Sounds amazing 😘

marisabel_rguez Ladies!! ☺️ liked by yourusername and bff2

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Text Messages

10:03 Misa Hey Alba, are you free and up for lunch today? 😁

10:45 Alba Putellas flattered, but yn really is the only perfect putellas for you

10:53 Misa Shut up 😂

10:53 Misa It just feels like we haven’t done anything together in a while.

10:54 Alba Putellas tempting… what’s really behind this tho? you can't fool me 🧐

10:54 Misa Nothing, just want to chat and catch up.

10:55 Alba Putellas hmm sure... will you pay?

10:59 Misa Fine

11:12 Alba Putellas time and place and i'll be there! 😚

Delivered

13:04 Misa Maybe don't tell YN I'm in Barcelona to pick her up from the trainstation. I want to surprise her. Her friend's already in on it.

Seen

13:14 Misa Alba, don't tell me you've already told her 😅

13:18 Alba Putellas SORRY. how was i supposed to know to keep it a secret when you texted me earlier?????

13:26 Misa No worries, it's okay. I'll see you in a bit! I'm stopping by the florist first.

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↳ 2h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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↳ 2min ago: yourusername added to their story

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tagged: yourusername and 6 others bff2: Libertas perfundet omnia luce!! UB reunion!! Let's go!! liked by 493 people

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friend seconds before the real fun started!

friend Night's a complete mess already and it has barely even begun🤣

friend Bold of you to post a pic already when I'm sure we'll make plenty better photos during the rest of the night ↳ yourusername this is her 'before the damage' photo ↳ bff2 Caught!! 🙈

friend hey i'm not even there yet!! don't let the fun start already 😭

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↳ 2h ago: bff2 added to their story ↳ 2h ago: bff2 added to their story ↳ 2h ago: bff2 added to their story

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Text Messages

23:56 albaquerque 🌼 is that who i think it is in your friend's story?

00:34 you you got that right! crazy huh?

00:38 albaquerque 🌼 yn fucking idiot?? you don't put your ex gf on your lap and then pose for a picture, puta madre

00:38 you 😟

00:39 you jesus alba. chill. i'm at a university reunion. someone from our mutual friend group set it up. it's not like i texted her to meet up. we scooted our chairs together for the photo, that's all. she wasn't on my lap.

00:39 you and you know our breakup was chill. she's cool. it's been a couple of years. it was actually really sweet to catch up again after all this time, see how our lives changed and how much we've grown. it was sweet! we had so much to talk about 😭

00:39 albaquerque 🌼 that's exactly why it was such a bad idea omfg do you hear yourself? you're such a bimbo sometimes

00:46 you alba, we're both mature women and respect and understand that we were a part of each other's lives and past but that's that. there's nothing there. we parted as friends and we're still friends now. that's all. reuniting with her won't resurface my feelings. all that there is, is platonic now. i care for her in the sense that i want her to do well in life, but not with me by her side.

00:46 you but i can see why you'd think it's a little tasteless, but we only did that silly picture. we sat around a table with all the others the rest of the night. i told her about misa!! then the guys heard she was a footballer and we talked more about how we got together and such. everyone thought it was the sweetest story. frankly, i don't think i stopped bringing her up whenever i could 😭

00:46 you but wait ew why am i even defending myself to you

00:46 albaquerque 🌼 with all due respect, she was your first love, your first everything. and i know that things didn't work out, but i know you've always kept a soft spot for her because of that. you haven't talked since uni and now you're close again? i just don't want you to make a mistake.

00:51 you you're trying to find drama that isn't there, alba. she is a friend. and she's an ex for a reason.

00:53 albaquerque 🌼 who you used to kiss and fuck like you were energiser bunnies. that's a line you can't uncross. you're not being very respectful to your girlfriend. you can't mix those worlds with a clear conscience. imagine how misa will feel?

00:55 you oh so you consider me completely unable to be a mature woman and think i can't have a normal conversation without jumping into a woman's pants?

00:55 you and you're so disgusting, why did you have to say that. that made me really uncomfortable.

00:55 albaquerque 🌼 truth hurts

1:02 you why are you even lecturing me and why am i even listening to you out of all people?? i don't care what kind of shit date you had tonight but you don't go and lash that out on me.

1:04 albaquerque 🌼 because i know what i'm talking about when it comes to that. i made mistakes so i could learn and tell you what not to do. that's what older sisters are for.

1:07 you yeah, they're to look up to, not to pull you down

1:07 albaquerque 🌼 yn listen, where are you now? how much did you drink? do i need to pick you guys up?

1:07 you you didn't have to say it like that

1:07 you clearly not enough bc the headache i have rn is bc of you and not bc of the booze

1:07 albaquerque 🌼 where are you. drop your location

1:12 you fucking hell, go and annoy someone else.

1:12 albaquerque 🌼 i just don't want you ruining this good thing you finally have

1:23 you why do you think i ever would? do you really trust me so little? do you really think i would throw away what i have with misa, something i have waited for my entire life, something i've dedicated love and passion and dedication and energy to for almost two years? do you really think i would hurt my partner? the woman i want to propose to? you putting the thought in my head of her not being in my life makes me even more sure i want to stay by her side forever. do you really think that i would put her heart and her happiness on the line for an ex with whom i was never this in love with as i am with misa? do you really think i could hurt my favourite person like that?

1:23 albaquerque 🌼 goddamn yn, you're taking this out of proportion. i didn't mean it all like that.

1:23 albaquerque 🌼○○○

1:23 you no, my reaction is fair, and i think you meant it exactly that way. and you know what? don't even reply to what i asked. i'm afraid of the answer, seeing you also don't trust me having an ex around. if you wanted me to have an as shitty night as you, then you have succeeded, thank you very much

1:23 albaquerque 🌼 ○○○

1:24 you and you had no reason to attack me like that over a photo. you should know me better than what you're implying i was up to. and it really fucking hurts that you think i would do such a thing. i fucking love misa and you should know that. and you obviously doubting if i do, is making me feel really anxious if misa really knows how much i love her.

1:24 albaquerque 🌼 ○○○

1:24 you stop typing. fucking fuck off, alba. and don't text me. i'm really mad at you right now. leave me alone.

1:24 you and don't even try and contact me through mama or ale. or misa. or any of my friends.

1:25 albaquerque 🌼 ❗️Not delivered - yn i'm sorry, of course i trust you. i panicked. i shouldn't have said the things i did. sorry sorry i regret it. can we talk about it? i know you are in love with her. she's your entire world and you are hers, i can see that, don't worry. i never doubted that. but i panicked that maybe your ex would still be interested and would say just the right thing or bring up a memory and would put seeds of doubt in your mind or tempt you. i shouldn't have thought so. that was very low of me. and i know you would never do such a thing. im sorry.

1:25 albaquerque 🌼 ❗️Not delivered - where are you rn tho? im worried. but sorry again. im so sorry laelia. i just panicked, like i said, i don't want you to ruin what you have and also because misa-

1:25 albaquerque 🌼 ❗️Not delivered - oh great, of fucking course you blocked me.

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Text Messages

2:01 Alexia Hey, what's happened? I'm rooming with Misa at camp and YN called her in absolute tears. It's the middle of the night??

2:09 Alba fuck, okay, well i really didn't mean it the way i did but i guess i was a little too harsh about it??

2:09 Alexia About what?

2:09 Alexia And a little? You don't say. I couldn't even understand a word she said 🤨

2:09 Alexia I want you to tell me everything. And you have to do damage control the second you wake up tomorrow.

2:09 Alba yeah and i will, tho im not sure i'll be able to catch a wink of sleep now. but we also might have another problem

2:09 Alexia And you didn't think the one you created was enough? What is it?

2:11 Alba i don't know how serious she was about it or if it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and how short or long term her plans are, but the idea of proposing to misa is there...

2:11 Alexia Oh! Oh, wow.

2:12 Alba yeah oh

2:12 Alexia I thought we had to worry if she was ready, not worry that she was this ready.

2:12 Alba what should we do?

2:12 Alexia Change her mind, obviously.

2:14 Alba are you insane??!??!?

2:14 Alexia No, of course not, idiota!

2:14 Alba well woohoo, fucking forgive me but sarcasm doesn't hit the same way through text, alexia!!

2:14 Alba but what are we to do??

2:14 Alexia We'll come up with something.

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Text Messages

2:19 Misa Hey, Alba. I know what happened. YN called me. The intention behind wanting to protect our relationship was really sweet, but in doing so, you really hurt her, and by extension, me. I know what you meant and that you had only good intentions, but I trust her. She is an independent lady who can go out and have fun with friends and I'm absolutely not worried about her loyalty, because I can feel how much we love one another and how devoted she is to me. She told me there was a high chance that her ex would be there, and we talked about it. There was never an ounce of doubt in my mind that she would even think of either physically or mentally cheating on me. So what I'm trying to say is, don't worry about it. And don't doubt her. I don't either. She's mature and responsible and she's my person. YN is really upset thinking that you think so low of her, and worried that she was disrespectful towards me and is now actively overthinking even the most insignificant little things and interactions she's had in the time we've been together. She's worrying if she's told and shown me enough how much I love her. I know that behaviour of her will resurface now and then, it's her trauma response, but I'm really worried about it all because I can't calm her down through a phone the way I would want in real life, you know? Especially now that I'm out of the country. Once again, I know you meant well and it feels really sweet that you value our relationship and would fight for it and want it to last as much as we do. She probably doesn't want to talk to you right away, but can you please go and make it up soon? Just let her come to you first. She's staying with one of her friends now that she's in Barcelona, by the way. She's there now, she's safe.

2:45 Alba im sorry im sorry im sorry, i feel like a total ass and probleme starter and for what? ive read our chat back and i realise my mistake and my hostility to her messages. i was just panicking that all your effort would've been for nothing and that all she learned to overcome and the behaviours she grew out of with you and because of you, would be for nothing. i know you told me that she was growing quiet lately whenever you brought up the future and i know my sister. she's always had the worst coping mechanisms and it always starts with quietness and distance, so i was just afraid that she was chickening out of the commitment and that seeing her ex would be the perfect escape. i know i shouldn't have thought that about her. because that's the old her. the new her has you to hold on to in difficult times, and tonight has definitely proven that again. but the doubt and worry was a split second thought that i fed while i should've binned it the second it came up. but i've had a shitty night and seeing that photo just made it all worse. i shouldn't have taken it out on her. and i'm sorry for stepping on your toes. i just don't want you guys to ever break up. she's so happy with you. the past two years we've seen a version of her we've never seen. in a good way!! more bright and cheery and just carefree. and she can feel like that and let go of her troubles and stress because she's so loved, protected and cared for by you. once again, i'm so so sorry.

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tagged: bff2 yourusername: felt like we were young and stupid again. university reunion... check! next one we'll all have wrinkles and grey hair 😭

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friend just as fun and wild as the old days liked by yourusername

albaps9 glad you had a sweet night, ily yn. i really do ❤️

bff2 Uni gave me a massive debt but also you, so hey, that evens it all out! 😘 liked by yourusername

friend(ex) Don't you even worry about it, you'll age gracefully! friend(ex) But it was so fun to catch up again! Can't wait to support you in what life blesses you with next!! Wishing you and your loved ones all the best x friend(ex) And keep me updated on how it goes!! You got me all excited for you now!! 🤭🙈 liked by yourusername

friend you're still a real hoot! 🤙😂 liked by yourusername

friend u.b. para siempre 💙 liked by yourusername

marisabel_rguez 😘 ↳ yourusername 😙

friend And an extra 10 kgs on us 🤣🤣🤣 liked by yourusername

friend So good catching up with you again!!!! liked by yourusername

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albaps9: i love you. i’m proud of the woman you’ve grown into. you saw the hurdles life put up for you and didn't back down, but tightened your ponytail and went off running to tackle them by yourself. i wish i were a little bit more like you (only a little, i can only handle so much annoyance jajaja 🧡). you're the only little sister i'll ever want and i can't wait to stick by your side to see how much more rewarding and beautiful life will get for you.

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Direct Messages

yourusername i love you too. and i'm sorry.

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a/n: have the sweetest day, my loves! 🌼

#misa rodriguez x reader #woso x reader #woso social media au #woso imagine #smau

246 notes · View notes

cryptidvaquero · 3 days ago

Text

wip wednesday? don't mind if i do

here's an excerpt from a park ranger/bear shifter! john price/waitress! reader fic im writing

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You liked the evening shifts for a few reasons. Usually, the crankier older residents retired at 7 pm when the sun had barely started to set; thank God for that. Things were quieter, more laid back. You didn’t get paid shit, but at least no one would wish death upon you and your lineage for bringing them a plate with eggs over easy instead of garnished with liquid-fucking-gold.

And your final, favorite reason? You hear the jingle of the bell, and here he is.

“Hey John. Rough night?”

Your manager greets the rugged-looking man who walks through the door. Six-foot-something, brown hair and beard, built like a brick shithouse, and dressed like a damned lumberjack. Like clockwork, local park ranger John Price blesses your godforsaken job at 11:00 pm and leaves within the hour.

It’s the best 30-45 minutes of your shift.

John gives a rough grunt, nodding his head in greeting toward your manager before making a beeline to his favorite corner booth. Rough night indeed.

“He’s in your section, hon. Don’t forget he likes his t-”

“-Likes his tea unsweet. Yes, I know.”

He gets the same thing each time. Unsweetened iced tea, two waffles, a batch of scrambled eggs, three pieces of bacon. The guy eats like he’s starving, yet he’s built like he climbs trees and catches fish with his bare hands. Hell, he’s a park ranger, he probably does.

You disappear into the back, pouring an unsweet tea before ushering it out to John’s table.

“Hey! How are you tonight?” Same song and dance, same fake smile. The life of a food service worker. John glances up at you, drowsy blue eyes sitting under thick eyebrows. The corner of his lips tilts up in a similarly forced smile, and he gives you a nod.

“S’Alright,” he grumbles. His voice is deep and growly - it’s like he’s perpetually stuck in a post-cigarette bedroom voice. Which, of course, you don’t mind in the slightest. He could read off a ransom note and you’d probably swoon. You place the unsweet tea in front of him and he eyes it like water in the middle of a scorching desert.

“Same as usual? Two waffles, scrambled eggs, three-”

“Ah- uhm. No, actually. A bit different tonight.”

Your eye twitches, an instinctual response to being interrupted by a customer. John doesn’t notice, he’s too busy looking out the diner windows toward the treeline. You’d think he’d leave work at work, but apparently, old pines are interesting enough to warrant his lack of conversational engagement. He’s a grown man, you tell yourself, it’s kind of how they are.

You tear off the ticket you were already writing down, stuffing the crumpled yellow sheet in an apron pocket before placing the tip of your pen on the new sheet. “Alright,” you huff. “What’s it gonna be tonight?”

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“Jesus fucking Christ, kid.”

The cook in the back looks at the ticket, his eyes growing as wide as saucers. An hour before closing, and he’s practically cooking a Thanksgiving feast.

“This is John’s order? John Price? The same guy we see almost nightly?”

You throw your hands up in exasperation.

“That’s what I was thinking, Phil! I wrote down his usual and everything, and he interrupts me and proceeds to order half the goddamn menu!”

Phil hangs up the ticket in front of him, and you can see the chicken scratch you quickly applied to the paper, almost completely covering it. John had ordered… and kept ordering. It’s not like you’ve never dealt with large orders before, but from park ranger John Price? This was completely out of his norm.

The back door opens and shuts, and a younger line cook walks in smelling like cigarettes.

“Hey, Alex, come look at this!” Alex shuffles in, looking over Phil’s shoulder. You watch as his eyes go from indifferent to indignant. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s an hour till closing and

you’re serving a party? Tell them to go the hell ho-”

“No no no- this is John, man. Mr. Price. Can you even believe it?”

Alex looks from the ticket and to you. You watch as his lips move under his mustache, like he’s trying to get some sort of response out. Phil just pats him roughly on the back before hanging the ticket on the line.

“Let’s get started, bud. Mr. Shepherd’ll have our asses handed to us if we don’t close on time.”

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It’s about 11:45 pm. About 25 minutes ago, you had to pull out the old dolly like some sort of dumbass to push out the huge order to John. He owed you for that. He really fucking did. And now, 25 minutes later, the entire fuckass meal is gone. Nowhere to be found. He ate it all.

Perched behind the counter, you pretend to wipe things down while Alex comes out of the back of the house. He perches next to you, shoulders bumping together. He smells a bit like bacon grease and menthol.

“You think we can add gratuity to his check?” He murmurs.

“Do you wanna be the one asking Herschel ‘we-go-way-back’ Shepherd to upcharge our regular?”

Alex purses his lips, head nodding back and forth. Finally, he settles on a comfortable “no,” before stalking back into the kitchen. With a sigh, you toss the rag you were holding to the side and push yourself from the counter. You walk to the back of house to ring John up, emerging shortly thereafter and slipping it on his table. “You gonna need anything to go?” You’re not really sure why you asked - he ate enough to sustain a damned bear for the winter. If he asked for anything to go, you might punch him.

Lucky for you, he shakes his head.

“No ma’am,” he says, his voice gravelly.

You feel a bit guilty, then. All he was trying to do was order a meal, but you’ve been groveling all evening over walking a couple of plates in his direction. For all you knew, he could’ve missed lunch or something, too busy doing… whatever the hell a park ranger does.

He’s not very chatty tonight, either. Usually, you can fish a bit out of him if you bat your eyelashes and don’t look too busy. He doesn’t mind small talk if he doesn’t feel like he’s getting in your way. But this whole night has felt like pulling teeth.

“Alex made a joke about charging you gratuity for that meal of yours,” You laugh.

The joke quickly slips and falls flat when John looks at the check with a blank expression. Lord almighty.

“Sorry for the trouble,” He replies.

You want to tear your hair out. Does he actually think you were trying to guilt-trip him? Jesus Christ, you want to go hide in a hole and quit forever.

“No no!” You raise your hands to wave off his apology. “It was a joke. He was just being a dick, y’know?”

John reaches for his wallet, tucked away safely in a Carhartt jacket that’s seen better days. He slips his card to you, and you know that it’s time to run off before you say another stupid thing.

Alex and Phil are ragging on each other when you scramble to the back of house, and Phil flashes you a grin. However, your mood is soured. You punch in the numbers and get John’s receipt before they can try and drag you into one of their stupid conversations.

“Here you go,” You mumble, handing John his receipt and card back. Your throat itches with the compulsory ‘thank you for coming, have a good night,’ but you hold it back. Putting on another smile might just make you sick to your stomach tonight.

John rises from his seat, stuffing his card back in his wallet and then his jacket. He nods in acknowledgment, stepping from the booth. He’s taller than you by a long shot as he stands, and he’s even hunched over a bit. If he’d stand up straight, he’d practically cast a shadow over you.

“You have a good night, love. Drive safe.” The most words he’s spoken all night, and they’re telling you to be safe. In that growly accent of his. He’s not even making eye contact, practically bristling at the prospect of socialization, but you feel like your knees are about to give out just from his words.

“Yeah,” You breathe. “You too, okay? Watch out for animals in the road.”

Mentally, you compartmentalize a thought that says buying a book on local wildlife to talk about with him next time is a good idea. It might be a bit weird, but he’s a bit weird. He’d probably dig it.

John nods, finally meeting your eyes as that caterpillar of facial hair quirks up in a small smile.

“Bears right now, mainly. Most know better than to run around the roads, though.”

Why the hell is that little fact enough to make you starstruck? You barely muster a nod before he’s out the diner door, the bell ringing behind him and signaling that the last customer of your shift has left.

#call of duty #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #john price #captain price #captain john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #cpt price x reader #call of duty fic

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diamjem · 1 month ago

Text

blame the champagne

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!mc

summary: sebastian sallow attends his ex’s engagement party and he is fine.

word count: 7.1k

warnings: angst, alcohol abuse (sort of), marriage is a prison, 19th century high-society, no y/n, sebastian ruins everything he touches

a/n: first fic i’ve ever posted on tumblr pls be kind im jus a girl (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) ANYWAYS i wrote this while listening to exile by ts over and over and over again so maybe give that a lil listen while you read if u wanna set the mood. can you tell by the end i was just excited to get it done with lols. also this is really far from my usual writing style (i mainly post on wattpad ik boooo) but here ya go. im well aware of how all of u eat up angst like it’s a happy meal YES THERE WILL BE A PART TWO. if the hyperfixation persists this might even be a longer series BUT god knows how many wips i already have pls have mercy on my poor soul

[ao3] [wattpad]

it was a nice party.

no, really. it was.

sure, there were some things sebastian could’ve done without—the awkwardly stiff ballroom, for one, with its velvet curtains that probably cost more than his entire wardrobe—but on the whole, he couldn’t deny credit where it was due.

the music was stimulating enough to have ballgowns spinning around endlessly on the dancefloor. food, exquisite; hors d'oeuvres that looked more like art than appetizers, but delicious nonetheless. and the decor? a tad too extravagant, maybe, with gold ribbons draped from every chandelier, catching the candlelight in a way that felt more like a royal procession than a social gathering. but who was he to judge? he was certainly drinking enough to blur any such distinctions, and there was more than enough champagne.

so, yeah, it was a really nice party.

well, save for the fact that it’s his ex’s engagement party to some guy from a prestigious pureblood family or whatever. sebastian still couldn't quite remember his name, though he’s pretty sure it starts with the letter h. he read the invitation, the fine lettering that seemed too fancy for its own good, but the moment he’d seen “engagement” paired with her name, his brain had short-circuited. he didn't need nor want the details. it was enough to know that she was moving on—and he, apparently, was not. but that's fine. he’s fine.

sebastian would have preferred to avoid the entire affair, but anne had insisted—no, berated him—into attending. "just be grateful she even thought to invite you to such a special day." she'd demanded.

ominis, bless him, had tried his best to offer some well-meaning, clumsy attempt to soften the blow, but when all was said and done, suggested sebastian defer to anne. there was no doubt (maybe a little) ominis was his best friend but he was also anne’s husband now. and a wife’s word, especially in the sallow family, was the law. infuriating, as if they haven't ganged up on him enough their whole lives.

speaking of those two, where the hell are they? sebastian was already this close to hexing them for dragging him here in the first place—much less leaving him alone in a crowd of polished, tight-lipped strangers. not that he hadn’t been to his fair share of these high-society events. as an established wizard, a decorated auror, top of his division no less, he had his place at these things, his duty even. in fact, somewhere deep down, part of him even liked the glitz and glamour. it was the sort of thing that would make most people feel important, like they were part of something larger, something better.

but this? this wasn’t his crowd at all. not when he had to stand there, watching the one that got away and her decorated hand clutch her husband-to-be’s arm. the sight of it churned something deep in his gut, like a bitter knot that wouldn’t untangle.

alright, maybe it’s time to admit it.

it was not a nice party at all.

the music? too stiff. too classic. she usually liked it loud and roaring. she used to love a ceilidh, for merlin’s sake. the food? too tiny. he could practically see her at the table, scarfing down a full plate before reaching for seconds, her stomach always growing faster than her appetite. the decorations? too gaudy. too excessive. then again, she never had a good eye for interior decor—at least, not according to the proper standards. her idea of decoration had been finding old furniture abandoned in the highlands and somehow hauling it back to their (now just his) flat in london.

salazar, this whole party is wrong. she never even cared for this kind of thing. she would always roll her eyes when he dragged her to some work event, muttering something about she’d much rather be laughing over a pint in the pub with him.

but it wasn’t just the party, was it? not the music or the food or the decorations. it was the fact that none of this felt like her anymore. it felt like she had become something else. something he wasn’t a part of.

sebastian watched her over the rim of his glass as he took a long swig of his drink.

now, the party may be no good, but the champagne? that's another thing. it was crisp, sharp, and cold, slipping down his throat with a tingle that almost made him forget where he was and who he was supposed to be celebrating. almost.

they were standing on the opposite side of the ballroom, where they were entertaining pompous-looking guests with what sebastian could only assume was ostentatious conversation. by they, he meant her and her fiancée (horace? henry?)—who, by the way, is the exact opposite of sebastian, with his raven hair, pale and freckle-free skin, and posture so impeccable that it even made sebastian straighten his own back.

she held out her hand to a lady she was talking to as if to flaunt her ring and sebastian crinkled his nose at the sight. he had to squint, but even from across the room, he could see that blinding diamond on her finger, catching the light like some cruel trick of the shadows. she’d always blabbered about how diamonds were too overrated, how emeralds were the only stones truly worth their weight. he never saw the appeal before, but now he did.

even her own hair wasn’t her. neater than usual, pulled up into that impossibly tight bun. it had always been free before, with that little curl by the side of her neck that always seemed to escape no matter how much she tried to tame it.

and that smile. it was perfect and even like it had been practiced for this very occasion. her real smile was never perfect. it was always a little crooked on the right side and it made her eyes squint into crescents.

pretentious. all of it. most of all, this engagement party. but at least, he had a drink in his hand and a healthy amount of champagne sloshing in it, which, at this point, was enough to blur the sharp edges of his cynicism.

or perhaps it wasn't his cynicism he’s been trying to drown in champagne all night but bitterness. who’s to say, though? certainly not sebastian—his pride would never let him admit that aloud, especially not when he’s supposed to be making merry with the very thing that made him bitter in the first place.

merlin, this engagement party is beginning to feel more and more like a funeral with every passing second, and he'd already dug himself a deep-enough grave just by showing up to this affair—by allowing himself to be here, in this strange limbo between the past he had to let go of and the future he no longer had any part in.

okay, funeral might be too near the knuckle. a stage play, now that's more fitting—complete with its flashy set, monotonous musical accompaniment, even the lead cast and audience. it all felt like a performance, and he, the unwilling spectator, had been cast in the worst role.

all that is to say, it really was not a nice party.

and it seemed he wasn’t the only one with grievances about the whole thing when just a few feet away, he caught the rasp of a shrill, hushed voice, rising above the ambient murmur of polite conversation like a knife through velvet.

“what a pity he's off the market. and to her, of all people. disagreeable little shrew of a witch, if you ask me.”

sebastian turned toward the source of the sound, narrowing his gaze. two women, dressed in garish, overly elaborate gowns were leaning in, exchanging what could only be described as venomous whispers. one of them, a woman with too much rouge on her cheeks, elbowed her companion, who, scandalized, raised a hand to her lips in mock surprise.

“an odd pairing, wouldn't you say?" the second woman chimed in, her voice betraying her amusement. “the hero of hogwarts and a pureblood heir. i wonder how they ever came to be.”

“if all the rumors about her past are to be believed, there has to be a conspiracy behind this. perhaps she slipped him an amortentia or, merlin forbid, blackmailed him.”

the second woman raised her glass in contemplation, her eyes gleaming with the sort of cruelty that only gossip seemed to nurture. “or maybe it’s for status,” she mused, “a marriage of convenience, perhaps? the hero marrying into a respectable family for a bit of security. a trade, if you will.”

he would have been inclined to agree—if only they hadn’t so thoughtlessly insulted the woman he once (still) loved. he could almost feel the heat rising to his face, the bitter sting of their insinuations making his hand ball into a fist at his side. but stepping in would be too over the line, even for sebastian. because she wasn't his to defend anymore. she’d made sure of that by giving her hand to some pureblood prick that wasn't him.

“well," the first woman continued, her voice turning sly, "whatever the case, she’s certainly fortunate. there aren’t many men left nowadays willing to be tied down, what with all the modern notions of ‘free love’ and 'unconventional living.' most prefer the arrangement where marriage is simply a word they needn't bother with. she’ll never want for anything, i suppose.”

“come to think of it, wasn't she in a long-term relationship just before this? witch weekly was quite abuzz about it. detailed how they’ve been together since their time in hogwarts and how everyone thought they'd be married by now, only for them to end in ruins all of a sudden.”

"oh, i think i remember that. though, as i recall, they never revealed the identity of her beau." the first woman pondered, tapping her fan against her cheek. "such a mysterious fellow, wasn't he? can you imagine what it must be like for him? finding out his beloved is to marry one of the wizarding world’s most eligible bachelors so soon after their parting?"

"oh, i’d be positively reeling," the second woman chimed in, a wicked grin playing at her lips. "i’d hardly be able to hold my glass steady."

that was it. he’d had enough eavesdropping for the night. no, scratch that—his whole life, actually.

this was precisely why he never engaged in gossip—not because he didn’t know it was often rooted in half-truths or outright falsehoods, but because on the off chance it was a truth, he couldn’t endure the sting of it especially when rubbed in his face. the incessant chatter, the giggling, the way their voices danced around his very existence like a cruel little game. it was as though they had found some perverse pleasure in prying open wounds that had barely even healed, turning them over in the light for sport.

but there was nothing like alcohol to cleanse the wound, so he had the snack steward pour him a fresh glass of champagne to flush out the muck that clung to the gash.

and it shouldn't even hurt in the first place. he was over this. he’d already accepted how things had come to be. hell, he wouldn't be here at this godforsaken party if he hadn't. this was not the time or place for this. he was a professional, damn it. he had been through worse than a half-forgotten heartbreak in his time, for merlin’s sake. this wasn’t about him, or what he thought he could have had. he was fine.

it was just the champagne. the party had so much damn champagne. it had clouded his head and muddled his thoughts. it made everything hurt more than it should. he just needed fresh air, something sobering, something to clear the fog.

so he excused himself without a word. before he knew it, he was standing on the balcony, the cool night air hitting his face with an almost brutal clarity.

as the cool breeze ruffled his hair, it felt like he was standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down into the chasm below. maybe that was the real feeling—falling. that's what it had always felt like with her. a leap into something that he couldn’t control. something that was already lost before he had the chance to catch it. he’d never been able to get his footing, never been able to catch the ground beneath him before it slipped away.

and tonight, he was just watching her from the bottom, wishing he could climb back up.

—

sebastian stood there, the cold seeping through his coat as the social raged inside. glass of champagne still clutched tightly in his hand since he excused himself—how long ago had that been? a while. he wasn’t sure. time had started to lose its meaning out here. the muffled hum of the party drifted through the heavy stone walls, but he didn’t have the energy to care anymore.

it was a dreadful party, anyway.

at least out here, in the chill, there was a kind of comfort in the solitude. even if it felt like he was slowly being frozen into the stone.

the sound of the balcony doors opening caught his attention, followed by a soft click as they closed behind whoever had dared to step out into the cold.

“oh, my apologies! i didn’t know someone was out here. i—sebastian. there you are.”

sebastian turned towards the commotion, and there she was. with her too-primped hair, too-tight smile, and too-bright ring.

his gaze met hers, and for a moment, there was something there—a flicker of recognition, of shared history, that made his breath catch, almost rivaling the buzz the champagne gave him.

“there you are,” he replied, his voice hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in days. it was almost instinctive—like a beck and call he didn’t even realize he was still answering to.

she let out a breath, looking as if she had been holding it in for far too long. “sorry, i just needed an escape from all that.” her hand swept vaguely behind her, motioning to the pantomime behind the balcony doors.

“i’ll take my leave if you like.” sebastian said, already moving to turn away.

her brows immediately shot up, her hands instinctively raised as if to stop him. “no, stay. please. i’d like some company that isn't somewhat of a stranger for once tonight. unless… you’d rather leave?”

“i’ll stay.”

the words slipped out before he had a chance to stop them, much to his chagrin. he could almost hear his own internal voice, the one that had always been a little too self-assured, a little too sure of himself, yelling at him for it. though he never really knew how to say no to her, he thought by now he’d learn to. maybe it’s because he’s out of practice, or maybe it’s just the champagne dulling his senses.

but then, a small, crooked smile curved on her lips—a smile so familiar, so raw, that sebastian swore it made his heart skip a few beats too many. it was a glimpse of the real her. the one without all the pretense. and gods, it hit him harder than any amount of champagne in the party—no, the entire world—ever could.

she lifted the hem of her skirt just enough to kick off her heeled shoes with a frustrated huff. “these shoes are killing me,” she muttered under her breath, her voice a touch more vulnerable than she probably intended.

sebastian watched her for a moment, his gaze lingering on the shoes she discarded with such finality, as if casting away a part of her carefully constructed image for a moment of relief. then stepped up next to him, leaning casually against the railing. she folded her arms across her chest, her gaze sweeping out over the city lights as if they held some unspoken truth.

the silence stretched between, but it felt oddly familiar—like the space between them had never really grown so wide. maybe he was just deluding himself, but for a moment, it felt like they hadn’t changed, like they could still slip back into those old rhythms. it wasn’t comfortable, not exactly, but it was natural in a way.

“congratulations, by the way. it’s a nice party,” sebastian said, his voice a little too casual. a lie. he knew it, she knew it. and yet, neither of them dared to say it aloud.

“the very picture of grandeur,” he added, lifting his glass in a half-hearted toast, as if the motion might somehow mask the gaucheness creeping into his tone.

she hummed in response, but it wasn’t in agreement. It was more like a sardonic chuckle, a sound that told him she saw through it all. “and then some,” she replied, her voice dripping with dry humor. “i think it’s quite over the top. but don't tell hector i said that, he’d have a fit.”

hector? oh, her fiancée. that must be his name.

for all his loquacious nature, sebastian didn’t quite know how to respond to that. there was a pang of something—jealousy, regret, resentment—that made the words catch in his throat. there was a part of him that wanted to ask how it felt, to ask if hector was everything she had dreamed of. but he knew he didn’t have the right. so, he stayed silent, letting the questions churn inside, only to swallow them down along with another gulp of champagne.

she smiled then, warm at first, but it quickly shifted into something more melancholic. “but i’m glad you’re here, sebastian,” she said, her voice gentle. “to be honest, i wasn’t sure if you’d come, considering, well, everything. if i were you, the last place i’d want to be is my ex’s engagement party.”

he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “i could be in worse places,” he said, the smirk tugging at his lips as he raised his glass. “and hey, what could be better than a party with an abundance of champagne?”

“i know you’re joking, but take it easy on the champagne, alright? you’re a lot more indulgent than you like to think.”

sebastian leaned back, giving her a sidelong glance. “ah, there it is. your trademark nagging. i’m already starting to feel sorry for hector.”

the words were flippant, but his chest tightened the moment they left his mouth. the thought of someone else being on the receiving end of her odd brand of shrewish affection gnawed at him more than he wanted to admit. he would have swallowed every word he'd ever said if it meant he could keep all that cavilling to himself again. but that's neither here nor there.

she scoffed. “oh, trust me, he does enough nagging for the both of us. quite the pedant, really. i don't know how you put up with me for as long as you did. might be a good idea to ask for your advice."

her words were wrapped in jest, but sebastian didn’t miss the small shift in her expression. the tiniest of pouts tugged at her bottom lip, and he caught it—just a flicker. it passed so quickly he almost convinced himself he hadn’t seen it. but he had. and it twisted something in his chest, a reminder of all the ways he used to know her. again, he found himself telling himself that it didn't concern him. not anymore.

“advice?” he said, his voice forced into a casual tone, but it cracked just a little. “you’re asking the wrong person, hen. i’m hardly an expert on relationships. evidently.”

the irony in his own words didn't escape him. no, what did escape him was just how much the slip of that term of endearment landed with weight.

her gaze flicked over to him, brow raised in mild surprise, the corner of her mouth twitching with amusement. “hen?” she echoed.

ah, of course. yet another symptom of too much champagne that also falls under a lack of control—the slip of the tongue.

“force of habit.” his excuse came, quickly trying to backpedal.

hen was a relic of their past, something he’d used to call her when things were simpler, before everything had gotten tangled and messy. she would always mock him for using such a twee nickname, but there was always something in her expression when he said it, a brief flicker in her eyes that made him wonder if, deep down, she didn’t mind it as much as she let on.

but to his surprise, she just smiled, the curve of her lips soft, almost fond. she didn’t mock him, didn’t even raise an eyebrow. no judgement. no laughter at his expense. there was a quiet in her gaze, one that lingered longer than usual. recognition, maybe. nostalgia. the kind of thing that shouldn’t have been there, but it was. and it echoed in his chest, so painfully familiar.

she hummed, the kind she used to make when she was content, and turned back to the night sky, as though the way she looked at sebastian didn't just send him reeling right then and there. as if she knew that that one look would make him more flustered than she would if she’d just mocked him.

“so, what’s been keeping you busy these days?" she asked, her voice softer now, a hint of genuine curiosity underneath her teasing tone. "the world’s still spinning, i presume?"

"ah, you know. work, as usual," he replied, his tone flat and yet cautious at the same time.

if it were anyone else, he'd have launched into a long-winded spiel of his latest case. after all, his work had become the one thing he clung to, the only thing that made getting out of bed in the morning feel necessary. but with her? the words didn’t flow so easily. even back then, it had become a touchy subject between them—something that both defined him and drove a wedge between them.

okay, so maybe it wasn't his work that drove them apart and more so his obsession to it. or rather, his obsession to prove himself. his obsession to be part of something larger, something better. but that was a thing of the past, and there's no point dredging it up now when they're supposed to be celebrating the future.

"of course, still married to your job, i see. i mean, i get it, you've always been a workaholic.” she nodded, a knowing yet bittersweet smile playing on her lips. "i even heard you took down yet another beast trafficking ring. well done, sebastian.”

sebastian's brow arched involuntarily. had she been keeping tabs on him? the idea that she might still be keeping track of him, that he’s still running around in that mesmerizing clutter of a mind of hers? he wouldn't dare say it out loud but it tickled him pink. it was both absurd and somehow thrilling. maybe she had asked around—natty, perhaps? he had worked on a handful of cases with her over the past few months—there was no reason natty couldn’t have mentioned something about the work they’ve been doing. or maybe she’d been watching him? he wouldn't put it past her to do such a thing, sly little witch she is.

“oh, would you wipe that look off your face?” came her voice, the playful edge in her voice obvious. “i know what you're thinking, and no. i just happened to read about it on the daily prophet.”

sebastian couldn’t help the slow, satisfied smile that crept across his face. she could feign ignorance as much as she liked, but the flush on her cheeks told a different story. and it sure as hell wasn’t just the rouge she wore. it spread slowly, a warm pink creeping up her neck, staining her cheek.

“is that so?” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, but it came out a little softer than he’d intended. “i guess i make the news more than i realized.”

“i’ll have you know the daily prophet reports on anything these days. they even had an article on what the best flavor of bertie bott’s beans is.” she rolled her eyes, her lips twitching with barely contained amusement. “beans, sebastian. on the very same page of your ring-busting article. i guess that's the kind of highly important news they decide to prioritize.”

“next thing you know, they're reporting on the right way to sneeze.” he added with a wry grin.

“oh, you’d better read that then,” she said, shaking her head, her eyes alight with a teasing sparkle. “merlin knows how many have suffered at the hands of your loud sneezes.”

“well, you know what the daily prophet won't be able to tell you? i adopted a cat.”

her eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised. "a cat?" she looked at him like he’d just announced he’d learned to juggle fire. “you? this happened when, pray tell?”

sebastian shrugged, his smile widening just a little. "oh, you know. a few weeks ago. felt i might do with some company that wasn’t a case file or a bottle of firewhisky.”

the glint in her eyes only told him she was intrigued, so he kept going. "yeah. you’d love her. she’s a restless bugger, but she can be so affectionate. she reminds me a lot of you, actually. it’s why i got her in the first place. i even named her hen after—”

he froze mid-sentence, his smile faltering as soon as he realized what he’d said. sweet merlin, is there any chance he could cast a shrinking charm on himself so he could be small enough to jump into his glass and drown in the champagne?

or maybe that’s just it. he’s had way too much champagne. it had messed with him already more times than he could count tonight, so it wouldn't be too far-fetched. but then again, he didn't really care enough to stop drinking. not when the alcohol made it easier to suppress the bitter feelings that threatened to spill.

she stared at him for a long moment, eyes wide with surprise, then a small, entertained twist of expression tugged at the corner of her mouth. if earlier hadn’t been enough to spark her teasing, then surely this would be.

“merlin, i’ve been replaced by a cat.” she tilted her head. “i don’t know whether to be offended, relieved, or touched.”

sebastian’s eyes narrowed, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed his attempt to look disinterested. he rolled his eyes dramatically, though the teasing wasn’t lost on him. “oh, come off it,” he muttered.

“look at you,” she spoke again. her voice was soft, as if overflowing with a solemn pride. “sebastian sallow, slytherin’s finest, accomplished auror, and now, cat owner. everything you ever wanted to be.”

if one word could be used to describe sebastian, it would be amour propre. granted, that’s two words, but the point still stands: he’s everything he’s ever wanted to be, and he’s proud of it. hell, he’d sacrificed more than he cared to admit to get here, to prove himself, to show the world that he was enough.

but if so, why did her words feel like a punch to the gut?

because all he’d ever wanted was to be hers. that was the truth of it, buried beneath all the ambition, all the success, all the work that had consumed him. it had never been about the accolades or the recognition. it was all just smoke and mirrors, an illusion from what he truly wanted. to prove himself worthy of her hand.

and when his eyes landed on that diamond on her finger, he’d realized all of it was for nothing. true to sebastian sallow fashion, he became too focused on the end goal he’d lost sight of where it all began.

"and you?" he finally managed, voice rougher than he intended. "you’re becoming a... wife."

the words felt like lead in his mouth. he swallowed hard, as if trying to chase the bitter taste out of his throat.

she sighed softly, almost wistfully, and her hand moved to absently fiddle with the diamond ring on her finger. the band slid up and down, just a little too big for her, a subtle movement that made it seem like it didn’t quite belong.

"i know, right?" she said, a faint, almost bitter edge creeping into her voice. "everything i ever wanted to be..."

“do you ever wish things could have panned out differently, sebastian?” she asked the question softly after a beat, but there was a weight to it, like she already knew the answer.

sebastian tried to find the words, but only stayed silent. he would be lying if he said he didn’t—if he didn’t wish, deep down, that things had turned out differently. but he’d had a year to accept it. a year to make peace with the reality handed to him, to bury the gnawing what-ifs under layers of duty and time. he’d convinced himself he was moved on. convinced himself that this was what was meant to be.

but that was before today. before this party. before the sight of the ring—her ring—shining like a cruel reminder of everything he had lost.

well, what good was wishful thinking, really? what was it but a self-inflicted wound that only festered into regret? what was done was done. and what was done was them—two separate paths now, carved out by the choices of time.

“why am I even asking? i’m sure you wouldn’t have it any other way.” her voice broke through his thoughts, laced with a softness that almost felt too painful.

“but... isn’t this what you wanted?” he forced himself to meet her eyes, though the words scraped his throat like nails. “to settle down, build a family?”

her eyes dropped to the ring again, the weight of it between them. she didn’t answer right away, as though she were trying to decide how to put it into words. the silence stretched thin before she spoke, her voice almost wistful, a quiet ache behind it.

“i… it is. just not like this.”

sebastian frowned, his brow furrowing deeper with confusion. not like this? what did she mean by that? was she implying that this—this life, this marriage, this future she was about to walk into—wasn’t what she had hoped for?

but he knew better than to be presumptuous. the last time he'd done that, he’d assumed she would be there, waiting, standing beside him until the end of time. and look where that had gotten him. he had learned, painfully, that hope could be a dangerous thing when it wasn’t tempered by reality.

and for all he knew, maybe she wasn’t so much regretting her choices as she was adjusting to them. the end of a decade-long relationship. the move from a cozy one-bedroom flat to a grand, unfamiliar manor that seemed more like a cage than a home. an engagement. the pressure of it. the weight of the new, the unfamiliar. it had to leave her feeling a little unmoored, a little lost. after all, hadn’t it left him feeling the same way when he was forced to step into a future he never wanted?

so instead of speaking, of pressing her for answers he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear, sebastian did what he’d become so adept at doing in the last year: he held his tongue. he let the silence stretch between them, a thin, fragile line neither of them seemed willing to cross.

but then, after a long beat, her voice broke through the quiet, softer than before, hesitant and unsure.

“i mean... i…” she hesitated for a fraction of a second, her fingers twisting slightly around the diamond ring. “i just miss going out on adventures, taking down bad guys, the daily prophet reporting about my adventures. i’m sorry, i know, i sound so green-eyed.”

“well, if it’s any consolation,” he said, trying to lighten the mood, “i think you were in a witch weekly article.”

she elbowed him lightly, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “not a consolation. you know i don’t like being treated like a celebrity.”

“moot point when you’ve got a whole wingding for a marriage that hasn’t even happened yet.”

she rolled her eyes, a hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. “oh, hush. it wasn’t my idea. if anything, i was against this whole thing but a husband's word is the law.”

her words were casual enough, but there was something beneath them—a quiet fatalism that rang through her tone, as though she had long since stopped fighting against the roles others had set for her. it was so unlike her. the woman he had known would have never allowed herself to be so... tame. it made him wonder if, had she heard him say that, would she still have hexed him like how her normal reaction would have been?

she had always been a force in her own right—a woman who did things her way, consequences be damned. and for all his own reservations about this hector, sebastian couldn’t deny there was a certain respect in the way she spoke of him. no, not respect—submission. it was the resignation of someone who had, for better or for worse (pun unintended), accepted their fate.

well, if it had been him—if he had been the one to give her that ring—things would have been different.

oh. there it was again—champagne clouding his judgement, making him think of what-ifs. but really, how much longer could he hold onto the intoxicating delusion that things could still be different? and most of all, how much longer can one blame the champagne?

sebastian set his glass down on the railing, the crystal making a sharp, definitive clink that cut through the silence. the sound seemed to echo, as though marking a turning point in the conversation, a shift in the air between them.

“i ought to warn hector,” he said, the playful edge to his voice sharpening in the thick air. “you can be quite scary when things don’t go your way. i remember once, ominis asked you to stop breaking and entering into random homes, and what did you do? used a very advanced locking charm to lock him out of his own apartment. took him days to get back inside. perhaps i should share that delightful story with your fiancée.”

her eyes narrowed slightly, but the smile that tugged at her lips betrayed a knowing amusement. “oh, i’m sure hector would enjoy that just as much as he’d enjoy the scolding he'd give me after,” she said, her voice smooth but tinged with something heavier. “he’s a man of strong opinions—loves to hold court on matters of... propriety. and best believe, he doesn't sway easily.”

“ah, but you forget my irresistible charm. you were the most relentless person i know, and it worked on you, didn’t it?”

“more like it wore me down.”

“same thing.”

she laughed. actually, more like guffawed. the sound bubbled up from her chest and filled the space between them, louder and freer than he’d heard in ages.

for a moment, everything seemed to fall away—the lingering heartbreak of their separation, the party, the expectations, the wretchedness of it all. they were just two people, lost in the simplicity of shared history, the ease of old comfort.

her shoulder brushed his, the smallest of touches. sebastian hadn’t even realized how close they’d gotten, how their space had slowly shrunk until they were practically leaning into each other. he could feel the warmth of her next to him, the quiet rhythm of her breathing.

it made his head spin and he didn't know what to blame this time. was it the champagne he’d been nursing all night? or perhaps the party had made him stir crazy? maybe he’s gotten a cold from all this biting air? all he knew was that if she were any closer, he would surely die. but in that same breath, he didn’t want it to stop. he didn't want the dizzying rush of this feeling to end. to be this close to her, so near, so... alive—if this was what death felt like, he would die happy. hell, he'd beg for it.

and it seemed the universe, in all its cruel, whimsical glory, did indeed want him to die. because in the next breath, she moved again—just a slight shift, but it was enough. her head, soft and weightless, found its place against his shoulder, a gentle pressure that sent a shiver through him, down to his very bones.

it was a dangerous thing, this proximity. it made him ache for the things he couldn't have anymore. but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t mind the pain.

“i haven’t laughed this much in a while,” she said, her voice almost dreamy. “i forgot how easily you could do that.”

“you know for someone so talkative, you're awfully quiet today.” she added.

sebastian exhaled, trying to force a chuckle past the lump in his throat. “ah, well... it’s not every day i come to my ex’s engagement party."

the words were dry and brittle, a thin veil over the mess of feelings roiling beneath. he could feel the weight pressing down on him, his usual charm lost to the quiet ache that had been building ever since he’d walked into this damned party.

she looked up at him, her head leaving his shoulder. sebastian fought the urge to wince at the loss of contact. he hated how it made him feel—small, like a child caught in the act of wanting something he could never have. a pathetic little loser, lost in his own head.

“right. the party,” she said, her voice distant now, like she was already stepping away, back to the world she was now leashed to. “i should get back in there.”

sebastian could feel the words coiling in his throat, but he couldn’t make them come. the lump was too heavy, the ache too deep. he didn’t want to stop her, didn’t want to be the one to hold her in this fleeting moment, knowing it was already slipping away. so he simply nodded.

she nodded back, a small, quiet acknowledgment. and in that brief exchange, something shifted—like a subtle current pulling them together without either of them willing to fight it. they were both standing still, suspended in the space between them, as though the world around them had melted into a blur. neither could look away. their gazes locked, drawn together by the gravity of everything unspoken, everything left unresolved.

for a long moment, there was only the sound of their breathing, quiet and steady, as though time itself had momentarily paused. sebastian could see the subtle flicker of emotion in her eyes, the fragility of it. the distance between them was vast, but in that instant, it felt narrower than it ever had before. she wasn’t just the woman he’d lost; she was a stranger, yet also someone he knew more intimately than anyone else in the world.

her lips parted, but no words came. it was as though they were both afraid to break the fragile tension that hummed between them. they were too fixed on each other’s eyes, as if speaking would shatter something delicate, something that might never exist again.

but then the sound of the balcony doors opening broke the stillness. a shift in the air, sharp and unwelcome, as if the universe itself was demanding they face the reality neither of them wanted to acknowledge. the doors clicked shut behind the intruder.

“brother, i knew you’d be sulking out here,” came anne’s voice, sharp and too bright. sebastian turned, his jaw tightening at the sound of her footsteps.

her eyes caught the two of them, lingering just long enough to read the unspoken, heavy weight of the moment. then, her expression flickered, a mix of surprise and amusement, as if she were watching something she couldn’t quite comprehend.

“did i interrupt something?” anne asked, a sly edge to her words, as if she could see through the mask they both wore, but was too polite to say anything more.

before sebastian could even process a response, the woman in front of him beat him to it.

“oh, not at all,” she said quickly, brushing past him to put her shoes back on. her voice was light, but there was something strained about it now—an effort to keep her composure intact. as if she was already slipping back into the role she’d rehearsed for the evening. “i was just heading out.”

anne, ever the enigma, chirped with forced cheer. “oh, by the way, congratulations on your engagement!”

“thank you, anne,” she replied, her tone measured, smooth—too smooth.

with the speed at which her mask snapped back on, sebastian felt as if he'd just gone through the looking glass. the moment between them, that fragile flicker of rawness, shattered the second she spoke. the real her, the woman he’d known, was gone—swallowed by a perfect, polished version of herself. he could almost hear the click as the walls went back up, soundproof and impervious.

but just as she turned to leave, her eyes flicked back to sebastian, and for a split second, there was a crack in that mask. a fleeting moment of something raw, something unguarded. the way she looked at him made his chest tighten, the kind of look that carried a thousand unspoken words, a thousand regrets.

her lips parted as if she wanted to say something—anything—but she didn’t. the silence between them grew thick, heavy with all the things they never said and probably never would.

instead, he grabbed his champagne glass, fingers trembling just slightly as he raised it to his lips, swallowing the rest of it in one smooth, numbing gulp. anything to chase away the taste of the moment, anything to erase the feeling of her gaze and touch.

“excuse me,” she murmured, her voice soft and distant, as if this whole thing—this entire exchange—had already been written. she brushed past anne with the grace of someone who had long ago perfected the art of walking away, leaving sebastian with nothing but the bitter aftertaste of champagne and the cold, aching silence.

they say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. but sebastian knew the truth. watching her walk away, the woman he had loved with everything in him, the woman who had been his world before it all crumbled—it didn’t make him stronger. it just made him feel dead. and drunk.

or maybe it was just the champagne.

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