#but no it's that little comment in a sea of silence that speaks so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wileys-russo · 2 months

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filling the void (5) II a.putellas x sister!reader

prequel one two three four

warning for just like...a lot of angst? but also, some more steps forward and a little comfort filling the void (5) II a.putellas x sister!reader

"because the last time someone i loved when into hospital, he never came back."

after hearing that alexia's blood ran cold and she stepped away, wanting to give you a little privacy as her ears burned from already having heard too much.

she settled herself on the lounge trying to focus on finding something to watch, pretending like she wasn't fighting every temptation to grab you and pull you into a hug and never ever let go again.

a short while later you returned, alexia glancing at you and trying not to notice the obvious tear tracks on your face as you mumbled something about using the bathroom and darted away.

washing your face you spared no time going through your usual skin care routine, trying to shake the piercing anxiety in the back your head about your mami and her condition.

you padded into your room and with the weather taking an oddly cool turn tonight you rummaged around your wardrobe looking for your favourite hoodie.

you let out a squeal as you tugged at something and suddenly a bag tumbled down onto your head. swearing under your breath you bent down to repack its contents, making a mental note that you needed to donate the old clothes inside you'd had sitting there for far too long.

but it was something entirely unexpected that had your breath catching, having forgotten about it all together since you'd stuffed it into the bag intending to donate it alongside your clothing you'd grown out of.

you sat cross legged on the floor holding it in your hands, staring at it as memories flooded your mind and you were so caught up in them you didn't even hear alexia call out to check you were okay after hearing the thump of the bag falling.

when you didn't respond she came to check on you, her head peering around your doorway and curious hazel eyes softening as they found you. calling out again you didn't hear her, only becoming somewhat aware of your sisters presence as she carefully took a seat beside you, not too close but still enough that you knew she was there.

seeing the turmoil of emotions flashing through your eyes as you stared at it in your hands once again alexia wanted nothing more than to wrap you in a bone crushing hug and never let you go again, determined to protect you from the world and all the pain that came with it.

but the warnings of both her mami and her girlfriend echoed in her mind and she ignored the itching in her hands to reach for you, knowing that especially now more than ever she needed to let you come to her.

her own eyes falling on the object clutched tightly in your hands brought forth an entire sea of unique memories and emotions for your sister, at first taking her back to a time in which you needed her and she needed you just as much if not more.

and when you'd all lost him was a feeling that no amount of time passed would ever make alexia forget.

she'd been stood at his bed with alba by her side, holding his hand and telling him about the match she'd played that afternoon and the goal she'd scored and dedicated to him.

he'd smiled tiredly but barely had the energy to hold his eyes open let alone speak, and neither alexia or alba could stand the silence so they made sure never to allow it to grow, filling every quiet pocket with a new story or comment.

eli was sat in the chair on his other side, hand settled on his head and a watchful eye on a much younger you who was sat on the floor playing with a handful of matchbox cars, the small pieces of metal some of the only reminders you'd have of your papi as you grew older.

he had a friend at work whose wife worked in the factory where they were made, and every now and then he'd come home and gift you with a new one.

growing up a family of three kids meant you weren't always rewarded with the luxury of new toys or new books or new games, all three of you lived in hand me downs or homemade clothes for most of your childhood, not that you minded.

"fresa." eli warned softly as you made a rather loud noise mimicking an engine, smashing one of the cars into the leg of the chair you were sat by and nearly toppling it over, catching her eye and falling quiet.

you were again far too young to understand the truth of what was happening, and as you grew older your family all fell into a silent agreement that perhaps they'd kept you a little too sheltered around what was really going on.

which was why when a large group of family members arrived, visitors having been in and out all day saying their prayers or goodbyes, you looked up in confusion. you frowned as one of your tio's pinched your cheek hello and his wife gave you a weird watery smile.

your confusion grew as the crowd of people around your papi all fussed over him, some of them with tears in their eyes as one of your tia's began to pray, tightly holding your mami's hand.

"hey fresita, lets go for a walk?" you met your eldest sisters eye as she now crouched down beside you, a tired smile on her face as she sensed you were beginning to become overwhelmed at not understanding what was going on.

as you nodded your sister lifted you up and onto her hip, aware you were starting to become a little bigger and heavier but still she would hold and carry you for as long as you let her.

"my cars." you struggled for a moment in her grip as she let you down, kneeling and opening the backpack she'd packed for you when eli couldn't, zipping it up once your cars were safely inside and helping you shrug it on before picking you up again

"alba, venga hermana." alexia softly tapped her younger sisters shoulder who had moved aside to allow older family members to be by the bedside, hugging herself and stood in the corner.

eli caught her eldest daughter eye as she finished her prayer, sending her an appreciative smile before her attention was captured again and alexia left the room, you on her hip and alba tucked into her side.

not a word was said between the three of you as alexia tried to ignore the sad looks tossed your way by the nurses at the ward desk as you passed, knowing all too well which room you'd come from and the inevitable outcome which could happen any day now.

"can we get food?" you finally broke the silence, a small chuckle leaving both your sisters mouths as you all stepped into the elevator. "sí pequeña, we can get food." alexia bounced you as you smiled and nodded.

"mami usually brings snacks when we go out." the seemingly innocent and harmless comment had the air sucked right out of the confined space of the elevator, both of your sisters faces hardening.

"mami is just looking after papi right now fresa. but you will always have me and alba to look after you, vale?" alexia promised firmly, kissing your cheek as you nodded, her smile growing just slightly as you kissed her cheek in return.

"thats why you're my best friend ale." you yawned a little tiredly, head resting on her shoulder as the elevator opened now reaching the ground floor. "hey what about me?" alba protested, moving to your other side and poking at you making you grin and push her hand away.

"alexia is my best friend, you're alexias best friend, and im your best friend." you explained as alba ohh'd with an over enthusiastic nod. "what if you're not my best friend?" she teased with a smile as you frowned unhappily.

"only joking fresita, you might be annoying but you will always be my best friend." alba smiled as you huffed. "you're annoying, and old and grumpy." you stuck your tongue out which she returned.

"yeah? well when you're older and grumpier i promise to be just as annoying as you are and we'll see how you like it!" you squirmed as her fingers tickled your sides and you kicked your legs at her, alexia smiling at the interaction and kissing your head.

placing you down she gave alba some money and sent her off to the canteen to get some food for the three of you, noticing that the moment she put you down you hugged her leg, eyes roaming the hospital nervously.

she couldn't blame you, alexia hated it here and she knew what it meant. for you this was probably much more overwhelming, not understanding anything but easily able to pick up on the chaos of it all.

there were women crying, children yelling, nurses and doctors talking in serious tones with serious faces, machines beeping, weird smells, beds with wheels being pushed around and very tired looking people sleeping on them.

just last week you'd accidentally seen a man be wheeled past whose leg was split wide open down to the bone, eli barely able to cover your eyes in time as he was rushed past and you were quickly handed over to alba who raced you outside for some fresh air as your eyes filled with tears.

so as you clung to her leg and stared around clearly on the brink of distress your sister tugged gently on your collar gaining your attention as you looked up at her and she nodded her head forward, taking your hand and walking.

alexia walked the two of you in the direction of the gift store, scooping you back up onto her hip as she entered and sent the woman at the counter a small smile.

"we gettin something for papi?" you questioned with a small frown as alexia shook her head. "no, for you." she poked at your nose, soft smile growing as your face lit up. "really?" you asked happily as alexia nodded and walked the pair of you around for awhile.

"what about this?" alexia grabbed a small red bear she spied hidden beneath a pile of stuffed animals, balancing you on her hip with one hand as she held it up with the other.

"its red like a strawberry!" you chirped happily in approval making your sister laugh. "you and your strawberries. no wonder we call you fresa, you will one day turn into a strawberry." you giggled as she poked at your stomach but handed you the bear.

"will not!" "will too!" "will not!" "will too."

"what are you gonna name it nena?" alexia questioned once she'd paid for the small bear and placed you back down on your feet, one of your hands securely held in hers as the other hugged your new friend and the two of you headed toward the canteen to find alba.

"red." you stated as alexia gave you a funny look. "you are calling it red?" your sister questioned as you again nodded, giving it a kiss and tucking it under your arm.

"thats a colour though hermanita, don't you want to give it a real name?" alexia asked as you shook your head. "red is a real name! its her name." you were undeterred, spotting alba and trying to run toward her but your sisters grip on your hand prevented so.

"no running please fresa, not here." alexia warned gently as you nodded and hugged red, mumbling an apology as your sister brushed a few stray flyaway hairs out of your face.

"look!" you presented your new friend to your other sister who scooted her chair back, allowing you to climb up and into her lap as alexia sat across from her, a tray of food sat on the table in between them.

"her name is red, ale got her for me." you proudly announced as alba snickered. "red? thats just st-" the girl started, hissing as alexia kicked her under the table and shot her a warning look. "thats very cute fresita." alba looked down at your tiny hopeful face and pinched your cheek, kissing your forehead and encouraging you to eat.

once the three of you finished your food you made your way back toward the room, your new little friend working wonders to brighten your mood as you chattered your sisters ears off, your hand again held tightly in alexias much larger one to stop you running off.

though as you all arrived and alexia heard the sound of eli's sobs, clearly taking a private moment with her husband now she was alone with him, alexia stopped in her tracks as her stomach lurched hearing the foreign noise.

of course everyone had cried the moment he fell sick, even more when despite the best efforts it was deemed terminal and there was no longer anything that could be done, it was just a matter of waiting as the days passed and his condition deteriorated.

knowing that not with bad intentions your chatter and questions would likely make things worse alexia didn't continue forward, exchanging a look with alba as they held a quick silent conversation and nodded in agreement.

"hey i wanna see mami and papi." you frowned as alexia turned and headed back for the elevator, near dragging you with her now as you fought to tug your hand free.

"i wanna show them red! ale stop, let go!" your sister winced at the sob you let out when she didn't do as you asked. instead she pulled you with her and alba back to the elevator, your cries echoing throughout the ward as alba nudged her and as soon as alexia let go you tried to run but alba was faster.

"no! put me down! no no!" you struggled in her grip, your arms pinned to your side as you tried hitting out at her, not understanding why they wouldn't let you go back to the room as instead you were back in the elevator again.

"hey hey fresa, look at me nena por favor." your body heaved as you sniffled and choked back a sob, alexia cradling your face in her heads which had gone bright red. "breathe hermana, in and out." she cooed softly as you hiccuped and shook your head.

"i wanna see mami!" you choked out, alba rubbing gently at your back. "mami needs some adult time with papi, you can see her later promesa." alexia promised, swiping at the tears which leaked from the corners of your eyes.

"now." you huffed stubbornly as alexia shook her head. "no fresa, later. there is a garden here, do you want to go see it?" you hesitated at that, albas hand still rubbing at your back as you slowly nodded.

"okay. now can you breathe please hermanita? in and out." again your sister demonstrated as you copied, yours a little shakier as by the time you all exited the elevator you'd calmed yourself down a little with her help.

the three of you walked in silence out to the small courtyard garden in the middle of the hospital, alba putting you down as her and alexia sat down at a bench and you wandered off with red still in their sights.

a sniffle broke the silence which still grew between them, alexia glancing to her side to see her younger sister wiping at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, head turned away from her.

"ven aquí hermana." alexia spoke softly, lifting her arm and pulling the younger girl into a tight hug, her head resting on alexia's shoulder as the sniffles continued, the eldest putellas fighting back tears of her own knowing now she needed to be strong.

alba hurried to try and hide her tears as you returned but you'd already seen them, frowning up at her as she tried to smile. "you sad?" you asked your sister as alexia lifted you up to stand on the bench in between them.

"a little, estoy bien." alba assured with another sniffle, taken a little off guard as you launched at her, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck. "its okay to be sad al." you patted her back making both girls smile.

you had always been an affection person especially when you were younger, your entire family quite affectionate it was no surprise but it was during this time that your hugs meant that little bit more even if you were too young to realise why.

"gracias fresita, te quiero." alba whispered, more tears welling up at the gesture as you hugged her tightly, red clutched in one hand. alexia watched on with a fond smile, still swallowing her own emotions and pushing them down for the sake of her sisters.

she was the eldest, it was her job to look after the two of you and make sure you were okay first, her needs came second and she was fine with that if it meant you and alba were as okay as you could be and knew that she would be there for both of you anytime and anyway needed.

but that didn't mean that you both didn't pick up on her needs every now and then too. which is exactly why when you deemed alba was okay your small form latched onto alexia next, arms slung around her neck as she squeezed you.

"estoy bien pequeña." alexia assured as you let go, your sister moving you to stand on her knees as your hands grabbed at her shoulders to steady yourself. "everyone needs a hug sometimes and you said mine are the best." you reminded making both girls chuckle.

"i did say that didn't i? and they are the very best fresa, the very very best."

your papi passed away in his sleep that night, and it was more than assured to say that your hugs were in high high demand.

"red." you finally spoke, still looking down at the bear in your hands as alexia hummed, meeting your eyes and sending you a small smile before your gaze dropped again.

a soft smile curled into your own features as your finger traced over the faded red bear, tugging gently at the small sweater which it wore that of course had a strawberry right in the centre. "i remember when abuela knitted that." alexia spoke up again nodding to the item of clothing.

"mami had to hand wash it because i kept trying to feed red strawberries and got it all dirty." you puffed air from your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you could manage now still swamped beneath the symphony of memories, thoughts and feelings washing down over you.

"abuela gave it to me at papi's funeral." you remembered, thumb rubbing small circles against a particularly faded patch of fur, just as you used to do whenever you were nervous about something and much much younger, always having red with you through it all.

another bout of silence fell between you two until eventually alexia decided to test the waters.

"can i ask you something hermana?" your sister asked gently as you nodded, still focused down on the bear in your hands not having paid it a single thought for a long time now, the moment you started to feel your sisters pulling away had red shoved out of sight as well, a little too painful in a different way all together than you had felt before.

"is it because of him that you don't want to go and see mami in hospital?" alexia didn't even need to specify who as your stomach clenched uncomfortably and the anxiety returned, your chest tightening a little.

you took a moment and for a second alexia feared she'd crossed a line, readying an apology but you nodded before she could say another word, a cocktail of both sadness and relief flooding her body.

"but i don-" you looked up and started as your sister shook her head, tentatively reaching a hand out to rest it on your shoulder, again relieved when you made no move to push it off.

"we do not need to talk about it now if you don't want to. but i meant what i said, you will always have me to look after you hermana. i have not been very good at showing that lately and i do not know how else to say sorry with words-" her hand moved slowly to rest on your cheek and again you made no move to push her away.

"-but i have to let my actions show it now. and i love you fresa, very much. mami will be okay, but i promise you that you would never ever be alone." you could only give a stiff nod at her words, your sister sensing you were slightly overwhelmed and removing her hand, slowly getting up to her feet.

"buenas noches hermana, i am just down the hall if you need anything." alexia promised softly as again you nodded, sending her a tiny smile but even that was reward enough for alexia as she left you and headed for her childhood room.

as everything crashed down on you your body plunged into exhaustion, forcing yourself up and kicking aside the bag of clothes, tiredly rubbing your eyes and closing your bedroom door with a soft click.

nobody would know but you, but as you slipped into bed and flicked off your lamp, red was clutched tightly in your hands as your eyes slammed shut and you fell into a dreamless sleep.

alexia on the other hand was wide awake, wandering around her childhood room which felt like a time capsule, hardly changed since the day she moved out.

rummaging through her wardrobe she froze seeing a faded nike box pushed up against the back, hidden behind a stack of old textbooks which she quickly moved out of the way, coughing slightly as she blew off the thin layer of dust which coated the top.

taking a seat on her bed she placed the box down in front of her, gingerly opening the top and her body going limp as it was confirmed the contents were indeed what she thought they might be.

before she had time to rifle through and look at anything her phone rang and she jumped in surprise, her girlfriends contact name and number flashing across the screen as alexia clicked answer.

"hola mi amor." the older girl greeted which was returned, the two catching up about their days as olga pretended not to notice that part of alexia asking so many questions about her girlfriends day was to avoid speaking much about hers.

though with some gentle prompting she opened up a little, olga listening attentively as she did. "red is an adorable name." olga chuckled in an attempt to ease the obvious emotional discourse the blonde was feeling after she'd explained the backstory to the small bear.

"its a colour, not a name mi vida." "you could argue that fresa is a fruit, not a name amor." olga countered, stunning alexia into silence for a moment. "see? you cannot disagree." her girlfriend laughed as alexia sighed but agreed none the less.

"then i found a box in my wardrobe, i forgot it was there but i tore my room apart when i moved trying to find it to take with me and i thought someone had thrown it away." alexia admitted as olga hummed.

"its my fresa box." the blonde murmured quietly, switching her girlfriend to facetime and propping her phone up on the nightstand and moving around a little.

"your fresa box?" olga encouraged her to elaborate but gently, not wanting to push her as she could clearly see the pain masked in her lovers eyes, her poker face unreadable to most but olga could always see right through it.

"sí. it has notes, drawings, holiday cards, pictures, all things she gave and made me when she was little." a fond smile curled into alexia's features as she carefully rifled through the box, holding things up to show her girlfriend whose own face was filled with joy at the sight.

"fresa wrote all of that?" olga asked with raised eyebrows and a grin as alexia finished reading out an essay you'd had to write in school about your hero, and you'd chosen alexia.

"oh mi amor." olgas tone softened seeing the singular tear escaped the corner of her lovers eye, quickly wiped away as alexia cleared her throat. "hey, ale. don't do that, you don't need to run away from your feelings with me." olga promised as alexia attempted to change subject.

"i just-" alexia tried to speak but could only shake her head, no words coming out despite just how much she had to say. "you miss her cariño, sí?" olga echoed softly as alexia nodded.

"and this is probably how she has felt if not worse when she thought alba and i did not care about her anymore. i made her feel like this! my fresa." alexia managed out, eyes squeezed shut as she inhaled shakily, her girlfriend encouraging her to breathe slowly while still assuring it was okay for her to feel this way, it was okay for her to cry.

"she loves you alexia, she always will. you know how you made her feel which is why you will not let it happen again, and you have the rest of your life to prove that to her amor." olga promised sincerely as alexia nodded, wiping quickly at the corner of her eye with the collar of her shirt.

"i remember this." alexia was even faster to change topics, grabbing out a drawing as her girlfriend watched three or four different emotions flicker through her hazel eyes before she turned the page.

"your tattoo." olga smiled in recognition as alexia nodded, the drawing in question one you'd done for her not long after juame had passed and you'd returned to school, still not quite understanding that he wouldn't be coming home again.

alexia's head was covered with a hood, ignoring the pitying looks of the parents around her who had obviously heard what happened, hoping the scowl on her face would ward off any attempts at talking to her.

though it melted the moment she locked eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your eyes lit up and you sprinted toward her, seemingly never any less excited to see her despite the fact she picked you up from school practically every day.

"catch me!" alexia bent down and scooped you up as you dropped your backpack and leapt at her, but she didn't spin you around like normal and gently pushed away your hand when you tried to pull her hood down to see her properly.

"you're not going to football?" you asked a little confused as why your sister wasn't dressed for training like normal and she shook her head wordlessly, grabbing your backpack in her free hand and quickly leaving before anyone had the chance to try and talk to her.

though apparently she wasn't fast enough as someone called out her name and she sighed recognizing your teacher waving her down as she lingered at the school gates and contemplated for a moment just making a run for it.

"stay here please fresa." you were placed back down on your feet and the oddly serious tone of your sisters voice had you rooted in place as alexia stepped away for a moment to speak with your teacher.

"lo siento for the bother alexia, i was going to call your mami but i am sure there is a lot going on at home." the woman started gently as alexia gave a tight lipped smile and crossed her arms across her chest, keeping one eye on you over the womans shoulder as one of your classmates had wandered over to chat with you.

"look i just-your hermana drew something in class today, a picture of your family." the woman started as alexia's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "she draws every day." her reply was sharp, clearly thinking this was a waste of time.

"no no lo siento, a picture of all your family. i complimented her on it and she said it was all of you in heaven visiting your papi, and that she really hoped you would all be able to go there to see him there soon." the womans words were much softer now and concern was clear in her eyes for what the younger girls reaction would be who stayed silent.

"i didn't want to overstep by correcting her. but alexia, if you or your familia need anything, please know i am here." the woman promised as alexia swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded, mumbling out a quiet gracias and turning quickly to head back toward you.

"venga fresa." your sister held her hand out which you grabbed, waving goodbye to your friends as the two of you left the school, alexia stuck in her thoughts and only half listening as you started to chatter on about your day as you always would.

"ale." she came to at a tug on her sleeve, looking down at you. "lo siento nena, what did you need?" she stopped walking and bent down to your height with a tired smile which didn't reach her eyes as you pointed to your backpack.

presenting it to you you unzipped it, shoving your arm in and feeling around with a frown before pulling out an apple as alexia made a face. "fresa i packed this for you on monday!" she cringed plucking it from your hand and glancing around before tossing it into a bush.

"i drew this for you." you finally found what you were looking for, offering her a piece of paper. swallowing hard alexia's eyes roamed the artwork and a lump formed in her throat as your teachers words came to fruition.

"its you and me and alba and mami and papi in heaven! you were sad this morning so i drew it for you. maybe we can go see papi in heaven today? i did a drawing for him too." your little face was filled with such innocence and hope it crushed alexia's heart like someone ran over her with a truck as she wanted to throw up.

"no lo siento fresa, we can't go see papi in heaven. but lets go for a walk in the park pequeña, i think we need to have a big girl talk."

"you had to explain heaven to her?" olga asked in disbelief as alexia sighed with a small shrug.

"someone had to. we all agreed as she got older we should have done more when he was sick to explain what was happening but...she was just so little, so happy, so innocent." alexia breathed out with a pained wince.

"she went out of her way even if she didn't understand why everyone was sad to try and cheer us up, i needed her and alba just as much as they needed me. mami was...she was grieving amor. she did her best but there was slack and i picked it up, i had to be there for them." alexia forced out a small smile as olga's face softened.

"but mi corazón, who was there for you?" the girl asked softly as alexia sighed again, fingers instinctively tucking under her shirt to trace the tattoo on her ribs.

the five of you in stick figure form holding hands, your drawing for your sister which was now and would always be with alexia inked to her skin, forever.

your day hadn't started as you'd hoped.

when you woke up your sleep last night had been anything but restful, waking up multiple times throughout the night as your chest tightened with anxiety the back of your eyes ached with exhaustion.

you'd quickly called in sick to work, a small smile on your face as your boss had joked he was almost going to cancel your shift if you didn't slow down to look after yourself before promising you'd be able to take all the time you needed.

word spread quickly through the clinic as texts of support poured in from your friends and coworkers, all encouraging you reach out should you need anything which you were very grateful for.

when your door was still closed two hours after you were supposed to have left for work alexias own body relaxed a little, relieved you were finally taking a day for yourself and stepping outside onto the balcony to have a coffee and make a few phone calls.

your sister was surprised that when she returned you were awake, your back to her as you made a coffee of your own. though soon as it was done with a tired smile you headed back to your own room again.

alexia gave you your own space until lunch time, knocking at your door as you responded and she pushed it open.

"do you want to go get sushi for lunch?" your sister questioned, knowing you hadn't eaten all day she already had back ups in mind if you declined but to her shock you gave her a nod, asking for some time to shower and change.

you didn't say a word the entire car ride clearly lost in your own head, barely batting an eyelash as alexia pulled up in front of alba's house and your sister joined you in the car, sharing a look with alexia who subtly shook her head, the radio filling the silence of the journey.

but as you turned down a familiar road you seemed to come more to attention, pulling your head off the window and frowning, a small scoff leaving your mouth as alexia pulled into the hospital parking complex.

"funny looking sushi restaurant." you muttered sinking into your seat once alexia found a park. "i can't believe you lied to me." you shook your head angrily at the deception.

"i didn't. we will get sushi hermana, just after you see mami." alexia decreed as you shook your head again and crossed your arms. "im not getting out of the car." you refused stubbornly as alexia sighed.

"you will." "i won't." "you will." "i won't." "you will." "i won't."

"this is ridiculous. fresa, get out of the car!" alba intervened as you glanced to the back seat and shot her a filthy look which didn't deter her.

"alba." alexia gave her a look of her own as she backed down and got out of the car herself, closing the door and leaving you with your eldest sister.

"she's awake."

your head snapped sideways to look at her with a frown. "you're lying." you decided as alexia shook her head. "no, the hospital called me this morning. but i wanted to give you a little time to yourself first before we came, but she is awake and stable fresa, i promise." alexia assured softly as you wrenched your eyes away.

"she's not going anywhere hermanita, but we shouldn't keep her waiting, she's still very tired." alexia added on, reaching over to gently squeeze your knee before she opened her door.

you watched for a few minutes as your sisters spoke with one another, clearly about you as they glanced back to the car every few seconds with a shake or a nod, likely planning to drag you from the car themselves if you refused much longer.

so with an exhausted exhale you unbuckled yourself, hauling ass out of the car and closing the door, wordlessly following after your sisters toward the hospital.

the closer you got the more your stomach twisted and clearly your apprehension was written across your face as your sisters slowed just slightly to fall into step with you, now both stood protectively either side of your shorter form.

"can i go by myself?" you asked quietly as you all signed in and arrived to the coronary ward, glancing past them both to eli's room as they shared a look. "sure hermana, we'll be right out here if you need anything." alba promised as you nodded and they stepped aside, your legs feeling like jelly the closer you got to her room as they hung back watching you go.

it was as if you were a balloon and someone stuck a pin in you the moment you entered her room and caught her eye, deflating entirely and crumpling as you dragged yourself to her bed side.

"mami." you managed to whisper out, dropping into the chair by her side as she smiled tiredly and reached for you, your face buried into her shoulder as her hands cradled your head.

"mi hija pequeña." she spoke, her voice flooding your body with relief as tears welled up and you hugged her tightly, though still very carefully as you were more than away of the amount of wires which protruded from her skin.

"you're okay." you whispered again as you pulled back and wiped your eyes, eli smiling with a nod. "i am okay. not going anywhere hija, takes more than that to kill me." you knew it was a joke but you frowned, the older woman apologizing and pushing a loose strand of hair out of your eyes.

"i was so scared mami. you just...you collapsed, you weren't breathing, i didn't know what to do or how to help." your voice broke as you forced back the tears which were clawing their way up.

"but you did help fresita, you did everything right. but i am so sorry for scaring you mi hija, lo siento mucho." eli apologised, voice full of remorse as you shook your head dismissing it.

"no. i am just glad you're okay mami." you promised, taking her outstretched hand, your intertwined fingers resting on her mattress. at her request you filled her in on everything that had been going on the last few days, not leaving out many details as you never did, always the most honest with the woman you trusted more than anyone.

"oh nena i am not going anywhere, i promise." the womans own eyes near filled with tears as you managed to force out the story of finding red and all the turmoil of memories which had surfaced being back at the hospital all those years ago.

"mi fresa. i need to tell you some things, about some of my regrets in life." eli spoke softly, giving your hand a squeeze as you frowned in confusion but nodded for her to continue.

"even before your papi was sick i worked a lot, so did he. we needed the money so i took up night work, so did he. it meant i relied on your hermana's to look after each other but mostly after you, you were still so young and...well to look after someone that age can be a lot." eli started gently as you nodded for her to go on.

"then when your papi was sick i relied on them more, alexia especially. your hermana did for you things i should have done for you as your mami, she shouldered the responsibilities of a parent when she was barely a teenager and that was not fair on her fresa, i was not fair to put her in that position." eli paused to cough as you hurried to help her sit up a little more and grab her a glass of water which she sipped at and placed back down.

"when your papi passed i was grieving heavily, we all were. but again, alexia had responsibilities on her shoulders that were far too heavy, far too much for a teenager and a daughter herself. she took on not only her grief but also mine, and alba's, and yours, she stepped in when i pulled back. your hermana pushed her grief down and bottled up her feelings to care for everyone elses, she has always done so." eli explained again squeezing your hand.

"in a way i stole part of alexia's youth with how much responsibility was put on her, i never ever meant to, and i do not blame anyone but myself for not noticing sooner. it is something i have to learn to live with, and that your sister will never understand, to her its just...how it was, how she needed to be." eli continued as you stayed silent letting her speak.

"but fresa, alexia loves you more than anyone in the entire world, she has from the very second you were born. you were a gift to this family and alexia has always maybe looked at you as a little more than her hermana. i am not excusing how your sisters made you feel mi fresita, but if you hear them out you might find they did not mean to make you feel that way." eli seemed to finish with that as you could only nod, choking back tears and afraid if you attempted to speak that dam would break all together.

"so promise me you will hear them out." you again nodded at that, eli raising your adjoined hands to her mouth and softly kissing your hand before you leaned in to hug her again, head resting against her chest and closing your eyes, memorizing the sound of her heartbeat as her hand ran through your hair.

"te quiero hija mia."

promising to be back tomorrow and to send your sisters in next you'd quickly darted off to the bathroom to rinse your face and take a moment to yourself, overwhelmed with emotion as you bit down on your shirt to stop your sobs being audible.

after a few minutes you'd calmed enough to regulate your breathing, rinsing your face again and exhaling, wincing at your reflection but leaving the ward bathroom.

you found alba sat where you'd left her, alexia nowhere to be seen.

"i think she went to call olga." alba shrugged as you questioned her whereabouts, checking you were okay as you nodded and she hurried off to see eli, all of you having been warned by the doctor that having just woken up she would obviously be exhausted and likely need to rest soon.

you waited around for awhile but when alexia didn't return you decided to look for her, eventually seeing the back of her tall figure at the end of the hallway where there was a small kitchenette with tea and coffee for visistors, nobody else around.

though as you grew closer you soon realised why your sister had made sure that was the case, hearing the tears in her voice as she held the phone to her ear.

"-and sí i know mami is okay now but its just bringing back all of the memories from before and i was so worried that she would not wake up and-" feeling eyes on her back you shrunk as alexia's head whipped around and spotted you.

quickly murmuring something and hanging up the phone she furiously wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, trying to cover up the fact she'd been crying as she sent you a forced smile.

"how was-" alexia didn't get another word out before you'd closed the gap between the two of you and your body barreled into hers, your arms wrapping around her in a tight hug as your sister almost fell over not having expected this in a million years.

it took a moment for her to register what was happening before her arms wrapped around you in turn, your face pressed into her shoulder as the two of you just held one another in silence, both needing it just as much as the other did.

"i love you alexia."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

six

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #🍓☀️

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aemondsbabe · 6 months

Text

Ñuha Zaldrīzes

summary: future & facesitting || discussing wishes for your baby with your husband turns into something more

pairing: daemon targaryen x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, pregnant reader, oral sex (f receiving), allusions to piv sex, dirty talk, daemon being soft and loving we love to see it, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: happy day eight of 12 days of smuff!!! surely this counts as future otherwise i'd have them fucking in a spaceship & that just didn't sit right with me

12 days of smuff masterlist!

gif creds to @pedropcl

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

A soft giggle bursts from your lips as Daemon’s hand skirts over your large belly yet again, his soft touches tickling your skin as his hand ghosts lovingly over your bump, the delicate lacy fabric of your nightgown bunched around his wrist.

“Okay, okay, so,” you say breathily, finally calming down as his touch seems to settle on your hip, “If it’s a little girl, perhaps Vaenera? And for a little boy… Vaenor?” You suggest, your breath warm against the prince’s neck as you rest your cheek against his shoulder, tucked safely into his side atop your silk covered bed.

“I still think we should name her Visenya,” the blond drawls, tracing soothing patterns into your hip as he holds you against him, “With a nice strong name like that, she will grow to greatness.”

You stay silent for a moment, your eyes locked onto the fluid movements of the sheer curtains that lead out onto the balcony, watching as they blow in the breeze carried in by the Narrow Sea. Daemon can’t help but notice you still against him and he smiles softly when he sees that familiar, far off look in your eyes – always his dreamer.

“Where did you go?” He asks gently, all traces of the usual brash, cocky tone with which he speaks gone.

“Nowhere,” you smile, tilting your head up to peer at him through your lashes, “I was merely thinking of what kind of person this little one will grow up to be.” You stroke a hand over your belly as you speak, your smile only growing as you feel a soft, barely there kick against your palm.

“If they’re even half as kind and gentle as their mother, the world will be a much better place with them in it,” your husband whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A pink blush blooms across the apples of your cheeks, as it always does when he speaks so tenderly.

“And if they’re half as hard headed as their father, well… somehow, I will love them all the more,” you whisper, laughing yet again as Daemon trails his fingers over your side, tickling you purposefully this time.

“Me, hard headed?” He teases, laughing along with you, “I’m not the one that nearly sent the kitchens into a tailspin this evening when they demanded duck, now am I?” His violet eyes sparkled in the low light of the candles that flickered around the room, a teasing smirk etched across his face.

“That’s very unfair!” You giggle, leaning up to properly look at him. “You know how I am when I’m with child,” you huff, your blush only deepening when you see his eyes darken just slightly as his gaze flits over you, “Especially once it’s this far along; all I want is roast duck and–”

“And lemon cakes at every meal,” Daemon finishes for you, softly smiling, “Yes, sweetling, the entire castle is most aware.” He chuckles.

“Then the kitchens should know to have duck, that’s all I’m saying…” You grumble, sinking back down into his embrace. The two of you relax into a comfortable silence for many minutes, your husband’s breathing so steady and calm that you assume he’s fallen asleep. When he speaks again, his soft voice almost startles you.

“The kitchens did particularly well with the lemon cakes this evening…”

Your eyebrows furrow together at the statement and you lift your head again, meaning to give him a confused stare. The cakes were exceptionally good this evening, but you can’t help but notice the teasing lilt in his voice.

You open your mouth to speak, but the darkness in Daemon’s eyes gives you pause, a breathy, barely audible whimper escaping your lips before you have a chance to stop it.

“However, I can’t help but be in the mood for a much different type of dessert, little wife.” He says lowly, gently pulling you up until your faces are level, careful to be ever conscious of your growing stomach.

“Daemon –” You start, only to be cut off with a searing kiss as he presses his lips to yours. You whimper against his lips, your head already spinning in his embrace as his tongue toys with yours.

“It’s been so long,” he starts, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, nibbling at one spot that always has you seeing stars, “Since you’ve let me have what I want.”

“H-Husband,” you gasp breathlessly, your nails digging helplessly into his chest as you cling to him, “You had me just this, Gods, this morning for breakfast, if you’ll recall.” You managed to say between whimpers and gasps as he practically feasted on the sensitive spot on your neck, his hands softly kneading and caressing your breasts.

He makes a small, displeased hum before he pulls back to look at you, his dark eyes studying you carefully before a small smirk grows on his lips, “You know very well that’s not what I’m after.”

Your eyes widen just slightly as you finally catch his meaning; you shake your head with a small chuckle. “Surely you can’t be serious,” your smile fades as he holds your stare with a small, unchanging smirk, “Daemon, I’ll crush you!”

“And what an honorable death that would be, sweet wife,” he chuckles, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he lifts you up and onto his lap, your head spins as you feel his already hard length pressing against you through the thin linen breeches he has on, “I’ll be fine, it’s not as if this is exactly new territory for us…” He teases, gently skirting his hands over your belly.

“We’ve never done it when I’ve been… like this, though,” you shyly point out, looking down at your bump.

“Do you really not see how insatiable I become every time you’re with child?” Daemon asks, his voice soft and gentle, “I will only ever have you like this a scant few times. Please, sweetling, let me savor it.”

Biting your lip, you gaze down at him, eyes trailing across his bare chest and shoulders and up the strong column of his neck before they finally settle on his face – the look in his eyes nearly making you gasp. His violet eyes are fixed on you, roaming over your body with so much love and adoration that you feel as if you may melt from it.

Before you even register the movement, you’re nodding.

Daemon’s eyes instantly flick up to yours, sparkling with victory. His hands grip your hips again, gently guiding you up his muscular form as he silently thanks the Seven that you wear nothing beneath your Myrish lace nightgowns. A loud groan practically bursts from the prince’s chest once you’re positioned over his face; he loves being surrounded by you — loves the way your soft thighs bracket his head, the way you position your dripping center perfectly over his mouth, and the way the only thing he sees when he looks up is your belly, swollen with his seed, his child.

If it were up to Daemon, he would happily spend the rest of his days here.

Your chest heaves as you grip the headboard of the bed, your heart hammering in your chest from the anticipation of it. You whimper softly as his hands, rough from so many years of sword fighting and dragon riding, grab at your thighs and hips.

He presses soft, sweet kisses to the inside of your thighs before licking a slow, steady line up your center; you can feel him smirk triumphantly against you as moans and whimpers spill from your lips.

“Oh, Gods, Daemon!” You gasp, voice already ragged as you white-knuckle the headboard. Your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself even a fraction of an inch above your husband’s face, something he notices quite quickly. A displeased growl rumbles from his chest, making you pant as it vibrates against your core.

“Fucking sit,” Daemon rasps, tugging you against his mouth, his tongue roughly spearing into you as he grinds your pearl against his nose, hands moving your hips against his face.

Your mind all but whites out as he rocks you against him, nose and tongue working in perfect tandem to send shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeeze shut, frantic moans pouring from your mouth as a fire steadily builds within you.

“H-Husband,” you pant, walls clenching tightly around his tongue as he groans into your heat, “I— Fuck, I’m—!” You can hardly get the words out as Daemon seals his lips around your sensitive bud, suckling it at a maddening pace as his hands move down to cup your ass, kneading it roughly.

Your face flushes at the slick sounds pouring from between your thighs as the prince growls against you, sounding as if he’s gaining as much satisfaction as you are. Your core clenches at the thought, pleasure threatening to consume you.

“Daemon!” You cry urgently, shaking above him, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. You want so badly to thread your fingers through his hair as you normally would, but you can’t even see his face around your protruding belly.

He groans loudly beneath you once more and fucks his tongue back into you, causing the knot in your belly to pull tightly before finally unraveling. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, your back arching as your whole body tenses and relaxes in time with his movements.

The prince moans appreciatively, messily drinking down your pleasure as you peak on top of him. You jump when one of his hands smacks against your ass, the tingling sting extending your release, the intensity of it nearly making you go mad.

Finally, once your signs of relief have turned into whimpers of overstimulation, Daemon releases you with a pleased hum, helping you shuffle back down his body until you’re straddling his hips once again.

You laugh softly at the sight of him — his cheeks flushed a light pink, hair sticking up at odd angles, and a pleased, self-satisfied grin on his face.

“You look as if you were the one who was ravished, my dragon,” you tease, your heart rate slowly returning to normal as you trace over the muscular dips in his chest and stomach.

The prince chuckles lowly, his violet eyes still dark with lust as he takes in your curves. “Ravishing you is a pleasure in and of itself, sweet wife,” he drawls, smirking as you gasp at the feel of his cock against your sensitive core as he rolls his hips against you, “I trust you’ll allow me to feel it again?” He asks, that all too familiar cocky tone back, as if asking is merely a formality.

Sighing happily, you bite your lip as you stare down at him, the knot in your belly beginning to tighten again as you feel his length pressing hotly to you.

“I believe that can be arranged.”

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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luvyeni · 1 year

Text

AUDIENCE; JEONGSUNG

pairings. meandom!jeongin x subfem!reader x sub!jisung

wc. 905

warnings. established relationship, exhibitionism, degradation (f and m receiving bro jeongin is mean), rough sex, pvssy slapping (twice i think), light bondage, mentions of edging and overstimulation, han cums untouched.

authors note. mini skirt anon this is for you <3!

damn this might be one of my fav works so far.

fucking around with jisung, not knowing it was gonna fuck both of you over in the end.

—

after the skirt incident you'd thought jeongin would've gotten over the comments jisung made, but clearly he didn't, and seeing you and him being all close when you invited him to play video games together really set him off.

you already knew it was over for you the minute he whispered into your ear to go to the room and strip; complying immediately, pausing the game, excusing yourself, you thought he was gonna make up an excuse for han to leave.

so it was much to your suprise when your boyfriend basically manhandled his elder into the room, pushing him into the chair in front of your bed.

you tried to cover your parts, only for jeongin to slap your hands away. "no don't be shy now, let him see, you had no issue showing him your tits earlier, let him see that pretty cunt to." he spoke with such dominance, as he spreaded your legs apart.

"keep them away, or i'll smack your little pussy." he growled, turning to jisung, who sat almost frozen in his seat.

"doesn't she looks so pretty like doesn't she hyung, spread out like a little slut." jisung silence pissed him off, be grabbed the older boys jaw, forcing him to look him in the eyes.

"speak when spoken to hyung." it was shocking seeing the older boy allow him to handle him like that. "y..yes." he spoke, voice muffled

"i see both of you get off on being spoken to like the sluts you are." he let the boys face go. "you made fun of me being a sub, turns out the sub is you." your eyes widened when a moan slipped out the older boys mouth ... he was enjoying this, being talked to like that.

jeongin walked into the closet, pulling out the rope you two only used a few times.

"since neither of you can grasp the concept of i don't like when people touch things that are mine, i think it's time today i show the both of you." he walked over to you. "you remember the safe word right?" you nodded, and he walked away paying attention to han once again. "j...jeongin— hyung did i say speak?" he scoffed. "n..no." jisung stuttered.

"then don't speak." the way he spoke to jisung, you couldn't help but rub your thighs together, it was hot the way jeongin talked to him.

"i'm gonna tie you up, and you're gonna watch me fuck my girlfriends pretty pussy, maybe you'll get it this time, she's mine and mine only." he explained, tying the boys hands behind. "you understand?" jisung nodded, but it wasn't good enough for jeongin. "was that not a question?"

"y...yes, i understand."

"good." he finally turned his attention to you. "you just have to get yourself off." he kept his promise, one smack your leaking cunt, had you screaming already. "fucking whore." he spat, getting rid of all his clothes, slotting right in between your legs, his cock against his pelvic bone, precum leaking from his red tip.

"i wasn't even talking to you and you're this wet, fucking pathetic." he slapped your cunt, smirking when your body began to shake, and you let out a scream, signaling that you came. "you came already?" he scoffed. "a little thigh rubbing and your cumming like a whore." he grabbed the base of his cock, positioning it at your twitching hole.

"j..jeongin ple- shut the fuck up." he slammed into you, not letting you adjust. "so fucking tight." he growled, pulling out just to thrust deeply back into your hole.

"you hear the pretty sounds she makes for me hyung?" he fucked into you at a rough brutal pace, stretching you open. "o..only- fuck for me."

you turned your attention to jisung who was currently fighting demons in the seat, his cock was so hard, you could see the print through his sweat as he struggled to sit still in the seat.

his head was thrown back, forhead covered in sweat as he fought to keep from cumming in his pants. "f...fuck." he groaned.

a deep thrust from jeongin had you grabbing at the sheets, he grabbed your jaw much like he did han, forcing you to look him in the eyes as he plowed into you. "is that who you want to fuck you? he's about to cum untouched, you think he can fuck you better than i can?" he growled into your ear.

"fucking answer me!"

"no! no i don't, please jeongin im gonna cum!" you moaned out loud, knowing your neighbors probably heard. "i shouldn't let you cum, i should leave you both here high and dry, or tie you up just like him, overstimulate both of you, but knowing both of you are probably pain sluts." you clenched hard around him.

"fuck! imma gonna cum— cum now! " one thrust sent you into earth shattering orgasm, your jaw dropped as he painting your inside with his cum. "you're thrust fucking thrust mine." he rode both your highs. he pulled out, a mixture of his cum and your leaking out of you.

"be a good girl, i'll clean you up in a minute." he kissed your forehead, standing up.

"you really came untouched in your pants." you realized he was no longer talking to you, but to jisung. "well that's too bad hyung." he faked sympathy.

"i was gonna let you fuck her face as a reward, but you came already."

©️LUVYENI

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jazjelspen · 1 year

Text

leaving on wild charted waters [pt.2]

(what if our mc just got tired of Night Raven College and it's inhabitants?)

(what if our mc meets a boy of red hair and blue eyes to show them the way around RSA?)

(also please read the small authors notes at the bottom if you make it that far T-T)

it's been a good short hours on the ship and this whole time you've been chatting up a storm with your new friend Rielle, and during this time you've both actually warmed up and learned a handful about each other!

you learned about each other's basic favorite things like colors, food, subjects, and even in music! Conversations seemed to flow smoothly like water between you two and you even learned how enchanting and magical his singing voice sounds, it almost had you entranced.

your new friend and you were now having a moment of silence while taking in the sounds of the water splashing against the ship until the boy spoke.

"if you don't mind me asking-- and I don't mean to pry! just that.." Rielle spoke while he nodded his head forward towards the direction of your cast holding your broken arm."is the reason why you're wounded related to your experience in Night Raven?... you don't have to answer if you don't want to I'm just genuinely curious." he gave you a comforting smile and his eyes were right on you, listening intently.

you gave a half-hearted and sheepish smile as you looked away and quickly started reminiscing about the events these past few months had in store for you in your head before you started to speak.

"well... in a way yes. I don't want to point any fingers--" you did want to point fingers, in fact you had many people to point fingers to. you sighed as you lightly shook your head in disappointment whilst facing the ship's floor "there were people who should've just done their job." your face started to form in a bit of a scowl "then maybe, just maybe... I wouldn't be in this state."

the young man formed an 'o' with his lips as he understood what you're trying to say.

"hmm..I see.. I'm very sorry _____, I promise that with my friends and I you'll never get a scratch on you while you're with us! and if it makes you feel any better, our staff too is always responsible and capable of finding a solution for any problem you're facing!" Rielle tried his best to sound optimistic and uplifting with the brightest smile on his face to get your frown turn upside down! and to also make you feel a little more confident in yourself as to give you more hope that your situation will turn around.

his very short speech made your head turn towards him and as he intended, you smiled warmly back with a new spark of optimism rising in your chest.

"thank you Rielle, that's... very kind of you." you spoke "I'm sure that while I'm with you, I'll at least have less than half of the injuries I have now."

he chuckled softly before responding to your comment "i'm sure you'll have few to none."

there was a moment where you two just looked at each other, both smiling and chuckling with the cold yet fresh sea breeze hitting both of your faces and the last few shines of the setting sun hitting both of your faces so perfectly. when you both calmed down you could feel this feeling of optimism rise up in your system even further.

this guy, his school-- you had a really good feeling about this change.

as well as a terrible feeling but about NRC.

but you didn't want to think much of it, not right now at least.

on Rielle's side he genuinely feels and understands your predicament, having to adapt into a strange new world that works differently than your own home does... he gets the feeling of being a total fish out of water. so because of this he feels he has this kind of connection with you because of this small detail you both have in common.

but in a really random way you also couldn't help but notice how ethereal the shade of blue was in his eyes.

you were about to ask a question but were rudely interrupted when the sailors of the ship were yelling from up above and hanging on the ropes beside the sails, announcing that the ship is now slowly arriving towards the school.

the news made you automatically want to stand up and get a good look of the school. to then have your eyes finally meet the shape of a large white castle as the focal point with the peaks of each of it's towers glistening while still being overshadowed by the shining and setting sun behind. the scene was breathlessly magical with the special touch of this entire moment being the mixed splashes of orange, deep purple, and yellow of the sky blending in with the glistening waters of the calm ocean.

Rielle slowly stood up beside you while facing the school as well "amazing isn't it? seeing the academy shining against the sunset is one of my favorite things to see here." he said before he took in a big inhale of the ocean air to then exhale, taking in the scene and all it's beauty.

"you're damn right it's amazing." you chuckled at your comment before Rielle quickly joined in too in a shared chuckling fit. For the rest of your time on the ship you two decided to just calmly enjoy the view until the ship reached ashore.

Let's speed up to now reaching and stopping on the shore.

A gangplank was set down for you and any other residents to hop off the ship. Rielle and you slowly yet excitedly walked off at the exit to finally walk down to RSA-- that was until Rielle stopped you before you could step a foot on the large plank.

"Here, let me help you out my friend." Rielle then offered a helping hand by extending his elbow out, asking you to link your uninjured arm around his as a way to help and avoid slipping but also because he's just a gentleman at heart.

you gave him a smile and a small 'thank you' as you accepted his offer while linking both of your arms together with him(or only hold onto his arm with your hand, whichever you feel comfy with)and carefully walked off the ship with him at your side. when you two find yourselves on the shore at the edge of the sea you could feel a bit of nervousness now in your system since to you it seems like you're in a whole new world. Rielle noticed this and in another attempt to cheer you up he gently tugged at your arm that you linked with him to have you look at him, to give you a reassuring smile.

"You'll be just fine _____, I'll show you where you need to go if you'd like. just know I'll be right here with you."

His words started to sink in as you gave him a hesitant nod but a strong statement,

"Let's do this."

Meanwhile... at Night Raven College..

well... I'll save all the NRC chaos in the next post, it deserves it's own chapter ;)

(will include descriptive yet somewhat short reactions of only house leaders unless there is demand for other characters)

(also if you're confused why I had a ship travel you to RSA instead of just going through the forest and through the town I completely forgot that the isle of sages housed both NRC and RSA 💀💀but im already this far in so pretend it makes sense please T-T)

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darkened-writer · 2 years

Text

imagine| Sapphire Gaze

summary || “You remind me of sapphires.”

request || Could write a fanfic for Aemond where he and his cousin (Daemons daughter) are in love with each other and at the family dinner everybody can sense that they have a special bond, much to Daemons despise. Just some angst and fluff please🫶🏻Btw. I absolutely love your writings. :))

pairing || Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon! Reader

word count || 9,472

warnings || Minor angst, some fluff, Aemond needs a hug.

notes || This took me SO LONGGG, so I hope it was worth it haha. Enjoy!!!

The first time you met him was at your mother’s funeral.

Everyone was amongst themselves, chatting and dwelling on the memory of Laena Velaryon. Your sisters pouting and wallowing in their sadness while sitting upon a bench. Yourself, however, decided it would be better to stick by your father whom was near Viserys Targaryen; looming like a vulture seeking dinner.

You were always told, “You’re just like your father.” or “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” All in regards to your attitude and how well you swing your sword. You mirrored Daemon’s skills as if you were his long lost twin, and that worried plenty of people, especially Alicent Hightower.

“I’m old enough to notice your gazes towards Rhaenyra, Father.”

The man let his eyes leave Rhaenyra’s figure and settle on yours, your arms folded under your cloak. It was disappointing body language yet your face was upturned with amusement.

“Old enough? You’re just two years older than your sisters, my oldest.”

“I may be good at fighting, Father. But, I also have brains.”

He chuckles and turns to look at Viserys who was also looking at him.

The winds, however, pulled your gaze to a silver-haired boy looking at you from across the way, in a similar way that Rhaenyra was looking at your father. With admiration, a sense of longing, and yet you only knew the boy's name and nothing more.

Aemond Targaryen.

His eyes were scanning your figure, almost curious of who you are. What your origins were, but your train of thought was immediately interrupted.

“Your girls are the very image of their mother.” You turn to look at your uncle, the King, “A comfort and an anguish, as I well remember. The gods can be cruel.”

A firm pause, before your father answered, “It seems they’ve been especially cruel to you.”

The King finds the comment humorous, when normally it would be taken as an insult.

“Yes…” The tension was palpable between the two, so you speak.

“It’s wonderful to see you, Uncle.” You bow your head a bit and the man cracks a sincere smile.

“Y/N! My fierce little Niece, It’s great to see you also, even if under such dire circumstances.”

“Agreed, Uncle.” His eyes find Daemon’s again, “You should return with us to King’s Landing. It’s time that you came home.”

“Pentos is my home…and that of my children.”

“Daemon… I know we’ve had our differences, but let them pass with the years. There’s a place for you in my court if that’s something you should need.”

“I need…” His mouth moves to say ‘Rhaenyra’, but he stops himself, “nothing.” The silence hits once again but before Viserys could say anything else, your father walks away quickly.

“Brother…”

You place a comforting hand on your Uncle’s shoulder before walking away also towards the stairs to head toward the beach. The sky was a pleasant shade of gray, mirroring upon the shiny sea water that called to your very soul. The Velaryon blood coursed through your veins, drawing you towards the sea but the fire was just as mesmerizing.

The sand finally touched your boots, sounding a gentle crushing noise. The waves waning against the rocks, sea foam catching on the grains of sand. It was all too peaceful for such a saddening day, but somehow you knew that the sea took your mother with open arms to become a part of it once again.

“You remind me of sapphires.”

The voice pulled you from your concentration, eventually connecting a face to the voice. Aemond Targaryen stood with his cloak flowing in the high winds, hair also meticulously moving in tandem.

“Sapphires? Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply.”

“Well, I’d like to get to know you better, cousin.”

You tilt your head, “Ah cousin, should’ve known we were related based on the hair color.” Your hand finds the pin holding your locks upward and slide it out, letting the silver cascade down your shoulders and flow to the side. Aemond’s eyes watched your hair with great interest, rousing a laugh from the bottom of your stomach.

“Are you always this curious and interested in hair?”

He stifles a cough, “Erm– yes?”

“You liar–”

You quickly move past him, gently shoving him with a laugh that sounded like pure heaven to the boy's ears. You seemed to be in a playful mood, so the boy chased after you, laugh intertwining with yours. And what a true joy it was to meet someone in the family that didn’t completely anger you.

Hours later, after departing from Aemond, you were safe and warm within the covers of the bed you truly loved. Your sisters were asleep, subtly snoring until they were awoken by a familiar roar. Vhagar, Mother’s dragon who wasn’t supposed to even be flying or out this late at night. It worried the two twins, so they did only what they were taught in an odd situation, they woke their older sister.

“Y/N…Y/N… Y/N– wake up…!”

Your shoulders were being shook until numbness, but you eventually let your eyes fall open and settled on Baela.

“Mm…? What is it, sister?”

“Someone stole Vhagar.”

That sets the alarm bells in your mind off, “What?!”

Quickly, you put your dress and boots on and settled the dagger your father had made for you under your gown. Telling Baela and Rhaena to wake Jacaerys and Lucerys and meet you where Vhagar was going to land. And eventually, you all met up to investigate what was going on. Though, you held your sisters back behind you so you could go first in case of an attack. The distant crash of Vhagar landing made you jump, but alas you waited to see who was riding the Dragon that was to remain unclaimed.

“Jace, what are we doing?”

Yourself and the group of children all quieted down at the sight of Aemond.

“It’s him.”

“It’s me.”

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon.”

“Your mother’s dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now.” Venom was seething through his mouth, and you winced at his way with words, harsh and unruly.

“She was mine to claim.”

“Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.”

Rhaena slipped from behind you in rage, going to grapple and fight Aemond but was quickly thrown to the side and to the ground. Baela couldn’t stand to see her sister hurt, so the girl took her turn, throwing a punch and landing it, but ultimately getting the same force of a punch back, knocking her down.

“Come at me again and I’ll feed you to my dragon!”

You leapt to check on Rhaena to see if the boy had hurt her, while Jacaerys began to throw punches himself. With a gentle caress, you wiped the blood from your sister’s nose, feeling Jacaerys fall to the ground and the shrill shriek of Lucerys. It was chaos, but in spite of Aemond’s meticulous strength, you helped Rhaena up and she went immediately to beating Aemond up with Baela and Jacaerys.

Blood was all over the boy’s face, while you took the liberty of staying out of the conflict and helping Lucerys up from the dirty ground.

It didn’t last though, Jacaerys was kicked aside, the girls thrown, but Lucerys lunged anyways; getting put into a chokehold. Everyone tensed up as Aemond grabbed a stone from the ground and held it up, your heart dropping to your stomach. Was he going to kill your cousin in cold blood?

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did! Bastards.”

“My father’s still alive.” Lucerys wailed out with a bloodied face and salty tears, “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?”

Aemond’s tone became condescending, and within that rage, Jacaerys grabbed the dagger that laid upon your thigh while you were ultimately distracted.

“Jace!”

You grabbed your sisters and held them back with eyes of fear, watching as Aemond threw Lucerys to fall to the ground, but Jacaerys caught him and threw him softer to land. The boy swung the dagger you once had, missing and getting struck by the stone Aemond wielded. The dagger landed near Lucerys, who grew strength in the moment he had of being defeated. And as Aemond had his arm held up with the stone, ready to strike Jacaerys down, he looked to you and your sisters; and you shook your head in disbelief.

What happened to the kind boy you had met on the beach?

Sand and then the slash and scream that accompanied it.

Aemond cried into the sandy, night air, clutching his face in great pain. Blood pooled and spilled from his left eye, slipping through his fingers like wine being poured from a bottle. You felt a twinge of guilt for not breaking up the fight, but you knew you’d done right by keeping close to your sisters. Because they were most important to you, even if the boy who was now seething in pain was kind to you once.

“How could you allow such a thing to happen?”

The king was chastising the knight in front of him, and you let your eyes come to Aemond sat upon a chair, having his eye cleaned by a Maester. Alicent Hightower, the queen, sat next to the boy with a vastly worried expression. A mother’s worry for her son, her boy.

“Who had the watch?”

“Young prince was attacked by his own cousins, Your Grace.”

You held your sisters in a huddled hug, their blood coated on your fingers as you had tried to wipe their faces clean. Though, it had just ended with red smudges on their skin and crimson tips for your fingers.

“You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!”

“I’m very sorry, Your Grace. The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes, Your Grace–”

“That is no answer!”

Alicent’s voice chimed in, “It will heal, will it not, maester?” She sounded desperate.

“The flesh will heal. But the eye is lost, Your Grace.”

Alicent and Viserys seemingly reeled at the news of their son’s eye now being lost, and you felt bile rising in your throat.

“Where were you?” Alicent began to antagonize her son, “Me?”

The answer wasn’t satisfactory, so the woman slapped him and he quivered in fear at the anger on her face.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool.” The Hightower woman was seething in anger, a sight that was rare and never welcomed. But before anyone else could possibly speak or do anything, doors opened and Corlys and Rhaenys rushed down the stairs.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Y/N, Baela, Rhaena! What happened? What happened?” The older woman immediately embraced your sisters, pulling you into the hug roughly but with care. Corlys went front and center while Rhaenys was comforting your sisters and rubbing your shoulder in hopes of easing you. The grand doors opened with a creak and Rhaenyra Targaryen came waltzing in with a face stricken with intense, motherly worry, but what was odd was your father was trailing behind her; making eye contact with you before leaning against the doorway to watch the commotion.

“Jace? Luke!” She rushed to kneel in front of them, trying to assess the damage of Lucerys’s nose.

“Show me. Show me.”

His small hand moved from his nose, and a fresh gush of blood fell.

“Who did this?”

“They attacked me!”

“He attacked Baela!”

“He broke Luke’s nose!”

The children continued to shout and make their own arguments and claims of what had happened, “He stole my mother’s dragon!”

“Enough.”

“He was gonna kill Jace! I didn’t do anything!”

“Enough–”

“It should be my son telling the tale!” Alicent now joined the children in their chorus of cries and shouts, until–

“Silence!”

Instantaneous silence at the King’s yell, Jace leaned down to his mother’s ear to whisper something that made her face go pale as she rose. Must’ve been the phrase that started the physical altercation, ‘Bastard’.

“Aemond…” The King made his way down the small bit of stairs ever so slowly, “I will have the truth of what happened. Now.”

“What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible.” Alicent chimed in, “It was a regrettable accident.” Rhaenyra argued.

“Accident? The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my son.”

“We had no idea it was your son whom was riding, Vhagar!”

Alicent’s gaze turned to you now, “Past conflicts have arisen between them and yet you had no idea it was Aemond?”

“No– and it was I who brought the blade, for protecting my sisters and cousins in case of danger.”

Alicent’s eyes rolled, “And you claim to be oh so high and mighty now, protecting family–”

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them.” Rhaenyra interrupted the Queen from continuing.

Viserys’ perked up, “What insults?”

“The legitimacy of my sons’ birth was put loudly to question.”

“What?”

“He called us bastards.”

The room went silent, even a drop of wine could sound across the room.

“My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace. This is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders.”

The boy peeked from the rather large chair he was sat upon, looking you directly in the eye as Rhaenyra spoke, sending a chill up your spine at the view of his now lost eye, bloody and bruised.

“Over an insult? My son has lost an eye.” Alicent’s hand roughly gestured to Aemond.

“You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?”

“The insult was training yard bluster.” Alicent interrupted, “The lot of boys. It was nothing.”

“Aemond… I asked you a question.” A pause, before Alicent spoke once again, “Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys’ father? Perhaps he might have some say in the matter?”

“Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”

“I do not know, Your Grace. I… could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk.” Your father was glancing at Rhaenyra with eyes you knew well, and your stomach felt like it was weighed down by stones. He was getting involved with his niece, on the day of your mother’s funeral.

“Entertaining his young squires, I would venture.”

No one laughed, not a single breath except for the hateful looks both Rhaenys and Corlys sent Alicent. Viserys was neglectful of the looks and continued his earlier conversation with his injured son.

“Aemond… look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?”

Pregnant silence, before he spoke, “It was Aegon.”

“Me?” The other boy looked terrified, “And you, boy? Where did you hear such calumnies? Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!”

“We know, Father…” The room suddenly feels hotter, “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

Most of everyone in the room peers at Rhaenyra and her sons, her hand laid on her youngest head, tears welling up in her beautiful eyes. Alicent visibly looked saddened, but you knew deep down she most likely felt satisfied about his answer, but the complete opposite could be said for Viserys.

“This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now, make your apologises and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!”

The obviously sick and decrepit man, our king, began to walk away, his cane clicking against the ground abrupt against the awkward silence. Alicent looked appalled at her husband's words, tears in her eyes mirroring Rhaenyra.

“That is insufficient.” He turns around, “Aemond has been damaged permanently, My King. “Good will” cannot make him whole.”

“I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it’s been taken.”

“What would you have me do?”

“There is a debt to be paid. I shall have one of her son’s eyes in return. And if not her son’s, then the one who brought the blade in the first place.”

The room began to murmur, your eyes widening at her proposition. Rhaenys’s grip around you became tighter in her own worry.

“My dear wife…–”

“He is your son, Viserys. Your blood.”

“Do not… allow your temper to guide your judgment.” He shares brief eye contact with your father.

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston… bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon or Y/N Velaryon.”

“Mother!” The small boy shouts, and you turn to look at your father who looks more antsy than before, worried.

“Alicent…”

“The one you choose can choose which eye to keep, a privilege neither of them granted my son.”

��You will do no such thing.” Rhaenyra defended, beginning to look just as worried as your father; if not worse.

“Stay your hand.”

“No, you are sworn to me!” She yells to Ser Criston, “As your protector, My Queen.”

A sense of relief washed over you, Alicent looking more and more disappointed by the second.

“Alicent, this matter… is finished. Do you understand?” The king and queen share eye contact for a moment, before the king turns to leave the whole situation all together, but he must leave a brief message.

“And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons should have it removed.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Rhaenyra leans down to console her sons once again, yourself choosing to kiss the tops of your sisters’ heads, until chaos strikes. Alicent moved steady towards Rhaenyra with the blade Viserys usually carried at his side, looking like a woman on a mission, and various people began to shout which alerted her to the oncoming attack; catching Alicent’s arms in a grapple. Luke screamed in fear and you instantly huddled towards Baela and Rhaena to protect them, not noticing your father trying to get to you but being interrupted by Ser Criston.

“You’ve gone too far.”

“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom , the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please. Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again.”

“Release the blade, Alicent.” Her father spoke, but she did not listen.

“And now you take my son’s eye, and to even that, you feel entitled.”

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you really are.” And with a push away, the blade penetrates Rhaenyra’s skin, conjuring up blood at her wrist that slips down, down, until the crimson liquid hits the marbled floor. Her face was open in shock at what had just happened, even Alicent looking shell-shocked at what she did. The blade in her hand tumbling down and hitting the floor to mirror the bloodshed.

But, now Aemond was up from his seat, eyes turning to him instead of the commotion.

“Do not mourn me, Mother.” She looks at him, “It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye… but I gained a dragon. And Y/N was not at fault at all–”

You both look to each other, “She didn’t even try and hurt me, she stayed out of it, so bid her mercy…”

You let the corners of your mouth slide up in a thankful smile, and he only replies with a nod.

“This proceeding is at an end.”

Ser Criston releases your father, and he makes haste in reuniting with you and your siblings and Rhaenyra, looking at Alicent with the same gaze as the rest of your family, stern, dark, and direct.

Ten years have passed since that fateful night.

Baela had traveled to Driftmark to be a Ward for Rhaenys and Corlys, Rhaena deciding to stay with you to keep you company against the hoard of boys. Lucerys and Jacerys were handfuls in of themselves, despite their older age. But now you had little Joffrey and his two brothers to mess about and yell into the halls of Dragonstone.

Your father and Rhaenyra had wed the morning after the night of bloodshed, happy and content within joining their two families, and Rhaenyra was now pregnant with yet another child after two younger boys with Daemon. You’d hope that they would be a girl.

Though, the peacefulness that was your home was breached by a letter sent by Baela, giving information about Corly’s brother challenging Lucerys’s legitimacy to the Driftmark throne. He was going to present it to the king in hopes of staking claim over Luke, which made Rhaenyra instantly angered by the audacity. And, that is when your parents decided that it would be best to travel back to the kingdom to make their own claim against Vaemond.

A ship ride and a carriage ride, and you were now arriving at the castle that held the man that weighed on your thoughts for a decade.

Aemond.

The boy saved you from losing an eye by claiming your innocence.

How would he look after ten years? Handsome? Stubborn like his mother? The question hung in your head until the carriage stopped and Rhaenyra sent you a small smile to tell you it was time to exit.

“All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne and her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen.”

The bells tolled, and the cold air drifted into the now open carriage as Rhaenyra exited promptly and with a regalness that only royalty could muster. Your father exited just after her without a care of how he looked, but you waited and helped Rhaena out of the carriage before letting Jacerys and Lucerys go and then yourself.

Your whole family was adorned in black and red colors, contrasting the green banners that were in the yard you stood in. Rhaena’s rather cold hand grasped yours, and you let your thumb absentmindedly rub against the frozen skin. She felt anxiety, it was only normal considering where you all stood.

Lord Caswell suddenly came from the entry doors with careful consideration, before coming to stand in front of Rhaenyra and bowing his head. His wrinkled hands found her soft ones, eyes speaking with care.

“Welcome back, Princess.”

“Lord Caswell.”

The man kindly escorted you all into the castle, and the decor change seemed to alarm both of your parents. The green, the religious symbols, it was all so daunting for two people who were raised here. Alas, you had to separate from them as they had duties to attend to, so you followed your brothers to the training yard, their black cloaks dragging behind them like crows feathers.

Two knights were sparring, catching the eyes of the boys, however you were focused on the blades sat against wood planks to be picked up.

They were awfully shiny and caught your eye, the indistinct chatter all around you becoming void.

“See? I told you this would still be here. And you thought you could swing Criston’s morningstar. And you almost took your own head off.”

Lucerys grumbled beside you, looking at the weapons also as Jacerys rustled the boys’ hair, yet he was focused on the various people staring at you three with curious eyes. Jacerys noticed immediately, “What’s your problem?”

You picked up a shiny blade, twirling it in your grasp, “Everyone’s staring at us–”

“Hyah!” Jacerys tried to play, even smiling a bit but it was shut down by Lucerys’s sour attitude.

“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark… if… if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong–”

You quickly dropped the sword and placed a hand on your brother’s shoulder, gathering his attention, “It doesn’t matter what they think.”

It seemed to ease him, before a crowd had gathered and cheering began, grunts from the middle of the crowd. Jacerys dragged you two immediately to whatever was going on, and the view shocked you.

A white-haired man brandished a shield and sword, moving swiftly towards the Dornish looking knight, taking a hit to his shield and causing the crowd to react with “ooo”’s and “ahh”’s. But the white-haired mystery was smart, he threw the shield to the side and began relentless swipes towards the knight, but he dodged anyways, now revealing the face of the man.

Aemond–

This alarmed Lucerys, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. He moved meticulously, like a spider on a wall, fast and deadly. His moves were awe-inspiring, and every jab of his sword made your heartbeat faster and faster; until the pointy end was at the knight’s neck and the crowd applauded.

“Well done, my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys. Nephews, Niece… have you come to train?”

His one eye was wide and awake, an unnerving chill being sent up your spine just by his glance. But before any of you three could reply, a guard shouted.

“Open the gate!”

There was a large creak before your relative, Vaemond, waltzed through with his battalion, making a huge deal out of his arrival. Until you feel a hand grasp yours and pull you back and away from the crowd. The hand was warm and inviting, callouses from sword handling prominent but the veins in the arms were so very noticeable.

He was pulling you fast towards the library, not even giving you a second to rest before the library doors shut and his gaze was on you once again. His singular eye wandered your entire figure, starting from your face, down to your neck, your chest, your waist, legs, and then back up. He hummed a content, “hmmm”, before speaking.

“My– how you’ve grown, Niece…”

“Could say the same to you, Aemond.”

He circled you now, like a shark circling blood in the ocean, but your desire was probably ten times that. You missed him even after only knowing each other for a day, and it scared you; how much you wanted to kiss him, bite his neck, or nibble on his ear. The possibility of hearing the low, guttural noises of pleasure from him was surfacing in your mind.

You hoped whatever god or gods there were that he couldn’t read your mind right now.

The eyepatch slung on his head looked to be made of fine leather, of course made by someone of exceptional skill and yet, the man most likely saw himself as a cripple due to the loss of his eye. His hair was long and flowed down his back almost like a ravenous river, uncontrollable and wild. What brought out a slice of curiosity from you though was the blue glimmer from under the eyepatch he adorned, did he really stick a gem into his eye socket?

“You still remind me of sapphires.”

“Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply, Aemond–”

He smirks, lips upturning, as if remembering the very same day you both had met and spoke. Of course, it was hard to forget you, and the way you didn’t join your siblings in crippling him. You were merciful to him, yet, you were known to have the same anger and rage boiling in you as your father, Daemon. And after these ten years that had passed, there was never a quiet moment where he wasn’t pondering about you, your whereabouts, or how you might have aged and come into your own body.

And you sure had matured in all the right places.

“What did you hope to achieve by pulling me into the library?”

Were you hoping to get a rise out of him? Because the palpable tension of ten years was straining like a rope at its breaking point. About to snap.

“Privacy, mostly, Niece.”

He stood firmly in front of you, now closer than he previously was but just far enough to where you could feel the lingering touch of his hand. His fingers were long, slender, and strong; built for sword fighting and taking down armies of men. He was stronger than he looked. His hand trailed up your arm, settling just under your ear within the crease, cradling your cheek longingly. His gaze mirrored that of when he first saw you, adoring and curious. How is it that such a violent man could stoop into a passive state around a woman he cares for, admires and cherishes.

“You’ve gone soft, Aemond. Where is that daring sword fighter I just saw outside?”

“Even a man as violent as direwolves would falter under the eyes of the woman he loves.”

“And you love me?”

“Of course, I do… ever since we were kids. Ever since the day I lost my eye. I gained a dragon and a person worth fighting for.”

His thumb stroked the skin of your cheek, “Do you feel the same, Sapphire…?”

Before he could even utter another word, your lips were on his.

You didn’t see Aemond the rest of the day after the shared kiss.

He had duties to attend to and Daemon had called upon you for your sword training, which he always let you handle Dark Sister since you would be the one to inherit the blade. A powerful symbol and an even swifter blade then the dagger you’d been carrying since you were a kid.

The same dagger that took out Aemond’s eye.

The guilt of even taking the blade in the first place to the cavern was still apparent in your older age, but even your sisters liked to assure you that it was the right call.

You were their protector. Their older sister and through marital laws, could be the heir to the Iron throne if Rhaenyra deemed it so.

The oldest of all your siblings, you were also the fiercest, yet the most gentle.

‘The Realms Essence’, you’d heard in villages.

‘She embodies love and hate, the wind and the flame.’

Yet, you were always drawn to the sea and the color of sapphire blue.

The next day was the day of defending Lucerys’s claim to the throne of Driftmark, his birthright and exactly what Corlys’ would have wanted.

Rhaenyra awoke you in the morning, carrying a red and black dress with a blue dragon sutured up the back. It was the color of your dragon, Bessoarth, The Nocturnal. The glimmering yellow of the eyes of the dragon drew you in as your mother helped you put on the dress, smoothing out any creases and beginning to braid your hair in a Dragon riders’ style.

She had said she used to wear her hair the exact same way when she was younger, and a swell of pride bundled up in your heart.

You missed your true mother, Laena, but the attention and love from Rhaenyra brought new light to your inner child.

Eventually, you and your whole family were gathered in the sacred room that held the Iron Throne. The crowds chattering about whatever came to mind but all was put silent as Otto Hightower began to speak and start the meeting.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.” He takes a seat on the throne.

“The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

Your relative walks up to speak his truth, while you immediately tried to find Aemond’s gaze, once locking, a smile arose on his lips that didn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone.

“My Queen. My Lord Hand.”

Alicent looks at Vaemond, “The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’s closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.”

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon–. If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition.”

Rhaenyra was right in her correct interruption of Vaemond, yet Alicent Hightower interrupted her immediately.

“You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

The tensions between the two formal friends was sharp and unyielding, but to make matters worse, Ser Vaemond came with a rebuttal to Rhaenyra.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it.” Rhaenyra nods to herself, “This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.” The man lets his eyes land on Lucerys, which you firmly reply with shoving the boy slightly behind you, looking Vaemond in the eyes with haste. How dare he look at him with such satisfied eyes, who did he think he was?

“My Queen, My Lord Hand.” He was an ass kisser, that much was obvious. “This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor… the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond.”

He sent one last glance at your family before taking his place once again.

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.”

She took firm steps to the front, holding her wrist with a certain amount of anxiety that was only a bit noticeable. But even in her worries, she gave off a sense of knowing it would all be okay somehow.

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago, in this very–”

A noticeable creak sounded throughout the hall, taking everyone's gaze to the grand doors behind. The almost toppled over body of your Uncle came firmly to enter the meeting, a golden mask clad on the right side of his face. His white hair was sparse and thin, just about all of it gone and yet his head still held the crown with delight. His cane clicked on the cobblestone ground, and you couldn’t help but notice the small smile on Rhaenyra’s face.

Her father was here to save the day.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

The room bowed their heads to the King who would die being known for the kindness of his heart, and the love he held for his family. A truly noble man.

He moved slowly and with a limp, but kept his gaze on his only child, knowing what he had to do, and he would not fail.

“I will sit the throne today.”

“Your Grace…”

The determination your Uncle exhibited was noteworthy and brought a great comfort to you, knowing the bloodline you stem from ties into a man so oddly heroic, even in his last days.

Through his difficulty to climb up to his lofty seat, the crown on his head fell with a thud which prompted yourself and your father to try and aid him.

Daemon held Viserys and helped him to the throne and you had the honor of placing the crown back onto his head. Even after bickering and arguments, the brothers knew they would always have each other, even if one were to pass. And you gave your Uncle an adoring gaze and a loving smile, before joining your family once again.

“I must… admit… my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present… who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

“Indeed, Your Grace.”

The whole room peered keenly at the older woman, herself stepping forward with her black grown dragging against the ground behind her.

“It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son… Lucerys Velaryon.” Rhaenyra perked up, “His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

Baela looked to be smiling a bit, Alicent shaking her head to herself as if in disapproval.

“Well…” Viserys began, “The matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucery Vvelaryon of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

He wheezed after his proclamation, Rhaenys rejoining Baela and Vaemond, staring daggers into Rhaenyra, making a ‘tch’ sound.

“You break law… and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir.” He steps up to speak once again, “Yet you dare tell me… who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

“”Allow it”? Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

The man turns and points at Lucerys, face drawn up in a flame like anger, “That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine.”

You draw Lucerys back behind you, Rhaenyra turning and looking him in the eyes.

“Go to your chambers. You have said enough.” She looks to Vaemond with pleading eyes, not wanting to argue over something so realistically small. However, Viserys decides to chime in again.

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you… are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

“You… may run your house as you see fit… but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides.” His venom laced eyes turned to our family once again, “And gods be damned… I will not see it ended on the account of this–” He pauses.

Daemon seeks the words Vaemond wishes to utter and says, “Say it.”

The whole room seemingly freezes, the air thin, but Vaemond couldn’t restrict his tongue.

“Her children… ARE BASTARDS. And she… is… a whore.”

The crowd stirs with gasps and while Viserys tries to rise, you put a comforting hand on Rhaenyra's shoulder.

“I…” The king pulls his dagger from under his cloak, “will have your tongue for that.”

But before anything could even happen, the sound of a sword being swung erupted and Vaemond Velaryon’s top half of his head fell to the ground, soon following his body. Everyone gasped and Alicent pulled Haelena into a hug, knowing the view troubled her. Rhaenyra was shocked but even you knew your father would not let those words go without punishment.

“He can keep his tongue.”

“DISARM HIM!”

“No need.” Daemon quickly cleaned his blade with his cloak and sheathed it, Aemond now meeting your wandering eyes with one thing on his mind.

You certainly inherited your father’s flare.

The King fell back into the throne, Alicent calling for the maesters and Rhaenyra rushing to his side to check on him. The dagger sheathed at your side seemed to burn and itch every second, yet that didn’t even disturb you. Aemond’s almost excited gaze towards Daemon is what truly did you in.

With the day just about gone, it was time for dinner.

The whole family, including Alicent’s children, were all to attend. You dreaded the ordeal simply by the fact that you knew trouble would most definitely stir up. It was bound to happen with the tensions rising between Rhaenyra and Alicent, not to mention Aemond’s anger towards Jace and Luke. The only person who seemed to not even care about what was going on was Haelena, as she was sipping her wine and smiling to herself, muttering phrases that made anyone shiver. You felt bad for her.

The doors opened to the dining room and Viserys was carried in, everyone standing in greeting to his royal majesty. He had looked tired, exhausted even, and that saddened your heart.

The sadness could never really last with Aemond staring into your very soul any chance he could, wearing a lustful smile, mind wandering to where the kiss prior could have led. The feelings stirring in your heart were that of love, the very thing that slays duty. A dangerous thing.

Once Viserys was finally seated, everyone else followed suit. His lowly eye looking around the whole table, taking in the sight of his family together, even if torn all the same.

“How good it is… to see you all tonight… together.”

His adoring gaze landed on Rhaenyra, before Alicent spoke.

“Prayer before we begin?”

“Yes.”

An odd thing that your mother had pointed out to you, was that Alicent was never religious during the time they spent together in their youth. The randomness of the religion she was now devout to had caused her great confusion, though she was not one to deny someone the freedom of worship.

“May the mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.”

Your father sent a playful gaze at you, which you dismissed with an eye roll towards his attitude.

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young princes… and their betrothed.”

Aemond’s eye was on you once again at the mention of betrothal, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hear, hear!”

Everyone raised their glasses, the bitter wine wrapping around your tongue and slid down your throat with an aftertaste that was oddly sweet. The aroma had accents of earthy tones that reminded you of the sea, your home. Aegon’s whispers to Jace were heard but not acknowledged by you as you enjoyed your wine.

“Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys… the future Lord of the Tides.”

“Hear, hear.”

“You’ll be great.”

Aemond’s lingering stare towards Lucerys was dark, one of extreme distaste, which reflected directly how he felt towards Jacerys also. But not you, never you, you were a person with an attitude that mirrored the harsh waves. Yet, you were delicate and sweet like his favorite fruit, the blueberry.

“You look beautiful, my daughter.”

Daemon laid a hand upon yours that sat on the table, smiling at you proudly.

“Thank you, Father. Rhaenyra has helped me pick the most beautiful of dresses. I owe it to her.”

The lovely couple now peer at each other lovingly before your Uncle rose up to speak, back hunched and breath coming out rugged and wild. Even while his face was covered, it was obvious his health was declining by the second.

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world… yet grown so distant from each other… in the years past.” His hand reaches up, grasping the gold mask and unclasping it, making you tense up immediately from surprise.

A skull. His skull.

The right side of his face had sunken in and molded to the bones of his face, the eye gone forever like his son’s. It was a horrible sight, but knowing that the man who had to endure it was your darling uncle made your heart ache.

“My own face… is no longer a handsome one… if indeed it ever was. But tonight… I wish you to see me… as I am. Not just a king… but your father. Your brother. Your husband… and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems… walk for much longer among you.” The mask is dropped to the table with a loud CLUNK, “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown… then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

Viserys shrinks back into his seat, being helped by Alicent who assists him in wiping his mouth, Rhaenyra now abruptly standing and holding her cup up. Her foot visibly shook from under the table, “I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen.”

The two women looked each other in the eyes, Alicent’s gaze softening a bit at those words before she continued.

“I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood… more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with… unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude… and my apology.”

She takes a quiet seat, setting her cup down, and Alicent responds.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers… and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow.” She stands, ringed hand grasping her cup, “I raise my cup to you… and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”

Rhaenyra and Alicent are both smiling to themselves as Alicent finally sits, and oddly enough, Rhaenyra raises her cup once again and looks to you now with a soft gaze, one of a mother.

“I’d also like to announce… Here and now, since Y/N is now my oldest child by law, I want to grant her the title as heir to the Iron Throne after me. A title very deserving of such a smart and beautiful woman, I loved your mother and she’d be very proud of how far you have come.” She raises the cup higher, everyone now doing so except Aegon whom was too busy drowning himself in booze.

“Hear, hear!”

Daemon clasps a proud hand on your shoulder, but your eyes gravitate to Aemond who tilted his cup to you with a smirk before taking a rather large gulp. A sign of respect perhaps?

The positive feelings were always to be interrupted, with Aegon now up and refilling his cup of wine. He was whispering to your sister, not loud enough for you to hear until Jace slammed his fists into the table, seat skittering as he rose quite quickly.

Jace clears his throat, but the tensions didn’t stop rising, Aemond now stood and eyeing up Jacerys, almost mentally telling him to stand down. And instead of attacking Aegon, Jace raised his cup to toast, patting Aegon on the shoulder rather awkwardly.

“To Prince Aegon and… Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles.” He takes a swift swig of his wine and gives Aegon another pat on the shoulder for the second time, making the man audibly groan, “To you as well.”

Aemond slowly shuffled back down into his seat and Helaena muttered a phrase under her breath while messing about with a thing in her clutches, “Beware the beast beneath the boards…”

“Well done, my boy.”

Helaena stands a bit off kilter, raising her wine glass, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you… except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

A bit of laughter choruses from the two families and the bright girl takes her seat once again, smiling wider than before. She was definitely your favorite between her and Aegon.

“Let us have some music.”

The prospect of hearing gentle tunes eased the anxiety of being sat at the table, and you visibly relaxed, holding the hand that Rhaenyra had held out to you, tightly. Jacerys stood up and excused himself before offering a hand to Helaena to dance, the girl taking his hand with a faint enthusiasm. Aegon, however, looked offended at that fact, yet the two still jumped around merrily with large smiles on their faces, putting a smile on your face also.

What shocked you was the tap on the shoulder you received, followed by the piercing eye of the man you adored staring down at you.

“Would you care to dance, Princess…?”

You hesitated at first, feeling your father’s eyes barreling into your head, yet your hand found Aemond’s, his fingers gently cusping over yours as he guided you to rise from your seat and stand near your brother and aunt.

One hand stayed clasped in his, the other on his rather broad shoulder as his free hand slid down to greet your waist with a singular touch. He guided the whole waltz, taking the liberty of spinning you and adding flare to the dance, making you giggle and laugh out into the night, all to the displeasure of your father, intensely watching the whole interaction with distaste. Yet, your uncle only watched you two adoringly, seeing himself and Aemma within you and Aemond. A tough man and his adoring wife, a misunderstood boy and the one who understands him the most.

Eventually, the man who held your very heart in his palm guided you back to your seat, kissing your hand ever so kindly before taking his seat, grabbing his chalice to take a hefty gulp of wine. Rhaenyra looked fairly happy, face turned upward and eyes sparkling with child-like wonder that she had lost ages ago. Alicent looked just about the same, smiling at her. It felt… good, and normal, and like home, to be with all the people in your family.

The moment was cut short when Viserys began to groan in pain and Alicent called for the guards to escort him back to his chambers for rest, your father’s face dropping at seeing his brother in pain. Yet, servants came in with various food items as the king was just leaving, a finely cooked pig being set in front of Aemond.

This aroused a laugh out of Lucerys, who was looking Aemond in the eye while openly laughing, the music coming to a stop once Aemond slammed a fist into the wooden table. His thin and wiry fingers curled atop the wine chalice, raising it up.

“Final tribute.”

Discomfort surfaced over every other emotion you felt, and you pleaded with him through desperate eye contact which seemingly egged him on further.

“To the health of my nephews: Jace… Luke… and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…”

Alicent almost seems to stiffen, eyeing up her son, while his eyes bounced between his nephews and you. He was going to say it, you knew it, you felt it in your very heart of hearts, so you braced for the outrage.

“Hm… strong.”

“Aemond–”

“Come… let us drain our cups to these three…” Aegon raises his cup, “Strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again–”

“Why?” He gazes at Jace, “‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”

The two boys strided towards each other quickly and Jace quickly swung a punch towards Aemond, striking him in the face. It sounded like Lucerys was also getting in a squabble, but you were only focused on Aemond being okay and Jace being unscathed.

You quickly rose and went to grab Jace to separate him and Aemond, but Aegon took the moment to let go of Lucerys and throw you into the table with him, causing your sisters to shout loudly and stand up, ready to defend you.

The guards quickly ended the fighting, but not before Aemond shoved Jace down to the ground with a chuckle.

Daemon was quick to help you from the table, holding you with loving arms of a father who cared heavily for his first-born daughter and future heir to the throne after Rhaenyra. Your eyes were on Aemond, who seemed satisfied with the petty squabbles, and even though he wasn’t looking at you, he could feel how hurt you were, like it was raining upon him from the very skies.

“Why would you say such a thing before these people?”

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother.” Daemon looks at you with eyes of suspicion due to your lingering stare towards Aemond, “Mm, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.”

Jace lunges for Aemond, but you step up, “Wait, wait!”

You hold your arms up to keep distance between Aemond and Jace, everyone's face contorting in confusion. Rhaenyra excuses her sons to go to bed and you keep eye contact with Aemond.

“You went too far–”

“Y/N–”

“You went too far and you know it, Aemond. I thought you… cared for me.. Enough to at least not claim my brothers are bastards.”

His face contorts to one of guilt, looking almost sorry for even causing such trouble. His eyes suddenly look behind you, and you know your father is most likely staring arrows into Aemond.

“Mm..” You hear Daemon behind you, and Aemond shrugs it off, now walking away with haste. Before you could chase after him, Daemon gently grabs our wrist to hold you in place.

“Daughter, do you hold affections for the boy who just insulted your brothers?”

Rhaenyra stared intensely from beside him.

“If I did… then what? Would you have me exiled like you were? Fulfill what everyone thinks, that I am a mini version of you? I just want everyone to get along for once, but it seems there will always be a strain upon both of our families…” You look at Alicent, whom looks visibly happy that you are finally saying something about how you feel. Something she could never do as a young woman due to the men in her life.

“I will love who I want, and if Aemond is the one I choose… then so be it. Disinherit me from the throne, throw my name from our family books, I could care less.”

Before Daemon could speak, you walked past him, sending Rhaenyra an apologetic look with your hands balled into fists. You had to find Aemond.

You would eventually find Aemond within his chambers, clutching his eyepatch in his left hand while staring wearily out of the window to his left. You couldn’t see his lost eye from the angle you were standing at, but you could see his other eye, blue and almost glowing with the light of the night.

“You defend me against your family, yet when I insult them, you barely bat an eye… why?”

His voice is calm, low and tired. He had a point, why did you defend him? Should you have just sided with Rhaenyra and her blood children?

“Aemond…–”

“The connection we felt as young children was fleeting, yet you didn’t partake in beating me to a pulp. Why?”

You took firm steps to get closer to him, but he kept his head tilted just so you couldn’t see the other side of his face. He looked almost scared to be vulnerable with you. Yet, you brought a hand up to his cheek and slowly turned his head to look fully to you, and you stifle a gasp.

A sapphire glowed faintly in the socket where his eye would have been, the blue striking and beautiful. It held a sapphire glare, one that made your heart skip a beat.

He was beautiful, even if his mind told him he was imperfect.

“I’m monstrous, aren’t I?”

“Not in the slightest.”

His face softened significantly at your words and his head leaned down to be against yours, cold yet inviting.

“You always reminded me of sapphires, and I wanted to always keep you in my mind’s eye.”

“Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply-”

Before you could utter a word more, his lips were on yours.

The ocean and the flames, The sapphire and the ruby, together at last.

#xreader #fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond

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averageallogene · 9 months

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hi! ive been thinking abt this for a while but could you do lyney x mermaid! reader 🩷

Lyney ♡⊹˚ Solace [SFW]

fem. reader (3rd person) ; fluffy fluff with a side of hurt/comfort, just because Lyney deserves the love :( ♡ ; reader is a mermaid! cw for diving (in case of any phobias!) ; Also mild spoilers of Act I of the first Fontaine Archon Quest.

3k words.

notes. Hi dear anon! ♡ Your wish is my command. Lyney with a mermaid reader is such a sweet idea, my fingers just began flying across the keyboard <3. I went with a fem. reader this time, I hope that's okay! If not, don't be shy to request a gn! version and I'll see what I can do. I hope you enjoy! ✧˖°.

The crowd cheered wildly, a standing ovation following as the pair extended their arms. Embracing the whistles and the praise was a reward the magicians were more than welcoming towards, even if reacting in different ways. A deep bow followed suit, the clapping growing louder, the cheering continuing for long minutes straight. The wooden floor boards beneath them even trembled, the mere satisfaction of their audience being utterly felt by the two even as they finally were released from the spotlight as the curtain slowly descended.

Lyney and Lynette had remained there, hands held together, him smiling and her remaining elegantly still up until they were no longer faced with their crowd. It was only after the maroon fabric concealed them that they could finally relax their muscles, their hands lowering before letting their breath go freely. Another show was successful, much to their pleasure.

"Good work, dear Lynette." He'd congratulated his brilliant sister, smiling with pride whilst attempting to conceal the way he was tired. It was unsuccessful, yet his sister didn't comment on it.

"You as well." She quietly hummed, the two exiting the stage before equally congratulating their team for their efforts. It was only as they were assured they were alone, that she spoke again. "Did you find anything?"

Lyney took his intricate hat off, gently placing it on top of his vanity. He focused to no point in particular, his gaze getting lost on the most minor of details as he sighed quietly.

"No, I didn't. I couldn't… Go far." Beneath his breath he admitted, his fingertips tracing the edge of his top hat as he could watch from the corner of his eye his sister, who remained still. "I think it's too early for us to go back on the hunt so boldly, no?"

"You might be right," Lynette's brows visibly furrowed. "Yet still, we can't fail Father either."

Silence. Lyney -could feel the knot on his throat tighten. Suddenly, his dressing room felt suffocating.

"I know." Was all he mustered. Nothing more was needed, anyway. Lynette knew she was touching a sore topic, and as such she herself stopped from speaking further about it.

It simply was still too fresh. Lyney feared he'd get himself, or worse his sister, in any trouble were he to attempt to further investigate the Oratrice right now… surely Father would understand. Right?

His head weighed heavy, spinning uncontrollably with everything that swarmed his mind for those past couple of days. He barely managed to account for everything being in its right place before he was already out the door and towards the Opera's exit, his sister inquiring hastily.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes, I just need some fresh air." He offered her a tired, albeit still honest smile.

"Ah, I see." She was quick to understand, nodding her head. "Just be back in time to spend some time with Freminet. We promised."

"Do not worry dear Lynette, my little brain shan't fail me." He waved her off with a hum, his feet quickly sending him flying off the tall and imposing building.

The bustling sounds of the crowd slowly dissipated, the blurry conversations blown with the wind as Lyney felt the breeze caress his face. His black boots carried him off to one of the shore lines of the sea, his expression finally letting go of all the tension he hadn't realized he had up until then.

There were no roaring cheers, no suffocating applause, no rush between his colleagues to rearrange and secure props. There were no Archons to amuse, no Fathers to make proud. There was no need for a charming magician, nor the need of loyalty of one of the House of Hearth.

"Lyney! You made it!"

There was only need for him to be Lyney, himself. And at that moment he smiled vividly, rivaling the very sun with how bright he shined. His pace became slightly quicker, crossing through the pearly sands as he reached one of the taller rocks near the shore.

There stood one of the very few people he knew he could be truly himself with. One that cared for him as he was, one that had no ulterior motives for wanting to love him. An enchanting figure to his life, a breath of fresh air that helped him calm from all his worries.

"Of course I made it, I'd never promise something I didn't intend on upholding my dear!" He laughed quietly, carelessly entering the refreshing waters until they were up to halfway his thighs. He opened his arms with twice the energy and yearning he’d usually display, enveloping his love in his warm embrace as she giggled blissfully. “Have you been waiting for too long? You’ve dried up already…”

“No, don’t worry.” She reassured him, shaking her head before holding both his hands. “It wasn’t long, I promise.”

“Is that the case…” His eyes squinted, a hint of playfulness evident in his features as he reached closer. His pretty eyes scanned her figure, noting how only her tail that was still submerged in the freshwater was obviously wet. Even her lovely hair had, at that point, half dried. If those weren’t the dead giveaways as they were, the way her tail had begun to slowly sway from one side to the other whilst creating the smallest of ripples on the water definitely was. “This keen eye tells me otherwise, mon coeur.”

Her face finally cracked, morphing into the prettiest of pouts that did wonders at pulling at his heartstrings. “I… I just- I just missed you a lot, so I might’ve come up ashore a little earlier than usual…”

Ah, Lyney’s very eyes seemed to reflect hearts as his very own melted. “Oh, my dear [F/N]... I’m sorry, had I known I would’ve rushed quicker!”

“N-No! No no no, absolutely not, there is no need!” The mermaid squeezed his hands tighter, all the while her magician remained there, leaning against the same rock where she sat, a loopy smile never leaving his lovestruck face as she spoke. “You have a lot to do, a lot of responsibilities, I don’t want to impose anything upon your schedule, Lyney!”

Well, there was the smallest part of him that… Perhaps hoped that she would. True, Lyney had a lot of responsibilities to his being, and he knew better than to avoid them; but it was those small escapades he’d do with his lovely [F/N] that refreshed his existence, recharged his batteries to take on everything else he needed to do. She was his solace, his comfort, and there was about nothing he’d deny her were she to ask.

Yet all the same, the fact she didn’t ask of anything more of him than his true self to be with her when he could, was one of the many reasons he loved her so dearly.

“Ah, I remembered,” Her back straightened up, the prettiest pink rising to her cheeks as she eyed him ahead with a cheery smile. “I-I had… Something I wanted to give you but, I didn’t know where to hide it until you came and…”

“You got something for me?” He seemed genuinely surprised, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he remained fully focused on her figure.

[F/N] in turn nodded her head. “It’s nothing special really, but still… I was hoping I could give it to you.”

“Oh now I am most curious,” Lyney breathed out with a wide smile, his hand quickly finding her face before stroking her cheek. “I’m certain I will absolutely adore it, love. Anything you give me is worth the world.”

The mermaid could feel her heart beating louder at his honeyed words. [F/N] knew that he meant it, too. And so, even as she herself wasn’t fully convinced, she kindly asked him to wait for her, before diving right down the fresh waters. Lyney watched as her tail swayed quickly, the figure slithering into the translucent waters before vanishing. He remained there as asked, the smile ever present on his face as he waited.

It was quiet… It felt nice. His head was mostly rested, emptied of all that troubled him. All he could focus was on the soft sounds of the water, ripples as the small waves reached his skin, up until they were stirred as his [F/N] reemerged to the surface. Her pretty hair now clung to her figure, a few strands hiding her glistening eyes as the color on her face rivaled the blooming roses he too adored. She swam his way, his endearing smile beckoning her as he sat himself comfortably to properly welcome her back. With his legs slightly parted she rested against him, her long shimmering tail hanging close to his legs as she doted on his very presence.

“I… It really isn’t anything special, honestly.” [F/N] spoke softly, all the while Lyney listened attentively with an encouraging smile. “It truly pales in comparison to the gifts you’ve given me but still. I hope you’ll like it, Lyney…”

She shifted, her arms bringing to the surface the subject of the conversation. The magician gently held his hands out, the wondrous gleam of a child present upon his face as he waited in anticipation for the kind gesture of his lovely girlfriend. Carefully his hands were blessed with a small object, a delicate conch with the most simplest yet beautiful shapes. It was a cleaned clam conch, its exterior seemingly mundane as it sported its most common shade - this much he knew, from the few times he’d witnessed Freminet freely talk about every little trinket he’d find during his divings. Still, the smile he gave [F/N] didn’t fade, in fact it seemed to only grow, his mind only swarming with how she’d picked that conch specifically for him. It had been something she’d gone out of her way of giving him, and no matter how simple it might’ve been, the gesture made his heart burst in happiness.

In turn, his mermaid remained silent, a shy smile on her damp face as she calmly turned the item around. It was finally time to study Lyney’s face, her heart hoping for any sight of wonder. And truly, Lyney’s expression didn’t fail to amuse, his pretty lips parting as he let out a soft ‘oh’ - the inside of the clam wowing him with its exquisite colors and shades. Its interior gleamed, the hues of violet and pink dancing in a beautiful array of color. It seemed to glitter when wet with the crystalline waters, in its small surface hiding away the sparkle that could truly outshine a starry sky.

“My, [F/N]... It’s beautiful.” Lyney had breathed out, the corners of his mouth lifting in the most genuine of smiles he’d bless her with. His eyes glanced to her own, the smallest pink dust now on his cheeks as he held it close to his heart, his sweetheart in turn smiling as well with his honest reaction.

“I’m glad!” She sighed softly, her arms resting on his lap as her shoulders tensed slightly. “In truth, I got you this conch because its interior… It reminds me of your beautiful eyes.”

The smile he previously had slowly faded, though it wasn’t due to anything more than the sheer surprise her statement brought him. The magician blinked twice as he took her words in, his hand reopening to examine the gift once more. That same wondrous shade of violet the conch had… Had it reminded her of his eyes? Did his [F/N], perhaps, see his eyes in such a light?

“They’re a similar shade, though I still think your eyes are far prettier…” [F/N] confessed, her voice nearly drowning amongst the waters as she whispered in such a soft tone. By that point she rested her head on his lap, the love in which she gazed upon him with being enough to rival an entire ocean. “Everytime I swim through the waters, I find myself fixating on the prettiest little things. They always seem to remind me of you… Whether it be due to the similar color of your eyes, or how they remind me of the stories you’ve told me- L-Lyney?”

He hadn’t even realized how the tears had begun to overflow, streaming down his round cheeks as he attempted to compose himself. He simply couldn’t however, an embarrassed and short chuckle escaping from his throat as he attempted to clear the droplets of water away. His smile was trembling, the blush on his face worsening as his eyes grew a little red. Why was he even crying? It certainly wasn’t what he wished for, worrying his sweetheart in such a way… One thing he was certain of though, it wasn’t due to sadness. He felt his heart bursting instead, overjoyed despite the delicate state in which his emotions were. It was as though everything had overwhelmed him, the way in which [F/N]’s words patched a hole in his heart and soothed him, sending him over the edge as he tried to fight back against the knot that was forming on his throat.

“Ah, I’m sorry, darling. I-I’m okay, I ap-pologize for crying in such a sudden way, I-I didn’t want you worry you-”

“It’s okay, look at me…” [F/N] hushed him softly, bringing herself a little more out of her water before coaxing him to pry his hands away from his face. Lyney could only oblige to her, feeling as her damp hands gently caressed his hot skin, cooling his cheeks as her thumbs cleaned the tears away. Her eyebrows were furrowed in honest concern for him, gazing deeply into the same violet eyes she had declared to adore so deeply. “...You’ve been feeling overwhelmed, haven’t you my love?”

It had been her turn to read him like an open book, the weak and semi-forced smile he’d mustered being enough of an answer for her. He was by that point attempting to hold back the sobs from escaping, though it was as though Lyney himself wasn’t even sure how he’d suddenly unraveled in such an indecent way. He was happy at that moment, he was sure of it, yet it had been as though [F/N]’s pour of pure love for him had opened the lock that kept everything else away, as well.

In truth, he hadn’t felt so… Loved, for a long while.

He knew he was loved and cared for, yet still. Those past few weeks had been rough. And the mere way his dear [F/N], an innocent person who had little to no idea of all of his uglier sides, could so deeply love him to the point where the most simplest and beautiful things reminded her of him - it had shattered him into the most beautiful million pieces, like glitter that fell down into oblivion.

“Here...” [F/N] softly hummed to him, her embrace enveloping him as he didn’t think twice to reciprocate. Lyney held her tightly, her tail close to his lower body as she held him carefully, letting him seek the comfort he needed on her shoulder as she lulled him above the water. “It’s okay… You must’ve been very busy with everything in your life, haven’t you? Are you doing okay?”

He could only nod, attempting to reassure her he was alright, hanging by, at least. [F/N] never pressured him to reveal more, which was always something he deeply cherished. He never wished to hide anything from her, yet all the same, he knew he was selfish for never wishing to warp her perception of him… After all, once upon [F/N] knowing of all of him, would he still be able to be only Lyney with her, too?

“And are Lynette and Freminet okay, too?” She questioned gently, her voice humming as they stood there, floating in the refreshing waters. Again he nodded, a sigh of relief escaping her as she stroked through his hair gently. “I’m glad.”

“Sorry, love, I didn’t want our little date to go this route,” He heaved softly, finally gathering the courage to lift from her neck, eyeing her with a small frown. Instead of finding any look of concern or disappointment however, his lovely girlfriend instead smiled gently at him. “I assure you, I am very happy with your gift and your presence, it’s just…”

“It’s okay Lyney, don’t apologize. I will love you regardless, you don’t have to always force happiness. Everyone needs to let it all out from time to time.” His grasp on her only tightened after that, his smile more genuine as he basked in her words. “You don’t have to tell me everything if you don’t feel ready to, I’ll still be here for you! Now, how about we go for a swim to try and lighten up?”

“That sounds… Like a wonderful idea.” He hummed, leaning into her touch as she cleared the last few tears that spilled out. It was his turn to rest his hand on her cheek, caressing her skin with all the love he had for her, leaning in before planting a small yet still meaningful kiss to the corner of her lips.

In turn, the mermaid giggled in satisfaction. “Good, are you ready?”

“Ah yes, let me just…” Quickly he secured the gift she’d given him to one of his pockets, ensuring it wouldn’t float away to his possible dismay. [F/N] watched with endearment over how he seemed to cherish the small gift so religiously, her hands guiding him deeper into the waters before they finally submerged.

The waters were tranquil, enveloping the two of them like a welcoming blanket. The current was soft and welcoming, the bright sun allowing them to view the ecosystems perfectly as they swam. [F/N]’s hand remained locked with Lyney’s, her pace slower than what he very much knew she was capable of as they went side by side. Together they went through the lesser known paths of the giant coral reefs where [F/N] resided, the small otters she shared her home with welcoming them with cute squeaks as they swam nearby them. Lyney smiled as one brought another conch to him, this one simple and pink in color, his girlfriend giggling along before having another look at it.

“They seem to adore you!”

“Is that so?” He laughed softly, his hand squeezing hers tighter as they swam a little quicker. “Mhm, do you think they’d find a magic trick a fair payback for their kind gesture?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’d find it amusing,” He watched with happiness as she laughed at the mere idea of him entertaining a bunch of otters with his cards. “Even I am curious about how that would go, now!”

“Then next time we come swimming, I will be sure to bring my deck.” Lyney nodded his head, utterly serious about his next endeavor. After all, an audience of cute otters… Well, they weren’t cats, but cute and easier to please nonetheless.

[F/N] cautiously led him through the shoals of fishes that swam throughout the pristine waters, smiling as she pointed along, telling him more of each species. The magician could only smile and listen, the mere sound of her voice easing his heavy heart, casting all pressure aside as his worries were washed away with the current. Their swim wasn’t long, yet it seemed to be effective in easing his mind, providing him the comfort he needed to rebalance his state of mind. Before he knew it and wished for, the time for him to leave approached, and knowing so as well, [F/N] gently led him back to the surface, their journey ending on the same rock in which they would regularly meet at.

Lyney still remained there for a little longer, his body soaking in the sun that was still up in the sky. He patiently waited for most of his clothes to dry, conversing with his lovely [F/N] all the while as they shared laughter and reminisced over fond memories. And when he no longer could avoid his inevitable departure, he leaned down, meeting [F/N] halfway as she remained mostly submerged under the water.

“Thank you, mon coeur. I can’t properly express just how much you mean to me…” He’d breathed out, it fanning over her face in a gentle notion that caused her to blush in response.

“It’s nothing, Lyney. I love you, after all. Anything I can do to help you, I will.” She smiled sincerely, the magician swearing he could only hear his heart bursting with the loveliest of fireworks.

“Then…” He leaned closer, his fingers stroking her jawline softly. “Will you give me your afternoon tomorrow? I would love to whisk your attention away for myself, if you’ll indulge me…”

The way her eyes sparkled at his suggestion made him fall in love all over again. “Of course! I will wait for you here, as always.”

“That’s my good girl.” He smiled with both mischievousness and adoration, his lips capturing hers once more. Against his chest he held the conch she’d gifted him, having ensured he hadn’t lost it amidst their voyage. “I will be back tomorrow, okay darling?”

“And I shall be here, my love.” [F/N] whispered, another faint kiss being shared before Lyney forced himself to finally get up.

It always was as though a piece of him remained with her each time he left, a small and painful gap in his heart remaining unfilled until he would inevitably return. Yet still, he would have it no other way, for in his beloved mermaid’s hands lay his heart, bare and true, for her to safekeep.

Lyney was many things - a magician, an older brother, a member of the fatui. But with [F/N], on those waters that would wash his worries away, he could be simply himself, no labels attached. And were anyone to call him selfish he’d fully embrace it, for it was something he would always protect, and never give up. She was his solace, and he would forever treasure her for the unconditional love she provided.

#genshin lyney x reader #genshin impact lyney x reader #lyney x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #yoko drabbles

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rise-my-angel · 7 months

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

27 - The Winter Rose

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 16.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, descriptions of blood and violence, mentions of character death, imprisonment, minor self harm, discussions of miscarriage and child loss, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, possessiveness

Notes: I'm sure this chapter title and the last chapter title have no deeper meaning whatsoever. Nope just totally, utterly random. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

You were thankful Maester Pylos was easier going then most, meaning he was quick enough and familiar enough with you to listen when you told him not to ask anything about it. His eyes were drawn right to the scar as he looked over your bruised ribs, but he kept his word and said nothing regarding it. At least for the most part. As he moved on to carefully cleaning the somewhat still bloody wound on your forearm he did however comment in jest, “Should I be concerned if these ones do not heal? That might make acquiring more in battle leave you looking a little worse for wear, your grace.”

You huffed a laugh before wincing. “Don’t, I’m in too much pain to laugh.” Glancing out the open window to the night sky, your eyes narrowed in a weary thought before finding that voice. “Pylos, when did Maester Cressen...”

He pause in his work as he glanced up almost in an apologetic manner. “Not long after the start of the war. He-” Trying to cut himself off before you sat up straighter to look at him did he feel the pressure to continue. “I mean not to speak ill of him, but it was at his own hand. Poison in a goblet of wine, hoping to share a toast with the red woman. It worked on him, but not her.”

Both looking at the other in a dreaded silence, neither were sure what to make of it. Even now, with what you had lived and Pylos had seen. You swallowed heavily before relaxing a bit to let him continue in quiet. “Who else?” His eyebrows raised and your voice found itself lowering in roughness. “Who else is gone? Because of this woman?”

Sighing deeply, Pylos pulled away. Sitting back as he looked sympathetically. “There was your uncles. Lord Renly first, then Ser Axell-” Your head shot up in a confusion for a moment repeating his name as Pylos nodded. “Yes. Your father had allowed the red woman to..burn alive those who did not convert to the Lord of Light, and Ser Axell was amongst them.”

Your heart sunk in your chest, what had you allowed this woman to turn you into father?

“One of your own cousins was to be sacrificed until Ser Davos betrayed his grace’s word and aided the boy in escaping-” You repeated the word cousin with more confusion and he seemed surprised you had not known this information. “A bastard boy of Robert’s. The red woman had need of King’s blood for her witchcraft, and sought out a living bastard of Roberts and brought him here with intent to sacrifice.”

Heart skipping a beat, you heard not the footsteps approaching the door from the winding stairwell up to the top of the Sea Dragon Tower. “Robert had..well he has many bastards in King’s Landing, which one did my father bring here?”

You did not like the pause, the sorrow of something you hadn’t known. “I am so sorry, I did not realize you hadn’t known...” The pairs of feet stood outside the door, one hand holding out in front of the other figure to give a moment for both to listen. “King Joffery..he had ordered..he had ordered his City Watch to find and execute all of Robert’s bastard children. He believed that they posed a threat to his claim should the rumours of his mother and the Ser Jaime Lannister to be true. Only one remains as far as we know..”

You wanted to ask who, but the answer was sickening no matter what, because it was a boy he said. Not the innocent life of a tiny baby girl in the arms of her young, sweet mother who knew none better. What was her name? Barra? That was it, the little girl with already growing dark hair and green eyes that shined up at you when she woke up in her mother’s arms.

Lord Baelish had never specified how many of them were out there, but you could only imagine the truth. You had on more then one occasion come across the outside of his chambers, Ser Jaime Lannister posed morosely outside forced to listen to your uncle with however many women he drew into his bed that time. It was one of the few times in those last few months before Lord Arryn’s death that you and the Lannister had found genuine common ground.

That both of you found it nothing but an insult to force a brother to listen to his King insult his sister, no matter how little love existed in such a marriage. You both had joked how judging by the sounds, you couldn’t tell if it was worse if the number of women he had inside was more or less then the number you had thought of. Watching girl after girl leave and sometimes return or a new one would show, and how many of them had sons or daughters which now lay dead at your repulsive cousins hands?

Before Pylos could speak more of it, the door to his study opened and the tense air was cut short as both Jon and Ser Davos walked in. Pylos making motion to stand only to be stopped by Jon offhandedly waving off the need of a gesture of formality. Yourself however, stood as you and Davos looked to one another, a full volume of regret somewhere behind his eyes. “Your Grace, I came to apologize.”

Were Jon’s head and heart not still racing in something treading close to anger, he may have found the strength in him to laugh at how easily you dismissed that, almost not even having realized there was any slight to apologize for. “Unless you’ve committed a crime in the hours since I last saw you, you haven’t done anything I’ve taken offence with. You've known me my whole life, that allows you to think I'm an idiot sometimes.”

Almost dropping his face a bit more flat as he looked at you, tone a bit heavier but more flat as well thankfully. “What has the world come to, when it’s easier to apologize to Stannis than it is you?” Both of you had a small laugh at such, you stepping forward as Pylos gave more space to those all in the room.

Crossing your arms there was a beat passed between you before your own voice found the right words, “I should be the one to apologize. After what happened to Matthos..being on the other side of it wouldn’t make it any easier, it was the best option we had but that doesn’t change..” Something unsaid between both of you, and it wasn’t your place or anyone's but Davos himself to truly bring it up all on his own volition. “What I’m trying to say is, I am the one whose sorry.”

The room was quiet as was his own voice a little far away with a tinge of amusement. “Don’t imagine it’s good manners to reject a Queen’s apology.”

Only that made you laugh, and laugh hard enough that you had to stop mid way through with a wince at your ribs. “You should hear the way some of my own men speak to me, I’m not what one would call particular with manners anymore.” Your eyes shifted a bit more stern however, a question tinted on your lips to follow. “Dare I ask whats been done with our new prisoners?”

“Most of the Golden Company has been put in the main dungeons, none to happy with how crowded it is but least they’re far enough down we won’t hear them complain.” Nodding, brows narrowing as he read that too. “As for our honoured guests,” a twist of jest in his tone matching his expression to choose his words carefully. “They’ve been put in separate cells for now, Connington requesting one for each of them away from the other.”

All four in the room found something strange in such a thought, but there was little to ponder over it in the moment. Jon had been standing some feet back, arms crossed over his chest with a dark, narrowed anger in his eyes that matched the rough strain held back in his own voice. “If they are willing to cooperate I can work something out with Stannis. Their army in the dungeon, I have no reason to keep them there as well. If they hear us out they might be of some help, if not, I see no reason they can’t at least have freedom to stay here or leave.”

You nodded, having not a clue what such a conversation with your father would look like and yet it seemed most of the reasonable ones anymore were between him and Jon now. Working together in White Harbour was the most you had gotten along with him since he was still in King’s Landing. It was not your place to question that, nor did you feel the need too. As long as whatever he wanted, wasn’t going to push Jon into anything he didn’t want.

All was quiet as the three of you now walked the halls back towards the ground level, you finding specific instructions to Davos. “Gather enough men to check around the curtain cliffs for structural damage. It’s hard enough getting around this place without those paths getting cut off. And tell Amos to start clearing the bay when the rest of it has put itself out. I don’t want our shores turning into a graveyard.”

Making his leave, you found enough drive still flowing through you that you had thought to tun to Jon with something else entirely on your mind only to have him glance down the hall, before his face twisted in a deep irritation. Grabbing you by the arm and all but hauling you into a small alcove just around an empty corner. Crowding you in and instant, hands roughly holding you by your upper arms as he looked you over, the blood and grime he found even more minimal then it was still on himself before letting them fly up to cup your cheeks.

His hold was tender, but the raggedness in his voice certainly was not. “What in Seven Hells did you think you were doing out there?”

If the look in his eyes weren’t such a brightness that yet gleaned with something desperate you may have teased him, but instead your heart only dropped further then it sat within your chest. You noticeably, did not reach out to him in anyway. “We needed Connington to surrender, I did what needed to be done. “

“By putting yourself in danger?” Trying to defend yourself, Jon cut you off with his voice trying to raise but being unwilling to go anything near a yell this close to you. “What happened if you lost?”

You on the other hand, were a bit louder but high pitched in an unsure lack of confidence as he stared you down. “Aegon wasn't about to give up, he wasn't going to go willingly I had to do something.”

This time, something uncomfortable had boiled in Jon’s chest and did in fact, come out as a yell with an anger rushing through. His hands on your face dropped as he tried to turn away, only getting a few feet away before his face still twisted in anger faced you again.

“I never would’ve let you anywhere near this fight if I knew this was what you were going to do.” If he expected you to argue, you didn’t. Deep down he knew you wouldn’t. His voice a little quieter but just as on edge as he ran a hand across his mouth before he turned closer to point at you almost in a lecture. “I shouldn’t even let you within fifty feet of a sword if you think your best chance is to always throw yourself at the enemy first.”

Again, you didn’t fight him in any way. Instead your nails dug into the skin of your other fingertips as your arms sat tensely at your side, jaw clenching as you flickered between his face and the ground beside him.

Your voice far more quiet and unsure then his anger. “I’m the one who actually saw you dead, you know.” His eyes narrowed briefly but you looked away again. “You weren’t there, you didn’t see me at the Twins. You weren’t the one between us who sat there staring at your corpse all beacuse you were a few hours too late to stop it. First time you felt my scar was when I was alive, I felt yours when you were dead long enough down there your skin was turning blue.”

He had barley moved, and your voice hadn’t raised. It wavered in between upset and something darker but you just stood quiet and stiff, Jon trying to gently call your name but your jaw clenched further. A shake of your head before you continued to stare away from him. “You’re so afraid of losing me out there but I know exactly what you look like when you’re dead. You don’t think I hate not being strong enough to be at your side, to have your back if no one else does? Or do you think it’s just easy for me to imagine coming up after a battle and seeing you on the ground exactly like you were that morning?”

You looked up to him finally and found instead all the anger had transferred to your eyes, only a heartbreaking softness left in his, but now as Jon stood there you knew he wasn’t certain if reaching out to you again was a good idea. Not when you were this on edge.

“Do you really think I’m fine with the fact that I’m too weak to protect you?”

He wanted to reach out to you so badly but you’d flinch away from him the second he even twitched in your direction. His grey eyes swimming with that need however and could not hide it from your own eyes distant in a pain. Your name murmured on his lips, “Why do you think I asked you if you wanted to learn how to use a sword?” Your eyebrow raised in confusion, “That night in Winterfell, why do you think I wanted to teach you when I caught you looking at the practice swords?”

It was still one of you fondest memories of that visit. How you had been so caught off guard he swiped at your legs and it sent you knocking to the ground. Looking up in confused anger to see a fourteen year old Jon, that dashing smirk on his lips as he swung his own practice one around in one hand looking down at you. His voice at that point already having developed so close to the deep raspiness it was to this day.

He had teased you about not turning your back on your enemies before helping you up. Accepting the shove you gave him.

Risking taking a step forward, you tensed a little as you looked away but you otherwise did not try and back away from him. Jon’s voice growing softer as he spoke, trying to coax your eyes to his. “I never thought you’d ever need it. Never thought you’d find yourself having a life where you’d need to protect yourself like that. I only asked if you wanted to learn how, beacuse I wanted an excuse to spend time alone with you.”

Your eyes didn’t meet his, but you looked closer, enough that the gaze now trained on Longclaw sat at his side, brows slightly narrowed. “You spent plenty of time with me, in those days.”

Jon risked another step forward, and you tried not to let it choke up inside you how careful he tended to be when he could see whenever you were in a more high strung state. He always knew exactly when and how far to keep his distance until you settled enough. “Not the way I wanted. You spent most of your days working beside my father and when you weren’t there was always something trying to take your time away from me. It was an excuse to spend time with you and no one would be around to interrupt.”

Glancing more up, you found the blood splattered across his chest plate, somewhat covering the direwolves. You more mumbled then anything, not having the ability to argue at the best of times with Jon. “I didn’t learn how to use a bow to set a thousand men on fire, but that came in handy when the time needed it.”

Jon’s hands itched but he kept them to himself. “Never in my life did I think teaching you all those years ago meant you’d be putting your life in danger beacuse of it. I didn’t think you’d ever have any use for it, and I don’t expect you to do it now.”

It was a mistake looking up, his grey eyes were so wide and bright. A shine to them which radiated something so beautiful as it echoed against the rest of his face. How more women didn’t fall madly in love with Jon, you did not understand. Because even now, they were enough to make you melt enough he stepped within a foot of you. You tried to speak multiple times, but ultimately let a sigh out as you looked away from him in your own frustration. “I knew if I could get him alone, I might be able to overwhelm him quicker then he could me.

Looking back up at him, neither of you held any anger anymore. You both hated having to be together in a life full of blood. You hated it with Robb, and you hated it now. None of the lives you ever planned out as a wishful little girl included this much war and death. Jon tilted your head up with a tender touch at your jaw, making you meet his eyes as he leaned close enough you could feel his breathe dancing across your skin.

His other hand reached out, grasping your hand to guide it to his waist before settling his on yours, almost a prompt to tell you to let your other do the same thing. Which you obeyed. His tone was as gentle as he could make it, light and airy as he gently pressed a kiss to your forehead before meeting your eyes again. “And if Aegon had killed you, I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him myself.” The almost loving tone as he ran his hand on your jaw along the skin to your cheek contrasted quite strangely with the dedicated violence of his words. “You’re duty isn’t to put yourself in danger, and it’s my duty to keep you safe. I’m only asking you to stop making my job so hard.”

Finally, he had managed to pull a breathy laugh from you. Him returning one back, leaning a bit more into you with his own mesmerizing smile as he did so. One of your hands on his waist jumped up, going from there right up to dancing your fingertips along his chest plate, not caring much to avoid the blood as he you traced over the direwolves. “I didn’t do it to scare you.”

“I know.” His hand moved to run across the back of your head, his fingers clearly toying with the idea of pulling your hair loose as he was there. “I’m not trying to make it seem like I want to control you, it..I hate that I can’t always be there to protect you. I know you can take care of yourself, but you shouldn’t have to. And I know I have to work on that, on accepting that.”

Nodding, the air between you both felt much less suffocating then before. Hard to overcome the fact that you found it scary, the idea of arguing with Jon. He felt things deeply and intensely, and you hated the thought that you could ever be the one to set him off in a bad way. Especially in moments like this, his grey eyes so soft and full painted towards you and hands gentle like you were the delicate thing to treasure in his touch.

Letting your hands reach up and cup the sides of his cheek and jaw, he moved with you in an instant as if reading every inch of your mind. Leaning down to meet you half way, the second his lips gently brushed against yours, he moved to grab your waist to steady you against him. Nothing more then a gentle dance without pushing the other too far, and yet Jon’s hands kept growing tighter despite the kiss growing no more heated.

The second a tiny sigh slipped from you as you parted, a light dizziness in your head with a satisfied hum along with it however, was a step too far. Jon’s hands suddenly dropping down to your hips, and the innocence of the moment died out as he, somewhat roughly, pushed you against the wall. His lips kissing you harshly, deepening it the second you grabbed at his shoulders with a whine, crowding you against it before letting one hand slip to the back of your head.

This time, he pulled out the ties keeping your hair up without needing a single glance. Running through the loose strands before yanking your head to tilt up so he could press against you entirely. Biting at your lip only once before demanding you let him slip his tongue inside your mouth, running along yours as the hold on your hair was keeping your lips from being able to part from him whatsoever.

It was the exact same thing as before it seemed, you with nothing but innocent intentions and Jon let it consume him like an inhuman force blinding him with a raw lust. Your hands reached up to let his hair loose but were caught in their path as Jon all but shoved your legs apart, moving a knee to invade the space between. As he shoved that same knee up against between your legs, he used his grip on your hip to grind you down against it, powerless against his strength to stop it.

Biting your lips, running his tongue along yours and tasting your mouth with an increasing demand and greed as he started to guide your hips to move in a harsh but slow grind. Too many layers keeping you from feeling it so directly, but Jon was unfair in how strong he was and he kept you pressed against him as he moved you along until he felt your hands shake against your hold on his shoulders.

Your insides burned as his did, screaming in fire at you, but not to be put out. A pleasure that twisted and turned like a coil to snap at any moment begging him to throw you into the flames at his own mercy, and your heart raced so much those across the castle were like to hear it pounding. It was as if something took over, pulling finally from your lips as his eyes now black as the night outside looked into yours.

His lips red and swollen as he hadn’t pulled from you enough to break the small strands of saliva his kiss brought between you. Lips parted he breathed heavily until he looked down, keeping you against his knee as one hand now flew to find just enough room at the edge of your pants to slip down.

Jon’s mind aggressively thinking about how much he wanted to be home. Bring you home to Winterfell so he could go back to you having the freedom to walk around in your beautiful dresses and there would be not a thing in his way but your tiny layer of fabric that he could soak you through in seconds.

Teeth almost gritting as he hissed, finding your clit as the rest of your core was shoved too tightly against his knee, still moving you against him only now his fingers pushed more. Running harsh and tightly over the sensitive spark before almost twisting it as if it were the small buds on your breasts he would roughly yank at, twist so cruelly but on something now that made you cry out.

His mouth covered yours instantly, brows furrowed as he did so as if he was angry someone might have heard you. Running your covered core along his knee and his fingers rubbing, twisting and playing with your clit as he licked his way back into your mouth, keeping you unable to moan out loud or catch your breathe. Tensing hard in his arms, Jon pushed his knee up firmer and forced your hips down as much as he could as he ran his fingers tightly and twisted the core in you so suddenly.

But you tensed up, gasped into his kiss and then nothing. He pulled away. Again. His hand, his knee, even his lips. He stood almost a foot away from you, hands now steadying you by your upper arms again as you felt so stinging you wanted to cry. Three times now, and it was starting to be painful each time he refused you. Husking down at you, accent so thick only you could understand it from being so close, “Please, don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again.”

Almost unable to speak through the thick fog in your head you nodded, but he pulled you by a hand at your chin so as he spoke his lips brushed yours. “I want you to promise me, darling. Promise you’ll never do anything like that again.”

You weren’t in the right mind to guess which, but you wondered far off if he had done this on purpose or not. Put you in such a desperate state to get you to agree to anything he’d ask, or was this just out of his own worried panic over your safety fighting with some darker need he held for you?

Either way, your hands ran along his chest plate again as you nodded,“I won’t. I won’t do it again, I promise.” Looking to his eyes, they were almost seen as water hidden behind their depths as he looked at you almost heartbreakingly. “Jon..” You bit your lip almost nervously to ask, it sounding too innocent in your airy tone for such a request, “Could..we...”

But Jon only kissed you again, one last bite to your bottom lip as his tongue ran gently over the marks his teeth left and pulling back again. His hand cupping the back of your hair once more, the other now gentle on your waist. “No.” Your eyes squeezed closed in frustration as he kissed your forehead again, speaking against the skin there too. “But I want you to start keeping track of how often I don’t let you.”

Your brows furrowing as your heart still beat loud in your ears, “Why?”

He pressed another kiss to your forehead, this time more gentle and loving. Resting his own against it as he curled the hand on your waist around your lower back to pull you more into a gentle embrace. “Because however many times I take it away from you, I’m going to double. Give you twice as many to make up for it whenever I fuck you. You’re looking at how many? Six? Eight?”

You actually laughed, and so did he. Your head falling onto his shoulder as you shook with an exhausted laughter. “Remember that day in the wolfswood when I admitted I didn’t know what having one feels like? I’ve decided I regret ever telling you that now.” He asked why and you could hear the grin, “Because you only let me have one after doing this exact thing three times then.”

Jon didn’t respond right away, but it wasn’t even in lust he retorted. Almost just enough in a dry tone that you would smack him for being a smart ass, were you still children. “If I’m adding those three, then we are up to at least twelve.” You sighed, and he grinned more. Pulling you against his chest with both arms, one more around the back of your head now as yours were at his waist. “Keep talking, darling. I’ll keep adding them. I’ll be between your legs sun down to sun up at this pace.”

Sometimes it was hard to tell if your fathers men gave a hard time just to see how long your resolve would put up with it. You had been going back and forth before the man finally accepted the orders and made his leave.

The deep rumbling of a familiar voice came up to your side as you stood watching the men around the main gates working to clear and clean of the dead. “I’d throw them off the sides of that cliff before I let a lanky shit talk to me like that.”

Glancing up to your right to find Tormund watching the same as you did before glancing to you with an amused raise in an eyebrow. You turned back with little expression, voice as flat and done with this night as before. “I grew up here. Known most of these men my whole life, they talk to me like that because they know I let them. They certainly wouldn’t speak to my father that way.”

You tried not to glance to where he was in the distance. You felt a bit conflicted on how to handle things. On one hand, you were greatly thankful for him in just the blood spilling hours before and yet Pylos’s words rung in your mind and you couldn’t stop thinking of it. You didn’t know about your uncle, he was your mother’s own brother as well how much had been burned to dust and bone on these shores?

“You did well.” Glancing back up at him with curiosity, “On the cliff. You did well, not an easy climb that kind of rock but I was impressed. You and the Greyjoy.”

Smirking you shrugged a shoulder before crossing your arms over your torso. “Should I in return congratulate or apologize that your daughters husband lives to see another day?” He chuckled deeply, and it brought a smirk out of you. Taking a moment to let it simmer before you turned to something more on the side of quiet. “Would you have it in you to do more of that, or was this a one and done sort of deal?”

Turning to face you with an amused interest, he played just as coy. “Depends on the pretty crow’s offer.”

You however jumped right to the point. “The mines we’re here for, there’s tunnels all under the island but the easier ones to access are still mostly untouched. I have a few I know that I’ve worked my way through, but before I bring any of the others down there, I need to make sure I have everything in place so I can at the least have people get down to the main surface floor without scaling untouched walls in the dark. Would be nice to have someone who knows what they’re doing down with me.”

Tormund smirked, “Not even a challenge, between you and me, we could have those tunnels ready in a few hours we leave early enough.” You nodded appreciatively, back to looking at the winding stones some now had worked to wash the blood from. “I’d ask how early we should start tomorrow but I have a feeling it won’t be so easy convincing Snow to let you out of bed, to go spend time in a confined dark space with another man so soon.” Your eyes narrowed in confusion as he laughed. “Your fancy castle is large, but it doesn’t hide as much as you think.”

Your voice cracked as you suddenly hoped the earth would open and drop you into the sea. “I’m not sure I know what you are implying.”

Tormund leaned in, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and dragged you into his side without care. “All the advice I’ve given him, and he didn’t even let you cum.” Perhaps you could climb to the top of Dragonmont and dive into the molten liquid if you ran fast enough. “Could join you, let me teach him by example, how to treat a woman right if he’s that fucking cruel. Show him what he’s missing out on with you.” The grin in his voice was so thick as you knew your face was flushed and mortified.

Barley finding the confidence to mumble out, “You’re getting closer and closer to me shoving you off the edge of the mine, Tormund. Right at the very top.”

There was no noise except for the echo of footsteps as they walked down the corridor. Much torchlight hung by the walls and there were enough in each heavy iron door that you knew at least he would be sitting in more then darkness. As the guards opened the door, you nodded at them pointedly. “Leave us.”

The door closing behind with a loud clang keeping you in the open space of the dungeon cell, and a thick set of metal bars adorning the second half of the room keeping him apart. Sat on the ground with one knee bend up towards him and the other splayed out on the ground, the heaviest of his armour having been taken off him and he now looked quite like an ordinary man.

His eyes met yours with a curiosity. Your voice was low and even with nothing to give away in tone or even your face. “Do you know who I am?”

His answer at least was simple in response of your name, ending with Baratheon before he paused and corrected himself with little effort in him put forth. “Or, I suppose it’s Snow isn’t it? If we are being proper, that is.”

It made sense you supposed in your mind. Jon Snow was King in the North, and you were Queen at his side and most would presume so due to marriage. But it wasn’t anything worth the effort to correct him on. You didn’t come down here to discuss Jon.

Looking at Jon Connington you could see the shorter dark orange of his hair that gave his face more youth then the lines and exhaustion blessed him otherwise. “You requested to be away from your men, may I inquire as to why?”

Glancing up at you, his own eyes narrowed trying to sense the double agenda in your question but you knew he would find none. You played no games now. He sighed deeply, looking back at the adjacent wall with a morose tone. “I led sell swords here, not an army. They aren’t too forgiving of failure, even less so with being forced to surrender. It was safer to put me and him on our own, and I knew you wouldn’t let us together.”

Giving him one nod before inhaling deeply as you looked at him now with more curiosity. “The Golden Company has never successfully taken anything in Westeros before, they will come back around from this. We out numbered you, more than you suspected we would if I am guessing correctly.”

Laughing with nothing behind it’s meaning, “That you did. Lord Varys’s little birds were wrong. About many things it seems.” You raised an eyebrow and the silence sat between until he realized this was not a back and forth. “Either he didn’t know about Stannis Baratheons army or he didn’t tell me. Also tried to spook me, saying your husband was some dead man. A walking monster stabbed in the heart. Looks perfectly fine to me.”

The walking monsters of undead nature were that of cold and ice, not flesh and blood. But the knife in the heart was all the same. “He isn’t here, Lord Varys. Why?”

Connington barley moved, “I don’t know. Left some days before tonight, had business to attend to elsewhere and said no more on it. He isn’t a man who gives away his secrets,” You agreed and it had him hesitate and turn to look up at you. “How would you know that?”

Stepping closer your posture loosened a little bit, making him relax as well. “My father and I both served on the small council for some years. Spent much time around Lord Varys, so yes my lord, I know exactly the kind of secret’s he is capable of telling. Or not telling.”

Oh the glare Connington gave you almost was enough to have you laugh. “So, how does your father being King work? He claims to be the Protector of the Realm, but his daughter and heir is married to an independent Northern King? Things sure seem to have changed since I’ve been gone.”

“By change you mean there’s more freedom to rule outside of your beloved Targaryeans?” His eyes shot over to you, and while there was no malice on your face there was something unsettling in your eyes deep if he searched hard enough. You stepped closer again. “There was only a Seven Kingdoms because those people flew in with dragons and scorched the earth and it’s people. So you can imagine I am not quite convinced on Aegon’s claim when this country is only just beginning to find footing on it’s own once again.”

Sighing deeply, Connington’s jaw clenched as he stared harshly at he wall but his voice spit out in a hiss, “So this is who rules now? The Targaryeans fought against you Baratheon’s and Starks and now you get to be the ones who are in charge?”

Your voice was non confrontational however, you didn’t come for a fight but you knew you hit a sore spot. “For the Iron Throne? It’s a three way tie currently. The Lannisters sit on the throne, my father fights for it and apparently the remaining Targaryean still alive ,wishes to come back to seek it as well.” You came close to the bars, him still a number of feet away even if you were to press right up against the cold metal. “The Starks want nothing to do with the Iron Throne. We have bigger fights in the North then for an ugly iron chair.”

That you didn’t realize, was just almost enough to get a smirk out of the man. He turned his head lazily to look up at you, “Thought you were a Snow not a Stark.”

If he was trying to be clever, you saw through it. “You and I both know that Lord Varys has told you exactly who Jon is. Who his father is.” That made him clench his jaw harder, turn away with a rigid uncomfortable look in his eyes in an instant. Crouching down to see him more at his eye level you narrowed your eyes at him. “Let's not play word games. We both are aware of who exactly you were fighting against out there.”

Connington sighed, an arm coming to rest against his knee and hold his face in his palm before flying it back down to whip his neck around to you. “Is that why you are here? To discuss Eddard Stark’s bastard son?”

If he was on edge before, he paled now as you whispered into the silent air. “I’m here to discuss his aunt. Lyanna Stark. I’m sure your familiar with the name.” He said not a word, and you felt it seep heavy into the very air you both breathed. “I am going to be perfectly honest with you, my lord. Neither me nor Jon care about Aegon’s fight for the Iron Throne. He asked one thing of you in peace and you and him all but declared war for something on this island you didn’t even know was there. I don’t care if Aegon is fighting for the Iron Throne, what I want to know is how he’s even here in the first place.” Leaning forward you lowered your voice to something a little more annoyed with him. “Do we both know what I’m referring to or do we need to refresh our memories about the end of the rebellion? And how every single person in the Seven Kingdoms assumed Aegon died as a baby when Gregor Clegane smashed his face into a wall so hard it was unrecognizable.”

That did not sit nicely on his face. At all. He swallowed had with as much horror swimming in his eyes as you always felt imagining such a monstrous act. You let him sit in the quiet for a good few minutes, and you sat patiently waiting. “He was already two when they brought him to me.” Your eyes narrowed but otherwise remained entirely impassive. “Lord Varys and this associate of his, they approached me with this whole thing. I- I didn’t even know Aegon had survived...I had no idea...but then there he was..the only thing left of him right in front of me and them pleading me to help.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“Raise him. Take care of him, help make him ready. Train him to take the Iron Throne when he’s ready and hide with him until then. As father and son. Out of everyone in the world I had thought, me, Rhaegar trusted me with his son.” Your eyes grew dark and sharp but said nothing. There was a distant affection and lightness in his voice that was so far away you knew it tinged in a present pain. “I had lost him, but I had his son. Rhaegar’s own blood trusted in my hands to raise..I don’t know why he was smuggled out..or why she wasn’t..”

Rhaenys he meant. Why what sounded like nothing more than an innocent, sweet girl was left behind to be slaughtered.

He swallowed heavily, and his voice shattered to a waver. Not once did he look at you. “I spent his whole life waiting for him to become Rhaegar. The day I would wake up and see him, in his face, his eyes, anything. But..I’m still looking. I spent Ageon’s whole life waiting to see when he would turn into his father that sometimes...I feel like I missed his life..the life he had when he was just..my son. I failed his father, and now I’m failing the son too.”

Whatever was choking him on the inside, wrapped its tendrils around your throat and squeezed until something rough was forced out. “You didn’t fail. Rhaegar was the one who failed.” Connington’s eyes met yours, and it was a sorrow you rarely saw on people. “I don’t know Aegon, I didn’t know Rhaegar, but I knew the damage he left behind. I spent half my life growing up with a family that his actions led to their deaths before the war was over, and that pain has never gone away. I saw that pain live and fester in Robert’s eyes until it was so strong it almost killed what good in him was left. Good men don’t leave pain like that behind.”

Deep blue eyes and dark curls in your mind were clear as if he were right in front of you. Robb being gone was agony, but he left no pain behind. Only the agony of loss, and the desperate love of so many who knew the truth that he was the best of so many of you. Good men are like Robb, not Rhaegar.

Connington was quiet for a long time, but never asked you to leave. A quiet solace as you both thought to men you loved and lost in your own ways, but one was tinged in more guilt then the other until it spilled over as his head fell back with a thud against the dungeon wall. “For a long time I saw him everywhere. In my head, my dreams, would pass someone with just the right shade of hair that I’d trick myself into thinking there he was. I wanted to see him in Aegon so badly, but I never could. I thought I never would again, and..it wasn’t until..I suppose now I realize that maybe I don’t actually want to see him.”

“Until what?”

He looked to you with a doubt, and then he huffed a laugh. Shrugging a shoulder in a genuine amusement as he sat there behind the metal bars. “For a good minute out there, fighting your husband felt like I was back in my prime. Sparring with Rhaegar in the training arenas, getting overwhelmed by his intensity too.”

Tilting his head to you, “Damn near spooked me. Was like looking at Rhaegar how intense he was, but..he was also far better then him. I’ll give him that, your King is a skilled swordsman like I’ve ever seen. Had all of Rhaegar’s intensity and more, and I realize now that maybe I’m relieved I’ve never seen that in Aegon. I don’t know this Jon Snow, but for your sake, I hope there’s more to him then what I saw out there beacuse otherwise?” He whistled out and your face fell flat.

Your voice however had an edge to it that cut him like steel. “And you think Rhaegar was a better man?” Rhaegar thought he was better then everyone else, and that it made him untouchable. But Jon is a better man then anyone you know anymore in your current life, but he would never think that of himself. He’s a good man because that’s who he is, not beacuse he’s trying to make everyone else think so too. Leaning forward there was a real vitriol there, “Jon’s never abandoned his wife and two young children to kidnap an innocent teenage girl at the least.”

Connington’s face paled almost sickly. “Is that why you’re down here? Mock me about what he did?”

You were honest but no less hostile even in whispers. “She was Jons aunt, his fathers own sister and everything he’s heard about what your beloved prince did to her only got worse the more he was told. But he won’t ask you about it. So I will.” You leaned in as much as you could. “Why kidnap her? She died because of him, her father and brother died trying to save her. Why take her, why keep her from her family. What did he do to her that killed her so far away from where he, himself died?”

Connington’s voice was rough and you had no sympathy. “You’ve heard the story.” Asking why he did it, he said nothing. So you asked again to more nothing. Only the third did he raise his voice. “I don’t know. I don’t know why he did it. He never said what about the girl he wanted with, just that he needed her. But he had his Kingsguard keep her locked up and no one saw her until after she was already dead. He never said what he wanted with her, never told me why. And I was exiled by Aerys before I had a chance to find out.”

Leaning back, your nails dug into your palms at the guilt on his face. “Tell me one thing. The rumours of what he did to her, were those true? Or was that just the angry ramblings from Robert without any merit?”

His silence was deafening and you felt ill. Lyanna deserved better then to have men thirty years after her death, mourn the man who kidnapped and raped her until she died alone in the Dornish sands.

You backed off from him, and your tone lightened up a bit for his sake. Already struggling to look you in the eye. “Sometime soon, Jon will offer you and Aegon a peace. But I’d think long and hard, Lord Connington. Think if the man you really want Aegon to be is Rhaegar, beacuse there is none here who is on his side. But they might be on yours. You have time still. He doesn’t have to become his father, you can let him be ready at his own pace.”

“No I can’t.” You head tilted in question. “I don’t have time. Aegon needs to be ready to take the Iron Throne now or I- he can decide who he wants to be when he’s crowned but I need to sit him on the Throne as soon as possible. I...I have to do this one thing for him. I can’t fail the father and the son both.”

Your whisper was far away, “Why? Why rush into this after spending almost thirty years leading to it?”

But he shook his head. Clearing his throat before pulling his knees both up to his chest to rest his arms over them. For a while he said no more, and it wasn’t until the tense quiet of you walking towards the heavy door did he speak up. “He looks like her.”

Your head whipped around to look at him, Connington’s face more pale once again. “Jon Snow. You said he’s Lyanna Stark’s nephew? He looks like her. Suppose he looks like Eddard Stark too, but it was like looking at a gods forsaken ghost seeing him for the first time.” He laughed to himself. “Spent thirty years trying to see Rhaegar and avoid thinking about all the horrible shit he did, and in one night I feel like he, Lyanna and Robert have all come back to haunt me between the two of you.”

In only a small voice, you knew he heard you even if he didn’t acknowledge it. “You’re the one who raised him. And you surrendered for his sake beacuse you love him, not beacuse he’s Rhaegar’s. Don’t allow Rhaegar’s shadow to get in the way of that. Aegon’s not him, and he needs you for you. Not beacuse you are waiting for him to become someone else.”

As you walked out of the dungeons, all you could see was deep blue eyes against grey eyes.

For only a moment, you let yourself sit on the steps leading back to to the main floors of the castle as the night sky loomed over. Your hand traced the scar along you, and you realized maybe you weren’t the only one making that very mistake. You had been adamant to ensure your love with Robb was about him and not the guilt of Jon, and it led to a love between you both that was more then you could’ve ever imagined for the tearfully short time you were allowed to share it.

So you couldn’t do the same in return to Jon. You would always love Robb, always love the child you almost had together, but you couldn’t only see them when you looked at Jon anymore. You always said he deserved better then what the world gave him, and that included what you had been doing up until now.

The path was less treacherous then you recalled. Recently having passed your eleventh name day, you had still been small when you did this last. Your room too, it felt smaller then you remembered, cramped and uninspired with little personality. Much of you had been taken to King’s Landing where none of it existed anymore, but hidden behind a cabinet under the rug was still your spot to have searched on Dragonstone.

The path along there felt long as a girl. Long and the loud tides were frightening as if the gods telling you to stay away but each time including the fifth now, you had to pass the fear by. There was something you had to do, one last act and this time you felt horrid it was done so late.

Hopefully not only will The Mother see your beg of reason, but Robb would understand you hated not being able to do anything sooner. Whatever gods answered you now, you needed to send his son to Robb once and for all. Robb deserved that, he deserved more then that but this was all you could do.

As you came upon the clearing however, you felt a weightless sink in your stomach that almost had you drop. What more had he let her do? Your steps were suddenly slow, a painful realization that not only could the old gods of Robb not hear you from here, but perhaps the Seven of your past could not either anymore.

The statues had always sat tall and proud on the shores, close to the sept but a worship all on their own that felt closer to the earth. Four times you had come here like this, lighting a candle in the middle of each and finally to The Mother you would light all seven before beginning.

But now, only shadows remained. Burned statues of the Seven that you could hardly recognize what even had stood as what before. Burn the false idols, that was what he had let her do. You prayed in a peace to the old gods now, but not even the sliver of your life following the Seven was allowed here now. Only her fire god, as she burned any and all for him.

Now, as you stood with the torch in your hand and wind blowing your hair around with it, you only felt the pull North more intensely. Dragonstone was slowly taking away everything that was once a home with a family. Death and destruction was left.

Your hands brushed along each statues remains, and tried to recall prayers long unspoken in your mind and hoped they would accept your only offer. You knew where The Mother stood, and for once you felt a sting behind your eyes as you approached. This time it was not brothers you lost, and not your own mother by blood that you prayed for. It was you who was the almost mother praying to let the gods forgive your unborn son and pass him to his father and find peace together.

Carefully, you stuck the torch deep into the sand in front of her, and let your hands trail over the melted insides that were left. Wind blowing your hair and cloak far and wide as you begged for any hope that someone not shrouded in fire could hear you and protect him. He was your son, and you failed him and so you needed to pass him on.

You had made your way to your old bedroom earlier, shutting the door behind you sealing you alone as you pulled out the deep blue box with ornate foxes etched into it. Four hand carved toys sat inside it, four toys for your four brothers to remember by.

You had done what you did for them, written out the blessings septon would anoint a child with as they were named under the Light of the Seven. Only this time, the house sigil was that of a direwolf, and the name you called to them at the bottom had almost been enough to make you cry. The memory of horrified blue eyes looking at you with blood soaking his hands as your final memories together.

Eddard Stark

Now the burned remains sat in a small pouch along with the dagger. Pulling it out you held both ends with a choke so high in your throat were you to let it out it would sob. But the tears fell the same. You had nothing of them, nothing of either of them. Only this.

You had nothing of Robb but a scar and a dagger. His body was desecrated. He was given no funeral rites, he would not rest beside his father in the crypts of Winterfell with a faithful direwolf to guard him.

Robbs bones were lost somewhere in the Riverlands.

You could only give him this, and the tears fell as you cared not to hide them. You had a life to find now without him, with a man you truly loved but you would never find it in you to move past this kind of pain. You would always be scarred in heart with his loss, and the son you failed to give him. But you did have to accept it.

No shatters or thunder or noises to fear came about. The Mother had seen you cry and heard you in agony for the love of your life and the son you both lost, and she was allowing you to do one final thing for them.

You like four times before, stepped out into the middle of the shores, and with no wince this time, carved the dagger deep into your palm. The blood of you, Robb and your son all dried on it and now you let it twist as much as you could needing some of all three to soak your hand as you and your sons had soaked Robbs.

Letting it sit back in it’s sheath, you gently pulled out the pouch and poured it into your bleeding hand and letting the material fly elsewhere. Hand tightening around it you let your blood together soak as this was all you had of your son. Robb and you could only give him this to send him and you needed him to find his father, that was all they had of each other.

Stepping into the watering tides, you knelt down into the ground, the water surrounding you a few inches all around. Your hand sat deep into the sand as your eyes closed, kneeling down on your calves, with both hands braced beside you. The winds and tides blew around you as you saw not the blood.

Just the memory of a moment to find any joy. The memory of how scared you had been to tell him, only for Robb to haul you up into his lap and arms, the happiest you had ever seen him and the loving press of his lips against you like you gave him the world.

Eventually, your hand opened and the remains and blood all washed into the sea. You stayed there for a good long while. Eyes open looking to the stars in the night refusing to remember the pain. Only the deep love you found with him and the dreams of a family you couldn’t give him.

You hoped this far away, Robb Stark could hear you tell him you love him. Now and always.

It was more time you had planned on being away, by the time you had made your way to the room that was to be yours for a time, Jon was already stripped down from his armour and everything. Both of you having taken the time to clean the blood and grime from you before finding the other at that point as Jon now sat perched against the ledge near the open window, slight breeze flowing through his loose curls as he was cleaning the remaining blood from Longclaw back to it’s shining state.

Grey eyes soft as they looked up, you gently pushing the door closed behind you before letting your back rest against the heavy surface. A fire softly crackled in against the wall along the rooms clearing with a soft rug covering the cold stone of the floor. It was hard to tell if it was something unsure or worried in his eyes as they looked gentle but with a furrow in his brows at the fragility you stood against the door in, as if struggling more then normal to find the words.

Calling your name, but when you didn’t respond he set Longclaw aside. Standing to make his way over to you and only on the second attempt did your eyes snap back to the present as your name sounding in your ears. He stood close, but not invading your privacy and yet that sorrow in your heart melted to something that left a bright love to bleed in your gaze. “Talk to me.”

As Jon’s hand reached up to run his fingers through the hair at the side of your face, you grabbed it instead. Pulling it, and by proxy him, closer to you as you held it more over your heart as the other free hand of yours traced over his jaw, facial hair scratching at the skin. His other came to rest at your waist, both quiet as he waited for what was behind your eyes to make their presence spoken.

When you found that, it wasn’t what he expected. “I used to think it was my fault my mother lost my brothers.” His eyes narrowed at you but you had not the strained hurt in your voice, but something more gentle and easy. “She stopped speaking to me after the first, and then the night after she lost her second my father told me I was being sent North. I thought it was a punishment.” Your hand begun to trace back and run through his curls as he watched you closely. Your own eyes not meeting his as they trailed innocently over what you could see of him from such an angle. “Used to think boys were meant to come first, and by me being the firstborn I had screwed it all up, and my mother kept losing them beacuse of me.”

The hand holding his over your heart slowly slid downwards, his eyes following intently until he led your hands and reached where the scar sat under your clothes. Letting his palm almost slide across the whole thing and his eyes never looked away from it as if he wanted to see it through the material. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Nodding, you moved both of your hands to rest along his chest close to his collarbones. “I thought I was cursed. Eventually, I stopped thinking about it. It had been so long I forgot what it ever was like to be afraid I was the reason she couldn’t have them.” Your voice lowered however, and you felt him tense drastically in your touch. “At least, I forgot until I lost my own. And then I felt like a failure. I didn’t even have one before he too was gone.”

Jon tried to move, wanting to pull you closer but your hands on his chest pushed back a little to keep him at bay. His voice low and rough trying to contain something in him. “Robb would never blame you for that. Never.”

You echoed those words, not realizing as he had said them about himself that you understood exactly what that felt like. “I thought I failed Robb, and I was terrified he would hate me for failing his son too.” Jon never moved his hand from your scar, his shoulders holding a visible weight on top of them as he stood close to you. “But I realized something tonight. That if I keep holding onto that thought, all I am doing is pushing you away with it. I’m doing exactly what you had told me not to do when I married Robb. I’m letting my pain of losing them get in the way of what I should be having with you.”

His other hand not on your scar moved to run over the back of your hair as his grey eyes were bright and conflicted as he looked into your willing ones. “I’m not asking you to choose me over Robb, I’d never ask you that. I know you two loved each other and I’ve never wanted to get in the way of that-”

It didn’t matter how quiet your voice was, it to Jon sounded as if it were a yell from above. “He said I was fine.” His eyes shot up to yours sharply. “Wolkan. He said I was fine. That..he doesn’t think I should have any reason to suspect I can’t..or that we wouldn’t be able to..”

His touch was still and his eyes were wide in almost shock. Lips parted slightly as he looked you over gently before meeting your eyes again. “He said that you can..” His hand on your scar increased the pressure and he almost could lose it at how you seemed so gentle looking up at him.

You leaned back against the door more, a relax in your posture. “I thought that if I failed to give the last King in the North an heir, I didn’t deserve to fail with the second. Thought you should’ve just moved on, made me leave and find yourself a better wife that could give you all that and more. That letting you be with me was a mistake, and you’d end up hating me for wasting your time.”

Something deep in Jon’s eyes hurt, something painful cut at him hearing such a statement that there was a redness tinting behind the grey that threatened to pool out were he to let it. In an instant he moved to cup your cheeks, resting his forehead against yours as he crowded you against the door, your hands coming to his waist. “I don’t care about if you can give me a heir, I care about you. I care about how much it would hurt you not to be able to have children, and if I was pushing you for something that was impossible..but..”

The ease in how lovingly you looked into his eyes made him choke up. And the tenderness in your voice made that all the worse. “I’m not trying to influence you one way or the other, I just..thought you ought know the option is there..should you decide you want that..”

You suspected there was a lot he wanted to say but little ability to speak them into the world. His voice still a whisper as he looked at you, but a playful small smile on his lips. “I did always think your name would sound better with Snow than Stark.” You both just laughed, for a moment before he tried inhaling shakily before speaking again. “We don’t have to plan anything right now, but,” One hand started to trace down your arm, as his eyes followed, “We could always practice.”

His eyes flickered up to you, and a weight held your voice and breathe down. Maybe keeping the tears at bay too, but you swallowed heavily. Hands on his waist tightening as you slowly nodded. Jon leaned in, hovering close to your lips before glancing up to your eyes, you nodded once more before nervously shutting them as he closed the gap himself.

Jon tried to be gentle, he truly did.

His kiss was soft at first, a gentle brushing of his lips to coax more from yours. Hands on the other were both light and firm enough just to keep the other in front of them, but it was the shaking in yours as they rose up the length of his chest that made him weak. His touch back up to cupping both of your cheeks as he gently let you find a slow, sweetness in the harmony, your hands continuing their journey up to dance along his neck and wrap around the back of it, almost too gently for him to handle.

Your touch when that soft and innocent, made his blood race.

He tried pulling away a few times, wanting to at least take the heavy layers off of you, but each time he was pulled right back to your lips on his own desire, kissing a little harder each instance and getting worse at pulling back every return. The hands on your cheeks tightened ever so slightly when Jon gently nibbled at your bottom lip and you tried to gasp. He would return to a soft kiss, bite your lip harder and then kiss it soothingly before biting and repeating.

Each bite you got closer to a whine at the pleasure from the stinging he gave you, and your nails unintentionally dug into the skin of his neck as you felt yourself getting lightheaded. One of his slipped behind your own neck, keeping a firm hold cupping the back of it as if to force you not to move as the other hand left your cheek as well. Blindly working away at the laces and straps keeping your light armour still attached to your upper body as if he needed no sight to know how to take it all off of you.

As soon as it was loose enough to pull off you, he let it toss down anywhere he could throw it, biting your lip harsh as he jumped to your bottom half. His tongue now soothing over the bite mark before slipping into your mouth. His invading kiss and calloused hand running along the skin by your hips undoing your pants almost impatiently had you arching a bit into the touch and a gentle whine he caught in your mouth with his greed.

Instead of shoving them down though, his rough hand slipped in between the fabric and your skin, and suddenly it was just as it was in the castle halls earlier that night. His fingertips dancing down to where you burned for him, and his own knee suddenly shoved your legs apart to once more rut in between you. The hand slid just inside only coming back up to grab what he could of your pants and roughly yanked you down onto his knee as much as he could manage, you much more freely moaning into his kiss.

The entire time, Jon refused to let your lips part from him. Refused to loosen his grip on the back of your neck and you felt more and more like it was a wolf really in front of you. A rough hold on the scruff of another wolves neck to keep them subjugated and you let him without a single thought on the matter. There were no thoughts of anything in you that wasn’t letting him do what he wanted.

Jon’s own head screamed at him over it. This was exactly the kind of thing that led to the way he took you that night in Castle Black. In your early days together, slowly exploring one another at the same pace it was never this bad. He never felt this barley in control. Yet as soon as his eyes opened once more in the body belonging to him, as soon as his mind settled and he understood the truth of what he had experienced, it started and never stopped.

Something dark and clawing in his chest begged him to keep you all for himself, and the way you melted to his touch so willingly and so naturally made that stronger. It partially scared him, having something so intense and addicted find it’s way about you. Worried that he was too much now, he would frighten you with his need for you in his life but you weren’t. You were the one in fact, scared of over staying your welcome.

That darkness was stronger then it had been in his entire previous life, and it was that same darkness that had him take you that night. Hoisted against the cold wall in his arms, Jon had slid his cock deep inside you for the first time and he knew there was no going back. Shoving you onto the ground and fucking you deep as soon as he already came once. Waking up with you bare in his arms and you had only even just tumbled out of sleep as Jon yanked you up onto his lap.

Barley opened your eyes before he roughly bounced you on his cock and him sitting up to mark your breasts up with this teeth because you gasped so beautifully in the air whenever he did. He filled you twice that morning without ever stopping how hard he fucked you onto his cock and he didn’t understand why he wanted more and more. Couldn’t understand why he suddenly was so desperate to fill you in a way that once terrified him when he was nothing more then just a bastard boy in love with a royal highborn girl.

But now? Jon was King in the North, the King his brother, his brothers people and his home all wanted and not a thing would stand in his way from keeping you with him. He was still honest about not wanting to pressure you into thinking you had to marry him, but he wanted it. Wanted you in a beautiful ivory dress, even more elaborate then the last. Pray with you in front of the Weirwood, drape his own fur over you in that beautiful ivory dress and kiss you before finding one last string of tradition in him, and hoisting you in his arms to the celebration to follow.

You could be each others and there would be nothing anyone could do to change that. Jon would never force it, or even press for it, but nothing would be in his way. And now? He thought too, nothing was standing in his way of getting you pregnant and suddenly his blood almost boiled him alive.

Hands finally having enough, you started to push up the soft material of Jon’s shirt until he got the message, pulling from you to let you take it off him, and letting it drop much more gently then he was treating your things. Looking down at you with wide eyes and lips parted as he breathed heavily, he stopped. Running his hand back down your cheek before just as gently taking everything from your top half off of you.

A shiver running over your chest as you were left with nothing covering you but Jon’s dark, greeding gaze. But he didn’t overwhelm, not now. Keeping a hand steady on your hip as you kept perched right over his knee, but his other explored your skin. Running flat along your jaw and neck thumb firm as it trailed down the middle of your neck to your collarbones before circling around to grasp at your breast.

His eyes were narrowed and his breathing heavy through his nose as he stared in silence, hand suddenly rough as he groped the plush skin he found. Thumb running over your nipple already perfect for him to grasp and twist. Grey eyes so dark they were near black as they flickered between his touch and your arching back and high pitched gasp you tried to keep low.

It only made Jon tug and twist at the small bud more roughly, and your gasp turned to a small cry before he finally moved to the other hand from your hip. Both hands rough and calloused and leaving bruises of his fingertips as sparks shot through your chest, pumping from your heart down between the legs trapped on either side of one of his. Jon leaning forward, pressing only gentle kisses down your neck. Nothing like his selfishly rough touch, only feather light presses of his lips making his way up to your ear before leaving another gentle one just below.

His lips only giving a peck before his hands came to slid everything left on you, off. Keeping everything in a tender touch until he rose back up to your level, you now bare before him.

Three fingers danced between your legs and grazed the growing wetness before trailing up to your clit with a touch that never really got committed. “Will you lay out for me? Let me taste you?” You bit your lip, still the act somehow making you nervous. It wasn’t something you even knew about until he was already doing it, and still it made you self conscious, but the need was deep in his eyes. “You’re safe with me, remember?”

That made you nod, and you let him gently move you to the soft carpet close to the fire. Still something nerve wracking in you, realizing you had no idea how to make yourself look alluring like this. Gently kneeling down on your calves with your hands in weak fists sat in your lap as if anything else would look like you were trying too hard. Jon however, just exhaled deeply as he looked back at you.

Grabbing your hands with both of his larger ones before leaning close, placing them along his shoulders around the back of his neck until you continued the path yourself, fingertips running what you could reach of his curls. Moving next to guide you to lay out for him, your knees somewhat bent with feet flat on the soft carpet as Jon settled partially above you.

Instead of moving you more, Jon leaned down and kissed you again. A soft brush of lips that this time never picked up, one of his hands running along your hair splayed out under you as he pulled away, after giving one final small kiss. Nothing else was spoken in the air as he moved down your neck, kissing a path just as soft and just as gentle the whole way.

Your hands slipping to his shoulders the lower he kissed, your chest already with a slight heave as your breathing picked up, but he never let up. Never let his lips press anywhere but gently along your skin. A muttering against you when he had to reach up, and direct a hand into his hair, mumbling into his path, “Keep that there.” You nodded even though he couldn’t see it.

The lower he got the more your nerves and heart raced, unsure as to why it made you so nervous but it also was something you simply never knew existed before him. Much of what you had always discovered with Jon made you nervous. He paused as he got to your scar, and just as you had his, kissed a path all the way down it and further.

Shifting to lay between your legs, Jon confidently draped your thighs over his shoulders, once more grasping your hips as he kissed along your upper thighs. Moving your hips slightly up closer to him, you felt the gentle brush of his tongue along your clit, enough to have you gasp. Would have jumped too were his hold not keeping you so strongly tethered right where he wanted.

Small, gentle licks along your clit that had your core awaken suddenly. Just a tender touch, working you up at the sensitive spot with only his tongue until he felt your thighs around him begin to shake, only then did Jon finally run his tongue flat over it much more soaking. Sucking your clit before just barely grazing his teeth over it as you tried again to jump at the spark of pleasure but he kept you in place.

Jon refused to let his mouth trail his mouth anywhere else, licking and sucking your clit with hands holding your hips tight until you felt that build up inside of you. Almost bracing yourself, knowing he was going to take it away again, you tried holding it off. Tried keeping it at bay as your free hand curled into a fist and biting your lip, but the pressure inside refused to stop.

But just as you felt the weakness, just as you felt inside tightening, Jon instead moved to grab at your upper thighs, and pushed them far. The instant you were sure he was going to pull away though, Jon moved to lick right down your folds with a deep hunger. A loud cry left your mouth as the second that feeling snapped, Jon used that hold to yank you into his mouth more. Tongue tasting every bit of wetness you were gracing him with before trailing back to your clit and down again.

Legs shaking and your breathing airy as your orgasm ripped through you but he didn’t pull back, only held you close. His tongue making his way deep inside of you, and your cries were loud and free by then. Unable to stop, as your hand curled into his hair with a beg of his name which meant no other words.

Jon grunted into your cunt, licking and tasting you with greed at the feeling and sounds you made above him. Hands pushing your thighs wide and off his shoulders, and instead as he run his tongue against something sharp and sensitive inside of you, his hands slid down your thighs to pull you again closer. Not realizing you had arched away from him the more your head fogged with pleasure rolling around your veins. Hands almost grasping now tightly at your ass, fingertips leaving deep bruises already as his mouth drank from you with his own need.

His own sounds vibrating through you and up leaving as cries from your mouth. Soaking his tongue and yet Jon didn’t back away for a second, his own need refusing to let go of you as suddenly that wave of pleasure shocked. Back arching for him, as your hand tightened in his hair. The sensation causing Jon to growl into you and his hands on your ass holding tighter as your orgasm rippled through you, babbling need saying words you heard not in the snapping pleasure burning your insides.

Perhaps it was so close to your second that it made it simple, but Jon so quickly drew a third. Not letting himself simmer down to a gentle coaxing as he started, instead keeping the desperation in how deep he tasted inside of you and how much he drank everything you soaked him with. You almost rolled right into a third as you begged this time, “Please- I can’t, don’t..” Nothing was close to a sentence and Jon didn't stop until he could will himself to leave by force.

Your eyes stung as it almost was too much between you did Jon kiss a path to your clit, and instead of marking his way back up, he all but leaped to your eye level. Pulling you in by the back of your hair as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. Making you taste what he was addicted too as his covered cock rutted into your soaking bare cunt. His hands held your waist as he rolled more into you with intention, breathing growing heavy and the second he pulled away from your lips a snarl almost formed on his face before he bit your lips into another rough, deep kiss.

Your hands attempted to reach down, but a soon as you got to his pants, Jon leaned up again. Saliva still pulled from both your panting, swollen mouths and now yours was as shined with wetness as he was giving you the mess you let him drink from. Eyes black as he watched you, taking over for your hands and pulling the last of his own clothes off. Trailing down to look at you, yours shyly looked down to him.

Hard and thick, slightly red with need and his own seed already leaking as he looked at you. Pulling your legs wide as he moved back to you. His cock brushing against your soaked folds had him shudder and you whine, hands at his shoulders. Eyes still on you, his voice was strained, accent strong as he rasped down at you, “No matter what happens,” One hand drifting to your scar as your eyes stung, “We’re family now, we’re together.”

You swallowed, nodding yes before Jon kissed you gently. But the kiss was a distraction.

The pressure as his cock slid inside of you, your nails dug deep into his shoulders and Jon kissed you harsher. One slow, gentle glide inside of you and he slid as deep as your cunt could let him go. Stretched thick around him you burned and cried, tears coming from your closed eyes. Hands running through his hair, Jon kept your lips on his too.

He was slow about it, savouring every inch of you around him so warm and tight, your own walls being pressed against as you wanted to cry at the pleasure it stabbed you with each inch. His cock slid in and out smoothly, you utterly soaking around him as Jon would pull out almost just to the tip before just as slowly, sliding right back. Making you feel every moment of his cock filling every inch of you, his tongue brushing into your mouth as he did so, and the gentleness matched.

Your lungs were no more as he fucked you slow. Every gasp you tried to have, Jon would steal it with his kiss and refuse you any air that he didn’t give you. He wanted everything you were to be at his mercy, trust him to keep you right where you were and you did. Legs falling wide around his hips, the coil inside of you twisted and cracked as you held his kiss even closer with your hands raked deep in his curls.

His hands on your hips kept you in place, making every thrust of his cock had you shake, but the pace so you were to feel every second as you clenched so tightly around him. By the time he drew another orgasm out of you, you had tears genuinely at how overwhelmed you felt with his slow pace inside of you.

But then he pulled from your lips, looking down to watch his length disappear into your soaking cunt, Jon didn’t notice his hands on your hips grew tight the longer he watched his cock slide in and out of you. Teeth gritting, he started only to realize how much you were scratching at his insides when you cried his name out. “Jon- fuck, please, gods, please, you feel so good,”

Then, Jon picked up. Not the speed, still mostly just as slow but his hips suddenly skipping past a gentle increase and moving right to a hard, rough thrust inside of you. Looking up to your closed eyes as your back arched, hands now splayed in the carpet around your sweating hair. Jon fucked you rougher, stuck hovering over watching you. Each slam of his hips making the sounds between you slap, a rough smacking of skin that had him growling and holding your hips in place. As if he needed to control just how rough he fucked you at all times.

He had once dreamed of being kind and gentle with you in such a manner, but now he could see your overwhelmed pleasure, watching how well your soaking cunt let him pound deep inside like he was destined to fit with you, and the obscene sounds of his skin against yours and how wet you were every thrust. Part of him still wanted to be gentle, but something else that had only awakened when he came back, made him feel like he was a wolf destined to take his mate.

“I hate every second I’m not with you.” His accent so strong you could barley hear its low rasp through the rough slap of each time he pounded inside you. A hand coming to press right beside your head as he looked down at you, almost speaking in tandem with every pound of his cock. “Hate every second I’m not inside you, not filling you fuck after fuck. That’s all I can think about, should lock you in our bedroom in Winterfell, keep you tied to my bed and never leave. Do nothing the rest of our lives but fill you deep with my seed,”

His head dropped as he hissed, trying to control himself but the roughness was going to leave you good and sore and it made you beg for more in yielding. “I- anything, fuck Jon I’ll do whatever you want, you’re so good..” Pulling you up by the back of your head to meet his lips in a rough kiss, Jon thrusted only a few more rough times into your cunt before he shook above you with a groan into your lips.

Cum unusually warm as he spilled inside of you, and thick as he spread your legs as wide as they could go on the ground beside you as he kept going. It was a lot of thick, very warm cum and he bit your lips with every heaving breathe or snarl inside him at the feeling of you so deeply taking him, and keeping all he spilled inside of you.

He wasn’t done, almost as if it made him harder. Grinding deep inside you did you cum before he was even done though, coating his cock in your wetness and forced to take his cum deep as you cried his name. But Jon, only got rougher. Fucking into you with pounding slaps that would have echoed through the castle halls by that point, any passing close by would be able to hear the slap of skin from the ground, or even the sea.

Burying your face in his neck as your hands wrapped around and into his curls, Jon almost pulled you closer, pressing your bodies as close as he could as he pounded into you. You didn’t know if keeping each one slow was meant as torture or not. Because you couldn’t tell if you needed him to go faster, or you might cry and beg for him to slow down if he changed his pace at all. Your voice was breathless and muffled in his neck, “I love you, fuck, Jon I love you so much,”

As possessed as Jon felt, the almost tearful genuity in your voice made him bury his face in your hair, hands tight holding you to him.

“You, gods- fuck, you deserve better, better then this, better then me.” Jon tried to protest, begging you not to say that but you clenched tightly around him and made him groan just as loudly into you as he fucked you. “Tell me what to do, please, fuck tell me what to do for you. I want to give you anything-everything, tell me what to give you to let me stay.”

If he wanted to cry before, Jon certainly did now. His cock screaming to cum deep in you again, and the sound of his hips slapping against yours were music if he’d ever heard it but you had begged him. Hand running along the back of your hair, Jon mumbled into your ear, voice wavered and shuddering with his own breathless desire. “Marry me, let me take you home and marry me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted,”

He knew he felt tears hiding in his neck, but he also felt you orgasm around his cock and he yanked your watering eyes to kiss you. Keeping you pressed to his lips, only pulling back to brush against them as you were jostled hard under him, asking as if he hadn't already. “Can I fill you? Will you let me spill inside you?” Nodding yes, he kissed you with a biting sloppiness to it before pulling back as his muscles strained the closer he got and the more your orgasm shocked around him like a sparking fire. He was barley comprehensible, so close to his own orgasm he slurred against your lips. “Fuck, fill you with my seed, fill you with a son. Give you my son..”

His hips left their rough, slower pace, as Jon lost all control. Fucking fast into you, the slapping pounds turned to obscene speed and smacking as he roughly kissed you, your hands tight in his hair. Jon sped towards filling you once more, and you managed to pull away enough, voice high pitched and crying in loving need, “Anything, Jon, anything you want, I promise.”

That time, your final, sudden and flooding orgasm snapped in your veins with an almost painful wave of pleasure, as Jon shook against you, and thrusted deep inside you, and you felt his thick cum spill inside of you. Cum almost as warm as the fire burning hot next to you, sweat covering both of you.

Jon cupped the sides of your face, and you did his. Both knew there was something not normal about how blindly desperate you both felt for the other when he was inside you, but neither were sure anymore if either of you wanted it any other way.

You hadn’t been in this room in a very long time, many years. The painted table was a long wooden table that was constructed to map out all the known lands of Westeros from Dorne to the Wall, and raised and lowered depending on the structure of the lands, all painted in accordance to how such an area around it looked.

Just by walking in you could tell what the pieces came from, your father’s own collection as opposed to whatever Aegon and Connington brought. Planned out acts still set partially to what you now knew were your fathers own organizing.

While it had been years since you had stepped foot in the room, it wasn’t unusual when you were on Dragonstone to appear in here. In only a few hours the sun would begin to rise from across the Narrow Sea, and yet you found your mind too worked up to sleep any longer.

You had woken up with a panic, a gasp for air as you came close to jostling Jon from his peaceful sleep, from the force it awoke you with. The dreams had gotten out of control. Dreams of fire, and wolves and roars that you couldn’t identify had finally bled into something that you didn’t understand but found to be compelled to.

This time, the green fire exploding from the torches in the Winterfell crypts were not followed by a burning flame roaring across the ceiling. Instead this time the direwolf which jumped from the statue of Ned Stark had ran behind you, and when you turned around you were standing deep within the sandy lands of Dorne. Sun blazing above and a tower standing tall in the distance with the red mountains looming in the background of it.

A direwolf stood with many at his back. A small lizard short to the ground, what looked like ten small wolves at their backs, a black horse with a bright red main and scattered across the lands like rubble were two crossed long axe’s with dark black handles, a silver gauntlet curled to a fist, and three buckets scattered and all but the wolf and lizard were coated in blood.

Standing across from them was a cluster of nine black bats all flying to hide the sight of a white tower crowned with grey smoke and burning flames as a lilac falling star crossed it, the tail almost in the shape of a white sword but just as the star fell across the morning so did everything but the Dornish tower behind it all, and a bloody direwolf and lizard.

The tower however, begun to bleed as well. The wolf on the bed in the crypt had melted into the sheets and painted it with the red and blues of it’s fur and the tower begun to bleed such colours as well and suddenly as you looked around to any, the animals were gone.

The closer you stepped to the tower, the more you heard a high pitch of crying. Something that was not an animal but also sounded too young to even be an adult, it sounded that of a baby until the crying morphed into the tiny growls of a young sounding wolf. Little growls and howls came from the tower as it continued to bleed.

You took only a step forward more, and the tower had enough of your watchful eyes. From the ground it was ripped from the sands, and in it’s place roared that which followed fire. From the place which the tower had stood, came out a great dragon in it’s place flying high in the air swirling the lands with it’s fire. It’s scales burned your eyes with a pure white colour as it’s own eyes and flames from it’s mouth shined that like blood. But the roar it gave out was not one you imagined of a dragon.

The white scaled dragon had flown to the top of the red mountains, perched high and what was supposed to be a roar, was a mighty growl of a wolf. A powerful growl that sounded like one’s you’ve heard on many direwolves now before.

And just in the seconds before you had been startled awake, a gentle, dainty hand grasped at your shoulder covered in blood. When you turned, the figure was nothing more then a mist as if covered in vines of blue roses wrapping around your limbs. Just as the cold, blue roses came to wrap around your throat, the dragon behind roared like a wolf’s growl and a gentle, desperate voice of a young woman came to you from above.

“Promise me, Ned.”

You had startled awake, at that point and now found yourself here. In the room your sleepless nights on the island commonly found their way too. Walking to the side of it, your eyes narrowed as you spotted something tossed on it’s side carelessly.

Reaching forward you grasped the wooden figurine and found it that of a dragon. Walking to the main seat you had many years watched your father sit at, you sat down gently. Leaning your forearms on the painted table, your hands held the wooden dragon with sharp eyes watching as you turned it in your hands.

The dream was that of many you had before it, and your mind swirled without your permission to put it together of what you were being shown. Only, it wasn’t just the dream it connected too. It was the words of an intensity seen, it was the sight of a ghost. Your mind raced and flew words and images around in your head all staring at that dragon figure.

When it connected, you didn’t know why. But it all screamed and cycled together into a blend coming into a painted image that was clear as day and suddenly your entire body felt as if it had fallen fifty feet in place. A shocking jolt in your mind and a twisting in your heart.

Your face morphed from that of a squinting thought, to a wide shock. Mouth slowly opening agape as your eyes widened in a sight only you were seeing in your clues. Many secrets scattered across the lands of Westeros, but your dreams had led you right to the heart of a secret none knew even existed.

None perhaps, but one. One who went to the grave without telling a soul and you felt something faint inside you, realizing, now the other person who knew this secret, just might be you, and it shocked your heart into a stunned quiet until the sun rose in the outside behind you. Your hands had dropped the wooden figurine.

The only dragon on the painted table, and you had dropped it right at the Prince’s Pass, as the wooden figurine fell, it cracked right down the middle.

Splitting the dragon into two even halves, in the sands of Dorne.

#jon snow x reader #robb stark x reader #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jon snow x you #robb stark x you #jon snow imagine #robb stark imagine #game of thrones imagine

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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 1 year

Text

A Possible Price x Journalist Reader Short Story

Word Count: 1k

"You ever been in love before, Captain?"

Price nearly chokes on his spit when he hears Gaz ask him that, lowering the cigar in his hand he'd just started smoking.

The two men stood outside a pub near the north side of Hereford, just about ready to call it an evening. Light snowfall dotted the pink sky like little white dandelions blowing away in the wind, as the docile crowds made their way about the snow-covered city.

Price scratched his head, somewhat perplexed, his black beanie hugging his hair as the cold air of his breath fogged around him. "In need of a bit of advice, Kyle?" he teases.

"Nah, nothin' like that, sir," Gaz shrugs casually. He slips his hands back into his pockets, looking off towards the street. "I just never hear you talk about anyone. Been startin' to think you might be some kind of grumpy, old hermit, Captain."

Price chuckles, taking another drag from his cigar. "A hermit?" he says. "Well, can't say I haven't heard that one before. As far as my love life goes..."

Price thinks back for a second, letting his gruff voice start to trail off into a distant thought, as some even further memories start to resurface. Some he hasn't thought about in quite some time now.

He blows the smoke out from his lips leisurely, shuffling in his stance a bit as he spoke. "I haven't had the pleasure," he states.

"Really?" Gaz sounds genuinely shocked by this. "Never?"

"You sound shocked," Price grins.

"I am," Gaz admits. "We talking 40-year-old virgin?"

"Now you're just havin' a go at me, Sergeant," Price laughs. He wouldn't comment on the fact that Gaz had been a few years off on the Captain's age. No doubt he looked the part of the old man, all the same. "I've been in my fair share of rodeos, believe me."

"But nothing serious?"

"Jesus kid, am I bein' interviewed?" Price laughs to himself.

"These are important questions, Captain," Gaz says sarcastically. "Between brothers-in-arms."

Now Price knew the Sergeant was just twisting his arm a bit, how he imagined a son probably would act at his age. At times, Price had to remind himself that Gaz was not his son; it felt easy to forget lately. Both men were also a bit tipsy, so he'd give Gaz a break on the intrusiveness of his questions.

Truthfully, the Captain didn't care about sharing with Gaz more details about his personal life. Price never was much for secrets, he just wasn't someone who'd go around sharing personal details uninvited, either.

If you want to know him, just ask, he's always thought.

Price finishes his cigar, flicking it off to the side before slipping his hands back into his pockets, sighing to himself as he thought back to the one person he could say meant a damn to him at some point. Jesus was that a long time ago though, he's realized.

"There was someone, once," he admits. "An American woman. Friend of Laswell's."

Gaz gasps. "Was she a spy?"

Price blows raspberries, squinting his eyes with joking disapproval. "She wishes," he says. "She was a journalist. Freelance. Never really good at it, but it always did make her happy. Though it was hard to tell at times..."

"Is she 'the one that got away' then, sir?"

Price chuckles to himself at the Sergeant's comment, though he doesn't follow it up with a reply. His silence speaks volumes enough.

"Say it ain't so, Captain," Gaz teases. "You ever try lookin' her up again?"

Price shakes his head immediately, wanting to laugh just at the thought. He couldn't even imagine how that interaction would go. "She wouldn't want to see me," he says. "I'm sure she'd sooner drown herself at sea."

Gaz shakes his head in defeat for his Captain. The Sergeant has certainly had his fair share of burnt bridges with past lovers. He can only imagine how many bridges his Captain's had to burn.

"You never know, though," Gaz shrugs. "Time changes people."

A car pulls up to the side of the road, stopping right in front of the men. The driver didn't even need to roll the window down before they both knew who was inside -- Gaz's younger sister Maya.

She waves to both men, long black curls bouncing playfully and her eyes especially ogling her brother's attractive, older boss. She did that a lot. Seeing as she was half his age and related to his colleague, however, Price couldn't be any less interested.

"Hi, John!" she waves to him, completely ignoring as Gaz made his way over to the passenger's side of the car. "You do something different with your mustache?"

"Just a new shampoo I've been trying out," Price unconsciously begins to stroke the facial hair on his chin.

"It looks good!"

Gaz gags to himself, remaining in the door of the passenger's side. "Maya, please," he warns her. He then turns back to his Captain. "Need a lift, sir?"

"I was lookin' forward to takin' a walk actually," Price declines. "You both have a good night."

Price watches Gaz drive off, waiting for him to round the corner before finally letting out a small sigh.

Lately, Price has suspected that the Sergeant felt bad for him, pitying him if the word wasn't so harsh. Gaz has known his Captain for years, including all the nothingness he had to return home to every time the team had leave. Gaz couldn't quite wrap his head around someone being content with coming home to just an empty house and his own devices, but it's been a suitable life for Price thus far.

If it ain't broke, why fix it?

Apart from his dog and neighbor, the Task Force had been his family, as had the SAS. When life took him away from that, he always had himself and his career. What more was there to need?

Price lingered outside the pub for a moment longer, however, pondering over Gaz's words. Thinking back to a time when he once felt ready to drop everything for a relationship as wracked with highs and lows as yours had been.

Time changes people...

Price always thought he knew that better than anyone.

Chapter One Here!

Idk what this is. A bit self-indulgent, the first thing I typed for Price, believe it or not. It's been sitting in my drafts since mid-April. At the time it had come down between this and Bloodstained Honesty. But this plot kind of haunts me, ngl.

An Angst turned Fluff Romance Story. That's the rough idea I had in mind anyway. Heavily inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Though this is just a brain fart of that basically. Thoughts?

#john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #price x reader #john price #captain john price #call of duty #modern warfare ii #mwii #call of duty modern warfare ii #mw2022 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty modern warfare #modern warefare 2 #modern warfare #mw2 #Spotify

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angelshimaa · 2 years

Text

━━ 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

♡ cw :: fluff, gn!reader, just a gentle bakugou so softly in love :( not proofread 😔

♡ pet names :: none !

♡ a/n :: a repost for the dearest @softiefeli ! you honestly love this so much it boggles my mind— sendin you all the love in the world pretty bby <33

his hand finds its way to the small of your back, resting there as his thumb caresses the skin over your clothes. it’s a touch that grounds you down to earth, despite your mind drifting into a feel— into a place that seems almost too tender to exist here.

silence lingers in the sweet air, more than welcome to stay and find a home.

as long as it stays like this.

katsuki prays it’s not too hard to do; it must be easy if you’d managed to enter without him knowing.

with steps as gentle, slow and steady as the ones you took with him, that’s how you must’ve entered. sneaking past the entrance of his heavily guarded heart with nothing but smiles and laughs, ones he’s deemed as yours and yours alone; that’s how well you’d worked.

katsuki hadn’t realised until it was too late, until you’d made his heart your home. until you’d added pieces of you there, taking solace in a place he wasn’t sure anyone wanted to be held in.

the touch his thumb gives your back grounds him too; lightly pulling him up from his sea of thoughts. yearning fills his nose as he breathes deeply, even though he has what— who— he yearns for right in his arms.

and oh, how he yearns for you.

the you that glows like a golden dream in the warm tones of the room. the you that gazes at him, showing him the softness you carry in those beautiful irises shining with the light of the setting sun. the you that holds his calloused hand with softness he never thought he would be treated with. the you matching his steps with your own in a slow dance that does enough speaking for the both of you.

as you smile at the slow passage of time, at the steady melody that you both sway to— at him, katsuki realises he can’t do much but hope.

he hopes the almost overwhelming peace chooses to settle down in his home— your home. that it chooses to stay, as warm and intimate as it is now. that it enters the same place you did and finds whatever comfort that kept you there.

maybe the peace will latch onto that comfort. the comfort he never knew he’d grow to want, that same comfort that lights a gentle fire in his bones.

yes. maybe that peace, that reassurance will come together with that comfort with you written over it, and find a place to fit.

the corners of his lips turn up as his lips pull back, revealing a smile you try to capture and hold in your mind. katsuki knows he can’t do anything but hope, yet in spite of himself and that fact, he smiles as he makes a silent promise.

katsuki promises to himself, to you, that you and all that make his home a home won’t ever have to leave. the flame you kept going in him was one he’d try to keep alight along with you.

and he prays, as long as you’re willing, that you’ll invite him in your own home to remain for at least a little while longer.

— thank you so very much for reading ! <3 please reblog / comment / give feedback for a heart 💗

#— signed ⋆·ʚ⁺#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x gn!reader #bakugou katsuki x gn!reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki fluff #katsuki fluff #katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha x gn!reader #bnha x gn!reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #— k. bakugou ⋆·ʚ⁺

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demonichikikomori · 8 months

Text

Detention

Floyd Leech x GN!Reader Word Count: 1.2k+ Tags: Stick n' Poke/Fluff(?)/Enemies -> Lovers (Kinda)

Art by cloa132 on Twitter!

Another fic for 13 Lovely Hauntings is here! I like the idea of being stuck in detention with Floyd hehe. Think of how horrible he would be... Stuck in a room with him a little too long... Get your mind out of the gutter. Oh, but, please don't do stick n' poke tattoos! They're actually very unsafe! If you want a tattoo, go to a shop!

SUMMARY:

You and Floyd are stuck in detention together. You learn how creative the eel can be when he's bored enough and someone teaches him something cool.

This could be what you considered: the shittiest outcome possible.

You were left alone in an empty classroom with Floyd Leech, your cheek throbbing as you held a goofy ice pack against it, and your blank homework in front of you with the teachers desk ahead of you devoid of life. The whole reason you were even here was because of Floyd. He always needed an excuse to push your buttons. To poke and prod at you until you either gave in or snapped back in retaliation. Today? You chose the latter.

It was another boring day in Professor Trein’s class with you nearly falling asleep as he droned on about the history of magic. Before you could peacefully drift away behind a taller student in front of you, there was a spine chilling giggle beside you. Floyd poked you in the temple once, twice, three times while demanding you wake up and suffer through class with him. You immediately threatened to punch him in the face if he did it again. It was his own fault for not taking your warning seriously.

The two of you ended up brawling among the sea of desks the moment your knuckles connected with the left side of his face as Floyd drove his finger into the side of your head. Hair was pulled, punches exchanged, you were sure at one point Floyd had indeed bit you somewhere; and here you are. Sitting only a desk away from him in discomforting silence as you tried to distract yourself with something productive.

The two of you refused to speak to one another until you were finally free from the after school punishment. Only three hours left. You lowered the ice pack as the chill began to sting your bruise and tapped your pencil against the paper as you began to work. “You’re too noisy. Shut up so I can focus.” Floyd growled as you glared at him with a scowl. “You can’t be deadass right now.” You refused to take any rude comments from him considering it's his fault the two of you were here. You wanted to say something else, but the sight on Floyd’s desk distracted you.

A broken pencil, a bottle of original flavored ramune, papers scattered across the surface with scratchy pen drawings in colored ink, an opened water bottle with the plastic cap lying face up, a small pile of cream colored thread, a blue lighter, and a needle. Floyd’s little science project was much more intriguing than your homework and you swiveled in your seat to face him. The eel did annoy you, but you couldn’t deny that he was creative when he wanted to be. He had created some sort of wet paste out of dark gray pencil lead, smearing the black mush into the divet of the plastic water bottle lid. He had taken the loose thread and the needle to create some sort of… Weapon? A drawing tool? You hadn’t realized you were staring until Floyd turned to you with a snicker.

“Kinda cool riiiight? Devilfish taught me. That's why you needed to be quiet. I needed to focus.” He sang softly with a wide toothy smile. As you studied his face, you could see a purpling bruise forming over his left eye. Your eyes quickly darted down to the one man science fair out of guilt. Devilfish… That would be Lilia. “He taught you to… Do what exactly?” You couldn’t tell what exactly Floyd was making. “Huh? I thought it was a human thing. Devilfish said humans do it all the time.” Floyd was displeased with your lack of knowledge as he dabbed the needle wrapped in thread into the wet mixture of graphite, water, and whatever else Floyd tossed in. “Izah’ stick n’ poke.” A snicker followed as he held a hand out to you with his toothy grin growing. “Lemme give you one.” He offered and you quickly scooted away in your seat with a frown. “No! What?! I’m not letting you give me a tattoo!” You scoffed at the idea of letting someone you couldn’t stand give you something permanent on your skin.

Floyd rolled his eyes and turned away before placing his hand on the table, and he began to draw on his hand with the makeshift tattoo tool. “Whatever.” He hummed as he continued in silence, uninterested in arguing with you further. Usually he would pursue things like this. His lack of energy left you with an uncomfortable pit in your chest. It’s not like you wanted him to argue or mess with you. But when he didn’t, it felt strange. Maybe you were just conditioned to be used to him provoking you. Yeah, that’s got to be it. “Just give me one next.” You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked back down at your paper. You could hear him giggling softly as he continued to etch the graphite paste into his skin. “Kayyyyyy!~”

The process didn’t take long as he lifted his hand to admire his work with sparkling eyes. “All done, your turn Shrimpy.” He cheered and held out the freshly tattooed hand to you palm up. You couldn’t see the design he did, or if he did a good job or not. “Don’t fuck it up.” You sighed away your anxiety as you gave him your least dominant hand to work on. “And don’t make it too big.” You pleaded as you nervously shifted in your seat. You were starting to regret your decision, but the moment the needle pressed into your skin, you knew there was no chance to back out now.

You flinched and tensed up from a prick of pain. But you were hypnotized by the sight of him working. Watching him poke and scratch at your skin with the makeshift tool was oddly mesmerizing. The longer he remained focused on etching the design into the side of your hand, the more his features softened. In the blink of an eye and a gentle tilt of his head, you feared that you may have been in the presence of Jade Leech instead. The much calmer between the two was the one giving you a stick and poke tattoo, not Floyd.

Your heart began to pick up speed as you found yourself no longer watching his hands, but his face as he focused and worked. When he wasn’t messing with you… You could understand the attraction other students expressed. His personality was extremely hard to deal with. But when Floyd was still? You felt like you understood. “What’re you starin’ at?” He asked as his eyes suddenly met yours and you had tensed up even more. “Your stupid eyes. They don’t match.” You couldn’t help but to say something rude. Floyd was quiet, and smirked at your response before his eyes returned to the tattoo. “I’m done.” He hummed as the hand holding the needle retracted, but the one he was holding remained.

A cartoon shrimp was scrawled into your skin, it was a fitting choice from Floyd who had gifted you the nickname. “You gotta let it dry, so don’t wash your hands for a while.” He instructed as he admired his work with eyes half lidded. It was as if the sight of his handiwork was truly breathtaking. In your opinion, it wasn’t too bad either. “What did you give yourself?” You asked as he finally let go to slip his hand beside yours. As your skin met, a drawing of a moray eel, and a drawing of a small shrimp, pressed their round little mouths together.

You almost wanted to punch him. But you chose to yank your hand away with embarrassment as his laugh filled the empty classroom.

Tagged Accounts: @candlewitch-cryptic

#13 Lovely Hauntings #floyd leech #floyd leech x mc #floyd x reader #floyd twst #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x yuu

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hetaherr · 8 months

Text

the moon as our witness

: wanderer/ scaramouche x reader

: i dont know how to tag this, maybe fluff? crack?? angst

hey this is my writing practice because i struggle with the flow of my writing, especially like pacing and stuff so it's pretty bad imo TT but it's practice so its allg ig. this is very experimental , and i feel a little outta my element because i lowkey am hella informal with the way i write and IM JUST REALLY NOT USED TO IT???? anyway thanks for reading and if u have any advice please drop them! ok anyway reblog to win ur 5050s love u

watching the scene lay out in front of you was the very embodiment of your doomsday, it was the nearest thing to an apocalypse you'd ever seen- to your world of course. it felt like you were spiraling, you felt so asphyxiated as you watched him press himself against that- that bitch as if you didn't even exist. and almost as if the world was solely out to get you tonight, cigarettes after sex just had to start playing. like seriously, was catching your boyfriend cheat on you not gutting enough as it is, you did not need a song to tell you when to 'cry'.

pushing through the sea of people transitioning from jumping up and down to swaying with their partners was absolutely suffocating. in any other circumstance, the crowd would've been just right- like the calm ocean after a storm. but at this very moment, it felt like you were drowning, being dragged into the abysmal nothing that was the deep blue sea.

with a slam of the door, you found yourself rescued by the crisp night air. barely making it a few steps, you crumble by the side of the road. it feels like tonight the tears stung even worse than usual, you can't scream, you can't wail, your throat is all clawed up and drowning feels like it's becoming a lot more literal than metaphorical at this moment.

through your tears, the faint echo of music can be heard, and a soft clink sounds beside you.

"i think you need this more than me." he says, you cant see him clearly through the tears that still continue to pour. you look down and there's a glass bottle of whatever everyone's been drinking tonight.

"i don't drink."

"you look like you should." he comments, you can only scoff at the remark. he takes a seat beside you, a bottle in hand. he hesitates a second, but you don't tell him to bug off. there's a soft silence that comes with his presence, neither of you talk- unless you consider crying to be talking. it feels so pathetic, you can't understand what you could've done to be tossed aside so easily. but the more you think about it, the harder it becomes to contain your emotions.

"ah fuck this." you mumble, reaching out to take a swig of liquid courage. you hiss as it leaves a burning sensation down your throat, flushing your tears away leaving behind a bitter taste. the boy, shifts his gaze toward you- his head resting on his knees, hair framing his face so nicely and it feels a little unfair how fucking pretty he is.

"so much for not drinking." he says, his face is blank but there's a teasing notion to his words and just the way he was looking at you. you let him stare, violet eyes burning into your skin you feel like it's going to leave an imprint. you look back at him, under the warm glow of the street lamp. as you share the gaze, there's a feeling of guilt that has been set aflame within the pits of your heart, after all you still hadn't broken up with that jackass.

you unconsciously continue to stare at the boy, pondering. should you just break up with him through text? should you storm in and scream? should you even make a scene? maybe ghost him?

"a penny for your thoughts?" he speaks up, words so gentle it makes your heart flutter and it feels like the guilt burns worse than the alcohol.

"do you want to help me break up with my cheating boyfriend?" you think out loud. you watch his eyebrows furrow, and for a second you wonder if you made him uncomfortable. he blinks at you, and then slightly shrugs.

"sure."

within seconds, the chilly breeze outside is replaced with the smell of sweat, cigs and alcohol. it's disgusting. the boy takes your hand and lets you guide him through the horde of horny and drunk people that were either passed out or making out. you are reminded of why you didn't frequent these parties. the floor is sticky and you just hope whatever it is you just stepped on was not human fluids. and then you see him, sprawled across the couch with the same girl sitting way too close to be considered 'just friends'. with a smile so smug, that made you glad god gave you patience and not strength.

"that's him?" noticing your hesitance to move forward, the boy follows your gaze. the tears are already threatening to spill yet again, anymore and you fear the headache that follows. and yet your feet don't move, all the courage that that brown bottle clearly gave you wasn't strong enough. you barely hear his words, it feels like your body is moving on it's own as you nod. you hear the boy sigh, his hands gently grab your wrist and pulls you behind his frame. you're not able to react before he speaks up, this time his voice is a lot more harsh.

"yo asshole." he shouts, his hand still gripping onto yours, though it is a lot tighter than before. it startles people around you, and just like all humans and their natural desire to fulfil their curiosity, heads turn toward your direction. you can't even process the next few seconds, as he grabs the bottle out of your hand and pours whatever was remaining of the now warm booze down all over the cunt that sat before you.

"maybe think twice before cheating dickwad" he can't contain his laughter as he looks your now ex, up and down, eyes full of judgement. you look horrified, looking between the boy and your ex, noticing the rage building up as he spits a variety of cuss words. you can't suppress your own laughter, albeit the fact that it's slightly laced with fear- fear that your new friend would get punch right in the nose. so your feet decide it's time to get the fuck out of here, and you pull him out the door running so fast your gym teacher wouldn't have believed it was you.

there's another wave of silence as the both of you were bent over trying to catch your breath, everything that happened tonight was unpredictable and didn't feel real. you took a peek at the boy, he seemed to have the same thought as you catch his gaze. the silence is finally broken as you start laughing, like a maniac you couldn't stop your giggles. you are glad that there is no one else around to see your fit of laughter. there is still that redness and puffiness of your eyes from earlier, its odd given how drastic the contrast is to your current state, its so big that even the black hole would have a difficult time sucking it in.

"after all this, i still don't know your name." you huff. his violet eyes are morphed into that of a crescent. and with the moon as your witness, he smiles.

"you can call me, scara."

#genshin impact #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader

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cafeinthemoon · 1 year

Text

King - Chapter IV

Chapter 4

Wordcount 3,8k

Title Your Voice

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warnings: mentions of nudity; mentions of pain/aching and physical discomfort; slightly angsty and tense tbh

Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: I still didn't talk about it, but the notes in Italic that preceded Chapter I and the current Chapter are actually lessons from reader's mother, most of them taught during reader's childhood. They are based on her mother's personal experience as a woman and her views on marriage and parenthood, which will be explored in the future, since they're deeply connected to the reasons why reader became Poseidon's wife. Reader's mission in the Kingdom of the Seas is obviously more than survive: as she learns about life and the rules of her new house, she will find opportunities to proof her mother's views right or wrong, as well as to discover secrets about her mother's past that might affect her future.

Also back with this gif bc I love it sm 🥰

They know they cannot tame us completely, so they invent ways to keep us locked. The first thing they do is to turn you into a wife. The second is turn you into a mother. The less time you have to think and to learn, the less power you have over yourself, and so is the will to speak for yourself. When you reach this point, it is over for you. When a woman wants to escape this, she often submits to craziness, sorcery or crimes, but none of these will grant her happiness, or so my experience says. On the other hand, being tamed and silenced will not make you happy either.

Do you remember what we, merchants, always say? Our voice, when well used, can be more precious than the gold we trade. Understand this, child: a woman’s voice is her freedom, and her freedom is gold. To protect your freedom, you must to learn how and when to use your voice.

I’m drowning. I’m in the depths of the ocean, and I can’t get out.

As the King of the Seas was making you his, this was the only thing you could think of.

The indigo curtains, seen from the canopy’s interior, were turned black to your blurry sight, and the size of the mattress made it impossible for you to reach their edges; the sheets, slipping under your body like silk, were cold when you first touched them, but now the heat of the activities over them went through the fabric, and you felt them clinging to your sweaty skin at each movement.

He was now using his legs to keep yours in place, and as one of his hands held your left arm, the other kept a firm grip on your waist, maintaining the closeness while he used his lips on your mouth, your chin and neck. You could hardly move on your own, but it wasn’t like you needed it: Poseidon considered that most of the work was supposed to be done by himself, and in the name of his pride he would insist on it even when you were willing to do your part. Not that he was brute or was unsure of what to do, of course – he knew exactly how to be good to his woman, quickly discovering where to touch and where to caress, taking the best out of you – but he was a god, and god’s ego was unparalleled.

I’m drowning, and he won’t let me reach the surface.

However, as much as his experience and boldness made everything special, this was also the biggest issue of this union: compared to him, you were frail and small, so your limbs succumbed before his strength and your body found hard to follow his pace after little time; with the weight of his body over yours, the steamy air barely filled your lungs, and his grip made it impossible for you to do things such as raising your hands to touch him.

Still, you watched your desire for him grow, so you wanted, you expected him to carry on: the taste of his lips had you addicted, and his scent on your nostrils was intoxicating. Like someone caught in the middle of strong waves, who finds a curious, new pleasure in their crashes against their skin, you found yourself wishing to see him crush, tear you apart, take everything out of you until there was nothing left.

I’m drowning... but I don’t want to escape.

This thought had you scared when it crossed your mind. You supposed that this was what people called a god’s enchantment, the reason why many couldn’t say no to become their lovers, to have their children or even to die or to be cursed for their sake.

This is how he keeps so many of us under his control, then.

Now you were gasping for air, your eyes burning with tears, and your body started to ache. Poseidon had his hands on your hips now, keeping you in place as he kissed your cheek. If you didn’t want to get hurt, you would need him to go easier, but would him hear you for a second time? Would you be testing his patience with this?

For the sake of your well-being, you decided to risk.

– P-Poseidon-sama… – you whispered, your hands on his shoulders – I can’t breathe…

For a moment, you thought he didn’t hear you, but you sighed in relief when he stopped at last, taking his chest off yours. Your lungs were immediately filled with hot air, and for a moment you were unable to speak.

– Look at you – you felt his fingers brushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead – So fragile that I could break you if I kept going… It is even pathetic…

You bit your lip to avoid an irritated reaction: yes, you weren’t expecting a formal apology for the state he put you in, but blaming you for it was too much. He laughed, as if your anger was too cute for him to take it seriously, and sat on the bed, taking you with him and adjusting you on his lap; your legs ached a bit, but at least you could breathe freely now. You leaned your hands on his shoulders as to seek for balance, and his hands kept a strong grip around your waist, guiding your body as he continued to make love to it.

– Still, I cannot help it – you felt his tongue on your cheek, where a single tear rolled through, wet and warm against your skin – Your flesh is softer… Your scent is more delicate… Your taste is sweeter… – he grabbed your thigh, pulling you tighter against himself; your muscles ached, making you moan – If I was a human like you, I would say you would be the death of me…

Those words aroused and surprised you at the same time.

In the beginning, by everything you’ve heard about Poseidon’s disposition towards your people, the fact that you were chosen to become his wife was just senseless; however, what he was doing, what he was saying now revealed a side of this story that you’d never suppose to exist. Was he as drawn to the human fragility as he claimed? Or was it the very reason why he rarely brought humans to his domains? This second hypothesis was easier to believe now that you were finally with him.

And if that was the case, your privilege – your luck – of still being alive was greater than you could imagine.

You felt his palm on the back of your head, his fingers slipping through your hair as he started murmuring in your ear, his lips brushing on it and making you shiver.

– Would you like it, little dragonet? If I said I would die because of you? – he kissed your lobe – Playing with your words, saying these absurd things about dying for each other… I have heard mortals enjoy it… But what about you? – and, since you didn’t reply, – Why are you so quiet?… Won’t you give me an answer? Hm?

You mumbled a negative reply, and he chuckled, his hot breath warming your skin.

– You do not like it? – his grip on your hair increased, keeping you in place – Liar.

– I’m not…! – you had the nerve to talk back – I’m not lying, my Lord…!

Instead of getting angry, Poseidon laughed at this: apparently, your frail attempts of denying him were really entertaining.

– Oh, no? – you felt his hands caressing your lower back, pulling you to him, his lips brushing over yours as he spoke – Then why your body says otherwise?

You bit your lip, refusing to reply because, in fact, you weren’t in conditions for this: the mere thought of having a powerful god at your feet, trading his life for you like a mortal man, was an audacity by itself, even more exciting when he put it in words. But you didn’t enjoy the sensation of having your fantasies exposed and scrutinized by him, so you avoided arguing, limiting your voice to gasps and tiny moans.

How did I end up this way? There’s a part of myself I don’t want him to reach... Still, my body desires him, to the point of making me think I would devote myself forever to him if I could… that’s so unfair...

Your heartbeats grew faster as hot tears fell through your face, and you threw your arms around him, hiding your face on his shoulder when your apex finally came.

However, it lasted longer than you expected: even though he noticed you were on your limit, Poseidon carried on for a while, only stopping when he has taken everything he could from you. By the end of it, your body was covered in sweat and your limbs were trembling, so that the only thing you were able to do was to stand still, panting.

He laid you down on the mattress, but didn’t take the spot by your side: he kept sitting on the same place, as you felt his eyes observing your exhausted form. Your ankle was tickled when he caressed it with his fingertips.

– I suppose you are not able to take more than this for now. So, stay there and rest – he spoke more to himself than to you; in his voice, you sensed a mixture of diversion and disdain for your state – But even when you are a tiny, delicate human, you resisted well, dragonet. You are a really entertaining creature. Bringing you here was a wise decision.

You were hearing all of this, of course, but being too tired to open your mouth or even to think of a response, you just stood quiet. If Poseidon thought you were already sleeping, you couldn’t tell, but he fell silent with the complete absence of your voice. Moments after, you noticed a pressure on the mattress, as if he was moving away from you, and the sound of the curtains being opened confirmed that he was going to leave you there alone.

***

You woke up in a startle and realized you were laying on the same position you were left on the bed. The curtains were closed, and everything was quiet inside them. You had no ways to be sure of how long you’ve slept, but you supposed it has been just a few minutes, because you didn’t notice any numbness or ache on the side of your body upon which you laid. You moved to the other side…

And startled when you found Poseidon lying there too. Your first impulse was to move away from him, but the possibility of him waking up and pulling you back to himself refrained you, so you first tried to make sure he was asleep: you didn’t even know if gods needed to sleep, but he was so quiet, his breath so slow and deep, that you were almost convinced that they did. You raised your hand and touched his chest, sensing it moving up and down to his breath, but no reaction came from him.

You moved your hand away, relieved, and tried to distance your body from his… but his voice, low and composed, stopped you midway.

– I am awake, if this is what you want to find out – you sensed the mattress being pressed as he moved on his side – And I would appreciate if you stopped trying to escape. You will return to the lodge, but only when I decide.

Before you could do anything, you sensed him stretching his arm and grabbing you by your waist, pulling you back and laying you upon himself. You shivered when you noticed he was still undressed, but stood quiet, your head resting on his chest, his arm wrapped tight around you. For a moment, you were afraid he would suffocate you again, but you were left at will.

You thought he would engage in a conversation after making you stay with him, but he just stood as silent as before: apparently, he had no interest in building any form of relationship with you through talking, but wanted to keep you as a living belonging, one that he could touch, smell and sense around him whenever he could, just as he was doing now: while he had one arm folded behind his head, the other one was around you, his hand tracing circles on your back, his fingers sometimes playing with your hair.

Your chest ached with that. If you were married to someone you knew well, and whom you had enough time to love, you would be in a peaceful, ecstatic state at that very moment. But, after being dragged to a room under the ocean to lie with someone you only knew by name and who wasn’t even human, there was no way for you to feel in peace now.

A lump appeared in your throat, and you tightened your lips and eyes to avoid crying, but when you noticed, your cheeks were wet and clingy, and you started trembling. You tried to contain your restlessness, but all your efforts were in vain, and none of this went unnoticed by Poseidon, who inquired you with a sort of annoyance.

– What is it?

You gathered all your strength to not sob and replied that you were just sore.

– Why didn’t you tell me earlier?

And, without waiting for a response, he took you out of the canopy, carrying you in his arms to another section of the room.

***

You went through a door that was invisible from the room’s entry, but easily detected when you left the bed. This door was similar to the one of the entry, but narrower, and it led to a corridor with cold, white lights and blue walls. By the end of it, there was what you supposed to be a bathing area, but you couldn’t see any shower or bathtub anywhere: it was just the floor and the walls decorated with small tiles that formed mosaics representing episodes of marine wildlife, from small creatures being swallowed by colossal predators to elegant beings playing, wandering and making love to each other. You were wondering why would someone want this last activity to be represented inside their house when Poseidon put you down and stepped away from you.

You passed your arms upon your chest and thought of asking what was going on when you saw him snapping his fingers, and the last thing you knew was your sight being covered by jets of warm water coming from all possible directions, making you protect your eyes as they cleaned your body entirely.

Heavens, if he wants to drown me, he could just say it out loud.

You closed your lips tight to avoid swallowing water, and after what seemed an eternity, the showering finally ended. With a sigh, you rubbed your face and blinked until your view got clear again. You were twisting your hair to take out the excess of water when Poseidon approached you and held you in his arms again; you tried not to look at his face, in order to avoid finding a new sign of disappointment in it.

You crossed a second door on the opposite side of the one through which you entered that area, and this time you entered a wider, lighter room that reminded you of a bathing house, with a rectangular water tank in the middle of it, so large that it looked more like a pool than a bathtub; the walls and the edges of the tank were of a rosy white, with delicate patterns of sea weeds and small fishes, and the water’s surface, trembling with ripples that reflected their shade, as well as the light descending from above, from what you supposed to be hidden lamps. All around you, the murmur of the streams falling from four spouts, one at each corner of the tank, worked to calm your moods as much as the lights.

One of the sides of the tank had three or four stairs carved on it that led to the water’s interior. Poseidon stopped in front of them and put you down, leaving you on the first stair as he went to a corner where you saw shelves of bottles in many sizes and shapes, something similar to what you found at the bathing area where Kenya and Yua took care of you earlier. He stretched his hand and grabbed one bottle on the top of a shelf, then a second on the one below it, then brought both with him.

The first bottle’s content reminded you of a pink, vibrant dust, and the second one was of pure white, like the expensive sugar you used to see at the tables of your father’s rich clients. Poseidon opened the bottles (their covers were attached to them) and poured a bit of each one on the water. He went back to put them in their previous places as you observed the color of the water change to a darker shade of pink, and a soothing fragrance came up from it as the dusts blended with it.

Once again, he came back and took you with him as he walked into the water.

The tub wasn’t really deep: on the opposite edge, in front of the stairs, the water reached Poseidon’s knees, which you supposed to be a bit above your own, and when he sat with you on his lap, the water covered your chest.

– What were those things that you poured on the water, Poseidon-sama? – you asked while observing your surroundings.

– Healing salts – he moved the strands of your hair away from your back, leaving your skin exposed – They will work on your pain and tiredness.

You didn’t reply, and he started taking small amounts of the water in his palms and pouring them on your skin, then massaging the wet areas: first, he caressed your back and shoulders, then spent a brief moment on your neck; he then made you uncross your arms and took care of them, and while you looked at his hands working, you startled when you saw the amount of reddish marks all over your body; still, you didn’t interrupt him. Your chest and your breasts were not forgotten, as he stroked them with his palms and gave special attention to your nipples, were the ache was deeper.

Since your thighs and legs were under the water, the effect of the salts reached them faster, still your husband took more time to take care of them: adjusting your position on his lap, he separated your legs and spent the next minutes caressing them, even more in the space between your thighs, where your muscles were more sensitive.

When Poseidon called those products “healing salts��, you supposed it was just a poetic name for common bath salts, which use was limited to cosmetic and relaxing properties, but as you sensed the pain ceasing with the massage and the warm water moving around you, as well as the subtle perfume of the salts entering your nostrils, you understood his words as a literal explanation. When you noticed, you were already feeling your eyes heavy, and, without warning, your head fell forward, and you only had time to sense him bringing it to his chest before the consciousness left you for the second time.

When you woke up, you were on the same place, and the water was still warm. You blinked and moved, trying to straighten up on your husband’s lap.

As soon as you did it, you heard his voice.

– I thought I would have to wake you up, dragonet – he brushed your hair, starting to dry, away from your shoulder – Usually, these salts just work on the pain and the superficial wounds on one’s body, and even to calm one’s mood, but they are strong enough to put a human to sleep.

You didn’t reply. He continued to speak, not letting it clear if he was talking to you or to himself.

– Each moment that passes, you find a new way to surprise me with your frailty – he chuckled – It is been a while since I allowed you to enter my domains, but you are still as tricky as in the old times. However, I am starting to enjoy the stressful mission that is taking care of you.

No word came out from your mouth in response, but you replied in thoughts.

If it’s so stressful, why did you bring me here in the first place?

If Poseidon was able to guess what you were thinking, you didn’t know, but he might have had a clue, judging by what he said to you next.

– You are always so silent. Is this shyness, or are you just not willing to share your thoughts with your husband?

That time, something grew inside you and gave you the courage to speak. You looked into his eyes – something that was even harder to do now that you were seeing his eyes under a clear light.

– If I told you everything that’s inside my mind, my Lord... Would you still keep me alive?

You noticed his right, golden eyebrow raising as he kept his glare over you for a moment, forcing you to look away. You felt his hand approaching your neck, his fingers crawling through your skin, making impossible for you to tell if he was just caressing you or if he was going to suffocate you.

– Why don’t you go ahead and speak your mind to find out?

You swallowed. If those were the conditions, you were better keep your mouth shut.

Poseidon laughed.

– Clever girl – his hand left your neck and held your chin, making you approach him; he gave you a long, warm kiss on your temple – Knowing when to talk and when to keep quiet is a beautiful virtue, and you seem to have mastered it. How did you do it?

Was it an invitation for you to tell him about your origins or past life? If that was the case, you would have to do it carefully: if his servants were able to find your house and deliver his message to your father, he must have been informed about details of your routine or homeland and was now testing your capacity of revealing and hiding things.

Not having much choices, you opted for an honest answer.

– I come from a family of merchants, Poseidon-sama. There is a saying among us: our voice, when well used, can be more precious than the gold we trade. In my house, we take this very seriously.

You observed the corners of his lips curl into a satisfied smile.

– It is good to hear that, dragonet. It means that there is at least one lesson I do not need to teach you.

Chapter 5

#snv #ror #snv poseidon #ror poseidon #oseidon x reader #snv x reader #ror x reader #snv poseidon x reader #ror poseidon x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon #record of ragnarok poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #record of ragnarok x reader

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spicyclover · 1 year

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Unplanned | part four

Summary: You are pregnant with Mick. It’s not going as planned; in fact, it’s not planned. Everything happened so fast, and everything was chaotic. Mick has a hard time accepting it. You have difficulty realizing that two of you may not be raising this child.

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Gina does not have time to answer when the door opens abruptly to let Mick appear.

She let a gasp out her lips while almost crashing into his chest. He is so much taller than her, and she’s forthwith looking down at his piercing sea gaze. His big blue eyes intimidate her, yet she tries to hold his gaze.

Mick looks her up and down as if analyzing a piece of clothing or a pair of shoes. No expression showed in his eyes, and he suddenly felt embarrassed to find himself in front of her.

An embarrassed silence settles between the two, and they no longer dare to look each other in the eye. Cheeks red with embarrassment, Y/n decides to run away from this embarrassing situation by rushing into her room and slamming the door loudly by accident.

The banging sound startles Mick out of his trance, and he looks up at his sister, who looks up in annoyance at her brother's lack of assurance to make the young woman feel at ease.

He doesn't have time to say anything to his sister before she goes down the stairs to find her mother in the kitchen.

Mick stays a few minutes in silence outside his door, not daring to knock or even speak through it. He just looked at the door before sighing and went to join his uncle in the living room.

She stayed behind the door, her ears on it, trying to listen but nothing. She sighs in relief and finally leans against the door. Her heart was pounding in her chest. A feeling of cold shivered through her body.

She didn't expect their meeting that way, and she feels foolish about running away from the situation as she did. She had a little speech in her head. She had planned it on the plane, and when she saw him, everything got away.

At the same time, she thought he would pick her up at the airport, and she would have time to find the courage to talk in the car.

Still glued to the door, she tries to regain courage. It’s so hard when you only want to run far, far away from here.

There’s a mirror at the back of the room facing the door. Her gaze falls on her sluggish silhouette in the dark, and she slowly realizes the pathetic look she gives off.

Before him, she had always been confident in her appearance and the image she gave to people. A strong and elegant woman, without being too extravagant or haughty. Sweet and smiling, kind and helpful, but still a bitch with her friend.

At this thought, a smile appeared on her face. She misses her friends. Since she met Mick, her life has changed. It is as if he had triggered an avalanche in her life and relationships.

Her friends got away from her without really knowing why. She didn’t understand her friends.

They went to the Austin Grand Prix. They partied, and Mick kissed her on Sunday night. Both pretty drunk, they ended up in a bed in his hotel room, having sex for hours.

She must admit that Mick is an excellent partner, yet that night, nothing counts and the alarm clock was not abrupt. She woke up in his arms, and they had sex again and breakfast together.

He asked for his number, and they spoke for a few weeks before he suddenly stopped answering his messages. She did not insist; it was only when she learned she was pregnant that she felt compelled to warn him.

Her friends blamed her for not being there with her on their boy-free weekend and for not being a good friend. Yet she is always the one who helps them when they are not well or when they need something.

She felt like she was stabbed in the back, and then the pregnancy happened. Somehow she had never felt more alone than at this moment.

The pregnancy test was in her hand, in the university bathroom, crying between the toilets. This was the most humiliating thing she’s done. Going out of that gross bathroom with red eyes and a face filled with guilt.

She chases her thoughts out of her head and opens the door of her room to join the other guests downstairs.

To be continued

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher x pregnant #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #fluff #pregnancy

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myymi · 4 months

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Batten felt breathless when those blue eyes turned to her. She was so certain she'd never get to see them again, but there they were. Staring right through her.

Sails smiled at her as she carefully landed beside him. Neither of them said anything for a while, staring at the other while waiting for them to speak.

They hadn't had a chance to talk to each other since before the big fight against Nine.

She had regretted not saying more to him when she watched that bomb explode. There were a lot of things between them that she believed just went unsaid, but still wanted to tell him at least once so he knew they were there. But she lost him before she could.

Then it was revealed she hadn't actually lost him to that bomb. He was okay and she found she had even more she needed to say. She wanted to yell at him for being so reckless and then tell him just how much he meant to her to keep him from pulling something like that again. But she didn't get a chance to, the fight far too chaotic for them to have a chat.

Just as the fox was ready to break the silence, the older pulled him into a tight hug. She closed her eyes to keep her tears from falling, but was fairly sure the kid knew how close she was to crying based on her breathing.

He didn't comment on it though, instead choosing to hug her back just as tight. He wrapped himself around her as much as he physically could, knowing that hugs from her was a rare occurance.

The hug lasted for a few long moments before Batten pulled away, keeping her hands on the younger’s shoulder, "Pull a stunt like that again and I'll send ye to meet Davey Jones myself."

Sails couldn't help but snort at that, giggling as he wiped his eyes. "Aye aye, Batten." The bat rolled her eyes, playfully punching the kit’s arm as she let him go.

"C'mon. I'll make ye a sea dog for savin us from that big bot." Batten said, nudging the fox to follow her.

Sails smiled, happy to see her acting like normal again, "Ye know I won't refuse yer sea dogs, Batten. But that was a team effort with Mangey."

"You seem to like that lad a lot." The bat noticed, taking a deep inhale of the salty ocean air as they walked to the other side of ship where they usually prepared food. "Why don't you tell me about him?"

Sails smiled, his twin tails wagging, "I think you'd like him a lot." He said hopping up to sit on the side of the ship once they made it to the cooking station. Batten nodded to show she'd take his word for it as she pulled out all the ingredients she needed, quickly getting to work on preparing a sea dog.

It wasn't unusual for the two of them to chat while one of them prepared some food. They did it quite often, but Batten still found the whole situation hard to believe.

She caught herself continuing to glance over to look at the fox next to her as he retold his expirence with Mangey.

She was so sure he was dead, it was almost harder to accept he survived the explosion. She was relieved the kid was okay, but she couldn't help but wonder just how he managed to get away.

He was fast, sure, but not fast enough to escape an explosion that big. At least, she was fairly sure he wasn't. If he was, he certainly didn't have the stamina to keep fighting.

She needed to know exactly what happened to her little brother.

Batten’s movements faltered at that thought, causing her to accidentally nick herself with sword. She heard Sails call out her name worriedly, taking hold of her hand to check the cut.

She hadn't said it aloud, but she called Sails her little brother. She always knew they were close enough for some sort of familial title, but was that the right one? She seemed sure of it two seconds ago.

The bat blinked when a paw was waving right in front of her eyes, looking down at the little fox.

"Ye alright, Batten?" Sails asked, his brow creased with worry as he held a rag against her bleeding finger. She wanted to tell him that it was just a small slip up and he was overreacting.

"I love ye, Sails." Batten admitted instead, smiling when the kit blinked at her in confusion. "Yer like a little brother. Annoying."

Sails looked like he was going to say something until he registered the last word, instead rolling his eyes. "Ye sure fit the big sister role, Batten." He grumbled, but the bat still saw his smile.

She didn't think she was fit for a family, but this one might just work out for her.

#i love these two so much i wish they weren't pirates #the lingo is so znsmskndkdd #miles tails prower #sonic the hedgehog #sth #tails the fox #sonic #rouge the bat #rouge and tails #sails the fox #batten rouge #sails and batten #anonymous source #after prime au #sonic prime #sonic prime spoilers #myydrabs

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sapphic-woes · 1 year

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When You Met Her pt. 5

A/N: Five chapters? Inconsistency who? Anyways, thank you all for the wonderful comments! Plz remember that encouragement, rather than demanding for more is much better though! MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1k AO3 Link

___________

You think it’s an odd question, considering it has nothing to do with you.

Bonds. You know it’s a fantasy. Didn't stop many omegas from whispering about it when your owners aren't around though. But you know better than to allow yourself that luxury. In the brothel the walls had ears, and you rarely saw the same omega dream about getting out of that hellhole twice. Yourself included.

“...Yes.” You stiffly mumble the response, “I know.” Viktor studies you, letting your lack of elaboration fill the room with silence. Sevika doesn’t speak either, and the heavy quiet eats away at what little calm you have. Fidgety, you protectively rub the back of your neck. Viktor’s gaze follows the movement, bright amber eyes sharply widening.

“Your neck.” You wince, shrinking into yourself as the doctor takes a step forward, “those scars…y/n did they…did they try to–”

Like a useless, rusty gate, your words slip past your lips before you can rein them in.

“I was wrong.” You grind the words out like bitter sulfur on your tongue. The room is becoming thick with emotions. It's stifling. It makes you want to run, yet you stay in place instead. Nothing good ever comes from running.

Viktor’s scent is sour, so potent you nearly gag, but that's not what scares you.

Sevika burns.

Her anger flows in disrupted waves. It’s an unpredictable tide threatening to pull you under. Instinct tells you to hide your nape. To curl up and protect it at all costs. Experience tells you such actions are useless. You’re going to be told each and every last bit of your mistakes, whether you liked it or not.

“I know. It won’t–it w-won’t happen. I know now. I know that n-now.” Your words are feverish, and shamelessly desperate. Your nails dig into your knees hard, and you nearly draw blood. You wish you did.

At the very least, it would pull you out of these memories. It wasn’t as if you’d never imagined being one of those rare omegas that had an equally rare, bonded alpha. However, you were quickly shown the consequence of it.

Now, they were a useless endeavor.

“It can’t happen to pr-property. I was wrong. I k-know that now so please…” There was a time you’d whispered those hopes aloud, but there were no secrets in the brothel. No way to know who wasn’t listening in on your foolish words…and no hesitation to crush them either.

“Bonds…" Your mind feels like a blank slate. The air is polluted. A single breath is a sea of emotions, yet you don't even flinch. Numbness creeps into your head, and all you can focus on is making them understand.

"Bonds aren’t for…omegas like me. A-an item for public use can't suddenly become exclusive. I know I am not v-valuable enough for that. I promise.” The words are branded on your lips. They pass listlessly under your breath as though rehearsed. You aren't greedy. You know your place.

You know the kind of omega you are.

“No one…is going to do that here. To think that happened to you for so long…” Viktor’s voice is tight. It’s strained as though it's a dam holding back a flood. It confuses you enough to look up, yet you’re still nervous, unable to meet Viktor’s solemn gaze. Instead you focus on his throat, watch it bob up and down in a painful swallow. A frail looking thing just like yours.

Only then did you notice the edges of his own scars at the curves of his neck. Too familiar to be a coincidence. Too many to have just been an accident. You know it's not a simple punishment. You know it's something particularly cruel owners do. Yet this doctor that seems completely separate from your world has them. Abruptly, you look up.

Viktor is faraway. You can tell those amber irises are distant. Seeing a memory, or perhaps a fragmented scene. The lingering ghost of his scars.

Somehow the gaze is familiar. It’s empty and vast, much too deep to understand. You’ve seen faces in the brothel like that. Or at least, similar ones. A bit of it you recognize. It's hollow, it's barren. But it blooms with a delicate, ebbing light. An emotion that vanished from omegas towards one another the longer they stayed in the brothel. One you forgot could ever be directed at you.

The omega's sad. Sad for what you lost.

“It doesn’t even…” Viktor takes a sharp, wavering breath. You’re so focused on Viktor, you don’t realize Sevika's walking out of the room until the door shuts.

Oh no. Though she’s gone, her anger lingers. It’s strong enough it’s like she's still here. She must care about the value of an omega’s nape, and obviously, you disappoint her. Will she throw me away?

Sevika is nicer than most alphas, and kindness, it seems, serves better to make you obedient than fear. You want to please her. She doesn't hit you, at least not yet she has, and you hope to keep it that way. You like this whole not hitting thing. She smells nice too. She smells like goodness.

Sevika is an alpha. But sometimes she makes you feel safe. Like there's nothing about her to actually fear.

You wonder what to make of that.

However, now she knows that the back of your neck is dirty. Gross with jagged marks. What will happen to you? You wonder if Viktor reassures you simply because there's no point in decreasing your worth even further.

“Sorry. Other than that I’m not spoiled, I swear. M-my holes are fine, and I’ve got no diseases, a-and I can take shimmer, no bad trips. I um, I-I’ve been told I’m good at it. I don’t need a lotta rest and don’t need much food. W-water too–”

“Y/N. You haven’t been brought here for that. You won’t be doing that again. Ever.” Viktor interrupts you. His voice hurts. At least, it sounds like it's hurting him. As if to ease the pain, he slowly speaks.

“Them abusing your nape doesn’t make you “spoiled.” Neither does it mean you can’t have a bond. There’s no way to make an omega unable to have a claim or a bond. Trust me…” Viktor turns around, tugging down the collar of his shirt. Surely enough, it's covered in scars similar to your own, but what surprises you more is what mark on top covers it all.

A clear bite mark, smelling precisely of an alpha.

“Or else I wouldn't have been able to have this either, would I?”

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane sevika #arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #jayvik #arcane viktor

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pocketjoong · 11 months

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❥𓂃𓏧THE RING chapter 4! masterlist

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS)Five years ago, the seas became unruly; there were waves large enough to drown islands, storms deadly enough to destroy anything, and monsters big enough to swallow ships. Everyone avoided the waters, never daring to stray too far from the shores. People had adapted to this lifestyle, but things changed for the worse. A report of dark mist swallowing islands and killing everything in its path was made. No one knew what it was. Everyone dreaded it, praying that it wouldn’t reach their islands. Around the same time, things changed for your family as well.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) merman!seonghwa x fem!reader; pirate!hongjoong x fem!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) violence. swearing. eventual smut. angst.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 3.2k

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (NOTES) I always enjoy feedback, reviews, and asks so don't hesitate to comment/send an ask! drumroll please We finally meet Kim Hongjoong!!! YAYYYYYYY!!! throws confetti all around We have some more action before we meet Jongho, so sit tight and don't forget to fasten your seatbelts because it's going to be a wild ride! <3! Anyways, do send an ask to be added to the taglist if you are interested! Also I cross post on AO3 only!

Before you can explain your plan to Seonghwa and Yeosang, something seems to catch their attention. The two males freeze in their tracks, observing the dark alleyway with narrowed eyes. You turn around as well, but other than closed shops, you see nothing at all. Moreover, the only sound you can hear is that of the wind chime in the seer’s shack. Confused, you turn to face Yeosang, who is frowning as he listens for something that is too low for you to hear.

“Someone is coming,” Seonghwa whispers urgently, gently guiding you into the shadows of the awning of another building right next to the seer’s shop.

Stood between the two mermen, you can’t really see much except for the flickers of shadows on the road, so you mainly have to rely on your ears to take in the movements around you. Whoever it is that your companions felt coming your way must be further away, for you can hear no footsteps or even whispers that would alert you to the presence of approaching people.

Seonghwa keeps his eyes on the road as he is in front of your little group. Like this, he appears ethereal, his scales shimmering in the dim moonlight. For a moment, you allow yourself to study his side profile, eyeing the curve of his nose and the arch of his lips. His silver-grey eyes appear darker, and his brows are furrowed in concentration as he listens for whoever is making their way towards you.

“If they attack, I want the two of you to run,” Seonghwa says under his breath, his eyes meeting yours before they travel to Yeosang, who stands behind you.

“But—”

Yeosang hushes you, cutting off your protest, making you glower at the male. However, it is at that moment that you finally register the quiet sounds of footsteps on the pavement. You duck your head under Seonghwa’s arm to see silhouettes of two people on the road.

“Are you sure this is the place?” You catch someone’s whispered words.

“I'm sure. The old man said this is the place we’d find her,” this voice is slightly higher pitched than the other one and has an allure to it that makes your breath catch in your throat.

The footsteps come closer and stop in front of the Seer's shack before moving inside. There’s a beat of silence where you contemplate telling your companions that all of you should leave, but before you can, the footsteps are back.

“The wench wouldn't even see us,” the person who speaks is the same one who was asking his companion if they were in the right place. He sounds agitated, seems like no one told him that the seer doesn’t accept male clients.

“Yunho,” the owner of the alluring voice admonishes the first person—who you assume is Yunho. “She is known to be... aloof with males. Looks like we might have to ask your contact here to help us.”

“With the Mist already touching the shores of Ceres, most of the residents here have left, Captain. I cannot promise you that she will be here,” Yunho tells the other male, who curses softly.

“And here I thought we would finally have answers for why the oceans are behaving like this…” there’s a pause, “or at least a way to stop them.”

Your brows furrow when you hear the words as your brain interprets the situation. Your eyes widen involuntarily, a plan forming in your head that you know will definitely not sit well with either male beside you, but it is better than what you had in mind. Taking a deep breath, you come out of the shadows, dodging Yeosang and Seonghwa's hands as they try to stop you.

Your eyes land on the two men, and you can tell that they are surprised by your sudden entrance. But the flash of confusion is gone as soon as it appears in their eyes, and they go back to looking at you with an unreadable expression.

You notice that one of them is taller, with a muscular build and a sculpted face. He raises his eyebrows in thought when you meet his gaze, and it is only because of your training that you don’t shudder at the ice in his narrowed eyes.

The other one is shorter, but you can tell that he is the captain based on the aura this man radiates. He has features that remind you of the drawings of pixies you have seen in the fairytale books in the library, especially due to how his eyes—which are as blue as his hair—shine with mischievousness and curiosity.

“What is a dainty thing like you doing here?” The shorter male speaks, and you bite back a smile as you realise that you were right about this guy being the captain. “It's dangerous to be out here, especially for someone like you.”

“We came here looking for the same answers as you,” you cut straight to the point, discreetly looking to the side to see Yeosang and Seonghwa watching you with expressions of exasperation. Seonghwa moves to step out, but you widen your eyes and look at Yeosang to tell him to stop the taller male. As expected, he braces his hand against Seonghwa, who turns to your pink-haired friend with what you can assume is a frown from the way his shoulders tense up.

“And you think—”

“Did the seer answer you?” The captain cuts off Yunho—whose words are tinged with caution and slight disbelief—with a raised hand.

“Of course she did,” you deadpan, lips quirking slightly when Yunho rolls his eyes with a huff.

“And?”

At this, your lips bloom into a sardonic grin, “If you think I'm going to hand you the information on a silver platter, you are gravely mistaken.”

The male watches you carefully, tilting his head just a bit as he regards you with curiosity. “What do you want? I can give you a pretty price for what she told you.”

The laugh that leaves your lips is harsh, which startles both the males in front of you. “I don't want money, I just want the oceans to go back to how they were and for the Mist to stop its destruction. That’s what you want as well, isn’t it?”

“Stop talking in circles and get to the point,” Yunho bristles, narrowing his eyes at you.

“We need to get to Coralhaven for more answers,” you reply.

“We?”

“She means us,” Yeosang finally steps out of the shadows with Seonghwa, and you watch as the captain grabs Yunho’s wrist to stop his hand from drawing the sword tucked in its sheath. The shorter male studies your companions carefully, gaze moving from one male to the next. You notice when his eyes pause Seonghwa's scales, which you are sure are visible in the dim lighting, and widen slightly before he turns back to you.

“What do I get in return, Princess?”

You are not surprised he put two and two together, especially since you had noticed his eyes light up in recognition when he was studying Yeosang. He definitely recognised the seal decorating his sword. You notice said male begin to speak from the corner of your eye and glare at him in warning. He shrugs, allowing you to speak.

“Glory.”

“...And treasure,” Yeosang adds, causing you to sigh through your nose and roll your eyes.

“I told you to keep quiet.”

“Oops?”

“Fine,” the captain acquiesces, drowning out Yunho's protests with a hand on the taller male’s arm. “But we need to talk once we get back on my ship.”

“Of course.”

“Follow me, then,” he guides you through the dark alleyway, walking next to you while the three taller males flank your back. The only reason you feel safe walking in front of Yunho is because you know that despite his build, Yeosang and Seonghwa won’t let him hurt you.

The port is bustling, just like the port on the other side of the city, which is packed with people leaving for Crestshore. If only there wasn’t an undercurrent of danger and the stalls didn’t have artillery and other priceless items you wouldn’t find easily, you would have mistaken it for the same one you had entered Niafell from.

You notice that the steps of the male walking beside you lighten considerably the closer you get to the harbour. Wordlessly, he hastens his pace, and it takes you a second to do the same. It is only when you see a familiar ship that your steps falter a bit, which doesn’t escape the eyes of the captain. He turns around, walking backwards in front of you with a roguish tilt of his lips.

“Surprised, Princess?”

“Not really. With my luck, I'm not surprised you’re the one we ran into,” you shake your head in slight disbelief. Out of all people, you just had to run into the Pirate King. The Destiny Ship is well known throughout the kingdoms, almost as infamous as the captain of the ship. No one knows his name or where he came from, but he was quick to rise in notoriety and influence despite owning just one ship instead of a whole fleet like most well-known pirates that sailed the oceans. “I should have known when you recognised me. Only the Pirate King would know the faces of the members of the royal families of Sirelia.”

“Gotta keep myself safe somehow,” he shrugs and stops in front of his ship. His eyes suddenly turn serious, and he sighs, nodding towards the side.

You frown, not noticing anything of significance except that the two docks beside his ship are empty. “Am I supposed to be seeing anything?”

A sharp inhale causes you to whip around, and you notice that Seonghwa looks paler.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask, moving closer to the taller male whose hands are now shaking. Your hands move to touch his, but when he flinches, you step back with a cough, “Seonghwa?”

“It’s the Mist. You can't see it because it’s dark right now,” Yeosang explains, sounding slightly winded. He rubs Seonghwa’s back soothingly and meets the Pirate King’s eyes, “We should leave.”

“That's the plan,” the shorter male replies, climbing the ladder and disappearing only to peek his head to signal you to do the same. Yeosang starts to climb the ladder, and you follow him, noticing how the sounds on the deck get louder the closer you get. As you reach the edge, the Yeosang grabs you and helps you onto the deck while you wait for Seonghwa and Yunho to do the same.

Yeosang guides you to the side of the ship, pointing at the same area the captain had indicated. It is only then that you notice something is off, the waters next to the ship reflect the light from the port, but merely a few meters away, it is eerily dark, as if something is absorbing all the light. A shudder runs down your spine, and you involuntarily take a step back.

“It's okay. It won't hurt us, not now at least,” you hear the soft voice of the captain speak from beside you. He's watching the Mist with an expression that borders sorrowful, but when he turns to you, the corner of his mouth lifts up in a wry smile. “Everyone on the island will have ample time to leave before it takes over and destroys the island.”

“How do you know that?” Seonghwa asks, narrowing his eyes at him.

“We have heard stories from our allies,” despite the question being meant for the captain, it is Yunho who answers Seonghwa’s query.

“Alright, let’s get the hell out of this place,” the captain claps his hands, strutting towards the rest of his crew, barking orders amidst the flurry of activity on the ship.

It is only when the ship is safely out of view of the island and is well on its way to Coralhaven that the captain calls for the three of you in his cabin. The room is neater than you would expect the captain's quarters to be. On the right, a bed is tucked away into the corner, directly in front of which there is a chest of drawers. The left side is set up like an office; there are shelves full of books and other trinkets on one side and walls lined with cutlasses and guns. A table occupies most of the space, surrounded by a few chairs. As you walk closer, you see that the tabletop is littered with notes, journals, a map, a globe, and an inkpot that you recognise to be of Sileria from the craftmanship and raise an eyebrow at the captain, who grins.

“First things first,” he says as the five of you gather around the table, “My name is Hongjoong, and this is my first mate, Yunho.”

“I’m Yeosang. This is Seonghwa, and this is Y/N, but you already knew that,” Yeosang replies sarcastically. “I speak for all three of us when I say that I want to know why the two of you were looking for answers from the seer.”

“We don’t mind battling a raging ocean. We’ve been doing that for the past few years. But the Mist complicates matters a little, and we would rather not have all of the world getting destroyed.”

“That’s quite chivalrous of you,” Seonghwa ribs, tone tinged with astonishment.

“Don't sound so shocked,” Hongjoong huffs. “I have my own reasons for wanting to stop the Mist, and if it helps everyone else, I won't complain.”

“What did she tell you?” Yunho finally asks.

You hesitate a bit, looking at Yeosang once before facing Hongjoong and Yunho. “We need to find the forgotten one. The seer said that he will guide us to the things that will stop this mess.”

“The three treasures,” Hongjoong whispers, ring-clad hands brushing over the globe. “How do you know the person we are looking for is in Coralhaven.”

“He... he was banished from Atlantis,” Seonghwa’s voice is barely above a whisper, but all of you hear him clearly.

Hongjoong's hands freeze on a particular part of the ocean on the globe as he nods.“Okay.”

“How do you know about the lost treasures?” Yeosang prods, and you watch a deep sigh leave Hongjoong.

“We’ve heard whispers,” he states, skimming through a few pages scattered on his desk before he pushes a few closer so that you can see what’s written on them.

Cocking your head to the side, you regard the papers with interest. You don’t understand much, for the writing is horrible—scribbles that look more like insects pressed upon the loose leaf—but the inked circles, possibly made by Hongjoong on these pages, stand out to you. As you hum in interest, Yeosang is spurred into action, moving to lean over your shoulder as you point them out to him. Each encircled word is an equivalent of “the three lost treasures”.

“Those who set out in search of Atlantis have all heard of these treasures,” Hongjoong pauses as though searching for words to soften the blow he is about to deal. “No one is sure what they are or what they do or even where they are. But it doesn’t change that everyone agrees the locations of the treasures are only known to a particular kind of Atlantean, and there’s only one alive in any generation.”

“The Keeper,” Seonghwa supplies, his words soft, acting as a balm to the anxiety that arises from the captain’s words. “But you need a true royal and their guard to access them.”

“How do we get to all three people?” Yunho scoffs, crossing his arms and regards all four of you with furrowed brows.

“Well, we know the Keeper is in Coralhaven,” Yeosang replies, eyes trained on Hongjoong, who nods. You can’t tell what it is, but you are sure the two of them are having a silent conversation with their eyes, and you can’t wait to get your friend alone to ask him questions.

Seonghwa takes over for Yeosang, seemingly coming to the same conclusion as you, “We’ll worry about the royal and their guard when the time comes.”

“Well then, the three of you will be staying in a separate cabin from the rest of the crew,” Hongjoong announces, expression vacant and distant. He seems to shake off whatever it is that is haunting him and nods at his first mate, “Yunho, could you please guide our guests to where they will stay for the rest of our journey?”

“Yes, Captain,” Yunho replies, walking out of the captain’s quarters, not even caring whether the three of you are following or not.

“Princess?” Hongjoong calls just as you reach the door of his cabin, causing you to turn to face him with a quirked eyebrow. “I hope you won't mind working around here, can’t have people not doing anything on the ship.”

“Not at all,” you smirk. “Though, I’m practically useless at cooking, so don’t expect me to help around in the kitchen.”

Hongjoong laughs, a tinkling sound that makes you grin as well. “That’s fair. Please report to Minjae tomorrow, you'll find him on deck with Yunho early in the morning.”

“Aye, Cap'n,” you reply, watching Hongjoong bite back a smile.

“Thank you, Princess.”

You shut the door behind you, breathing in the salty air. The ship gently rocks back and forth on the waves. The familiar feeling of being back on deck after years makes you nostalgic, and your eyes meet Yeosang’s. It seems he’s thinking the same thing, for he smiles at you. Even in the dim light of the crescent moon, you can tell that both Yeosang and Seonghwa look much livelier now that you’re kind of in their element.

Yunho clears his throat impatiently, guiding all of you below deck, where there’s a hallway with doors on each side. He walks to one at the end of the hallway and opens it for you. “This will be your home for the rest of our journey.”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa says, ducking into the room, and is followed by you and Yeosang. The room is nothing special and is pretty empty save for the two bunk beds and a couch on the other side. The only thing that adds to the beauty of the room is the small windows. Curious about the view, you walk over, taking in the vast expanse of the dark sea in front of you.

“Listen,” Yunho’s voice cuts through the silence, and all of you look at him in curiosity. “Hongjoong may have agreed to whatever this alliance is, but I don’t have to like it. I will keep my eyes on you all the time.”

“Is that a threat?” Yeosang questions, leaning back against one of the bunk beds. His countenance screams casual, but you don’t need to know him well to hear the dangerous undercurrent of his words.

“Consider it a warning. Do something weird, and I won’t hesitate to hurt you.” With that, the first mate shuts the door. In the silence of the room, you can hear the tapping of his boots on the wood fade in the distance.

“He doesn’t like us much, does he?”

You look at Seonghwa incredulously before bursting into laughter.

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