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emsgwenstan · 2 months

Text

personal or professional?

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader

Chap 6 | chap 7 | chap 8

Words: 2k?

Warnings: the warning is for next chapter… just unhealthy parental dynamic.

Note: sorry about the skipping, I needed this to be the prompt for what’s to come! Lmk if you think you know what that might be 😂

Over the next week I finished up for the year at work and sorted through all of the the engagements for the beginning of next year, a kitchen in January, laundry in the beginning of February and other odd jobs over the next couple of months, not to drastic. Today though, I'm so exited because Larissa and i are going to Burlington to shop for clothes for me and hopefully I can be rid of the shitty ones I have at home.

The car ride was only 45 minutes and it flew by quickly, firstly we entered an ordinary looking clothes store and immediately we knew this was just not it, we opted to stroll the streets for a while to find something more appropriate and finally we found what were both silently looking for. Luxury brands. Channel, Armani, Valentino, all of the above, consequently Larissa and I decided to split up and go to other stores separate from each other leaving us to our own devices.

I kept heading down the street until I reached Burberry, the grin on my face spread wider at the sight, finally knowing that I can actually fit into these sorts of clothes now, I mean I still have a fear that ill try something on and it will be to small, but I guess I should have faith. Money, is not an issue, that's the only reason I don't mind being here, I suppose I don't have kids to fund nor shared accounts with a significant other I have to worry about, what else am I supposed to do with my money, god knows I've saved enough to be set for life, a few thousand dollars spent on luxury wear is only knocking off less then half a percent…not to brag or anything.

Time seemed slipped away from me as Larissa called wondering where I was, I told her I was just exiting a cafe a block away from her. With two take away cups and 16 bags around my arms I made my way back, the look on her face and the laugh that bubbled from her chest was delightful when we finally met up again. "Did you get enough?" she asked giggling. "Yep, I got 7 pairs of pants, 11 shirts including blouses and turtle necks, I got 3 pairs of shoes, 2 or 3 dresses, shit loads of underwear and 2 beautiful coats." I said proudly, passing her a hot chocolate.

"You will have to show me all of them." She said suggestively taking a sip. "I will." I said walking in tandem with her strides. A while later we were exhausted and decided to go home, the bustling streets were chaotic, people were crawling everywhere in hopes of a last minute Christmas present, I was lucky enough to get a few things for Larissa.

Now back at nevermore, I helped her take up the astounding one bag and graciously laid on her bed as she began to pack a suit case for our trip. It was entertaining to watch her flit about her room and gently yet meticulously place each article of clothing into the case. We were chatting about a few teachers when I abruptly cut her off to at snatch the material she held in her hands.

"Oh...my...god!" I dragged holding up the item. "Violet give it here." she said blankly. "My my my Larissa, this isn't very appropriate for a headmistress now is it." I teased. "Give it to me." she said with a wild blush and an extended hand. "Nope." I said hopping off the bed holding the silk and black lace sleep garment to my front. "Violet." she said as a warning before chasing me around the bed. "What would my father say if he saw you wearing this!" I laughed jumping back over the bed to get away from her.

Larissa changed tactics by stopping and calming herself. "Violet, darling, sweet angel, please give it back." she said bent at the hips with her hands braced to the mattresses surface peering into my eyes batting her own eyelashes. I stood in front of her open suit case to find the matching bottoms, to which I discarded the top, picked those up then picked up a pair of red lacy panties and held them between both my index fingers. Larissa crawled over the bed and snatched them away tossing them back into the case.

But she wasn't going to let me get away, Larissa grasped my shoulders pulling me to fall on the bed, then in one fell swoop straddled my thighs. "Are you going to behave my sweet?" she purred in question. My hesitation made her eyebrows raise. "mhmm." I hummed cheekily. She leaned down and kissed me silly, filling me from head to toe in joy, what absolute fucking bliss.

———

Christmas day rolled around feeling like just any ordinary day to me, however I wasn't alone for the first time in years and just looking at Larissa I could tell she loved charismas. That woman had an 11 foot tree installed in her office and baked for hours last night before I arrived to spend Christmas eve, I'm sure we watched 5 movies and could have died from the amount of sugar we inhaled, but in the end it was all worth it, I forgot how exiting in can be when your with the right people.

We opened presents and Larissa adored the things I brought her, cream leather gloves with a matching wide belt that had a gold emblem situated in the middle, a Versace headscarf, a 3 pack of red lipsticks in her shade and a chunky gold bracelet that I saw her eyeing before we left Burlington. She passed me a few to unwrap with untamed glee, the first was a gold signet ring with the letters 'VAH' cursively inscribed. "A?... how did you know my middle initial?" I asked her, she shrugged with a grin. "i think Adeline is a beautiful middle name by the way." I was so confused but didn't question it further. The next was a few more poetry books and a Louis Vuitton bag that was black and grey, it was stunning, there were a few more little things, but my greatest gift was being able to share the day with her.

We ended the day wrapped in warm sheets together and possibly, maybe, there could have been another Christmas present that carried on until the early hours of Boxing Day...

———

The day has come for Larissa and I to travel the 5 hours to stay with dad, something I didn't think id say. I can feel dread set in the pit of my stomach knowing that's this its going to be far from enjoyable, I didn't want to drag her into something that she'd want to retreat from yet I still did it anyway, I guess we're lucky Louise, jade and the little girls are gonna be there.

We packed my car and sorted out the arrangements for leaving, like making sure the doors were locked, the gates were secured at the school and hazards are resolved before leave, it'll be 2 weeks until we return and it would be great if nothing was broken into or burned down.

Larissa took charge of the music choosing Madonna and lady gaga to be the main voices for the drive and began asking 500 questions about each individuall she will be meeting, of course I warned her about my father and ignorant step mother, I told her their hardly home always gallivanting around town- separately might I add, doing god knows what, his latest thing is golf, before that was going to the shooting range and before that was hunting.

With only an hour left, Larissa had fallen asleep in a rather uncomfortable looking position, I shimmied off my jumper and tucked it behind her neck all while staying on the road. My body almost feels magnetised as I drive closer, if I could, I’d turn around and go back.

“How much longer now?” Larissa asked with her head resting against the seats headrest whilst simultaneously grasping my thigh. “22 minutes.” I said removing my hand from the gear stick to wrap around hers. “That’s very specific.” She said. “It is isn’t it.” I ended. She seemed to notice my deep, heavy breathing and flickering eyes. “Everything is going to be ok sweetheart.” She cooed bringing up my hand to place a kiss to the back off it. “I know… I just haven’t been back for a while.” This is the place I should be calling home because I grew up here and I’m returning to it, but it never was- I know Jericho is my home.

Larissa just came to the realisation that this town is probably the same place where my ex-fiancé lives and understands the situation a bit more now, she gives me a sympathetic smile and placed our intertwined hands in her lap stroking over the skin.

Instead of going through town I opted to take the back roads, soon enough we were turning down the driveway that’s since been tarred over and passed by the concrete pillars with horribly carved out gargoyles, I could only think one thing. Fucking asshole, what poor taste. The house came in to view and my blood started to simmer, new roofing, new window shutters and a wraparound porch, I must remember to ask where the white picket fence is.

Putting the car in neutral I killed the engine and huffed not wanting to get out. “Come on let’s go.” She said unbuckling her seat belt and mine while she was at it. “Fine…we’ll just leave this crap in the car and come back and get it later.” I groaned pertaining to our luggage. We stepped out of the car into the cold wind and I put my jumper back on, because Larissa made me… we walked towards the front door, but I stopped to give Larissa a loving kiss, one she hummed and smiled into before entering the threshold of hell.

After knocking, the door opened a moment later only the person who opened it was rather small, I had to look down in confusion until it melted away, the best little person ever grinned up at me with huge green eyes. “Auntie violet!” She squealed. “Lilly!” I yelled laughing scooping her up and twirling around pulling giggles from her, I kissed all around her face until she was begging me to stop.

“Lil, what did I say about opening the door to stra- oh vi!” Louise said. “Hey Lou.” I spoke letting Lilly down from my hold to give her a hug. “Missed ya baby sis.” I whispered in her ear. “Missed you too.” She replied. Then came walking over was the other baby sister. “Jaddie.” I said wrapping my arms around her. “Oh god you haven’t called me that in years.” She said patting me on the back. I laughed and took a step back realizing Larissa was still in the door way. “Who’s that?” Lilly asked in a loud whisper. I waved in Larissa and introduced her to the girls. “This is my friend Larissa, she’s gonna be staying with us too.” I said. “Larissa this is Louise, jade and Lilly my two sisters and niece, charlottes here too yeah?” I said. “Yeah she’s down for a nap, it’s lovely to meet you Larissa.” Louise spoke giving her a light hug that was surprisingly not awkward. “Likewise.” Larissa said.

“She’s really pretty.” Lilly said tugging on my trousers. “She is isn’t she.” I said looking to Larissa. All of us were looking between Lilly, Larissa and I. “Do you think she wants to play with me?” She asked. I looked to Larissa for an answer. She walked over and squatted down in front of Lilly. “I… would love to play with you angel.” She said jutting out her chin and scrunching up her nose at the small girl. Larissa extended to her full height again and stood beside me, rissa fits well with the rest of us, hair all some shade of blond and all fairly tall.

“Right I’m off.” That voice ugh. “See ya later.” He said brushing past us all. “Um dad?…” jade questioned. “What?” He looked up putting on his coat. “Oh Violet. You’re here, good, there’s a load of washing to be hung out, I’m going to the golf course so have dinner done when I get back.” He said looking me up and down. “huh, you lost weight.” I sarcastically chuckled as he walked out, honestly I could have ripped his head from his shoulders if he didn’t leave. Larissa was gob smacked at what just happened. “So rissa, that’s my dad, Robert Hastings is what he would have introduced himself as if he wasn’t a prick.” I stated, she looked at all of us who were used to his behavior. “Please forgive me but that was utterly rude.” She said slowly. “We know.” The three of us said in unison.

We moved the reunion into the lounge room and on the way Larissa noticed the photos on the walls, only one had me in it from when I was 14, the most hideous picture if you ask me. She saw the plaques and certificates blown up to be the center of attention. “Wait… your father is Robert Hastings, like the criminal lawyer?” She turned to face you all. “Mhmm.” Jade hummed as we rolled our eyes. “Oh.” She said coming to Sit down awkwardly.

———

Over the next couple of days the strain between dad and myself only ten folded, he had come back that night, actually introduced himself to Larissa and continued to only talk about how 'great' he is, I feel myself cringe every time he ran a hand over his salt and pepper hair giving the impression of how cocky he is and dare I say the way he looked at her, she side eyed me the whole conversation. Larissa and I are staying in my old room that's now full of golf clubs, hunting gear and guns lining the walls, how quaint, he removed my old queen size bed and replaced it with a double leaving Larissa and I to practically lay on top of each other all night, not that we complain. We have kept our relationship under wraps the whole time not getting to close while others were around, only the most inconspicuous touches were used, although, my sisters know me well enough to eventually pick up on the fact that there's more than friendship between us, I'm just waiting to be pulled aside by them.

Larissa is fitting in quite well with my sisters and she seems to love Lilly just as much as i do, she's more cautious around Lottie- charlotte, Louise's baby, she thinks she'll do something wrong since she hasn't to much experience with babies. We were sitting in the dinning room with craft scattered about the table when Lilly gave me a crown made of fake red flowers. “Auntie vi, should I make Larissa one?” She asked cupping her hand to the side of her cheek and beside my ear to whisper. “Sure.” I replied. “What colours?” She wondered. “Mmm…” I hummed looking at Larissa squinting my eyes, I turned back to the small girl and said. “how about purple and blue, it will match her hair.” She retracted and gave me a toothy grin before getting to work on Larissa’s new accessory.

Once finished, she rounded the table and offered up the head piece. “I made this for you.” She said holding it out for Larissa to take. “Oh thank you sweet angel!” She gleefully spoke, placing it upon her head, it fit just right, her hair was in a low ponytail letting her wavey curls have a break from the usual confinement. She turned to me smiling only just realizing that I had one too, she was to invested in sorting out the glitters and coloured paper to notice.

"I think you should kiss auntie Violet." the cheeky girl blurted out, my face dropped and went scarlet at her statement. Larissa chuckled and looked surprised towards Lilly. "Should I now?" she asked. "yep, she keeps staring at you." she said confidently then stood between us gripping both of our arms with tiny hands and pulled us closer together. "i think we should give her what she wants don't you?" Larissa asked, I gave her a disapproving look at the fact of giving into a 4 year old, but thinking the words ‘fuck it’ I leaned in and kissed chastely on her lips. Pulling away I blushed again and glowered at Lilly and her smug look.

———

*Larissa’s pov*

The next morning I woke to find that Violet wasn't in bed, I rose, wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and padded down the hallway and the sight I found warmed my heart completely, vi was standing in the kitchen preparing a bottle for charlotte, holding her to her chest and lightly swaying and humming to keep the child calm. While she was waiting for the milk to cool a bit she gazed out of the window above the sink at the pink and blue sky as it was still before sunrise.

I peered over to the light coming from the television and saw that Lilly was laying on the lounge quietly watching cartoons. I could feel the love radiating from me just being able to view this beautiful moment, but when I know violet has had the luxury of this life ripped away from her I cant help but feel a horrible sense of sadness, this beautiful woman was meant to be a mother, have a loving family and be a strong devoted wife.

Violet must have sensed my presents because she turned around to gaze at me and summon me over with a gentle jerk of her head. "Morning darling." she said tilting her head for a kiss, I could taste the tea on her lips and placed another to her temple drawing back to see the child in her arms, the whole time she had a smile graced upon her lips and glimmer in her eye that was small but there nevertheless.

"I could hear them stirring and thought to watch over them so Lou could sleep." She said moving to occupie the lounge Lilly rested on taking the bottle with her. "I was wondering where you were." I said taking a seat beside her.

———

over the next couple of hours violet and I lazed about the property going for a walk in the shallow snow and soaking in the time we have together, idle talks about mundane things ensued, her god awful father finding place in topic and the fact that her step mother has been absent over the 4 days we've been here. I also decide to bring up the conversation I initially avoided when first asked, first loves. I don't like to think about Mortica, but I think its only fair that she knows, if she can entrust me with things about her past what stops me from doing the same?

She took it very well not that it was that bad anyway, a teenager in love with her roommate and the inevitable angst and heartbreak along with it, its quite embarrassing I haven't been able or willing to obtain a relationship since then, but that doesn't mean I hadn't had other partners in between.

———

*violets pov*

Sitting down in the living room doing puzzles on the coffee table with all the girls, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the background noise of the tv become irritating, the lights feel to bright and dads presents while sitting in his chair feels suffocating. Larissa and jade are having a conversation about something, Lou is sat across from me with Lottie in her lap and Lilly's half draped over my left half, I feel uneasy but shake the feeling. Its nearing 4:30pm and soon enough ill be able to sleep off what ever this is and be one with Larissa in the ridiculously small bed.

A knock on the door interrupted the small noise of the room and dad shot up so fast just to answer it. "ill get it." he said snapping down the recliner pacing to the door. They all looked at each other and me with furrowed brows, I continued to place a piece of the puzzle into its slot and silently ask Larissa to be closer to me.

"We have a guest." dad said, with my back turned I looked to jade and Louise, their faces displaying shock and utter fright, as they both looked at me I could tell that who ever it was it wasn't good, I could see in their eyes they were begging me not to turn around, I peered to Larissa who looked confused as her gaze cut to me, to behind, then back to me.

my eyes moved in the direction before my head started to swivel, when my eyes came in contact with what was behind me my blood ran cold, skin turned white, my vison blurred and my breathing almost completely stopped. I. Feel. Sick.

I just wanna say thank you for everyone who has kept up this far I appreciate it sooo much especially the reblogs and comments.

My anon friend- @lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant @barbarasstar@giogwensversion @sabraaabra@readingtheentrails @readingtheentrails @hungry2bhelpful

#larissa weems #principle weems #larissa weems x y/n #gwenchrist(ie)#wlw fanfic #larissa x reader #gwendoline christie #wednesday #larissa weems x reader

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cellsshapedlikestars · 2 years

Note

Your stories & regency movies are my happy place currently in a world of awful. Also, so glad you're inspired to start into On the Run again because I love it! ALSO ALSO - another reality show prompt if you're interested lolol. Sansa is the host of a reality show (dating? survivor-y? Skill-based forged in fire-y?) and Jon is on the show. Maybe fans of the show are obsessed with them?

first - thank you anon, I'm so happy you like my writing! That's so sweet

second - funnily enough, @hilarychuff and I MAY have gone on a tangent a long time ago about alternate Bachelor stories, including one where Sansa was hosting Bachelor in Paradise (and I even wrote a bit at that time, too). Smash cut to me getting this prompt, and I was immediately reminded of that. So thank you anon, for the prompt, which got me to finish the snippet I had started writing, and thank you to hil, for helping brainstorm & come up with ideas! I didn't even get to use most of them, but they will live rent free in my head.

third - this is in no way related to my full Bachelor story, I just have a problem. And yes, I did write this during the 3 hour Bachelorette finale last night. It kept me sane.

read it here:

ephemera, chapter 30

Sansa rolls her luggage into the hotel room, depositing it near the foot of the bed before turning and flopping face down onto the mattress.

She can't believe she's back.

One would think, after two disastrous runs on this show, that she would know better than to sign another contract.

First, her time on Joffrey's season that had ended with her in tears, humiliated on national television. Watching that season back had been a revelation. Watching him lie to her. Watching her eat it up. She remembers in the Fantasy Suite, he'd told her he loved her and hinted she was going to be his winner, and she had agreed to sleep with him, thinking he'd be her fiance in another two weeks - only to be dumped in the finale for Margaery.

And then, while she was still emotionally destroyed and with her dignity in ruins, she had agreed to be Bachelorette. She'd signed the contract with the producers telling her this would be her comeback, she would be redeemed, she would get her love story. Instead, what she got was Harry. An actor and musician who she only found out later, after she picked him (after he put a ring on her finger), had a girlfriend already. He was using the show - using her – to further his career.

God, why did she agree to come back?

At least she's only the host this time.

…

Free vacation, she reminds herself as she sits down with Tyrion, and Varys for her debriefing. That's what they're calling it – debriefing – as if this is some top secret mission and not a reality TV show that, ultimately, is meaningless.

She's reminding herself why she's doing this. Free vacation, and the fat paycheck she would get from it. A big paycheck. They're desperate, after the scandal that ousted Jaime from his iconic host role – one he'd held for over a decade. They had called her up and practically begged her to come to Paradise. They needed the ratings she could bring. Twice-dumped Sansa. Even now, a year and a different Bachelorette later, people are still calling for her return.

It's sweet, really, that people want her to have her love story. It's sweet that they care. And she's lucky, she knows, to have come out the other side of this with a relatively positive reputation within Bachelor Nation. There was even a recent poll where she was voted the most popular Bachelorette of all time.

But the thing is, Sansa can't do this again. She can't have her heart broken on television, in front of millions of people, again.

So she'd turned them down. A hard no. And no, there's nothing they could do to convince her.

Well, that was her stance, until they offered her the host gig. Take over Jaime's role, instead of coming on as a contestant. Get on camera to welcome the actual contestants to Paradise, say a few lines at the elimination ceremonies, do some narration in post-production. Minimal work, considering the amount of money they're throwing at her just so she'll come back. Just so she'll help them rebuild a bit of their crumbling reputation after the scandal.

She can do this.

Free vacation, minimal work, lots of money.

…

The first round goes fine.

Sansa stands at the entrance to Paradise and greets each new cast member as they show up. She's friends with some of them, and familiar with almost all of them – Dany arrives first, her pale blonde hair in a crown of intricate braids and wearing a silver bikini she barely hides under a wrap. The show had tried to paint her as a villain on Daario's season, but most of the audience ended up liking her anyway, and now she's set to be the star of the beach this season. Sansa can already picture the men tripping over themselves to get with her.

Next comes Theon, from Val's season, all cocky smile and waggling eyebrows as she greets him. Then Mya, Dickon, Myranda... the list goes on. She loses track of who she greets, and by the end of it, her cheeks hurt from smiling. Then she goes and gives the group a welcome speech, hands out the date card, and she's done.

Back to the hotel for a massage and a drink (or two).

By the time she's nice and relaxed and laying by the hotel pool, she thinks she definitely made the right decision.

…

The day after the first elimination round, Sansa stands at the top of the stairs leading down to Paradise, waiting for the new arrivals. As she's waiting, she reads the card that has the basic info of the new contestants again, just to make sure she's got it.

First will be Domeric, he was on one of the earlier seasons. She doesn't remember him, and she wonders if the audience will.

Then it's Jon. She does remember him – he'd been on Val's season, the year after Sansa's.

Sansa remembers Jon the way everyone else does – because Twitter went crazy over him. He'd been eliminated night one, and Twitter had gone into an uproar about it. The hashtag #MechanicJon was trending through the whole season, memes were made, a petition was created to make him the next Bachelor. All for a guy who was eliminated night one, who didn't even have an Instagram account until he became internet famous and had to create one because of all the fake accounts that were popping up.

She's surprised he's here, honestly.

Though to be fair, the contestants are actually paid for Paradise, so he probably figured why not – a couple grand for three weeks of shooting, plus a free vacation to Sayulita? She's here for the same reasons.

Domeric comes down first and he's nice enough. She greets him and hands him the date card, and he heads in, no issues.

Then Sansa's dabbed with oil blotters, she's given a fresh coat of powder to try and hide how ungodly hot it is here, and then she's back in position, waiting for the next arrival.

Jon comes down next, and she will admit, she does understand the appeal of him. He's so unlike most of the other contestants – he's a mechanic from Boston (which actually isn't too far from her hometown). From the brief minutes of screentime he got, plus the bits she's seen of him on social media, he almost seems like a sort of anti-contestant. Someone she never could have imagined would go on the show. She thinks she remembers some article, where he said his niece had begged him to go on, which is the only reason he did.

“Welcome to Paradise,” she greets when he makes it to her. He's even more handsome in person, she thinks idly.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, then seems to rethink it and adds, “it's great to be here.”

He's a bit awkward, she thinks he doesn't really know how to hold himself in front of cameras. It's refreshing, actually, and sort of cute. He gives her a tentative smile that she returns in full, and her smile seems to give him a bit of confidence - she watches his shoulders square and his spine straighten, and his own smile gets wider.

“Now, you had such a short run on the show, are you excited for the possibility of finding love here in Paradise?”

“Yeah,” he says, though he doesn't sound convinced.

“Let's try that again, with a bit more enthusiasm,” Tyrion calls from behind the camera, and Jon winces. “Say you're excited to get a real chance at love. You're looking for The One.”

She can see Jon hesitate, and she realizes now why he was sent home night one. He doesn't seem as willing to play the game as most of the others, and if Val was on the fence about him, Sansa can imagine the producers telling her to cut him, knowing he wouldn't be easy to control.

That's what they like, she knows. Easily controllable contestants, or the ones who create explosive drama. Jon, it seems, is neither. She thinks the only reason he made it to paradise is because of his sudden spike of popularity.

“I'm really excited to... see what comes out of this for me,” is what he ends up saying, and Sansa tries to suppress her smile, just knowing Tyrion is likely fuming. The producers want the contestants to talk about love as much as possible, and Jon isn't giving them what they want.

“Well, here's a date card for your first chance at love here in Paradise,” she says, holding out the envelope to him. “You can ask anyone.”

Jon nods, looks at the envelope, then back up at her, eyes flicking over her briefly. “Would you want to go?” he asks, and for a moment all Sansa can do is stare.

“Me?” she asks, completely dumbfounded.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, giving her another one of his smiles.

To her utter horror, she feels a swirl of butterflies in her stomach.

“Uh,” she looks towards production for help, but Tyrion is watching them intently and hasn't cut. “I'm the host,” she says, turning back to Jon.

“Oh,” Jon's brows furrow a bit. “So... I can't take you on the date?”

“Yeah, that's not really how it works,” she glances over at Tyrion again, who remains silent. “Um, you take the card down to the beach and you talk to the women – or men, whatever you prefer – and see which one of them you'd like to take on a date.” She tries to make her voice light and airy, tries to add a bit of laughter, but she's not sure how well it works.

“You were on the show before, right?” he asks, and she's actually a bit surprised that he doesn't know who she is, considering how much of a mess both her "journeys" had been. He must have gone on the show without ever watching an episode.

“Right,” she nods.

“But I can't ask you,” he says, brows furrowing even deeper. For a second she wonders if he's an idiot, but then she sees the slight quirk to his lips, and she narrows her eyes at him. He's being obtuse on purpose.

“I'm off limits,” she says archly, flicking her hair over her shoulder, and she watches his lips twitch, like he's trying to hold back a smile.

“Okay, I think I've got it now,” Jon nods slowly.

Sansa rolls her eyes at him, and he finally gives her a full grin. It makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, and sends those butterflies in her tummy going again.

“Then you should go on down,” she gestures towards the stairs that lead down to the beach.

He gives her once last look, his eyes raking over her fully, before he heads past her.

Once he's gone, Sansa's knees almost feel like they're about to give out.

It's just the heat, she tells herself, as she heads over to where the cameras are set up.

“Why didn't you jump in?” she asks Tyrion when she reaches them, pulling at the microphone taped to her before Pod even gets there to help her.

Tyrion gives her an appraising look and just shrugs. “That'll make for good TV,” he says, though there's something in his voice Sansa doesn't like. She's been around him enough by now to hear the things he doesn't say, and Tyrion's tone is... well, if she didn't know any better, she'd say he sounds almost giddy.

“Won't it muddle the story?” she frowns, grabbing one of the portable fans from Pod and closing her eyes for a moment as she turns it on her face. “You can't seriously be thinking of airing that. You should be focusing on the actual contestants and whatever romance he finds there.”

Sansa tries to think of the women here and she can't imagine who would even be Jon's type.

Not that she knows what Jon's type is.

She doesn't know Jon at all.

Sansa heads towards the car waiting to take her back to the hotel, and she really does not like the gleam in Tyrion's eye.

…

“And just to be clear,” Jon says, as everyone watches him pick up a rose from the table, “I'm not allowed to give this to you?”

Sansa can feel her face go hot, just like it does every time he flirts with her.

Everyone on the beach knows he tried to ask her on the date when he first arrived, and now it's a thing. The girls are keeping him on, giving him a rose at every elimination ceremony where they have the power, even though he hasn't formed a romantic connection with any of them. They're keeping him around for this – for the moments when Sansa is on set and Jon will, inevitably, ask if he can give her a rose or take her on a date.

There's a few cheers from the contestants, and Sansa turns a glare on them. Her friends, and even the ones she's not all that close with, are really enjoying this.

“That's against the rules,” she tells Jon, just like she has the last two times.

“Right, right,” he nods, which gets a laugh from the others. Then he turns back, holds up the rose, and says, “Missandei?” Missandei tears up as she steps forward. She'd just had her heart stomped on, and Sansa hates how sad she looks. Luckily she's made friends with a lot of the girls, especially Dany, so Sansa knows she at least has a support system here. “I think you deserve another shot at love,” Jon says as she walks over to him. “Will you accept this rose?”

“Thank you,” Missandei sniffs, giving him a watery smile.

Sansa watches and narrates the rest of the ceremony, then says goodbye to those who were eliminated. As they're wrapping up, Jon makes his way over to her.

“You're still alright?” he asks, murmurs it to her as the crew starts to herd the contestants away. But they leave Jon alone, and she knows it's because Tyrion has told them to. In fact, she's fairly certain there's a camera somewhere, trained on them right now. “Just tell me if-”

“It's fine,” she whispers. He had asked, the first time he did this, if his flirting made her uncomfortable. She had stuttered through her response, which ended up being – no. No, it didn't make her uncomfortable. The only thing that does is that they're being filmed, and she swore she'd never do this again in front of cameras.

“Alright,” he nods, eyes searching her face, like he's trying to make sure she isn't lying. “I'll see you next time, then?”

“Good night, Jon,” she says, trying to sound professional. But it's hard when he gives her a soft smile and his gaze drops to her lips, before he finally turns around and heads off with the other contestants.

“Stop filming me,” she scolds Tyrion the moment they're gone.

“What?” Tyrion says, eyes wide and innocent. “We film everything.”

“I told you I don't want to be a contestant,” she huffs. “So stop-” she waves around at the cameras that are now being packed away, now that Jon's gone.

“Seems to me,” Tyrion hums, eyebrows raised, “you could tell him to stop anytime and he would. Then we'd have nothing to film.”

Tyrion spins on his heel and walks away and she stares after him, mouth agape.

…

Sansa groans as she zips up her makeup bag, looking at herself one last time in the mirror before she heads back into the living quarters of her hotel room.

Production had interrupted her very important sipping-margaritas-by-the-pool time to tell her she had to get camera ready. She wasn't supposed to film today, so she has no idea what's going on.

There's a knock at her door and she makes her way over to it, expecting Tyrion to be on the other side.

Instead, it's Jon.

“Hi,” she says, eyes immediately darting around the hall to look for the cameras.

Except there aren't any. At least not that she can see. Just a production assistant waiting a distance away.

“Hey,” he says, giving her that same soft, warm smile. “I just wanted to let you know, I've uh... I've decided to leave.”

“Leave?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I mean, obviously this isn't for me. I've known that since I got here. I should've left earlier, if I'm being honest, but...”

His eyes meet hers, and something swoops low in her belly that she tries to ignore.

“Anyway,” he continues. “I just wanted to um... here.” He hands her a piece of paper and she unfolds it to find- “My number,” he says, as if she couldn't figure that out. “In case you ever wanted to call me. I don't really look at any social media, so if you tried to contact me that way... but yeah. You can call me if you want.”

Her head feels completely empty of words, and all she can do is nod.

He leaves, then, escorted out by the production assistant who had been waiting down the hall, and Sansa slowly closes the door and goes to sit on the couch.

She's not sure how long she sits there, staring blankly into the distance, when a knock comes at the door and she jolts out of her reverie.

It is Tyrion this time, and he gives her a look.

“Did you get the footage you wanted?” she asks, trying to sound annoyed, though she's still reeling. Still clutching that scrap of paper.

“Didn't get any footage,” Tyrion drawls. “Did you see a camera around?”

She hadn't, but they're sneaky sometimes.

“He asked to come up, but said he wouldn't if we followed him with cameras, so-” Tyrion shrugs.

“Why would you agree to that?”

A look passes over Tyrion's face, something she might almost describe as soft. Affectionate. Or, she would, if she didn't know Tyrion better than that.

“I know we're usually all cynics here,” he says, “and hey, maybe the show's finally brainwashed me, but I think you deserve that love story you were looking for.”

Sansa sucks in a breath as Tyrion reaches out and places a hand on her arm, just for a moment, before he lets go and leaves her hotel room.

Still in a daze, she walks back and sits on the couch, before pulling out her phone, and adding his number.

Hi, she types. This is Sansa Stark.

#jonsa #jonsa fic

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ashasmonsters · 2 years

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Hi! If requests are still open, could I get a body-conscious male alien with a caring fem reader? Maybe they serve on a spaceship together? Any rating is fine, lemon would be fun if you’re up for it ^^ thanks!!

It's finally here!! I'm sorry I took so long to get to your request, but I ended up getting carried away, so I hope the extra length sweetens the deal a bit! Personally, I loved the idea of serving on a spaceship with an alien the minute I got the request so I hope you love the result!

Body-Conscious Male!Alien x Caring Fem!Reader - Lemon Content: Straight-up smut, a handjob, brief reference to alien body-shaming

“Wait,” Ghavrul said, leaning over to look at you from the top bunk, “humans don’t gender segregate?”

“I mean… not usually. A long time ago we did, but nowadays it’s only for pretty hardcore reasons. Like monks and stuff.” By the time you were born, the only symbols outside bathrooms and showers were for Humanoid, Insectoid, Polypedal, among others.

“Wow. That’s different. Very different.” Ghavrul’s eye, large and luminescing teal in the dim bunkroom, widened before he used his two right arms to roll onto his back. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a female of my species, anyway.”

“Never?” you asked incredulously. “Seriously, Blueberry; not your mom, or maybe a sister?”

“Especially not my mom and my sisters.”

“You’re going to need to explain that to me,” you said, prompting a sigh from him. “You don’t have to, if…”

“No, it’s fine. It’s nothing, really.” Ghavrul paused, the thin mattress squeaking as he shifted. “My species is very dimorphic: the females look almost nothing like the males. I’m humanoid, big, round, and… well, I’m big and round. The females are thin, stick-like, insectoid, and very sharp. For the first few days after being born, they also try to murder anything they see, including their clutch mate siblings. And because they’re so sharp, they break out of the eggs first and succeed at the murdering part if you’re a male born with a weak carapace.”

“Wow,” you breathed, not sure what to say.

“It’s not like that anymore, of course. We evolved enough to figure that infant murder was bad and learned to separate the eggs by sex before they hatch. I guess the tradition stuck, though, because you really don’t see the opposite sex until it’s time to find a mate. It doesn’t help that because our dimorphism, males and females have such different needs that we couldn’t really cohabitate even if we wanted to.”

“I see… sort of.” You tried to imagine what that would be like. You imagined a baby Ghavrul, prying himself out of an egg with his stubby trios of fingers. What you couldn’t imagine, though, was an armored carapace on him. In your military platoon of engineers, his shape, color, and softness was what earned him the nickname “Blueberry.”

“So does the carapace fall off? Like, do you molt out of it or something?”

“Ah, well…” he hesitated. He shifted again, prompting squeaks from the mattress. “If I was born in the old days, I wouldn’t have survived my clutch-sisters. I’m naturally without a carapace, which is lucky or unlucky depending on who you ask.”

“What if I ask you?”

“Well… it’s lucky that I was born now, rather than in the past. It’s unlucky that I look this way.” He sighed again.

You frowned. “Look what way? You don’t like being called ‘Blueberry?’”

“No, I don’t mind that. I’ve never seen a blueberry, for the record. It’s just that, well… looking different is why I wanted to join the military and get away from home. Also why I’m in the corps of engineers instead of, you know, fighting, like the rest of us.” He went silent, his voice trailing off with a hint of self-loathing.

“Hmph. And I thought you became an engineer because you were smart and good at math,” you retorted.

“You know what I meant.” He chuckled weakly. “The carapace thing matters a lot. On my homeworld, it was like a whole different life. They raise you differently, look at you differently. They educate you for a different way of living.”

“It sounds like you don’t think they should,” you surmised.

“It’s all just tradition. Being carapace-less isn’t the death sentence it used to be.” He paused. “Crap, I don’t know why I explained that to you. Now I’m just going to feel like you’re judging when you look at me.”

“Judging you for what? We’re all used to calling you Blueberry already,” you said, reassuring him. “I hope you’ve noticed that humans also don’t have carapaces. I’ve never known you any differently.”

“Yeah… you’re right. I guess it’s just a hangup of mine, you know? You don’t really unlearn something like that.” You heard him shift in the bunk above before pulling his blanket around himself. “I’m ready to sleep, anyway.”

“Me too.” You flipped your pillow over and got comfortable. The faint humming of the ship lulled you to sleep like it did every lights-out.

Seven hours later, as the lights gradually came to full strength and awoke you and Ghavrul from your slumber, the two of you tumbled out of your beds. After last night’s conversation, you watched him descend from the top bunk trying to imagine him with an armored shell. It was difficult to envision since he’d basically be a four-armed, blue, cyclopean pangolin in jersey shorts and a tank top. Not to mention he was several counts taller and wider than you.

Your current deployment was a lax one. You and your fellow engineers aboard were essentially there to supervise and look after regular wear-and-tear; compared to your last deployment building an entire space station, this was practically paid time off. It was so lax, in fact, that the first four hours of each 24-hour cycle were completely free. Your commanding officer wouldn’t even muster your troop until lunchtime.

“Before you told me, I thought the lack of segregation was just a military thing, not a human thing.” Ghavrul walked alongside you, his strides double the length of yours.

“You’re still fascinated by that?” You chuckled, pretending you could stay in lock-step with him.

“Hey, I only figured that out yesterday. Let me remind you that I have never seen a female of my species on account of the risk of being disemboweled.”

“Fair enough, then,” you relented. You walked alongside him to your destination: the onboard shower facilities and locker room for humanoid crew. The pair of you stepped through the sliding doors to find the shower stalls and lockers deserted as usual. With such a loose schedule, it was unlikely to see anyone until mustered by a commanding officer. Anyone except for Ghavrul, of course; you two had become fast friends over conversations about the differences in your cultures, and your tendencies to chat meant you usually adhered to the buddy system even when it wasn’t an order. That, and even with his four arms, he usually asked you to wash his back for him.

“I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised. I have trouble telling humans apart sometimes,” he said, opening his locker and tossing his sandals inside.

“Excuse me?” You feigned serious offense before turning to your locker and opening it.

“Hey, all I’ve got to work with is… what, eye color and hair color—which you change sometimes—and height, but you’re all shorter than me anyway.” He chuckled, reaching over his shoulders to remove his tank top, but hesitating. The pause stuck out to you immediately.

“Something wrong?” You asked.

“I… it’s silly.”

“It’s not about the carapace thing, is it?” You asked, causing him to sigh. “Come on, Ghavrul. We’ve seen each other naked more times than I can count. Nothing’s changed about you.”

“It’s a weakness of mine. Maybe not a weakness to you, but a weakness all the same. It’s like OPSEC.”

“It’s not like OPSEC,” you rolled your eyes.

“The point of weakness in a bunker is the same regardless of whether or not the enemy knows about it. It’s still there.”

“Yes, but you’re not a bunker. You’re my comrade—and friend,” you tried to convince him. You were both engineers, but you had to admit that Ghavrul never really turned it off; he saw the world—and himself—as an array of weaknesses and strengths. This was just how he was, but in your months of deployment with him, you had never seen it this severe before.

He sighed again. “Just leave it,” he pleaded, before turning away. Past the lockers were the shower stalls, and past those was the more open shower room you both usually used. Unusually, he opted for one of the stalls.

You agreed to stop trying and instead finished undressing. He did the same but inside the stall. You saw his thick blue hands peek out the top of the stall as he stowed his clothes on the shelf above the showerhead. You walked past and started to shower in silence, which you hadn’t done in a while.

The warmth of the water was always welcome; military bunks were never comfortable enough to prevent knots from forming in your muscles. Even on a top-of-the-line vessel like this one, they still skimped on the bedding.

“Hey, don’t you think—” you paused, about to remark on that, remembering Ghavrul wasn’t next to you like usual. Sighing, you gave up on that train of thought and reached for the soap.

“What?” He asked from his stall, having heard your attempt to chat.

“Oh, nothing… I was just gonna say something about how the ships we serve on get bigger and faster but the beds never get any better.”

He let out a subdued chuckle. “That’s the truth.”

“Just imagine how much worse it would be with a c—” You stopped speaking again, silently cursing yourself. He didn’t want you to bring up the carapace thing, and five seconds later you’re back to it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He sighed, pausing. You could hear his wet footsteps in his shower stall as he turned and stuck his head out the curtain. “I… can’t reach.”

“Your back?”

“My back.” He nodded sheepishly. “I’ll come out.”

“No, actually,” You smiled, “I’ll join you. If that’s alright.”

“There’s only one…”

“I know,” you cut him off.

The realization came over him and made his eye widen. With so many attractive, smart engineers living in close proximity for long deployments, flings happened all the time. This had to happen between you two eventually, right? You figured it was a good time for it; if anything would get him out of his head, it would be this.

“Uh… yeah. Come in.” He pulled the shower curtain aside and you closed the distance, stepping over the threshold and closing the curtain behind you. The stalls had to be generously sized to accommodate the diverse range of species aboard, yet it was still a bit tight as you shared this one with Ghavrul. With mere inches between your bodies and warm water cascading down both of you, you looked up and smiled at him.

“Could you tell me some other things about your anatomy?” You said, reversing your gaze and looking downwards.

“Um… our females lay eggs, so we just sorta…” One of his left hands rubbed the back of his neck, the other left hand wringing his wrist.

“Hmm?”

“…you know, stimulate it. With our hands. Until… external fertilization.”

You chuckled. “You’re great at talking dirty, you know that?”

“I’m an engineer.” The faint beginnings of a grin formed on his face. “Picking up on your sarcasm is all you get.”

You smiled back, then looked down to see what you were working with. Below his large, round tummy and between his tree-trunk thighs was the familiar appendage you had seen so much before. It was similar enough to the human anatomy you knew that frankly, it didn’t really arouse you much in the past. Now, a breath’s distance away in a cramped shower stall, things were a bit different.

“May I?” You said, looking straight at his cock. Though mostly due to his bodily proportions, the fact that its tip nearly reached his knees made for a striking visual.

He cleared his throat. “Um, go ahead.”

You reached forward, resting one hand on his belly and the other at the base of his length. His skin was soft, almost velvety, and as you gently encircled him with your hand, you felt the density and weight of his cock. It was like grabbing your own forearm but soft and spongy in a lovely way. His whole body reacted, tensing up as you did.

“Wow, that’s different,” he gasped, “I figured hands are hands—and I’ve got four—but…”

“It’s different when it’s someone else?”

“…yeah.”

Smiling, you began gently running your hand up and down the length of him, your palm lightly rubbing into his supple skin. His breathing hitched, then became deep and rumbling. You could feel his heartbeat in his cock as it gradually began to stir, coming awake in your hands.

“Oh…” he groaned, reaching up and behind him to grip to top of the stall wall, knuckles whitening.

“Everything okay?”

“More than you know,” he huffed. He had fully hardened by now, and even with your back pressed against the tiles, the end of his cock nearly poked you in the belly.

With both hands, you wrapped around him and firmly started massaging his length, stroking back and forth between you. You leaned forward to reach his base, bringing you close enough to feel his desperate breathing on your neck.

“You know, Blueberry,” you breathed, “Lieutenant Colonel probably wants us at muster soon…”

“Ngh—damn, you’re right,” he groaned again, his hips rolling.

“Mind if I speed things up?”

He nodded. In earnest now, you pumped his cock with your hands, its tip aimed squarely at your middle—not like in the cramped confines it had anywhere else to go. Except… somewhere that could wait. You’d have to be standing up straight at muster, after all.

You worked up a bit of a sweat as you worked his cock with both hands. It was much more involved than touching yourself—and just as fun. Each completed stroke made him rut into your hands, his body acting on its own as your touch melted away the engineer and revealed something more primal. Your heart raced; not only from the physical exertion but also from seeing your soft-spoken, neurotic bunkmate panting and bucking with his trembling length in your hands.

He gasped, trailed by a low groan that rumbled the whole stall. “Close,” he managed through gritted teeth. “There’s—uh—”

“Shh.” You only increased the pace.

“There’s gonna be a lot.” His eye clamped shut. He arched his back, facing the ceiling and rumbling.

“We’re in a shower, Blueberry.” You normally would have added a bit more snark, but it was time to focus. You assumed the head of his cock was more sensitive and shifted your focus there, working the ridge near the end of his shaft. It paid off. His low rumble instantly changed to a higher whine. His hips jerked desperately, and the alien who normally apologized for so much as breathing on you repeatedly jabbed your tummy with the end of his cock.

For a moment, he seemed to freeze; then he ground his cockhead against you. His whines crescendoed. Each urgent thrust came with an eruption of impossibly hot ropes of stickiness. Your hands continued coaxing each one out of him, slowing in time with his breath as he caught it. The smile on your face eventually spread to his; you were happy to help him out in what you both knew was a stressful career.

That, and the fact that alien bodily fluids were always a gamble, and nothing about it was unpleasant. A blessing considering how much of it you were coated in from the waist down.

“I… Wow.” He finally made eye contact again, his large eye half-lidded. His chest still heaved in time with slow, deep breaths. You unhanded him gently, letting his deflating cock return to hanging between his thighs.

“Feel better?”

“Much better.” He smiled back at you thankfully before looking down between you. “Uh… sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“External fertilization is like that,” he muttered sheepishly, a sentence you had never expected to sound even a little bit endearing.

“There’s the engineer coming back,” you joked. “I’ll wash your back and you’ll wash… all of this?” You looked down, the shower’s spray doing little to clean you off.

“Deal.”

#exophilia #monster x reader #monster x human #female reader #male alien x female reader #monster love #monster fic #requests #lemon #ashasmonsters

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