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tealfloyd · 1 year

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THE REVERSED CINDERELLA TALE

“I’m sorry MC, but you can’t go to the ball~”

SUMMARY: NRC decides to host a ball in collaboration with RSA, but our dear prefect is not invited. Yet, the night of the ball, something strange happens… (Everyone + Neige and Che’nya x Fem!Reader)

WARNINGS: None, I believe)?

CONTENT: Ortho's part is platonic. Crowley being an ass, but like, it was unintentional, really. As I said, this is pretty long, mostly because it has every character separately, plus 20+ barbie dress transformation. WORDS: 9K+

A/N: I still feel bad since I lost all the content I had before, but it’s okay, I’m glad I saved everything separately because if I didn’t… I wouldn’t be uploading this in the first place.

Also, if you want to use this as inspiration for sketches, go on! I remembered a certain comment which asked for permission, and I certainly don't mind! Now onto the fic~

Crowley really has the worst timing.

You were just about to drink a vase of water, throat dry because you passed the whole day with the first years. That’s when the door opened, leaving you to almost drop the cup, your reflexes making it possible.

“Crowley! What the hell!?” You whisper yelled, looking at Grim turning in the sofa, far away in his dreamland.

It wasn’t unusual for the kind headmaster to show up with such… Theatrics, but this was certainly a new and unwelcomed entrance.

“I apologise for the sudden intrusion, but there’s has been an incident!” He exclaimed, and you shushed him, leading him to whisper his next sentence. “You see, the ball of Royal Sword Academy and Night Raven College is near its due date…”

Indeed, the ball featuring both of the most prestigious schools in Twisted Wonderland was drawing near; it started as a friendly way to make their students socialize, soon turning into a way to exhibit who had the most graceful gentleman.

“Yeah, and? I thought everything was fine, Che’nya told me this morning that the arrangements were almost done."

“Me and the Royal Sword Academy headmaster have gotten some complaints indicating that we should not allow you or Grim assist to the ball due to your dorm not being an official part of the school." Ah, so that was the reason of the nervous tone. “I would refuse, but the grievances come from certain parents with high status and—"

You interrupted. “Don’t worry Crowley, it’s understandable that you don’t want to make such powerful enemies. Grim on the other hand…” You spared a glance at the sleeping being, already imagining what kind of reaction he would have.

“I appreciate your understanding, yet that’s not what I wanted to discuss."

“Huh?”

“Some of your friends know about this, and I’m afraid they’re… How can I say this…? A little erratic."

You sighed, knowing exactly what the meant by that. “Are you scared of them?”

“Me? Of course not! I’m the headmage! But it would be helpful if you intervened."

“They can’t be that bad, I’ll go talk to them."

Oh, it can be that bad. Not overblot case bad, but it’s much more chaotic than you thought it would be.

You walked towards the dining hall, place where all of them got the news. You felt bad for the other students who had to run away because of the outburst.

Once you enter the hall, there was only a way you can describe the situation: encasing every reaction in a specific group.

First, we have the erratic behaviour, as Crowley mentioned earlier: students who are enraged because you cannot go to the ball. Here we have Ace, Deuce, Riddle, Leona, Floyd, Vil, Epel, Malleus and Sebek. Some are just snappy, such as Leona or Vil, and Riddle is trying to not let the anger overcome him. The rest are tagged as official menaces.

The second is the quiet group, the scariest of them all. Even if you tried, you can’t fathom what their expressions are hiding, exuding an eerie aura that has everyone shivering. The most students of this group are Azul, Jade, Rook, Idia and Lilia, the most dangerous combination to ever exist.

The last but not least group is the one that has every sane person, and the ones that are near sanity. They are so busy trying to control the furious trope that they don’t realise why they’re mad in the first place. Trey, Cater, Ruggie, Jack, Kalim, Jamil, Ortho and Silver are the ones in this category.

You yelled as loud as you could in order to gain their attention, everyone’s head turning when recognising the familiar voice.

“What’s going on here!?”

“MC/Prefect!” They jolted, abruptly stopping dead in their tracks.

“I thought Crowley was exaggerating when he told me that you were, and I quote, erratic, but this is absurd!” You whined in annoyance, not believing the scene in front of you, much less believing the reason behind it.

“Ah, well, this was just, uh…” Ace was trying to find the correct words to not make you angrier, eyes evading yours as you send him a cold glare.

“We were practicing for, uh…!” Deuce’s desperation showed up in order to think of an excuse, and you had enough of it.

“Do you think I’m dumb?” The bitter words came out as venom, not only being directed at the young boy but at everyone, seeing how you shared your discontent look with all of them. “Is this because of the ball?”

There was a brief silence before it was cut off again by Malleus.

“Child of Man, I think that this decision is an act of unfairness towards you," his comment made way to other ones, clearly displeased with the agreement.

“You have done so much for this school!” Kalim blurted out.

“It’s an improper choice after all the effort you’ve put, since this event is for congratulating students for their excelling performances," Jade remarked, slight annoyance in his voice.

Soon, the hall was filled with different arguments, and yet again, you had to yell.

“Guys, I know that it may be unfair, but I’m okay with it; you all could get expelled for doing this!” More than anger, your voice was full of concern, worried because of their impulsive actions.

“Shrimpy, aren’t you upset?” Floyd tilted his head, not comprehending why you weren’t showing any strong emotion at the news.

“Certainly Mademoiselle, you must feel at least the slightest bit offended, don’t you?” Rook asked, also tilting his head.

“What I think about it doesn’t matter, the decision it’s made and there’s nothing else to do other than accept it, and you must do the same," you sighed, all the stress leaving your body with that long exhale. “You shouldn’t make a fuss over this; there will be other events I can participate to."

“And what if there aren’t any ‘other events’?” The abrupt question coming from Leona made you think, and after some seconds you chuckled.

“If that’s the case then I guess I can always make my own," your quick response had everyone gasp in cuteness, some were more dramatic than others cough Cater cough, but the gasp was there.

“My, is this an angel speaking to us?” Lilia said, his teasing tone having you think it was a joke, which it wasn’t.

“Less talk, more work." And with that note, the students were forced to start their cleaning duties, not really minding it since you were there.

While you were picking up some broken pieces of wood, an idea came to your mind, making you do a soft smile as you thought about the outcome.

ONE WEEK LATER

The ball day was here, and everyone was shining in their own lights, their tuxedos matching their distinctive colours as they added some characteristic details to it.

The week after the incident, everything was pretty chill; they reluctantly agreed to leave the topic alone to please you, switching it to their fashion choices or practicing some basic dance moves.

You were greatly surprised when seeing them all before the event, cheering them up as you told them that they looked handsome, making some of the boy’s blush. “I hope you enjoy the ball!”

You bid them goodbye, making sure everyone was out of sight so you could return to Ramshackle, home to the angry creature named Grim.

“How can they not invite the great Grim to their boring party!? That’s unacceptable!” You laughed at his antics, caressing his fur to soothe his ire.

“Should I remind you that I was also excluded?” He let out a cute groan, curling into your lap to comfort himself.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever ya’ say henchman. By the way, why’re ya’ using that dress?” He lazily signalled the simple gown you were wearing, closing his eyes when you reached an icky spot.

“I don’t know, I saw it at Sam’s and decided to buy it, does it look bad?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s just weird you’re using it now…”

Both you and Grim decided to get out of Ramshackle, sitting on the shore of the pond that was near the old building, the quiet and magical atmosphere worth the outing.

Grim’s soft snores were heard in the solitude of the forest, some fireflies appearing to make the scene look like it came straight out of a painting.

“Am I upset?” You asked yourself, quoting the words from last week.

Truthfully, you did care about not being invited to the ball. Your excitement vanished the moment the headmaster started explaining why you couldn’t assist.

You started to wonder if that meant that your efforts were going to be unappreciated, until you remembered that they weren't. The friends you made here made you feel at home, even though most of them were sceptical about befriending you at first, oblivious to the fact that they started to look at you with heart eyes.

You started to sing a lullaby you constantly heard during your childhood, a calm harmony that brought you peace in moments like this, when you were about to cry out of confusion and sadness.

Your voice acted as anaesthesia for the little Grim, humming contently as you gently stood up, holding him like a baby as you started to dance around.

Unbeknown to you, a wandering fairy heard the enchanting lyric; her pointy ears perked up in curiosity as she approached slowly, her small form making it impossible for you to take notice of, too focused in your dancing solo.

The small, fantastic individual started to hum along. Deeming you as a friend, and not a threat, she closed the distance between you both, a giggle leaving her mouth as she sat on your shoulder, surprised when you didn’t saw her.

She stayed silent, lightly grasping the soft material of your dress so she wouldn’t fall, hearing in joy as you continued your lively tune.

Your steps were feather like, slowly spinning while leaving the forest, now strolling through the dark corridors of the academy. It may seem a little eerie seeing it as an outsider, but everything you could think of was the enchanting lyrics, the absence of light not resembling an issue as you resume the melodious piece.

It was a matter of time when you got to the giant ballroom, passing through an open door as you heard a lively composition that matched yours, smiling wider until you collided with someone.

You woke up from your trance, your previously calm state being replaced by worry as you bow to the person in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, it wasn’t my intention to…” You spared a quick glance at the boy’s face, mouth agape when realising who it was, the little fairy hiding as soon as she saw the unknown person. “Neige?”

“Ah! MC, I was looking for you!” Said the young boy, cheeks dusted of a light pink. “I was afraid you didn’t appear, but I’m so happy I found you!”

That woke up Grim, aside from all the chit chatter of the room.

“Nyah!? Henchman, where are we!?” He jumped off your arms, falling nose-first on the marble floor.

“I may have brought us while dancing…” You confessed, ashamed of not noting it sooner. “I’m sorry Neige, but we and Grim have to go before Crowley spots us."

“Not so fast! I want to check the food! With that amount I’m sure they won’t notice one or two dishes missing…” His mischievous smile threw you off guard, sighing at his intentions.

“Grim, come on, we can’t…”

“It would be a pleasure! The banquet is right there!” Said the naive boy, signalling a large table with lots of different dishes.

In less than a second, Grim was already there, filling his mouth with everything his little paws could hold on to.

“Grim!” The frustration was there, but you couldn’t show it, not wanting to make a scene, but you were certain that some students were already glancing your way.

The kind-hearted boy looked at you with pure adoration, trying his best to hide it as he took your hand in his; all while the little fairy, still hidden, tried to think about what she could do to help you.

NEIGE LEBLANCHE

The gown was sky blue, white grading in the top and sleeves with some yellow sparks. Your hair was now short, curled at the ends and portraying a red lace on the top, a cute bow placed on it.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you… Would you like to dance with me?”

“I guess I can, I’m already here, aren’t I?”

Dear, you just made Neige the happiest man alive. The dwarfs were in their way to talk with him, but when they noticed the huge smile that he portrayed, decided to keep their distance so you could have your perfect moment.

That was interrupted when he stopped, pointing at your dress that had changed abruptly. You were surprised, obviously, but there wasn’t a major reaction from you, since you’re in a world of magic after all. Him on the other hand was completely flustered, trying to think of a compliment as he kept dancing.

He’s a good dancer, but his steps resemble those of a child dancing, in a good way obviously, it’s pretty fun and refreshing to waltz with him.

Laughing time was over when a shout was heard, coming from a certain red hair.

“Prefect!?” Yelled the first years, their loud scream attracting even more attention. You just hoped Crowley didn’t hear it; oh, well, he didn’t. But the others surely did.

And now you’re scared because Vil had a questioning look in his face. If he did saw the dance, may the Sevens let you rest in peace.

“Ah, hey guys!” You backed away from Neige, who in response pouted, sad at the loss of contact.

“What are you doing here!?” They asked, a combination of confusion and excitement washing over them.

“I don’t know, I was enjoying my solitude, dancing alone and when I looked up, I was here, dressed like this," you slightly lifted the dress for emphasis, frowning when everyone shut up. “Uh, guys—?”

“Please dance with me!” Most of them screamed at once, having to cover your ears because it was so sudden and very much not appreciated.

And just like a week ago, that led to everyone argue about who should dance with you.

You were about to stop them again, but someone took advantage of the situation, bringing his hands to your waist.

CHE’NYA

The gown was of a light lilac, along with some stripes that were just a few shades apart, white sleeves added to the palette. Your hair was still short, but it changed the style to a light messy pixie cut with some mauve highlights.

“Isn’t this such an entertaining scenario, nya~?”

“I think is more of a dangerous scenario, incredible to think they’re fighting over such a stupid thing.”

Oh, MC, is that what you think of yourself? This is not a stupid thing, dancing with you is enough to make the most ferocious man drop on their knees, mesmerized by your beauty.

And he certainly would do that just by seeing you with a dress matching his attire. While you don’t know why or how this is happening, he’s grinning widely because you look so beautiful, the slightest shade of pink covering his cheeks as he throws some funny comments, lighting up the mood.

Dancing with him is amusing, to say the least, sometimes disappearing his body, leaving you to dance with a floating head.

Ace, the moment breaker, does his thing once again, his loud shrieks rivalling those of Sebek.

“Ah, she’s dancing with the disappearing guy!” They all turned their heads, most of them having a vein about to pop up from the anger.

“It seems that I’m not welcomed, but at least we will be together the next week, goodbye~!” And with that, he disappeared, again.

Remember that scene when Rapunzel was calming Maximus down? That was the exact thing you had to do with the most enraged students, thanking the unwanted dress for acting as a distractor.

“If you care that much about dancing with me, I can dance with all of you, only if you promise that you would not cause more mess; I’m already walking on a thin line just by being here."

Silence. You tapped your foot impatiently at that.

“Promise that you would not cause more mess," it was more of a demand than a request, but it worked when they all repeated your words, humming in approval.

“Great, so who’s the first?”

Quickly realising your mistake, you spoke again before everything reverted to a few minutes ago. “Wait, maybe it would be better to do this by dorm order. Which means that Heartslabyul will go first."

It was then when the troublemakers of said dorm started to dispute over who should dance with you first; Ace proclaimed that he should because he met you first, and Deuce responded by exposing his terrible behaviour towards you the first time you met.

Tired of this, you grabbed Ace’s hand, being the first pick because, well, both Ace and Deuce were right.

ACE TRAPPOLA

The gown was of a cheerful ruby colour, the sleeves were wine and since it was Heartslabyul inspired, had a chess design along with some hearts in the skirt. Your hair was tied in a loose braid, a heart shaped accessory placed in the side.

“Are you that excited to dance with me, Prefect?”

“Deuce was right, you were the first nuisance I met, I thought it was obvious.”

He groaned in embarrassment, recalling the awful treatment he had with you, wishing it would have gone somewhat different.

When he was about to change the subject when your dress changed yet again. You said that that probably was going to happen all night, and that he shouldn’t pay attention to this Barbie style transition.

He definitely doesn’t know what is a Barbie, but he refuses to not pay attention to the dress, teasing you about it, trying to make you blush. That’s where the tables turned and you teased him, making him blush. Great, you broke Ace.

He dances in a messy manner, but he can be serious when he wants to, so I would say it’s a 50/50 final rating.

Sighing at this, you decided it was time to change partners, leaving his hands so you could grab Deuce’s ones. Expect him to be more annoying, maybe even sending Deuce some threatening glares.

DEUCE SPADE

The gown was navy blue, in its majority, a few hints of cerulean peeking up the skirt, the same chess design with some deuces in the corset. Your hair had a bun, it was loose but it didn’t look messy, just a few strands of hair that were out, along with a deuce hairpin.

“You… You look beautiful, Prefect."

“Thank you Deuce, you also look handsome, but… Your face is very red."

It’s because he wasn’t prepared for this. Did his mother tell him what to do when dancing with a girl whose dress magically changes every time she changes partners? No, he’s sure she’s not.

As a fun fact, Deuce’s mother sensed something was going on with her son; when Deuce told her what happened, words couldn’t describe how happy she got.

When he does notice the dress, he stays still, not moving for a few seconds until you bring him back to earth, worried about his sudden redness. MC, please, you’re going to kill the poor boy.

His mother tried to teach him how to dance a few times, so he isn’t that inexperienced as one would think, but the problem is that he’s dancing with you, and that makes things complicated.

He doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or sad when you move to continue dancing with Cater. Maybe both, but it’s not like he can’t say something, he still respects his upperclassman even though he wanted to keep dancing with you.

CATER DIAMOND

The gown was of a bright tangerine, a soft shade of red covering the sleeves. A pattern of diamonds was outlined in the corset, subtly placed on it so it wasn’t too flashy. Your hair resembled his, the top part tied back into a ponytail and the rest hanged straight, curling at the ends.

“If I posted this on Magicam, a lot of people will get super jealous of you!”

“As if, I’m pretty average, I don’t know why someone will get jealous of me."

Your kindness, tolerance, intelligence, looks, should he keep going? There’s a ton of reasons people will envy you, and he means that as a good thing, really; in his eyes you’re the most stunning person to ever exist.

And apparently you can change clothes magically, we can add that to the list as well.

His dancing is playful, but he’s fairly skilled, talking about random things while he swiftly moves one feet after the other.

He resists the impulse of taking his phone out and taking selfies non-stop, not wanting to disturb you or weird you out in such a moment, when in reality you’re pretty chill about it. If only he knew about it, he would have had thousands of pictures of you and your dazzling self.

He only does it when it’s time to swap, posing with you as he takes a quick snap, posting it with the hashtags: #ballroomprincess #howjusthow #thebeautyandthebeauty, and so on.

TREY CLOVER

The gown was pine, the dark shade of green matching with Trey’s. It seemed to be more nature-like, clovers all around it. Your hair was asymmetrical, and it barely touched your shoulders, looking a little spiky, yet it still looked stylish.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to come here. Did Grim drag you, perhaps?"

“It’s a long story, but Grim’s the one that made me stay; by the end of the night there will probably be no food left to eat though."

Which is a shame because he prepared a few desserts, Che’nya suggestion, and he wanted you to try some of them specially to see your sparkling eyes as you took bite after bite. Oh well, it would have to wait until Heartslabyul’s next tea party.

But it seems he’s gotten a new sight, you in a dress that magically changed and it’s now matching with him. He doesn’t ask about it, letting himself enjoy this brief moment with you.

He’s a good dancer, and his tall figure makes him look elegant while he waltzes with you, the atmosphere breaking when you switch to a huffing Riddle.

He sighs, leaving your hand so it would take his dorm leader’s. He starts to wonder how he can pass more time with you, maybe a baking date session would make you accept.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

The gown is scarlet and white, hints of black but mostly to softly outline the roses and the hearts placed on it, looking fairly fancier than the other ones, like his dorm uniform. Your hair was in a bun, velvety like for the little crown that was on top to stay still.

“I… I’m surprised to see you here, Prefect."

“I was surprised as well, but you get accustomed to it… Ah, Riddle, are you alright?”

He can’t control the blush that creeps up his face. He nods, wanting to look at you in the eyes, yet he can’t help but feeling flustered when you tilt your head in confusion, trying to make eye contact.

Sevens, his mother would be so disappointed at this, what would she say if she found her son wasn’t following proper ball manners? And then he remembers that his mother isn’t there, only you, knowing that you didn’t really care about those in the first place, and he doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or frustrated.

When he sees the dress, he stops dancing for a few moments before continuing, finding the explanation weirder than the dress itself. But he has a limited amount of time and he prefers spending it dancing than trying to find the reasoning of this; even he’s surprised by this thought too.

As said before, his mother taught him how to waltz, so he has experience doing it. Now when it comes to the part of actually dancing… He needs to polish it a little, but the knowledge is there.

Speaking of which, he knows it’s over when you have to shift partners, Leona being the next one. His snarky grin he sends at him is almost enough for him to explode, Trey noticing this and immediately trying to calm him down. Perhaps he can include some ball elements to some of his tea parties, definitely not to spend those with you, no no yes.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

The gown is of a sand colour, golden details all over it to make it look like it was a royal dress; a satin, brown scarf placed elegantly on your arms. A braided chignon hairstyle made it easier to carry a golden tiara on it.

“You really like being in trouble, huh? I didn’t think you would sneak here, herbivore."

“I like to think that since I come here, I’ve became a Jack in the Box full of surprises, don’t you agree?”

Sure you are, not only you sneaked in here, but you also sneaked your way into your heart. He’s not stupid, and he won’t say you are, but what he can say it’s that you are pretty dense. Well, in your defence, you do know he treats women differently, so how are you supposed to guess the fondness he shows at you?

This is one of the few, rare moments where you get to see a shocked Leona, his eyes widening at remodelling of your dress, tail swinging in glee. You really are a box full of surprises, aren’t you? He doesn’t know what he should say, choosing to stay quiet, enjoying the calmness that you made him feel.

He would never say out loud though. At least, not now.

He has a royal background, so it makes sense that he knows at least the slightest bit of dancing manners, and he shows that while waltzing with you.

The moment doesn’t last long as you start to back up from him in a strange manner, and his eyes soon found out the reason why. He growls at this, that hyena is going to pay it off for the next days. Either way, he would have done it even if he didn’t intervene.

RUGGIE BUCCHI

The gown is of a dark fawn, blonde highlights in the neckline. Compared to Leona’s, this was more wild-like, giving a light, rustic impression. Your hair had a back Dutch braid, the mid-length complementing the whole look.

“Hey, Prefect, didn’t expect to see you here. And to imagine that everyone made a fuss 'bout this, shi shi shi~”

“Yeah, I think everybody thinks the same here. There wasn’t really need for you to use your unique magic, I think Leona got mad at it."

Effectively, he got mad at it and because he stole you. Fair enough, he thinks he can endure a few days of Leona’s working, that meant he got to see you more than him since he would be running his errands.

When he saw the dress, oh boy, man was trying so hard to not blush. The only way to prevent that was by teasing you; just make sure to don’t tease him back, he doesn’t think he can’t handle it.

He knows how to dance, so he’s pretty fluent when waltzing with you, making some accidental mistakes so you would step closer to him. That backfires when you cheekily laugh, and the blush he tried to contain creeped up his face.

Just when he thought you were going to see it, you released him, and he was left holding nothing as you giggled at this reaction, now dancing with his underclassman. He frowned but didn’t want to make you mad by using the same tactic, so he let it be.

JACK HOWL

The gown was pearl, similar to the one you were using earlier except that this one was fancier. The skirt had some light golden designs, a few hints of black on it to contrast. Your hair was tied in a classy ponytail, fluffy and shiny, much like his fur when he’s in his wolf form.

“You could get in trouble for being here, don’t you know that?”

“I’m sorry, do you want me to go?”

Short answer, no. Long answer, he’s very happy that you’re here, literally everyone can tell just by looking at his tail, wagging uncontrollably. If you try to say something about it, he will deny it, even though it’s still wagging.

He can’t dance that well, but he’s trying, and that’s what counts. Besides, it’s not that noticeable, maybe a few stomps on your feet but nothing too serious.

This dress causes him to leave a quiet gasp, mouth agape for a few seconds until his mind tells him that he should ask you why and what was that transformation. You respond sincerely, telling him that you don’t know and that he should just ignore it.

Like hell he’ll be ignoring this, it’s not something you can so easily ignore, but for the sake of his dignity, he will try. Keyword try, begging that you don’t start to ask questions about his state.

Apparently, you heard his pleads, muttering a little ‘goodbye’ as you now danced with Octavinelle’s sly, but nervous, octopus. He sighs, he didn’t mean it like this, but it was something that was meant to happen soon or later. More soon than later.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

The gown was of a greyish cloud colour, platinum adornments on it that make it look elegant, even though it seemed to approach more of a softer side. A waterfall braid embellishing the 'marine' style look.

“My, if it isn’t the Prefect. I’m greatly surprised to see you here, and I also see you’ve made some major changes in your attire."

“Those aren’t intentional. I swear I don’t know where they’re coming from, but they’re nice, I think."

Nice? That’s how you would describe them? Your sole being is enough for him to lose his businessman composure, and now you do this, this… How did you call it? Barbie transition? No, he wasn’t hearing the conversation you had with Ace, what are you implying?

He’s already having a hard time to not let his façade break down, afraid that you may not like him if he showed any weakness, and that’s when he saw the dress, now matching his outfit. Although he still is smiling, what gives him away is the huge blush and his subtle coughing, trying to convince himself that he can still talk to you normally, like every other day.

Until he remembers that you don’t usually talk while waltzing, and that is enough for him to sigh in relief, now focusing in not stepping over your feet because of his nervousness.

He knows how to dance, it’s just because of the nerves and the feeling of your curious eyes staring up at him.

A tall figure places himself next to him, and he doesn’t need to look up to know who is, slightly refusing to let you go. Yet he knows that it would not end well for him; the mischievous eel would definitely use this as teasing material. He figures he can make a dance night in the Lounge, only you and him.

JADE LEECH

The gown was teal, and it seemed to be made of a shiny material, some purple laces tied on it as it had a tight and long bow on the left side. You portrayed a half up left side braid, clearly resembling his long streak of dark-grey hair framing his left side.

“You look marvellous tonight, Prefect; may it be because of your presence or your magical dress?”

“Very funny. Obviously, it’s the dress. The one that I didn’t know had magical properties when I bought it, but thanks for noting my presence."

Wrong. The dress certainly was a boost to your natural charming nature, but saying that was the only cause of your fascinating self would be an understatement, after all, the main thing Jade and Floyd finds fascination in is how interesting is the person in question, and for him to have romantic feelings for you? With that you can already imagine what he thinks of you.

He waits for the moment your dress changes, and when it does he leaves an amused chuckle. But surprisingly enough, he doesn’t say anything about it, rather enjoying your reactions at it and your comforting company.

He excels at dancing, even making it more difficult for you to keep the pace, and yet again an entertained noise leaves his mouth. He slows down a little, not wanting to exhaust you, as your next partner would be his energetic twin.

Speaking of the devil, he can’t wait for much longer, whining to you both that he wants to dance with you. He leaves no room for complaints, and so you are separated from Jade, who finds this situation more than lively. If Azul ever decides to tell him about his idea of the dance night in the Lounge, he would be more than delighted to share some of his suggestions.

FLOYD LEECH

This gown was the twin of Jade's, also teal and shiny, the purple bow now sided on the right, now messier and easy looking. Your hair is, again, in a half up right-side braid. Similar to the concept of the dark-grey streak of hair on his right side.

“Shrimpy~! Why didn’t you tell me that you were here? We could have passed more time together~!”

“Sorry Floyd, my mind was a bit of a mess before I got here. But I’m here now, doesn’t that make you happy?”

He lets out a cute: "yay~!" And you are wondering how someone can be so adorable and so frightening at the same time, as his pout quickly disappeared after your kind-hearted question.

He has the same train thought that his brother, and waits for your dress to change. He’s a little disappointed when he sees it at first, I mean, doesn’t it look the same? Until he notices those small details that allure to his right side highlight, and his smile widens so much you can even see his back teeth.

His Shrimpy surely knows how to make him happy! How is he supposed to stop smiling so widely when you can become more interesting by the second? Be warned, this man wouldn’t let you in peace after this, but that applies to almost everything that you do, because for him everything you do can be interesting. Even if they’re not, he would make them interesting just by joining you.

His dancing is… Different. It’s not ballroom dance, that’s for sure, but why should he follow such boring rules when he can have fun spinning you? And you agree to some level, but your stomach doesn’t.

He pouts when you try to change, expressively refusing to let you go. He only agrees to when you say you would pass more time with him after, most likely hovering over you the rest of the night. A true Octavinelle student.

KALIM AL ASIM

The gown was of a really light and shiny yellow, almost looking like it was made of gold, softly transitioning to a silver white in the sleeves and neckline. Your hair had a braided crown, a turban like his slightly covering it.

“I’m glad you’re here Prefect! I was going to throw a ball for you since I thought you would miss this one!”

“There’s no need for that Kalim, but I appreciate the gesture. You’re very sweet."

You think he’s sweet?

Now nothing is stopping him now from actually throwing a ball in your honour. He usually doesn’t think much when it comes to give you gifts and hosting parties for you, no selfish intention behind it, but if this makes you say that he’s sweet again? He doesn’t have any second thoughts about it, much to Jamil’s annoyance.

When he sees the dress he exclaims a loud ‘wow’, like really loud, he even stops dancing for a couple of seconds because of the initial shock. He didn’t know you could do this, MC, this is awesome! Oh, you didn’t do it? It doesn’t matter, it’s still awesome and nothing can change his mind.

He knows how to dance, and surprisingly, he takes it seriously. His steps are firm, contrasting with his saccharine smile.

He sees Jamil aside, a slight frown as he keeps his gaze locked on the floor, and he decides it’s time to change partners, making you do a twirl and practically throwing you at Jamil’s arm, giving him a thumbs up. He can dance with you later when you come to Scarabia, and by later is tomorrow! He’s just too excited!

JAMIL VIPER

The gown was black, little touches of a flaming red on it, mostly placed on the sleeves to emphasize a fire-like emblem, a golden snake tracing your waist gracefully. A braided bun with a large lock of hair standing on the side of your face, similar to his.

“Aren’t you tired? I’m sure all this dancing is exhausting for you."

“I’m fine, this is better than watching soap operas alone while Grim sleeps. His snores are so loud I can’t enjoy the drama."

Watching what? We all know Jamil isn’t much of a trendy and he doesn’t follow the latest entertainment, so he’s confused when you explain this to him. That doesn’t mean he isn’t intrigued, maybe if he wasn’t so busy he could watch this soap operas with you, only if you want to though; his worst nightmare is making you uncomfortable.

The transition has him even more confused, and he hopes he had his hoodie right now to hide his face in it, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of you because of that stupid cute blush. He asks about it, and he sighs when you told him the story we already know, already expecting something like this, it’s you who we’re talking about after all.

He’s an A+ dancer, and the great thing about dancing with him is that he understands you can’t follow his moves and accustoms to your moves, making you feel at ease and welcomed.

When he spins you, Pomefiore’s house warden takes your hand in his, now taking the position as your current partner. He leaves a bothered noise, awkwardly staring at you and the Magicam star.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

The gown was black, a violet robe placed on it in a similar fashion like Vil's, the most outstanding feature being its length. Your hair had a side French braid up-do, a tilted golden tiara on it.

“It seems that you’ve finally taken my fashion suggestion, potato."

“The answer may disappoint you, Vil, but this is not my doing. Although it’s fancy, it can’t rival yours."

He can’t agree with that; sure, he’s dressed elegantly and his makeup is perfectly done, but that doesn’t mean you’re inferior than him. You’re one of the few people that don’t have the title of potato in his head, even though he has it like a nickname for you, but he sees it as an endearing term and he low-key hopes you see it as well. He never really understood the concept of inner beauty before meeting you, now getting its meaning.

Vil’s a professional actor, so he only shows the slightest hint of surprise when your dress changes. His blush isn’t a noticeable one, and even if it was, he could have just said that it was a new product, knowing you would believe him. He finds your naïve nature confusing; Neige is naïve, and that bothers him, because he’s Neige, but when it comes to you is just… Endearing.

You’ve practiced with him quite a few times, using it as an excuse to see you since he was pretty busy with the clothing arrangement the week prior to the ball, not really expecting to actually dance with you.

You spot the astute hunter behind him; deciding it was time to change, he reluctantly released you, his face betraying as he scoffed at this, softly enough so you wouldn’t hear it.

ROOK HUNT

The gown was of an iris purple, a short, red cape hovering over your shoulders, looking a lot like a hunter's cape, a black neckline completing the Pomefiore’s colour palette. Your hair was wavy, bob styled, matching with Rook's.

“Quelle beauté! Your beauty is nothing I can ever compare, for it is so endearing that my heart flutters at this magnifique sight!”

“Wow, I… I don’t know what to say— Thank you, Rook. That’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve said to me, and I encounter you every single day."

You really think so? Then you should listen to his poetry; dozens of poems dedicated solely to you placed neatly in his drawer, ready for you to read them, or, even better, he can read them to you! He recites them every time he thinks about you, so he knows them by heart.

He’s great at acting, but why should he act when he’s genuinely happy of having you this close? He doesn’t see the appeal in it, he wants you to see how much appreciation he has for you, continuing to spill carefully planned comments, even forgetting about the fact that your dress has just magically transformed. The hovering attention has you stuttering, and he leaves a content sigh at your reaction, basking in your cuteness.

He’s the vice dorm leader of Pomefiore, he knows how to dance, and his gracefulness is something you did expect from him, so there’s no surprises in this part.

He doesn’t put a fight when you have to switch to your next partner, only making a dramatic sight and saying something corny like: "may fate reunite us again." Rook, you’re going to see MC tomorrow, calm down.

EPEL FELMIER

The gown was lavender, an apple red cloak covering your bare shoulders, the interior being of a velvety black. Your hair was tied in a low, twisted ponytail, some golden apple hairpins on the side.

“Ya’ look very pretty… I mean, you look great, Prefect!”

“Thank you Epel, but you know that you don’t have to hide the accent when you’re with me, right?”

He forgets how thoughtful you are, how he doesn’t have to act like the perfect boy Vil wants him to be, and how you don’t think of him as weak just because of his feminine looks. He’s thankful for that— Correction, he’s thankful for you.

He maybe in Pomefiore, but he has no acting skills, backing off you for a few seconds because of the surprise, immediately recovering from it upon seeing your confused expression. He didn’t mean it as a bad reaction, he saw it before, but he still doesn’t know why or how you do this, only to receive the explanation that you aren’t the one changing your dress, jokingly telling him that if you could do that you wouldn’t be broke. Sad facts, MC, sad facts.

He’s an average dancer. He’s had so many, so many classes with Vil graved in his skull, but not on his body, so he constantly looks at his feet and even like that he makes some mistakes, but nothing you can’t correct.

It was hard to switch partners this time, only because Ignihyde’s gloomy dorm leader was hidden in the crowd. When you did spot him, you had to make your best try at making it as smooth as possible, waving Epel goodbye, who in return waved you as well, being too nervous to actually protest.

IDIA SHROUD

The gown was indigo, the dark colour combining both of Ignihyde's characteristic style, adding some sapphire elements so it would look a little more "futuristic". Your hair had a classic half up-do, the volume matching with Idia's flame hair.

“How did you—? Forget it, of course it’s something the main character would do."

“Aww, you think I’m the main character?”

And now his hair is combusting into pink flames. Good job MC.

He can’t believe he actually lived long enough to see you like this, and what’s worse better, you spotted him and wanted to dance with him. Is there some kind of manual for situations like this?

Maybe he should ask in a forum. Wait, is something he can actually ask? There’s a ton of questions and no answers, but those thoughts disappear when seeing you change of dress and hairstyle yet again.

His dancing skills are… Non-existing. This man doesn’t dance. You have to guide him in the entire waltz, and it’s difficult because he’s standing there, officially classifying as a rock.

You see his younger brother besides, and you can’t help but changing with him, wanting to have a bonding moment with the little boy. Idia froze in place, mind racing with thoughts of what could he have done to scare you— Oh, you’re dancing with Ortho, now he’s at ease.

ORTHO SHROUD

This one was a short dress, knee-length; it was lapis, layers of a translucent fabric covering the skirt, looking slightly lighter in colour. Your hair was simpler this time, a short and cute cut with a blue flame hair accessory.

“Hello MC! I’m happy you’re here, and thank you for dancing with my brother. He seems much livelier now!”

“Really? That’s nice to hear. Idia’s not the type to go to these events, so I’m happy if you both are happy!”

He knows about his brother’s crush on you, and honestly speaking, Idia’s the one that has a huge advantage against everyone else: He has a cute brother sorry Leech, you're cute too, but c'mon, he's Ortho who wants him to be happy. I’m sorry everyone, this is the truth.

This was actually pretty fun. His short height made it easier for you if you're tall, sorry, can't relate to dance with him, and although he’s a robot, he can dance fairly well, giggling when you spin him.

He stops and says that it’s time to switch, according to the data he’s recollected during the night, and because a dragon-fae is waiting just behind you.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

The gown was all black, the only other colour it had was a bright green, seen in the hem of the cape and the large lace that was tied in your waist. Your hair had a twisted royal bun, a dark crown over it with some black diamonds, outshining the hairstyle itself.

“You always manage to amuse me, Child of Man. May you join me in this dance?”

“Your old-fashioned talking amuses me too, Tsunotarou, so let me try… It would be a pleasure, noble gentleman."

The giggle that leaves your mouth after saying those words is music to his ears, holding you in such a fragile manner as if you were porcelain. When he does start waltzing, his eyes focus on yours and only yours; being with you like this makes him forget everything else, choosing to rather enjoy your presence and the warmth that it comes with it.

The dress does break his concentration, fixating his gaze on it for a few seconds before his eyes return to his initial position. It’s not that he doesn’t think you don’t look enchanting, you always do, but even if you wore a potato sack to the ball he would still think of you as his goddess. That’s how much he loves you.

He’s an exceptional dancer; he grew up in a royal environment after all, often practicing with his grandmother and Lilia, but he’s willing to slow down for you. And that’s when his mind wanders about dancing with you at night, the moonlight covering your smooth skin as you both dance till your feet hurt and— Where are you?

It seems he let himself out of guard and now you’re dancing with… His overseer. Did— Did Lilia just stole his Child of Man? DID LILIA JUST STOLE HIS CHILD OF MAN—?

He calms down, knowing that making a scene is considered rude, and so the only thing he can do is… Pout. So he’s now a sad and pouting dragon-fae.

LILIA VANROUGE

The gown was of an opaque magenta, the top being black with some leather belts tied on it. Your hairstyle was asymmetrical, mid-length with a resemblance to his own, some of it flipping upwards, looking like small horns.

“It’s endearing to see you here, dear. I was thinking of even bringing you with me~”

“Thank you for not doing it, I don’t think I can endure another flying session…”

That’s a shame, he loves when you cling onto him like your life depends on it, and it low-key does, but there’s nothing to worry about! He would never drop you or let you fall, not even him would joke like that.

He recognizes the type of magic that is causing this, and lo and behold he takes a glimpse at the hidden fairy behind you. He chuckles, not saying a thing to let the show continue, but he’s really intrigued by how you managed to get the attention of such a shy creature, soon remembering that of course it was attracted by you, everyone in this room could say the same.

He’s a good dancer, but he chooses to make it more fun by elevating you a few meters off the floor. You cling onto him, telling him to stop doing that as you slowly tried to reach the marble ground.

When it’s time to change, he spins you dramatically, and you fall right into the arms of the drowsy Diasomnia knight, who woke up at the sudden impact.

SILVER

The gown was white, some simple and silver patterns on it, maybe from a knight's armour. Your hair had a flower braid, specifically a rose, cascading down like a waterfall.

“Prefect…? Are you okay? You look a bit exhausted."

“I’m fine, Silver, sorry to wake you up this way, it wasn’t my intention."

He doesn’t mind if you are the one waking him up, and it’s not like this is the first time it has happened either; your clumsy friends always manage to make you fall, and conveniently for you, he’s there, be it catching you or cushioning your fall, but once again, he doesn’t mind.

If he’s being honest, he didn’t pay attention to the dress nor the hairstyle you were wearing at first, and how it magically transformed every time you changed partners, so this background leads him to make a baffled expression, mostly because he isn’t the greatest at showing emotions. He mutters some compliments, but the echoing walls don’t let you hear what he’s saying, much to his invisible frustration.

He’s a calm dancer, and it’s very much like dancing in a fairy forest, animals surrounding you as you continue to be invested in the harmonious waltz.

But that moment breaks when the last boy complains under his breath, probably because he was the only one that hadn’t had his dance with you, and with an apologetic smile, you go to him. He sighs, trying to stay awake, but failing at the end as his breathing regulates in his sleep.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

The gown was lime, some parts had a darker green and others had subtle white highlights. Your hair was now straight, twirling slightly at the ends, which touched your covered neck.

“I’ll give my all in this dance, human!”

“I know, Sebek. You always give your all in everything you do~”

Are you trying to use the same tactics you’ve used to seduce Lord Malleus? That won’t work, human! He’s not weak to your charming smile and lovely eyes, he must stay alert to guard his master from any threats!

Less to say that is a terrible lie; he’s head over heels for you, but can’t express it, not even when the transformation happens for the last time, the enchanting dress and enticing hairstyle had him in a state of shock for five to ten seconds, and when he snaps out of it he wants aka sort of demands to know what’s the meaning of this. He shuts up after hearing that you also don’t know, feeling bad for all the shouting.

He’s a vigorous dancer. His moves are more energetic compared to the others, but not enough that you grow tired of it.

Since Sebek was the last one you were supposed to dance with, you sigh in relief, maybe you can finally rest and maybe even enjoy the rest of the night-

“Prefect! What is the meaning of this?” Here it comes, the problem you wanted to evade.

"Crowley! Hello! I was just, uh…” You tried to think of an excuse that made sense, even if you knew that everything you said would be a futile attempt to get out of the situation.

“She was making sure everything went perfectly; she helped with the organisation, after all," Azul declared, him and the eels hiding your figure behind theirs.

“It’s our fault she’s here, we insisted she stayed," Riddle added, unconsciously joining the barricade, as well as the other Heartslabyul students.

“I appreciate the worrying, but I explicitly said that she nor Grim could take part in this ball."

“She helped with it, and for her to not be part of it was an act of unfairness," said Malleus, his cold glare sending shivers down the spine of the kind headmaster.

“I understand your position, Mister Draconia. But—“ You went out, standing in front of Crowley.

“Guys, it’s okay, I’ll take Grim and then we would return to Ramshackle." Before they could even start complaining, a different voice joined the conversation.

“My, what is this commotion?” The Royal Sword Academy headmaster: Ambrose the 63rd, asked. “Oh, you must be the prefect I’ve been hearing a lot about, it’s nice to meet you," he presented himself, and you did the same, somewhat intimidated of him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, sir. My name’s MC, and I know I shouldn’t be here, but I assure you I was about to leave—"

“Leave? Who said anything about that?” Your face shifted into a confused expression.

“I was told that some parents had a problem with me and Grim participating of this ball, so that’s why I thought that—"

His amused laugh shut you up, baffled at this action. “Yes, that’s correct, but it would be cruel to send you home after you made all the way here."

“Headmaster! The parents solicited—"

“I know, Crowley. But they’re not here, and this young lady has the right to enjoy the same things as their classmates. There shouldn’t be any problem since this is a private event."

“But I—"

“You heard that MC!? He said you can stay!” Kalim exclaimed, smile widening due to the excitement.

“It seems that's the case." You said, turning around to the man that helped you, bowing before him in gratefulness. “Thank you, Mr. Ambrose”.

“No worries, dear. Now if you let me, I have to talk some important things with your headmaster." Both of them walked away, Crowley’s shocked expression still placed on his face.

It seems that happy endings do exist in the real life, and if you’re wondering where did the little fairy go… Well, she changed your dress again to the initial gown you wore at first, except that it was more of her liking, with huge bows and puffy sleeves.

But the rest, as some say, it’s history.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

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can-i-see-your-passport-please · 5 months

Text

Okay so here's everything I know about TF2. Please no one elaborate on anything I know about, because I think it's so much funnier if I have no context to anything. I have absorbed all of this through Tumblr osmosis

Emesis Blue is an excellent film

Soldier apparently was never an actual soldier, he just loves America and really wanted to kill Nazis (the second one i respect greatly)

Medic would probably give you a lobotomy for fun (i don't think this guy's even a doctor)

Two really old guys are fighting bloody wars over gravel I think and their father is named Grey Mann which was most definitely meant to make Gman enjoyers lose it but to be fair his name could also be Gary Man.

What am I on

Heavy and Medic are apparently gay but idk if this is a fandom seeing two men next to each other and going "gay" thing or a "all but confirmed gay" thing but TVTropes referred to them as "Heterosexual Life Partners" which is very funny

emesis blue is so fucking good oh my godddddd the respawn machine is horrifying just from the concept it turned scout into soup

Scout is half French and loves his mother (who is not french) and does not love his father (spy i think)

Medic presumably died went to hell and told the devil "oh I'm like a cat I have nine souls actually. So I should get to go back to being alive" and it fucking worked??????

THE FUCKING SCENE IN?? IN EMESIS BLUE??? WHERE. WHERE SOLDIER TELLS MEDIC "YOU'RE GONNA MAKE IT OUT" AND MEDIC SAYS "i KNOW" BEFORE HE JUST FUCKING DIES AND HE'S THE PROTAGONIST SO YOU'D EXPECT HIM TO LIVE RIGHT??? AND THEN HE JUST DIES AND DOESN'T APPEAR AGAIN FOR SO SO LONG

Pyro is an any pronouns warrior and it commits great atrocities while also having so much sillyness in his heart. I love her

I think Engineer blowed up his arm. I think

Spy is a cunt and also French. I do not think this I know this. I look at him and I sense his cuntery. It radiates off him. I can feel it.

SOMETHING ABOUT THE LETTER M BEING BRANDED ONTO MEDIC'S FACE BEING A REFERENCE TO THE MOVIE SCOUT WAS WATCHING WHERE THE LETTER M IS USED TO MARK A MURDERER. HE'S LITERALLY MARKED AS A MURDERER BY PYRO. SOMETHING ABOUT THE SCENE WITH DEMOMAN AND DELL'S BAR BEING A REFERENCE TO A SCENE IN THE SHINING WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER IS LITERALLY TALKING TO A GHOST. SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUT'S MOTHER'S HEAD BEING HELD AROUND A CORNER AND DROPPED PARALLELING PYRO'S HEAD BEING HELD AROUND A CORNER AND DROPPED. SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUT'S "IF THEY EVER HIT YOU WITH SOMETHING, YOU HIT BACK TWICE AS HARD" WITH MEDIC SHOOTING SPY TWICE IN THE HEAD AFTER BEING SHOT ONCE IN THE GAME OF RUSSIAN ROULETTE WHY IS EMESIS BLUE SO GOOD

TF2 is in an eternal war with Overwatch for some reason

I was doing a poll a few days ago and the tags psychic blasted me with the information of "by the way people pay like fifty dollars to see medic's tiddies in game." I have gotten varying answers between ninety dollars to three hundred fucking dollars but the constant remains that people will pay Valve comically high amounts of money to see Medic's boobs. What

Scout almost got Earth exploded because he died a virgin???? But then God was like "Okay go back down to earth I'm giving them one last chance to all have sex with you" I'm so confused what does any of this mean none of this makes any sense but it's hilarious

Scout might be legitimately named after Jerma and bears a frightening resemblance to him (though to be fair scout is every white boy in one)

You should watch Emesis Blue it's free on youtube

Demoman's eye is sentient even though he doesn't have it????

I can't decide who's my favorite the white boy the unethical scientist or the silly nonbiney war criminal

Conclusion: What the fuck is team fortress the second one about

#cassie rambles #please don't tell me what it's about it's so much funnier if i am confused forever #tf2 #emesis blue

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wwinterwitch · 1 year

Text

new vows – din djarin x gn!reader

summary: the first time din ever removed his helmet in front of you

pairing: din djarin x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

word count: 2.5k

warnings and tags: fluff and angst + good ending, insecure!din, established relationship, kissing, the helmet's removed, doesn't follow the plot of the show at all (it's just din, reader and grogu being a happy family)

author's note: oof i hate how this turned out but my best friend read it and told me to post it so here we are, i hope it doesn't suck as much as i think it does

a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

navigation | pedro's characters masterlist | star wars masterlist

Din was observing you and Grogu from the entrance of the Razor Crest, arms crossed across his chest as he leaned against one of the walls of the ship. He smiles to himself when he hears the child giggling after you put a flower at the top of his little head, immediately reaching out with some difficulty to grab a flower from the ground and offering it to you.

"Thank you, Grogu. It's very pretty!" you say to the baby, who looked absolutely thrilled to realize you liked his gift.

The kid stands from the ground, lifting both of his arms as a sign that he wants to be carried. Already familiar with the gesture, you quickly lift him up from the ground before laying on your back in the middle of the landscape filled with lilac and light pink flowers. The baby giggles again, holding onto you as you both lay there.

Din's smile fades just enough shortly after that when the inevitable thought pops in his head again. That annoying and sudden thought that always makes an appearance during the day.

At first he didn't mind, finding ways to always push it away before it got to him. However, it's been more and more frequent these past couple of days and it's becoming a bad habit he seems unable to control at this point, and it's starting to really annoy him.

His mind is filled with all these doubts and insecurities. Not only because of the content of what he's thinking, but because it's completely impossible to push it away now. Almost like an avalanche, it falls down the mountain at a rapid, devastating speed and it only seems to get bigger as minutes pass. It destroys everything in its way. In this case, the prime and only victim is Din.

Perhaps the worst part is that it always ruins what should be pleasant moments. If Grogu is looking up at him from the ground begging to be carried, the thought is there. Whenever you wrap your arms around him or grab his hand when the two of you are exploring yet a new planet, it's there. Even when he's trying to sleep right next to you, hearing the faint sounds of the baby already asleep, you can bet that thought will be there to torture him.

Because all of those little moments he shares with his partner and son remind him of the fact that neither of them even know who he is. Sure, they know how he is, but not who.

Every touch is not really a touch, it's just skin brushing against a uniform. Every exchange has a helmet hiding his features. They can hear him laugh, but they don't see his eyes squinting just enough and the smile that adorns his face. They can hear him remind them of his never-ending love for them, but they don't get to look into his eyes as he says it.

And it hurts because his mind has tricked him to believe none of those moments are real. Because they've never seen the man that claims to care for them so much, none of it is genuine. It's just touching a uniform and hearing empty words coming from a helmet. It almost makes him feel like a droid rather than a human, leaving him longing for that real connection.

He knows he probably shouldn't, but he craves that actual contact, which is something he never felt before you two showed up in his life.

Being a Mandalorian and living by their code was easy. He never even considered breaking his vow because nothing and no one was ever worth it. What could possibly be more important than this? That's what he would always ask himself and he wasn't able to come up with an answer– until you and Grogu showed up.

Now that you two are here, it's obvious to him that his priorities have changed. He wants to commit to an entirely new code. To prove his undying fidelity to his family and make a vow to the two of you.

But that brings another set of insecurities that make this entire situation a lot more difficult for him. As much as he needs to truly feel connected to you, he's terrified of what that connection means. It's obvious that in order to obtain that, he needs to take off his uniform. Most precisely, his helmet– which is something he has never done in front of anyone. Ever.

So that's when his mind is yet again filled with negative thoughts. What if you don't like what's under the helmet? What if you already have a picture of him in your head and he disappoints you because he looks nothing like it? What if you suddenly don't love him anymore because he's not what you expected at all? And what if Grogu rejects him too? He couldn't deal with either of you not liking what has been hiding underneath all the Beskar.

That's the complicated mess that's been haunting him for a few weeks. That inner struggle he has tried to keep hidden from the two of you. Should the helmet stay on despite being an obstacle to reach the depths of connection he needs to have with his family, or should he remove it and risk rejection? Is it better to settle or search for more?

He feels pathetic. The supposedly fearless bounty hunter is terrified of even thinking about taking a risk. Going on adventures used to be a lifestyle. Now, the mere idea of it is enough to fill his mind with self-doubt, making it almost impossible for him to make a decision.

He thought about it later that day when the three of you were already inside the Razor Crest and getting ready to go to bed, really considering his options and trying to create different outcomes to this hypothetical conversation that kept playing inside his head.

You were telling Grogu a bedtime story when Din joined the two of you. He sat on the bed and listened to you speak as he watched the baby, who was struggling to keep his eyes open at that point, holding onto the little blanket covering his body.

By the time the story was over, Grogu was already completely asleep. You carefully brushed his face with your pointer finger in an affectionate manner, smiling down at him before focusing on Din.

"Ready to go to bed?" you asked.

"You'll tell me a bedtime story too?"

The comment made you laugh. "I think you're a little old for bedtime stories."

"Ouch. I'm not old."

"I said a little old," you quickly correct, putting both of your hands on his shoulders. He quickly lifted a hand that was resting on your hip a few seconds later. "Not the same as just old."

You smile down at him as he gently caresses you from your hip all the way down your thigh before his gloved fingers trails back up. Your smile inevitably takes him to the dark corners of his mind again because he knows you won't be able to see him smiling back at you.

His next words came out very impulsively. "Can we talk?"

Evidently, you were a little concerned after hearing that given the tone he used. "Is there something wrong?"

"I've just been thinking a lot lately...there's something that's been bothering me and it won't leave my head."

"Okay..." you said, trying to be receptive to what he was saying but still having no idea of what's going on.

"Neither of you know what I look like," he decides to simply confess. Why would he try to over explain something that is actually quite easy to say? "And I've never...you know, actually touched you," he adds, his helmet titling towards his hand still resting on your hip, hinting at the glove covering it.

"I mean, yes...but that's because you're a Mandalorian. It's what your people do, right?"

Din nods after your words. "It's part of our code, but...I don't know. It's been bothering me because lately this entire uniform feels like an obstacle. I still feel like it's a part of me but...it also stands in between us."

"I've told you how I feel about the suit," you quickly say in a soft, reassuring voice. "I don't mind it one bit."

"I know, I know. This isn't because of something you did or said," Din explains. "I guess my priorities have changed."

"You mean...?"

"I mean, I care more about connecting with you than with my traditions. I've started to question things I never took a second to consider before you and Grogu showed up. I want to be able to touch you– really touch you. And I want to look at you and talk to you. Not through a visor and a modulator," he further explains, feeling like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. "I don't need to be a Mandalorian when I'm with you two. I just need to be Din."

"Oh, darling," you start affectionately, feeling so incredibly in love with the man sitting in front of you. "Whatever it is that you want and need, I'll support you no matter what. Helmet or no helmet, you're still the guy I fell in love with."

"Really?" he asks with evident worry.

"Of course," you immediately reassure him.

"I guess it took me too long to talk about this because...well, I didn't know if you'd like what's underneath the uniform."

"Din," you call in a very serious voice, hoping that'll hint just how much you mean your next words. "I love you so much. I love you because you're the kindest man I've ever met. You're loyal, passionate, brave...and you care so much about me and Grogu. I could stay here and mention a trillion things about you that make me fall in love with you every single day. You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with and nothing in this world is ever going to change what I feel."

He was quiet for what felt like forever, simply staring up at you while you held the helmet in between your hands so you could stare directly at his visor where his eyes should be.

"You can't see it but I'm smiling, by the way. This is a good silence," he offers, which immediately makes you laugh.

"Is it okay if I take it off and see that smile for myself?"

He hesitated before answering. "Are you sure you won't change your mind?"

"I promise I won't change my mind."

There was another pause before he finally answered. "Okay..."

You start to remove his helmet in a gentle, slow manner. If he wanted to stop you, he could at any second. You really didn't want to rush it because you still wanted to give him a chance to back down if he wanted to.

The fact that he wears the helmet all day in front of you has never been an issue. You fell in love with the person he is, whatever he looks like couldn't possibly matter any less to you. That love is not going anywhere. Ever.

It looks like Din is confident in his decision because he doesn't stop you at any point. He continues to keep one of his hands attached to your hip and the other rests on his lap for a few seconds until he uses it to help you completely remove his helmet.

Still holding it with both of your hands, you look down to admire his face. You can tell by his expression that he's terrified as he stares back at you, impatient for any hint of rejection. He was still expecting to see the disappointment all across your features before you take a step back from him and reveal he's nothing like what you expected.

But that disappointment never appeared. Instead, he's relieved to see the smile forming on your face before you leave the helmet next to him on the bed, immediately reaching out to grab his face.

Din practically melts under your touch, closing his eyes and focusing on just how good it feels to have your skin touching him for the very first time. The way your soft fingers trace his cheeks before they move down to his jaw...it feels like absolute heaven.

And you take your time with that. Your digits explote his features as if contemplating them wasn't enough. You needed to touch every inch of his face in order to truly appreciate what's in front of you.

The most beautiful sight ever. The man you love so much, looking even more handsome than you could've ever predicted. From his soft brown eyes to the hint of a beard, he's so perfect you can't believe you're seriously this lucky.

"So?" he dares to ask. Hearing his voice without the modulator for the very first time almost made you feel goosebumps all over your body. How is this man so pretty?

You could've just said that. You could've stood there and told him over and over how pretty he is, but it didn't feel like it was enough. No words would ever begin to explain the admiration you have for this man, even before you knew what he looked like.

After feeling his skin for the very first time, you could only crave more. It was probably that inefficiency of words and the need for more contact that made you lean down and kiss him for the very first time.

He kissed you back instantly, the grip on your hip tightening just enough as he completely gave in to you.

It was evident you were his first kiss, but that detail couldn't be any more insignificant right now. His lack of experience didn't bother you. All you could think about is how lucky and happy you are to have him as your partner.

The kiss lasted for a few more seconds before you pulled away, failing to hide your smile when you saw his face. It was evident he was already missing the way your lips feel against his.

You stare at him again for a bit, caressing his flushed cheeks, before you finally decide to speak. "Does that answer your question?" Din was still too lost in his thoughts to reply out loud, so he simply nodded. His reaction after your first kiss made you giggle, and you swore right there that you've never felt happier in your life. "Good. I'd like to kiss you again if that's okay."

Another nod, this time looking more desperate, was all you needed to kiss him again. You got more comfortable as you sat on his lap, knowing you'll be there kissing him for a bit, feeling his arms wrap around your lower back to keep you close as soon as you sat down.

And as he holds you in his arms, he knows he made the right choice, silently vowing to be yours for as long as you allow him to.

#din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fic #din djarin #the mandalorian x gn!reader #the mandalorian x reader #star wars x reader #mandalorian fic #pedro pascal characters

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jointherebellion215 · 1 month

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Worth

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.

Word Count: 3.0k

Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff

A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)

Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!

A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.

“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.

You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone.

You, of course, said yes.

Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.

“Good evening, Major!”

You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.

“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”

“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.

“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.

“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.

“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”

“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.

You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.

“What? I was just trying to..!”

The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Your friends seem nice.”

Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes.

“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.”

You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond.

“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word.

You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.

“You look beautiful.”

Another pause. “What?”

“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”

Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.

“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.

John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his.

You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.

✨

“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”

The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.

He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.

Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.

You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.

Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”

You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?”

Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.”

“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.

“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.

“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”

You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food.

By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption.

Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.

“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!”

You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing.

Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”

You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.

The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.

Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.

John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.

“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”

You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.

“No, no problem at all.”

Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”

You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind.

“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”

You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.

“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”

You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap.

“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”

The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.

“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”

The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.

“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”

Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.

Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.

As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,

“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”

You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.

“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”

You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.

“Sorry if I ruined the night.”

You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”

“Yep.”

“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”

His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”

“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”

“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.

“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”

Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.

“My lady.”

You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves.

He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends.

The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.

“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.”

You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly.

“Really?”

You continue to sway.

“Yeah.”

You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”

He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.

“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.”

The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.

“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”

You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.

He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.

“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”

He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you.

“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”

You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.

“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.”

He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.

So, you close your eyes and take the leap.

Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.

A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.

After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted.

Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.

Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.

“You are most definitely worth it.”

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the-cookie-of-doom · 22 days

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Cookie's Fic Recs

I feel like no one really does rec lists anymore! But last night I was feeling and sappy and mushy and decide to put together my own little list of fics I love. These are in no particular order, and they don't follow any real theme/tropes other than I dearly love them all, and you should definitely give them a read!

*I tried to tag everyone I could find a blog for, but if I missed anyone, please let me know I can tag them!

The Instinctual Gravitation Towards Warmth by kimkhimhant (@kimkhimhant)

This is my comfort fic. No joke, this is what I read when I want to die. It’s angsty as all hell, it’s made me cry, but it is so indescribably good. Kim is an addict going through recovery, finding love and family along the way. He hits rock bottom—arguably multiple times—but always claws his way back, always with the support of the people that love him. It’s such a beautifully written and cathartic story, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it. But it’s almost certainly the fic I’ve reread the most.

Error in the Code by BlackwaterVial (@blackwatervial)

Sneaking this VegasPete onto my otherwise KimChay list bc it altered me. I think most people already know what it is, but jic: it’s a sci-fi/cyberpunk/android AU, and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever read. I go feral for androids and this fic delivers in all the best ways. The world building alone makes me weep. But all of the characters interactions, the way we get such an in depth feel for everyone despite the limited PoV, and the most satisfying take I’ve seen on android artificial intelligence ever—I can’t recommend this story enough.

Idiots & Idioms by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical. This one is actually a series, and it's genuinely so much fun to read. For the most part it's a SocMed fic with Chay taking over Wik's twitter and making it everyone's problem, and it's fkn hysterical.

Silver for Truth by snickerdoodlles (@snickerdoodlles)

This fic is the Kim & Khun vs. Tawan team-up we deserve. Kim is a ruthless, demented bitch, that's too cool to beat Tawan to death bc what if he messes up his wrists right before a show?? Big, get 'im. Kim is the feral-est cat ever, leaving behind evidence and bodies for Kinn bc saying "hey bro, I still love you/look out for you" is too much emotion for him. The fic is also from Tawan's PoV which also makes it the funniest thing ever, for reason that I won't spoil <3

The Wiked Lies We Live by shubaka (@shubaka)

Oh my god, this fic. Canon divergence (technically??) where most things happen as normal... except KimChay have been bodyswaped at the start of it. The little twists Shu puts on the events of canon, given it isn't the correct characters experiencing them (such as Big being very confused about why Kim is suddenly nice to him??) are so much fun.

A Portrait of Affection by froginthesun (@froginthesun)

Kim is an artist and Chay is the part time nude model he hires. ‘Nuff said right there, except no it isn’t, this fic is beautiful. Kim’s frustration with his craft is palpable, and so is the way he rediscovers his passion through Chay. The writing is wonderfully detailed, every chapter felt like walking through a museum. And tension slowly building between them—unf.

Sunshine in My Closet by moneskin

This is an A/B/O AU that is so satisfying to read. Typical hilarious boundary violations (Chay stealing Kim’s clothes, a bewildered Kim handing over a freshly worn outfit, having barely any idea who this strange kid is) characteristic of the AU, but then the story also delves deeper into more serious topics. Chay has a history of abuse from a past alpha that he has to learn how to navigate with Kim, who is incredibly patient and works hard to make Chay feel safe and loved. Overall a very sweet and comforting read. Seriously, this fic makes me melt.

Your Body Feels Like Disrespect by Blue_Jay (@bluejayfiction)

This fic is so funny because it begins with Kim blurting out, in the middle of an Important Mafia MeetingTM, that he and Chay aren’t having sex, and then wanting to die about it. Followed by Kim’s family trying very hard to both support and terrorize him. It’s hilarious, sexy, and one of my favorite reads when I need a pick me up. (Bless Kinn’s determination to be a Good and Supportive Brother, and Vegas for being the Worst Person Ever.)

In Silent Screams (In Wildest Dreams) by BelladonnaWyck and StratsWrites

This is definitely a darker fic. There’s DubCon, Kim is generally Sketchy, but it’s very hot. And I love explorations of his character where he isn’t just outwardly psychotic and cruel. This fic shows the kind of dark that I think Kim could have been, if you just tilted his character a little to the left. He still seems very much the way he is in canon, but he’s also… a lot more calculating and cold, sometimes. I love it.

Forget-me-always by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

I cannot sing the praises of this fic enough. I think it’s probably tied for IGTW for my most-read fics. I’ve probably read this one more often in reality, but only bc it’s shorter. But oh my god, does it hurt. Kim gets struck with amnesia post-break up, does a little light stalking, and gets Chay to help him learn/remember who he is. In the process realizes that wow his life sucks, and there’s no way he wants to go back to it. Especially if he’s the kind of person that hurt Chay. He would rather start over. (Ofc, he doesn’t get to). This fic makes me cry, it’s so good

Coffeehouse Play by AirgodSLV

This is a canon divergence AU that I adore. The KimChay characterization is on point. I love that despite everything going on around them, they also get to be two boys that hang out and play videogames and try to shove each other off the couch while Porsche makes dinner. Given the age difference it’s so easy to make Kim Older and MatureTM, but he’s still a kid, and this story never once forgets that. It felt so honest and true to his character that Kim does have a lot of plans, and he’s very smart, but he’s also still so young, and sometimes shit just goes wrong.

Want and Need by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

God, this fic. T h i s f i c. Post-canon Chay goes to therapy and becomes a camboy (in that order) and it’s delicious. Watching the steady breakdown of his and Porsche’s relationship is so satisfying. Everything one of them does to make things worse feels awful, but is so in character that it’s hard to be mad at them for their decisions. Kim readily giving up control if it means he can be with Chay, and Chay getting a crash course in how to dom. All of it is just. So good. This is such a good fic

Your Look, Through This Lens by WildelyDawn (@wildelydawn)

AU where Chay becomes Kim’s photographer. This fic emotionally hobbled me. Just a fair warning. You will cry. But that said, the ending isn’t nearly as sad as the tags would have you believe! At least in my opinion. I think it’s fairly open/hopeful, and beautiful either way. I love the way this fic shows how Kim balances being Wik while also being part of the mafia. And I love how temperamental he is; always hot and cold, while remaining pretty even as far as how he expresses himself. Always very aloof/detached, just out of reach, with Chay never really sure where he stands/what Kim wants. But at the same time the fic happens just before Kim gets a big break, and the subtle ways he shows his excitement and nerves as things start coming together—it’s wonderful.

Love’s a Two-Way Dream by giraffeter (@giraffeter)

This fic is dark. Kim atticwife’s Chay and it’s not a good time. But!! It’s not just dark for the sake of it; Kim is a genuine sociopath, yes, but it unfolds slowly. You get a sense of creeping dread as he does things that are just a little bit off, until finally the Big Bad Thing happens. At first he seems normal, playing the part of good and respectful boyfriend. But it just goes downhill from there, and I love every word of it. The ending especially is very satisfying.

In the Dark of the Night by bisexualbard (@bisexualbard-writes)

Not to recc everything Bard writes, but… This is a rape recovery fic that I feel handles the subject matter incredibly well. There’s no gratuitous rape scenes, and even with the flashbacks, I don’t remember any of them being incredibly detailed. I think Bard handled the fic with incredible respect and grace. This is another one that’ll make you cry. The way Chay handles his past trauma while trying to have a relationship with Kim is so painfully real. And so is the way Kim wants to help him, but doesn’t really know how. But they figure it out together, and it’s amazing. (Also Kim acquires a stabby child in the form of an OC that I adore.) I just love the path Chay's recovery takes in this fic, it's so visceral and relatable. It's all around just. So good. I love this fic for the same reason I love IGTW and it's because both fics show an excellent depiction of recovery.

Chains and Crowns, A Flower Can Both Make by Sweet_William (@sweet-william-writes)

Incredibly Regency AU. Historical AUs are some of my all time favorites, and this is everything I didn’t know I needed. Sweet_William captures the essence of an Austen-esque style while still making this feel like the KinnPorsche characters. Chay is wonderfully feisty, Kim is delightfully complex, and the various family interactions always had me cackling.

Simple Little Secrets by CorvusCloudburst (@cloudburst-ink)

Chay sees the future when he touches people. Kim thinks he’s either insane, a spy, or a conman. Oh, and Chay’s visions of Kim? Always sex-related. The shenanigans are endless. What more do you need?? They’re both crazy4crazy and it’s my favorite thing ever. Their banter is snappy and fun, the writing is sexy, and it never once gave me second-hand embarrassment despite Chay’s horrible situations.

#cookie speaks #kimchay #kinnporche the series #fic rec #anyway i love all of you #I hope this makes people's days a lil brighter #<3<3<3

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 29 days

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To a Tea 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character: Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don't @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

“He’s here,” Jenna’s warning brings you attention away from siphoning what’s left off the peppermint leaves into the fresh tin.

You glance over without any other directive. He always waits in that same spot. Even if the table’s empty, he doesn’t sit right away. You give you co-worker a look and smile as you put the lid on the tin and slide it out of the way.

You wash your hands thoroughly before you grab the cylinder of disinfecting wipes and sweep around the end of the counter. You step out onto the tea room floor as his eyes find you, expecting you. You’ve adjusted to his ritual, almost compelled to it.

“Hello, Raymond,” you great as you approach the empty table for two where he sits with his back to the wall and his eyes towards the door.

“Miss,” he greets in his way.

He’s a bit uptight. Others might say worse but once you learn his quirks, he’s very human. Even if everything else about him is mysterious.

Sometimes you build stories about him in his head. His glasses, his neatly styled hair, and his combed beard suggest a man with an eye for his appearance. His suits might be better fit to library or a professor’s podium. Not sleek enough for a board room. Then you think he might be a writer of sorts but you’ve never seen him with a laptop or pen and most of the local authors don’t show up without one or the other.

You take out a wipe and take your time in getting every inch of the table. You back up as he removes his jacket and you back out of his way. He sidles around the and sits, shoulders set as he grips the table and straightens it.

Whoever he is, he’s very precise.

“Usual?” You ask with a smile.

He looks at you and reaches to pinch the arm of his glasses. The first time he came in, you remember you could’ve melted at his gaze. So stony and unyielding, you wondered why he was even there. Now, there is an ease to it. He prefers the familiar and you have become that.

“Yes, usual,” he agrees.

You nod and swiftly turn on your heel. You go back behind the counter as Jenna snoops from behind the cookie display. You shake your head at her as you wash your hands a second time. He will certainly note that as well.

You go to steep his cup of English Breakfast as the other woman nears and watches the steaming water at your side.

“Don’t know how you do it. He should just have tea at home.”

“Can’t complain for business,” you shrug.

“Why bother? All that fuss for a cuppa.”

“Maybe he likes the ambience?” You suggest.

“He said the lights give him headaches.”

“Oh?”

“Well, he pays his bill. That’s all I ask for,” you add a teaspoon of milk, measuring it out exactly and you move the tab of the bag to hang to the left of the handle.

“Mm, and he sures asks a lot of you, don’t he?” She crosses her arms.

“Jenna,” you look towards the till where a customer waits.

“Ugh, you’re such a bore,” she chides.

You go back into the tea room and cross to Raymond’s table. You set the cup and saucer before him.

“Enjoy,” you insist.

“Cheers,” he hooks his finger into the handle and turns the cup to an exact angle.

You lean back on your heel and he raises his palm, “do you... have any suggestions?”

“For?” You wonder.

“I thought to try something with my tea today. What do you recommend?”

“Well, were we thinking something savoury or sweet?” You reply breezily, “our cheese scones are delicious, and there is the chives and onion bake. I sneak one every Friday. Erm, there are the white chocolate shortbread on special and I think we’ve sold out of the cherry tarts. Oh, if you’d like a combination, there is the cranberry cheddar scone. I don’t mind it but I hate the crumbles.”

He considers you thoughtfully and crosses his arms. He mills the decision with his lips clamped. His blues eyes narrow behind his lenses.

“Do you have plain shortbread?”

“Of course,” you chime, “two for a pound.”

“Two will do,” he agrees.

You hold your smile and once more set off on your mission. He might be stringent, a bit repressed, but you’ve dealt with worse customers. More demanding, sometimes outrightt rude.

You dip behind the counter and grab a plate. You use the tongs to take two of the shortbread biscuit and place them on a clean plate. You take a napkin with you and once more emerge from behind the displays.

You approach Raymond as he sips his tea. You put the plate and serviette before him. He thanks you and adjusts his tie, letting his hand drift down his vest.

“Is that it, sir? Tea alright?”

“That’s it,” he affirms.

“Great, you know where I’ll be,” you chirp and spin.

You stop before you can bring your foot down as he calls your name. He’s only ever said it once. The first time you met. It’s always ‘miss’.

You turn to face him, “yes?”

“Your apron strings are uneven...” he says. “Just figured... I’d warn you.”

You nearly laugh. What an odd thing to worry about. You reach back behind your waist and feels the lengths. Sure enough, you’ve tied them entirely off kilter. You suppose you don’t pay too much attention to that.

“Thanks for letting me know.”

He nods and examines one of the cookies. Then his eyes flick up and keep you from another retreat, “I could fix it.”

“Oh, er, that’s fine,” you wave him off, “not a big deal.”

“It doesn’t bother you?” He wonders.

“Not really,” you shrug, “does it bother you?”

His brows raise slightly and he taps the cookie, shaking off the crumbs as much as he can. He leans forward and nibbles over the plate, making certain not to litter over the edge. He puts the biscuit down and wipes his fingers on the napkin.

“It does,” he says.

You won’t laugh at him. It would truly be at his expense, it’s just a very unexpected offer. You put your arms straight, “if you want.”

You near and turn your back to him. You sense him leaning forward as you stand stalk straight and watch the tea room. The smell of cinnamon and cloves fills the warm space, the shades giving an orangish hue to the din. There are low tables near the center with pillow seats, and the high tables along the walls. You know all the creaks and cracks better than your own home.

You feel him tug the knot loose and his fingers work agilely to tie a new knot. He lets it hang but just as quickly looses it again. You try not to move as he does it several times before he relents.

“There, ears and tails match,” he declares.

You step away and turn to send him a smile, “thanks.”

He doesn’t say anything, only raises his cup and doffs it in a kind gesture before he sips. You twist away again. You should help Jenna before the rush begins. That’s the only thing about Raymond, he does take up a lot of time.

#raymond smith #dark raymond smith #dark!raymond smith #raymond smith x reader #the gentlemen #drabble #sweet and spicy #au #series #to a tea

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cherubfae · 2 months

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ways they show they love you || vox machina x reader

With Vax, Vex, Keyleth, Percy, Grog, Pike, Scanlan & bonus!! Trinket, the best boii c:

tags: fluff, wholesome, pre-established relationships, crushing/mutual pining

Vax

You need your bow restrung? Here let me do it for you. Oh, you are cold? Take my spare cloak, please, I insist. Lest you catch your death. Vax prefers to have you near his vicinity so he can reach you should something happen. His hand brushes against yours as you pass one another. His chest pressing against your back so he can reach something on the top shelf for you. His nose runs along the column of your throat. A common phrase he said to Vex soon became one he said to you as well. Do not go far from me.

Vex

Offering her hand to help you down a rocky hillside or up the steep slope of a mountain. Instructing Trinket to keep a close eye on you, and as best boi, he does. She gives you soft forehead kisses when you're fast asleep, damn-near chokes when you crack an eye open to smirk smugly up at her. Gives you a bit of the cold shoulder after but it's only because she is so heckin' embarrassed and needs some time to cutely and stubbornly pout.

Keyleth

Did you get enough to eat? Want some more bread or stew? She doesn't mind taking the first watch if you're still tired, the group would benefit from you being well-rested. Huh? No, she definitely wasn't admiring you while you slept, that's insane.

Percy

Subtle touches. His hand at the small of your back or on your waist. He never strays far from your side nor you his. Leaning his head on your shoulder for a quick nap, feeling safe to rest his form against yours. Pressing a quick kiss to your hand when you need to part ways for a bit, it causes everyone else to groan, but he needs to do it. Just in case. No matter what, Percy needs you to know you have his entire heart.

Grog

Picking you up and spinning you around every time he sees you. Always wanting to sit by you at dinner or have his bedroll near yours. Picking you up and out of the way of danger. Carries you and Pike on his back easy-peasy! Excitedly waits for you to wake up every morning, oftentimes he's leaning over your face. You bump heads every time, but Grog still follows this ritual as long as he's awake before you. He hopes you'll do it for him next time!

Pike

Always healing your injuries no matter how minor. She hates seeing you in pain. She tries not to pick favorites when it comes to healing but if you're the closest to her when others on the team are downed, she's gonna pick you first. Pike's gotten better with going for the most-critically injured now! Loves to give big, warm hugs where you two spin each other around. The hugs linger longer when no one else is around. A heartbeat and your lips almost brush, causing her cheeks to light up a bright pink.

Scanlan

Gentle hand-holds lack his former suave flirtatiousness and instead are replaced with nervous, almost shy glances and soft reassurances. Frequent check-ins when you are injured, if there is anything he can do or get for you. Shiny pale blue puppy dog eyes making sure you are always safe. He brings you little wildflowers he collects, always writing new songs he isn't sure that he intends to sing. Buys you little tokens and jewelry that suit your taste as long as he can swing it.

Bonus:

Trinket

Gentle pokes with his cold nose and soft huffs against your cheek, this sweet bear will nuzzle his face into your tummy. Often times plops down beside you in an upright sitting position. You're his favorite after Vex. ♡

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

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angelltheninth · 8 months

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Lovesick Jujutsu Kaisen Characters

Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Nobara, Maki, Gojo, Nanami, Geto x Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, dating, pining, confessions, teasing, gift giving, shopping, quality time, protectiveness, clothes sharing, possessiveness

A/N: I'm really excited for this arc! I heard it's awesome!

Lovesick!Yuuji is the cutest guy he could be. He's all big smiles, falling over his words, acting big and protective and at the same time so soft when you thank him or compliment him. He takes you on a date and doesn't even know it until you kiss him. If he could shout out his happiness he would, he wants everyone to know you're dating. By the next day most of his friends do.

Lovesick!Sukuna would never act in such a way if it's obvious. He will get the scary kind of lovesick, hovering over your shoulder, scaring away everyone else, leaving bites on your skin with beaming pride. There's no way that he would be in love with someone and not mark them as his, it doesn't matter if you know about his feelings, in his mind you're already his.

Lovesick!Megumi pines from a distance, looking at you with puppydog eyes for a good long while before making a very calculated confession. There's no room for error... so of course things go wrong. You don't mind as long you're having a good time with him, and he should really learn to loosen up. Maybe now he finally can, now that he's no longer hiding his feelings for you.

Lovesick!Nobara takes you shopping for clothes just like always. Almost like always. This time she keeps going on and on about how cute you'd look in matching clothes. You definitely have to buy matching shirts, those really big ones. Now that you're a couple she wants to show it in so many ways, and fashion is one of them.

Lovesick!Maki wants to be with you all the time, look at you, hug you, kiss you. So much of practice is spent with her flirting with you, complimenting you and saying what a good team you make. Outside of training she invites you to get food, but then you take it to go and eat it over at hers. Of course you can spend the night too, feel free to take some of her clothes to sleep in. She never lends her clothes to anyone but it looks too good on you for her to say no.

Lovesick!Gojo talks your ear off with compliments. And teasing there is a whole lot of that once he notices how you react to his words. His heart grows a hundred sizes when he makes you blush, it's too good, he has to make it happen as much as possible. It makes him so happy. Except one of his attempts end in your confession. He was hoping for that, now he doesn't have to pretend it's just teasing anymore, and he can kiss you every time he sees you.

Lovesick!Nanami buys you a lot of gifts. He doesn't talk to people unless he really likes them, or pays attention to them, let alone brings gifts to them. At first you think he's messing with you but then you see him smile when you accept his gift. Damn, he's being serious here isn't he? Next time you bring him a gift too and let him know you want to date.

Lovesick!Geto thinks it can't happen to him, that he makes other lovesick and he doesn't even know it's happening. He gradually begins to get more protective, looking forward to seeing your face, spending time with you. Kissing his cheek made his heart flutter... oh... oh no... he's falling for you! No, he's already fallen. In that case there's no turning back, he has to see where this goes and make you fall just as hard, no even harder.

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fallingintoyourlilaceyes · 2 months

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Alicent has got it going on (modern!Alicent x younger!Reader)

synopsis: You go out for a night of fun with your friends, but while you are at the bar, the object of your desire is somewhere entirely else.

warnings: age gap (reader is of age), flirting, dirty talk & smut adjacent, afab reader

word count: 2.1k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Even after countless years of being friends with Helaena, to a point where the two of you would call each other sisters, it still feels weird to just walk into the house that your mom had to drive you to almost every day for years when you were a kid. Times had changed. You grew up and so you could make your own way to the villa and enter through the front door with a key that Helaena had gifted you some years back when the two of you entered college.

Upon entering you hear a voice in the living room which, when further investigating, you find out to be Alicent´s. Currently arguing with someone on the phone. Once she sees you, she holds the phone away from her ear and hangs up.

“Oh, I didn´t see you there.” She greets you with a rare, genuine smile.

"Sorry. I didn't realise you were on a call. I just wanted to say hi." You greet your best friend's mother. You have always found Alicent to be absolutely stunning and so you can´t hide a small blush heating up your cheeks as you give her a small wave.

Alicent turns her full attention towards you at the sound of your voice. She knew you had grown up but hadn’t seen you in quite a while. “Hello, dear. How are you?” Her eyebrows raise, awaiting your answer, not even mentioning the call.

“I've been holding up just fine. How about you? Helaena has told me you're working a lot these days." You give the older woman a small smile in return.

"Yes, dear. It's been non-stop, but that´s business." At her words you remember that she had taken over leading the firm in her husband´s stead only a short while ago when Helaena´s father became too sick to continue to do so indefinitely.

Throughout all this time, she doesn´t take her eyes off you for a single second. Those beautiful, big, brown eyes that seemed to shimmer every time you saw her in spite of or maybe because of the stress she was put under. In the end she wasn´t that much older than you. That thought gets your cheeks to burn a little brighter.

“I hope you remember to take breaks too. The company can be glad to finally be led by someone competent, but it would be a shame to see you work yourself into a burnout or something.” You shuffle your feet on the ground, making her even more aware of your painfully awkward attraction towards her.

"I'm sure I'll be fine. I've become quite used to it. Thank you for your concerns though, dear. That is very sweet.” Alicent says confidently, her tone is filled with pride and she takes your hand to let you feel her gratitude for your expression of concern.

The second the older woman´s skin touches yours, has your brain screaming so loud that you are scared anyone would be able to hear. "You know, if you ever do want a break, you should come out to our bar or something. If you don't think going out with your daughter's friend is weird or something. You would be surprised what an evening out can bring about."

The words let not only her eyes widen and eyebrows shoot up for a second, but your own as well.

Suddenly the air in the room is noticeably thicker. You feel like you don´t get enough of it into your lungs, making your head spin like a carousel and the way the older woman’s hand squeezes yours only throws you off the rails even more.

Before you know it, her hand lets go of yours, not giving any time for disappointment to settle, as they instantly settle on your waist, with her thumbs brushing over your ribs just below the swell of your breasts. In response to her pulling you closer, your hands go to tightly hold her by the waste rubbing tight circles into the soft, by lavish silk covered flesh.

Hesitantly your faces moved closer bit by bit. It felt right to be so close to her, to feel her auburn curls brush against your cheeks and make almost a curtain to shut out the rest of the world. Your noses rub against each other from the proximity and little fireworks tingle over your lips. The moment feels so magical.

The horn of Baela´s car being pressed down continuously, to alert approximately the entire neighbourhood and the muffled screams of the young woman to go along with it pull the two of you back to reality against your will.

“I have to go…” You whisper, basking in the energy of the moment a bit longer. Wishing you could stay there with Alicent for even just one more moment. A wish that is reciprocated by her. You are hyper aware of your hands that rest against her waist to keep her perfect body close when Alicent pulls away from you. And though they have never touched to begin with, your lips chase hers for a second and a whimper leaves your lungs.

"You are perfect." You whisper breathlessly when your eyes flutter back open.

Those moments with Alicent stay in your mind's forefront the entire time you sit beside your friends in the cinema. Thinking about the almost kiss rather than paying attention to whatever movie Helaena and Baela had decided on.

The three of you head to a bar afterwards to meet up with a few more friends. Each of you getting enough drinks to ensure everyone was a good bit more than just lightly buzzed. In your inebriated state you remember you still had Alicent´s number saved from something or another a few months ago. So without thinking you reach into your purse to pull out your phone to send the woman a short message. "I can't get you out of my mind. Your hands felt like pure heaven."

Normally you would have spent the time until the device pinged with a response biting at your nails to relief the nervous energy that would course through your system, but it doesn´t happen. The earlier interaction had made you feel quite confident in the attraction being requited. At the same time, back at the Targaryen-Hightower home Alicent smirked at the message as her body began tingling anew. "I miss touching you. Your body is just so irresistible." She replied, leaning back in her chair as she waited for her phone to vibrate again. If anyone would see her right now, they would probably say she looks like a giddy schoolgirl. And you didn´t look much better. Biting your lip to keep yourself from kicking your feet at the warm giddiness that spread through your body with every answer you received from her.

"Gods, I wish I could be with you right this second so I could taste your skin and worship you just the way you deserve." One of your friends that keeps you company while the others go to get more drinks eyes you suspiciously, but luckily says nothing. Counting myself lucky in that I put my phone away and try to concentrate on the conversation at hand, but feeling it vibrate once more pulls your thoughts right back to Alicent. "And what exactly would this worship entail?" Reads the message, making your mind reel and run wild with everything you wanted to do to her.

"It would entail me kissing all over your body and feeling you all over. Tracing your skin with my tongue up your thighs to your most sensitive spot and then I would spend my time between your thighs until your throat would be sore from screaming my name." You can feel your breath become shallow already even though there was no ending to the evening in sight yet and there was no chance to leave early either, but no matter how much you told yourself to calm down it is to no use. The arousal that pools between your legs and sticks your panties to your core at the thought of the older woman won´t let up. It takes longer for another answer to roll in this time, due to Alicent willing her reddened cheeks and racing heart to calm down in order to think clearly again. Only then she finds an appropriate response to type out and send with lightly trembling fingers. “You sure know how to make me feel things, don’t you?”

Despite willing herself to calm down, Alicent's body became flushed. Her breath hitched at the vivid description, and her body became flooded with a rush of pure heat. She couldn’t believe someone could speak so filthy. Her jaw hung open with a dumb expression as she read the message over and over again.

“It´s only what you deserve. You work so hard; you deserve to feel good every once in a while.” You respond almost instantly. Barely making it in time to hide the screen again as Helaena looks over your shoulder.

“The youth and their phones….” She clicks her tongue but breaks out in a giggle not even a few seconds after. “Who has you smiling like this?”

Judging by the redness spread over all over her face she is far more affected by the alcohol than the rest of you. Then again, she always was the one worst at handling her booze. Conveniently this gave you the perfect topic change.

“Maybe you should drink some water before you get another round.” You snicker at her antics.

“I´m fine, mom.” She chanted exaggeratedly, though even the sentiment can´t ruin her mood.

So, you shrug it of and decide that keeping an eye on her would be all you can do. A smart choice, as the night soon gets cut short, by her getting a little too hyper. Leading to Baela dropping you off at the house, before getting herself back to Driftmark. Bless the seven that the Velaryon stayed sober and thus could help you to basically carry her all the way from the car to her room as to not make a major commotion and wake everyone else up. Unfortunately, it is a whole different story to get her to sleep. A seemingly impossible task throughout which you have to remind yourself how much you loved your best friend repeatedly.

Once Helaena is sound asleep naturally you are wide awake. Tossing, turning and scrolling through your phone in a now much more sober state. Then you remember the texts you had sent to Alicent earlier and with your friend fast asleep, you sneak out of her room and down the hall to Alicent's. Opening and closing the door as quietly as possible, you find the woman splayed out in her bed. Clad in a short, dark green satin nightdress and illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window. The cool light makes her look even more gorgeous than the sunlight earlier, though you thought that wasn't possible. Her breasts rise and fall in deep, even breaths. It´s a sight for the gods. On your tiptoes you make your way over to the bed. Feeling the soft mattress dip underneath your weight, as you lean over her unsuspecting form. For a second you doubt what you are about to do, but when the Hightower woman shifts in her unconscious state to expose her neck more and her soft lips part for a sigh to escape, you´re done for.

Your own lips part and your head lowers to press a wet kiss to her neck. Then another and another as Alicent shifts and writhes beneath, before finally waking up with a gasp of your name.

“Shhh, yes it´s me.” You whisper to her to signal to stay quiet.

She blinks the sleep from her eyes with rapid movements and threads her fingers into your hair. “Don´t stop, please…”

She begs in a breathy, irresistible voice and who were you to deny her. With a brush of the fingers, you put a strand of auburn curls behind her ear, triggering a full body shiver when your nails scrape along the sensitive skin.

“I won´t. I promise.” You vow in return and seal it by sealing her lips with your in the kiss that should have happened hours ago. Followed by so much more that, if titled the best night of your life, would still be an understatement. Having her thighs tremble on the sides of your head as she tried to keep her body away from resting fully on your head, no matter how often you tried to nudge her down by the hips. Satisfied couldn´t even begin to capture the air around you as you lay beside each other, tightly entangled, bathed in the light of the rising sun and on the brink of sleep.

#alicent hightower #sapphic alicent hightower #alicent hotd #alicent x reader #alicent x you #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you

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asumofwords · 9 months

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Thank you all for being so patient for the next chapter, I have had a lot of life things going on in the background and I am utterly exhausted! BUT in saying that, I have written to the VERY END of Smoke, Fire and Ash, and oh boy.... I cannot wait for you all to read it. So updates should be particularly frequent now! Can't thank you enough for all the support and love you have shown me and this fic <3 I don't know what I'm going to do when its done, probably cry in a corner for a while LMAO... Anyway! Enjoy!!!

Chapter 94: Sway

It was difficult to explain the place where you and Aemond were together.

The space that you had both meticulously crafted to house the two of you despite all circumstances. The space that was built on rocky foundations, cracks in the walls hastily filled to preserve the structure, and yet despite this, the two of you continued to place more and more stones upon it. But the beams were bowing under the pressure and weight of the stones you continued to pile on top.

And as you sat in the Library together, the dust of the weeks past settling around the both of you, the pair of you were embarked on a new journey together.

Do you continue to build upon the foundations you already had? With the crumbling being inevitable and looming over the two of you?

Do you start again? Work your way back up to the top, no doubt taking time and patience, which it seemed neither of you had? Ignoring the crumbling structure left behind which shadow would forever more be cast across the new one?

Or do you reinforce the foundation you already had with bricks, and mud, and anything that would stick?

Aemond sat on the chaise opposite you, nose buried in a large tome that he flicked the pages of every so often. One hand on his knee, rubbing a thumb and forefinger together in thought, a nervous habit that he seemed to inherit from his mother, bar the picking of skin.

There was no denying that he had changed.

The man who you saw for the first time in years, before Viserys had passed, was not the man who sat in front of you currently.

The man you saw at Storms End, the man on the night of your wedding, the man the day you were taken to the throne room, was not who sat before you.

Since your confessions, since your anger, and fear and sorrow had bled out of you in a stream of words that you could not stop, Aemond had changed.

He had become more doting towards you, spending most of his time with you, his violet eye almost constantly on you, or a stray hand, elbow or any part of his body would find some way to be in contact with you.

When he performed his duties, the countless hours of reading and writing, he opted to do it more and more within your chambers or the large wooden table of the Library. On occasion you would even join him in his study, where he would attend to meeting with Lords and heads of Houses, never once dismissing you, and allowing you to sit in the background and listen.

But today, he sat and read, and you opposite him, though your eyes trailed over the words on the page, you found that you could not focus upon the story in your hand, eyes straying to look at the man in front of you.

What you had said, was true.

You knew that now.

Everything that you said was straight from your heart. The same heart which bled for the circumstances of your life. For your losses, and for the pain that you endured and would likely continue to do.

It was a daunting thing. To admit to someone who had taken so much from you, to admit to someone who had hurt you so much, that you loved them.

But these small confessions, these small offerings of truth and honesty seemed to pull Aemond closer to you. Even in your bouts of cruelty, even in your anger which boiled over, and the blade of your tongue pointed sharply at him, he still allowed you this anger.

He allowed you to feel it.

“Is it not to your liking?” Aemond commented, eye not straying from the page he was upon.

You cleared your throat, shutting the tome and placing it upon the small table in front of you, “I find I cannot concentrate on anything Law related.” You stood from your seat and moved across the Library floors, Aemond’s eye lifting to watch you as you came closer.

You sat down beside him, your hands in your lap as he took one in his own, the other resting atop the browning page of the tome.

“Will you read to me?” You quietly asked, squeezing his hand back in yours.

The Prince wore green robes today, though they were such a deep green, that if you had not been sitting at his side, you would have mistaken them for a black.

His violet gaze rolled over your face before he dipped his head, returning to his reading.

“It is the duty of the Crown to care for its subjects. Trade upon the Narrow Sea will aid the economy of the realm, and prevent such times in when the vaults become empty. Any gold that is not spent wisely can be counted as a loss to the people and their trade.” His voice was soothing and deep, and he read slowly for you, pronouncing each word with care as he kept his hand in yours, thumb stroking over the skin of your knuckles.

“If in the case a King is in need of the Prince Regent, there may be certain actions that can be taken. A Prince Regent, or in some cases, a Princess Regent, is a Prince or Princess who, due to their position in the line of succession, rules a monarchy as regent in the stead of a monarch. This is always the second in line for the throne, or third if the second is unable. If the heirs of the monarch are too young to rule, incapacitated by illness or ailment, or have been sworn in as a knight of the realm, then the kin of the King may take his place. They shall rule on the throne as the King would, treating with Lords, Small Council meetings, and caring for the state of the realm and its subjects. He or she may be required to settle petty grievances from smaller or lesser Lords, or land rebuttals from common folk. The Prince or Princess Regent may only rule as a result of the sovereign's incapacity, be this illness, injury, state of mind, or their absence from ruling by distance, exile, voyage.”

“Why are you reading this?”

Aemond clicked his tongue, “I need to know what else I am responsible for.”

Your eyebrows creased, “But you have not been named Prince Regent.”

The air around you was static, and the hand in your lap stopped smoothing the skin of your knuckle.

“Despite Aegon not naming me Prince Regent, it is known by the Lords and Small Council that I act as one. It is my duty to treat with the Lords who come to Kings Landing, and know the comings and goings of our small trading fleets.”

You scooted closer to Aemond, resting your head atop his shoulder as you looked down at the old and worn pages.

“My mother had named me her Hand before I wed you.” You told him quietly.

Aemond hummed, pressing a kiss atop your head, “She was wise in doing that.”

“She did not name me her heir.”

“No.”

A gentle quiet wrapped itself around the two of you as you waited for Aemond to continue his reading, eyes having found the line he was up to. The warmth of the fireplace had nothing on the warmth that radiated from your uncles body beside you.

“Lord Corlys Velaryon’s fleet has resumed their trading again.” Aemond informed you, your eyes blinking from the information, “They are no longer anchored around Dragonstone or Driftmark.”

“That is good news. They will need the gold for my mothers Kingdoms.”

Aemond hummed and resumed his reading, thumb starting its ministrations against your knuckles once more.

It was easier like this.

The calm.

The quiet between the two of you.

The bickering and fighting, anger, and rage of the both of you devouring each other had taken its toll. It was as though neither of you wished to disturb the peace you had finally settled into. Unwilling to disturb the dust that had settled after long last.

You watched the log of the fireplace slowly crumble away beneath the flames that ate it, little bursting crackles of fire rising to the top of the hearth and disappearing beneath the chimney. Each time you watched the flames, you thought of your dragon.

How you missed him.

It felt wrong to not be with him, or see him, or ride him. It was as though a part of you had been ripped away from your body. Like a limb that you still felt the phantom sensations of.

Because in truth, you still felt him, at the edges of your bond, angry, irritable, impatient.

Once Aemond had finished reading from the tome, he escorted the both of you back to your chambers where you had a quiet dinner, and an even quieter evening, settling amongst the pillows and sheets in his arms as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next day, Aemond was to be in his study, and had insisted upon you joining him there. Before you left your own chambers, he told you to bring a book from the pile of your favourites with you to spend you day, and had even dared to ask if you wished to have the embroidery loom that Alicent had gotten some maids to deliver to your chambers be brought with you.

You decided upon a book and the loom, and walked beside him to the study, which was in the same wing of the castle the throne room was.

The walk was quick, and soon Aemond was sat behind a large mahogany desk, quill in hand, parchment spread across the table, with three to four tomes open on the desk at varying pages.

You sat in the chair opposite him, where Lords would usually be seated, and watched him as he worked, the loom on your lap, needle and thread pinched between your fingertips.

Deciding that it was best to leave him to his work, you began to attempt to embroider something.

It was not for a lack of trying, it was more to do with a lack of practice or will, and if you were to be honest with yourself, the fact that you were particularly distracted by the man who sat before you, eye narrowed upon the parchment he was writing on, his long fingers wrapped delicately around a quill.

It was the way his fingers held it, the way it moved it, such deep, quick, strokes from fingers that knew you most intimately. From fingers that could bring you to your peak quicker than your own could.

You straightened yourself in your seat, the wood of the chair creaking slightly as you crossed one leg over the other, attempting to alleviate the sudden ache that had settle between your thighs.

Aemond’s violet and sapphire gaze flicked up to yours, watching as you shifted before they dove back down to resume their writing, the needle of your loom pricking the tip of your finger. You hissed, and brought the finger to your lips to suck, leaving the needle and thread to dangle carelessly in your lap.

It was as you were sucking the small bead of blood that leaked from the tip, that you felt the heat of Aemond’s eye.

You looked up at him, so see that the grip on his quill was no longer a delicate one, but had tightened, and the lid of his violet eye, hooded. You sheepishly gave him a smile, dropping your hand back into your lap as you readjusted yourself again.

“What are you writing?”

Aemond’s held your gaze for a beat, his eye boring into your own intensely before he looked back down at the parchment, quill scratching roughly into the paper with more edge than it had done before.

His hand lifted, dipping the quill into the ink pot, “Lord Redwyne of the Arbor has begun trade with your mother and Lord Corlys’ fleet.”

You frowned, “But House Redwyne swore and oath to your brother.”

Aemond’s pink lips pursed, “They did. Though it would seem that gold may be a higher incentive for such loyalties.”

You felt giddy, but kept your face placid, “Sailors need their wine. Do they only trade? If it is only trade, then they have clearly not declared for my mother as their Queen. Gold is gold.”

“Gold is gold.” Aemond hummed, “And we have plenty. I am making offers to give them more than what Rhaenyra has offered.”

“An incentive for loyalties.”

Aemond hummed in agreement.

As you watched him continue to write, you could not help but notice something you had known for some time. Something you had voiced before, but not seen in action until now.

“You are a better fit for the throne than Aegon.”

Aemond’s sharp gaze met yours, and you watched as his eye narrowed upon your form, cheek twitching.

“You already act as King. You make informed, calculated, educated moves.” You opened your mouth again to continue, but the way Aemond was looking at you, told you to stop.

And so you did.

“Apologies.” You said meekly, looking back down at the loom in your lap, picking up the needle and thread that had been forgotten as you move to press it into the material.

“You would be a better fit than Jacaerys.”

A sharp sting settled in your chest, and a weight in your gut. Now you knew what Aemond had felt in that moment. Not a sense of loyalty, or blind rejection.

Bitter resentment.

Because despite it being the truth, despite it being a compliment most assured, it was the reality of it that cut deep.

The chambers were quiet, and you felt your husband staring at you for some time before the scratching of his quill began again. And in no time at all, to fill the space, he began to tell you about the Redwyne House, as though memorised word for word from a tome.

Most likely memorised word for word from a tome, if you knew anything about your husband.

“The seat of House Redwyne is the Arbor. It is an island located off the southwestern-most part of Westeros. One day I will take you there on dragonback. It is beautiful, if not for the heat in the summer. They make the best wine in Westeros, and have been serving it to the Targaryen dynasty for hundreds of years. Though I know you have a taste for spiced Dornish wines, and on occasion the honeyed wine we get from Essos.” Aemond spoke to the pages, your eyes watching his lips as he spoke.

Each word, each piece of knowledge that he revealed to you, only made the insides of your thighs grow wet with your slick. You didn’t know what was happening to you, but the intelligence of your husband was a refreshing change to the idiocy of the rest of the King’s men.

“The Redwynes control the Redwyne fleet, the largest fleet in Westeros, which could rival Lord Corlys’ but they have no thirst or desire for war and fighting. Lord Redwyne has informed us that they have two hundred warships and as much as five times as many mercheant carracks. Not including the wine cogs, trading galleys and whaling ships they have at their disposal.”

You squeezed your thighs together, watching as Aemond moved the full parchment to one side of the desk and picked up another, “They would seem to be a formidable foe if they had the thirst for power. Gold is their power. Much like the Lannister House. Though they are lions, I would say their scratch and bite has been reduced to that of a kitten.”

You body felt as though it was burning up, loom long forgotten in your lap as your squeezed the edges of the wood for grounding. Aemond, not even looking up from his page, must have noticed your predicament.

“Come here.” He mumbled, quill scratching into the parchment, not even looking up at you as he commanded you to him.

You all but jumped from your seat, walking around the table to stand beside him, looking down at him as he continued to write, the parchment and his words far more important than the needs of his wife in that moment.

The One-Eyed Prince shifted to lean back in his chair, opening space for you to crawl into as he dipped the quill into the ink pot again. Gathering your skirts in your hands, you crawled onto his lap and straddled him, facing him as your knees rested upon the large wooden seat beside his hips.

One hand came to hold the meat of your side as you settled your core against him, feeling the hardness of his length beneath you. You inhaled sharply and moved to roll your hips, but Aemond's hand tightened on your hip, and with his other hand, he began to untie his breeches, eye coming to watch your face.

You bit your lip as you waited, hands coming to rest on his shoulders, nails digging into the material of his tunic. The desire that rolled through you multiplied as his hands reached into his pants and pulled out his cock, the tip slightly pink and leaking with arousal.

He held it up for you as you rose on your knees, lining himself up with your dripping core before you slowly slid down on his length. Aemond hummed deeply as you slid down him, feeling his girth stretch you open.

When your hips met his, and the delicious fullness overwhelmed you, you sat for a moment, shifting your knees forward so that he could reach you deeper.

A small mewl fell from your lips, and the hand on your hip tightened. You moved to rise on his length to begin riding him, but Aemond's hand on your hip kept you down on top of him. The Prince leant forward, the shift causing his cock to brush against the spongey spot within.

“Please.” You whined, rutting your hips forward, core fluttering around his cock.

“In a moment. I need to finish my work.” He grunted, picking up his quill to begin writing again.

“Aemond.” You griped, grinding your hips down on him, the hand on your hip bruising your skin.

A puff of air passed Aemond lips, “Sit there, look pretty, and do as you’re told." He grunted, "You be good, and you will get what you want after.”

You grumbled, clenching yourself around him to try and satiate your need and lure him in, which only amplified your want.

“Be still.” He growled, resuming his writing, “Aegon has plans to clear the poverty of Flea Bottom.”

You huffed, trying to keep your hips still as you felt his length throb inside of you, “I don’t want to talk about Aegon right now.”

Aemond, ignoring your complaint, continued, “He has plans to demolish the poorly built shacks in the slums.”

You shifted slightly before giving up, sinking down onto Aemond's length with a huff as you rested your head against his chest, his arm circling around your waist to keep you against him, “But what about the people who live there?” You mumbled against his tunic.

“Exactly. He has no plans for them. Said they’ll ‘find some other hole or dwelling to squeeze into.’” The soft scratching of the quill stopped, waiting for your response.

You turned your head and let your eyes stray to the page behind you.

He was waiting for your response.

“But Flea Bottom is overcrowded as it is, it-“ You swallowed thickly, feeling Aemond shift his hips up slightly into you, “It would start fights amongst the small folk there and rise to the top.”

Aemond thrusted up into you again, the head of his cock brushing against the sensitive patch inside of you. A soundless sigh fell from your lips, slick coating the base of his cock, “Clever girl. And what else?” He asked, voice smooth and even.

You licked your lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as you sat up straighter, looking over his shoulder at the wall behind, “A revolt could start. The small folk could turn against us.”

Aemond’s hand on your hip guided you down onto his length as he pushed himself into you deeply, the hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your sensitive bud, “And that would not be good for public relations, would it?”

You moaned softly, hands winding their way into his hair to grip tightly, “N-no. It would fray tensions even further, bringing more support for my mothers rule despite the treaty.”

Another thrust, yet this time he stilled, smoothing the skin on your hip with gentle fingers. You felt like you were going to implode, the tension already winding rapidly, and yet his movements not quite giving you what you needed.

“And what would you do about Flea Bottom?”

You tried to shift your hips again, to find that you could not move with the hold he had on you. You whined into his neck.

“I asked you a question.”

You huffed, “I would build proper foundations in the slums, offer new housing. It would create trust and graciousness with the common people to the Crown.”

Aemond’s hand slid from your hip as he wrote with his other, his long fingers dipping beneath the skirt of your gown, brushing against your inner thighs teasingly, “That is the smart thing to do. But where do we get the gold, or stonemasons?”

Your hips thrust forward, trying to chase his hand, “You have plenty of gold.”

His hand slid to the meat of your inner thigh, resting heavily against it, “Not what I asked you.”

“Aemond.”

“Y/n.” He mocked you, “We both know you are clever, unless you are cock dumb. Tell me what you truly think. Tell me what you would do in my position. Then, I will reward you.”

You thought for a moment, cunt throbbing around him, “Raising the taxes would only create more stress upon the people who do not have the coins to spare.”

“Good.” He encouraged you, hand sliding back up to your core, hovering just over your pearl.

Emboldened, you swallowed thickly and continued, “And if you were to raise the taxes upon Noble born, it would also cause for troubles. Gold is gold, and their allegiance would be swayed.”

“Yes.” Aemond’s long finger pressed down onto your pearl and you jerked in his lap, a small grunt falling from his lips, Aemond slowly rolled your bud beneath his fingers in gentle circles, “So what can be done?”

Pleasure wound its way up your body as he waited for your response, your mind going slightly fuzzy as you tried to reason with your thoughts.

“If you raise the taxes, but only slightly with Noble born, make it almost unnoticeable. Even if it is by one or two more gold dragons, it is still more gold in the Crowns hand. But don’t raise taxes on the common folk,” Another swirl around your bud, but harder, “There are more of them than us, and despite most Lords believing their worth and word to not be worth what they have at their disposal, you’ll find that ruling with a love from your people is far better than with fear.”

Aemond continued to write behind you, dipping his quill into the ink pot, loudly and slowly scraping it, tapping the metal nib against the glass loudly. His fingers increased their speed, your walls tightening around him.

“We live g-gluttonous lives in the Keep. If we were to cut back, ah!” Aemond fingers sped up their movements, gathering the slick that had pooled into his lap to bring back to your pearl, the coil in your stomach winding, “If we c-cut back on our supplies then we could, -ngh, we could-“

“Yes?”

“We could cut costs there, and use gold in the vaults for said things on-ngh the infrastructure of Flea Bottom. It could in turn create new b-businesses, which means-ah-more people paying taxes, more gold-fuck-in the vaults and more gold to spend. Masons are easy to come by, give the-oh Gods-small folk the tools and means, and-“ You moaned loudly, feeling the coil begin to snap.

“Keep going, come on.” His fingers sped up, his cock firmly seated inside of you, stretching you and pressing against your walls in all the ways you needed.

“They could b-build themselves, or-or you could ask loyalists to offer their hand.”

Aemond dropped the quill into the holder, eye finally on you, “Good girl.”

His fingers pressed into your pearl sharply, and the coil snapped.

You writhed atop his lap as your release shot through you, walls clamping down on his length as you moaned in the chambers. Your limbs tingled with sparks of pleasure, wetness seeping onto Aemond’s robes below.

Your eyes scrunched tight, and Aemond moved forward to kiss at your temple as his hand begin to soothe your back. You slumped against him, cock still inside of you, hard and wanting as you breathed heavily, the world spinning on its axis.

“Olvie sȳz.” Very good, Aemond purred, your eyes blinking drearily against his chest.

You swallowed again, feeling Aemond lips press into your hair, “You could cut back on imports of apples from Cider Hall. House Farroway often sends extra anyway, and I see the apples rot and go to waste here. If we cannot give them to the people, then we should not spend so frivolously.”

“I shall write to House Farroway and notify them of our change in barrels needed.”

Your brows furrowed.

He had listened to you?

You shifted in his lap again, feeling Aemond still very much hard and deep within you.

Pulling back to look at his face, you placed your hands on his shoulders, "Let me help you.” You whispered.

But to your surprise, Aemond took one of your hands from him and kissed the open palm as he shifted his hips, hard member slipping from your core. You whimpered, feeling each ridge of his cock brush against your overstimulated centre.

“Later.” He murmured, before pulling you back against him.

The sound of parchment and quills was all that was heard for the duration of the day, with you seated still flush on Aemond lap.

“There have been rebellions in the Riverlands.”

The words made you come alive.

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