#chapter 4 the gathering storm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flowerandblood · 6 months

Text

The Man with the Deep Scar

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: mention and description of the murder of multiple people, descriptions of wounds, virgnity loss, smut, angst, violence, suicide attempt, trauma, mourning ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

For as long as he could remember, their father had taken no interest in them, preferring his first-born daughter to his second wife's children. He hated her with all his heart, jealous that although he read extensively and was so skilled in hand-to-hand combat, the King only focused his attention on her.

He lived in a constant conviction of defeat − his grandfather incited his mother against his father by saying that if it went on like this it would be Rheanyra who would be chosen by him as heir to the throne, not Aegon, her first-born son.

The tension inside the fortress and their internal strife meant that they failed to see the threat that lurked outside. Discontent among their people was growing due to poor crops and famine − although the King showed concern about the whole situation, his grandfather, Otto reassured him that he had everything under control.

He only recognised how serious the situation was when it became apparent that an army was gathering near the city walls − the lords on whom gigantic taxes had been imposed demanded that the King abdicate and a new ruler be chosen from among the nobles.

House Targaryen had ruled the kingdom for centuries and his father had no intention of giving up the crown to anyone just because they willed it; he called all the lords rising against him traitors, demanding their heads.

However, when it became apparent that the most powerful of the lords, his father's former ally and friend, Lord Walford had risen against them at the head of a rebellion, taking their stronghold by storm, all was lost.

Hearing the sounds of battle and screams he ran to his mother's chamber wanting to make sure she was safe − she was packing up in a hurry and when she saw him she grabbed him by his arms and shook him.

"There is a passage under my bed to an underground shelter. You must press with your little finger the mechanism which is hidden in a small hole under the wooden panels. You and Daeron are to hide there, go get him at once." She ordered in a trembling voice, sweat droplets on her face.

He wanted to defy her, horrified by her condition, feeling that even though he was only twelve years old he was already a man, that he would not hide like a coward but would fight to defend her.

However, he decided that it was indeed necessary to hide Daeron somewhere and was already about to leave her chamber when Lord Walfrod's soldiers suddenly rushed in, their armour and swords all filthy with blood.

He only had time to scream when the blade of one of them swung and drove into his face − he fell to the floor with a loud whine, catching himself on his cheek, completely losing sight of his left eye.

He began to waddle across the floor in front of him towards the bed − he heard his mother screaming but didn't turn to look at her, terrified, thinking only of the fact that he didn't want to die, that he was scared, that he wanted to hide, his heart pounding like mad.

He managed with a shaking hand to find the hole she was saying about − when he slipped his little finger into it something clicked and the flap lifted. He crawled quickly down and closed it behind him, breathing loudly, panting all over, the voices above him muffled and indistinct.

The corridor he was in was very cramped, consisting only of a steep staircase leading down and walls all around him − with one hand he clutched at the painfully burning wound, feeling the warm blood run down his fingers, and with his other hand he began to slide down into complete darkness. He finally reached a sort of enclosed, stone-cold room.

He fell to his knees and wept loudly, his nose all stuffed up from tears − he felt sticky from his own wetness and blood. He was terrified, but most of all he could not forgive himself for running away like a coward, for leaving his beloved mother to die, Daeron and everyone else, for hiding instead of dying with them with honour.

He lay down on the stone floor and stayed like that, listening to the sounds of battle and screams, until there was complete, empty silence. The pain he felt on his left cheek was unbearable and he thought that although he had avoided a quick death, he would die here slowly, forgotten and abandoned.

He decided that he would rather bleed out or die of thirst and hunger than go out and give himself up to these traitors.

Staying in that dark, cold pit, he lost track of time − he didn't know if days or hours had passed. All he could think about was that the ache in his skull was unbearable, his wound oozed and smelled bad, his stomach twisted with pain, his lips dried with thirst.

He felt that he had fallen asleep only to wake up and cry loudly, wishing for nothing more than to find that his mother had survived, to return with his father and brother at the head of a great army and come to his aid.

He imagined that the wooden flap opened and his queen-mother appeared in it like an angel in a pillar of blinding light, that he threw himself into her arms with relief, hearing her tender reassurances that all was well now.

He shuddered when he heard the screech of wood and the sound of a trapdoor opening, the pillar of light coming from the side of the room almost blinding him and he had to take a few steps backwards, pushing against the wall, his heart pounding like mad.

"Is someone there? I can hear you crying. Let me help you, please, speak up." He heard a soft, feminine whisper echoing through the room − he felt a tightness in his throat recognising instantly that it wasn't his mother's voice.

What if it was a trick?

If there were guards with her, if they were about to come down and kill him?

"I will spend tonight with the King in his chamber. I will order my guards to rest and not watch over my rooms. I will leave the flap open for you to leave, on my bed you will find a hooded cloak, a sack of food and coins. Leave the keep through the kitchen rooms in the cellars. My servant will be waiting for you and lead you out. She will hand you over to your mother's friend, Ser Criston."

She said quickly and closed the trapdoor with a quiet creak of wood, the room again surrounded by complete darkness. He breathed loudly, hearing only the rapid beating of his own heart.

Should he believe her or not?

What if she was lying?

What if they were going to torture him?

He clamped his eyelids shut, feeling a terrible pain in his skull and decided that he couldn't take it any longer, that he wanted it all to be over.

He walked back and forth across the dark room, feeling a sudden rush of energy and adrenaline, the blood bubbling strongly in his veins. He jumped back when he heard the creak of wood, followed by someone's footsteps and the sound of a door closing.

There was complete silence.

He swallowed loudly; over these few days his eyesight had completely adapted to the darkness, so he confidently found the steps of the stairs with his hands and slowly began to climb up. He slid out from under the bed and listened for any sounds, however, there seemed to be no one in the room.

He crawled out from under the bed and stood up on trembling legs, looking around quickly but saw no one − on the bedding in fact lay a small cloak, a pouch of coins and a little bag of apples and bread. He took it all, quickly putting the cloak on, pulling the hood over his head and left the chamber, looking around in a panic, his wound hurt more than usual, all swollen and throbbing.

He knew the map of the fortress by heart and indeed had not encountered any guards on his way, so he ran towards the kitchen rooms and stopped, frightened, when he came across a woman. She looked at him horrified and almost screamed seeing his face, turning her head quickly, disgust and disbelief in her gaze − he stood in front of her wondering if she was going to start shouting.

"− gods, so it's true − poor child − come, we don't have much time −" She whispered looking around and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the servants' passage − they walked through the cramped, dark corridors, he could hear rats running past them, his heart pounding like mad.

After a while they reached a small wooden door, apparently intended for deliveries from merchants − the woman opened it and waved to a man dressed in a cloak, a hood over his head, he was standing next to a large cart harnessed to two horses, covered with a large sheet.

"− I got him − quickly −" She whispered to him, the man stepped forward to meet her, a sigh of disbelief escaping his lips when he recognised in him Ser Criston Cole, her mother's sworn protector.

"− thanks be to the gods − your merits will not be forgotten, woman − come, my Prince, we have no time −" He said impatiently, and he moved swiftly after him, jumping on the cart. Criston covered him with a sheet and after a moment he felt a tug − they moved off and he drew a loud breath, laying down on the wood beneath his feet.

He had escaped.

This woman had really helped him.

When his emotions wore off he immediately devoured the piece of bread and apple that the woman had bagged for him, feeling immensely relieved, no longer even thinking about the pain, just that he had survived.

He hoped Criston would take him back to his family, to those who had survived the massacre, that he would see his mother again soon.

As they stopped he heard Criston's voice speaking to someone, and then the sheet lifted, Cole and a man who looked like a monk stared at him in disbelief.

"− good gods −" Muttered a plump priest in a grey habit girded with a simple rope. "− what have they done to him? −"

First they bathed him and changed him into new robes, and then they took him to the medic despite his pleas that he wanted to see his mother and siblings first. Cole stood over him as they waited for the monk to attend to his wound, his face pale.

"− I'm so sorry, my Prince −" He said low, his voice trembling slightly, but he didn't need to say anything more. He felt a squeeze in his stomach, a burning wetness gathered under the eyelid of his healthy eye. He wept like a child even though he wanted to act like a man.

He thought that he had only survived because he was a coward.

When the medic arrived and saw the state he was in, he prayed first and said that it was a miracle that the infection had not killed him, that the wound needed to be decontaminated immediately and the eye had to be taken out.

A stick was placed in his mouth on which he was told to bite his teeth, having previously been given a huge amount of poppy milk and spirit to ease the pain, however, what he felt when his blade penetrated his skin and began to burn and cut away the dead, rotting tissue seemed like pure hell to him.

He fainted after a few minutes of writhing like an animal and muffled screaming, Criston was unable to look at it and walked out. He was left alone and thought that this was his punishment that was waiting for him from now on, punishment for his cowardice, punishment for not being able to behave like a man.

Darkness and loneliness.

He would not allow anyone to light the candles in his cell, which had previously belonged to some other monk, feeling wonderfully invisible there.

When he covered the small window at night with a thick black cloth he was once again in complete darkness, just as he had been when he had spent those few days that seemed to last indefinitely under his mother's chamber.

Criston had told him that his mother had died after several swords had repeatedly pierced her body, his father old and infirm to the point that he, like Aegon, Helaena and Daeron, had had their throats cut in their beds.

The whole attack had been premeditated − Lord Walford had pretended to be a friend of his father-king to the end, and now, from what he understood, he had been chosen from among these fucking traitors to be King and take his place on the throne.

Cole assured him that there were still individuals in the realm and lords who remained loyal to him, who wanted justice and the return of House Targaryen to the throne, who would support him if he wished to regain the crown.

He practised hand-to-hand combat with him every day in the great vaults of the men's monastery. Even though the new king's soldiers repeatedly searched the entire building, thinking rightly that they might have been hiding the prince out of sheer compassion, each time the monks warned them off and gave them time to find another refuge quickly.

He lived only for the thought of doing to the family of the new king what he had done to him.

He knew that he had time, that he could not rush, that this matter had to be carefully considered.

They met in secret in one of the strongholds of his father's former vassal, Lord Malet, who received him with great honours, gathering all his supporters there.

They discussed what to do, having an army smaller and less well supplied than the royal one, unable to act openly, treating the news that the prince was alive as something that could not come to light.

"I have my man in the King's closest guard; he is one of his ghosts. I pay him fairly for any information, he could bring someone else in there. Some spy. We would set up an ambush on one of the already existing ones, similar in size and weight − they wear the same clothes, if his behaviour did not arouse anyone's suspicion, no one would know." He said with conviction, and he licked his lower lip at the thought that popped into his head.

"I'll take his place." He said coolly, looking at the map of the fortress spread out before him on the large table, the lords looked at each other in surprise.

"What do you mean, my Prince? It's dangerous, it puts our whole plan in danger!" Exclaimed one of them, clearly horrified by his proposal − he chuckled under his breath, several of the men swallowing loudly, apparently wondering if he was still remaining in his senses.

"I am very familiar with this fortress and its customs, I will be able to keep up with what is going on there. When what we're speaking about becomes a reality, I need to be on the ground, taking charge and the throne right away." Said matter-of-factly, Criston grunted, looking at him uncertainly.

"This plan has some chance of success, but it would be best if you were not in front of the King himself, as he might order you to remove your mask in his presence. We cannot allow that to happen. It would be best if you served his son or daughter." He said looking around at the assembled crowd, the men looked at each other.

"We can arrange to ambush her at the fair. My ghost told me that she often sneaks past her guards without their knowledge. If someone attacks her, the King will reinforce her guard, perhaps appointing one of his ghosts to the task. When we find out whom, my man will kill him, and you, my Prince, will take his place."

He recognised that, although it was madness, it had a chance of success, and nothing pleased his heart more than the thought that he would be able to take the life of the man who had destroyed his family with his own hands when the time was right.

To his delight, it turned out that the lord's plan had worked and he had indeed appointed one of his closest guards as her protector. The man was killed later that evening, and he and Criston, under cover of darkness, made their way to the fortress from the side of a forgotten passageway that led out into the woods which had once been used to return from hunting.

One of the ghosts, with the help of a servant who was also involved in their conspiracy, dragged the murdered man out of the castle, and he immediately changed into his clothes.

Although they were a tad too tight, when he put on his mask he felt wonderfully peaceful − the darkness and silence that enveloped him made him feel again as he did when only blackness surrounded him.

Solitude.

The ghost explained the exact rules to him again and informed him where there was a place where he could sleep and rest, although, he said, he didn't think he would ever have the opportunity to use it − they only ate at night and usually slept standing or sitting up.

They parted in one of the passageways, and he moved with a confident stride down the corridor he knew well towards the chamber that had once belonged to his sister, and in which now slept this little whore. He saw the disturbed looks of the guards from afar and smiled at the thought that he would soon kill them all.

They needed to smuggle as many of their men and as many weapons into the fortress as possible.

"You may leave. From now on, the Princess is under my protection." He said coldly, one of the men snorted loudly, angry, he could smell the strong odour of alcohol from him.

"You are not a King, by what right do you command us?" He asked resentfully and he chuckled with amusement − he saw that the man looked at him uncertainly, with fear from which he felt pleasure and heat in his chest.

"Shall I inform the King that not only are you incapable of guarding his daughter, but you refuse to obey his orders?"

The man growled something under his breath, speaking of his insolence, walking away with his companion with a loud clang of their armour.

He hummed under his breath as he stepped against the wall facing her door, the door to his sister's chamber, and thought of Helaena, of how gentle and sensitive a person she was, of how she despaired even when one of them accidentally trampled a spider or a slug.

He thought of how she lay alone, terrified, dying slowly, coughing up her own blood, and felt a pain in his heart, swallowing loudly, his heart pounding hard.

He was comforted when the torches around him burned out and he was left at last in complete darkness − he closed his eyes and decided to rest, work out his plan in his head and wait patiently.

He shuddered and opened his eyelids, startled when he heard the loud creak of a door − a figure appeared in it illuminated only by the soft light of a candle, her large eyes looking at him with uncertainty and terror.

His jaw clenched in rage when he involuntarily thought she was beautiful, though he wished she would turn out to be a disgusting, ugly girl that no one would ever want.

However, he could not say anything about her appearance other than that her face was pleasantly fair, smooth and slender, her nose shapely and slightly rounded, her eyes sparkling, surrounded by a veil of long lashes, her long, slightly wavy hair and eyebrows seemed to him as dark as the night itself.

They stared at each other for a long moment without speaking.

"What's your name?" She asked suddenly, uncertainly, softly, with a kind of innocent curiosity from which he felt like laughing.

He didn't answer.

You are a mere whore, he thought with amusement, who wallows in riches filthy from my sister's blood.

"How am I supposed to address you if I don't know what your name is?" She asked, surprised by his lack of answer, but he just looked at her, wondering how she was going to force him to speak to her at all.

Ghosts could only speak with the King.

"Should I complain to the King about you not answering my questions?" She asked with a note of threat in her voice from which he clenched his teeth, letting the air out loudly through his nose, trying to calm himself, thinking only of the fact that meeting the King was the last thing he wanted.

He couldn't allow himself to order him to take off his mask.

"Call me any name you see fit." He answered her coolly, tired of her refusing to leave him alone. She shook her head as if she didn't understand the meaning of the words he spoke to her.

"Shall I name you?" She muttered in disbelief and he turned his head to the side, rolling his eyes, feeling that he was losing patience.

"Yes. My Princess." He said roughly and coolly, adding the last two words quickly, reminding himself that he had to title her in that disgusting way.

For now.

She stared at him for a long moment with those big eyes of hers and swallowed loudly, something on her face that looked like she had made her decision.

"Vhagar."

He felt a shudder when she said this − he remembered a book he had read when he was a small child about a great, terrible dragon that devoured people and burned entire cities.

Could it be that she had read it too?

"I will always treat you with respect and I will never make you do anything to humiliate you or offend your good name." She said with some kind of pain and regret, as if she sympathised with him − he felt his jaw clench tightly, felt for some reason a tightness in his throat at her words.

After a moment, the door closed behind her and he let out a loud breath, swallowing hard, wondering how he was going to stand it all.

However, it turned out that his suffering was rewarded, because already at supper the next day he heard some interesting information about where they were looking for his body, that the case had still not been abandoned.

He wrote a letter to Criston later that night informing him to leave some false trail in the city's vaults, his old child's robes or anything that would help them think they were on the right trail, which he passed on to a trusted servant aware of everything.

Everything was going according to plan until that little whore took him to see her mother.

As soon as he crossed the threshold of her chamber and heard her voice he recognised her and felt a squeeze in his throat, standing at the door, not knowing where to look, his heart pounding like mad.

The new King had locked his wife in the tower like some kind of animal.

He shuddered when he felt her gaze on him, her lips slightly parted, as if she really had seen a ghost.

"The gods are gracious." She whispered in a trembling voice − he felt a sting in his heart at the thought that he was only alive because of her.

"What?" Her daughter asked quietly, as if she didn't understand what her mother had just said, but she wasn't listening, staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and relief.

"You came for me like a death? Have you come to relieve my suffering at last?" She asked in a trembling voice shivering all over, pale and thin − he felt his lips involuntarily clench, his eyebrows twisted in pain, his heart pounding like mad.

"Mother, he is a guardian, he will not hurt you. He will protect us."

"Don't take her away. Have mercy on her and my son, they didn't know." She whispered pleadingly and he clenched his eyelids, thinking with rage and despair that Daeron and Helaena were innocent too.

"Stop, please. Please. You need to rest, mother. You need to eat and rest. I'll bring you some new books next time, all right?"

As they walked back downstairs he was completely immersed in his thoughts and wondered how it was possible that she recognised him. He shuddered, coming back down to earth when he heard her daughter's voice − she was leaning against a pillar with no strength, as if she was about to collapse to the ground.

"Kill me."

His healthy eye looked at her open wide in complete shock, he couldn't believe she had said that out loud.

Did she really mean it?

Involuntarily, his hand slid down to the dagger he had hidden under his cloak, he tightened his fingers on its hilt.

"Please, kill me." She whispered − he could feel his hand clamped on the weapon trembling all over, his jaw clenched so tight he thought his bones would break, his heart pounding like mad.

Don't take her away.

Have mercy on her and my son.

He swallowed loudly, thinking with pain that he would be just.

One mercy for one mercy.

His hand let go of the hilt, and she moved abruptly ahead, as if awakened from sleep, and spoke no more to him.

As soon as the door to his sister's chamber closed behind her, one of the ghosts came up to him and told him that he would replace him because the King wanted to speak to him. He nodded his head, tense, praying to the gods not to make him take off his mask.

He would have to kill him then, and he wanted to wait a little while, until they were better prepared.

He repeated to himself that he had to be patient.

That since he had endured so many years, he would endure a few more weeks as well.

He entered the chamber that had belonged to his father, originally in Targaryen red, now all in shades of blue − Lord Walford looked up at him from the book he had just read.

"Come closer." He said coldly, and he wordlessly obeyed his order, looking ahead indifferently with his hands clasped behind him.

"Did my daughter visit her mother today?" He asked, flipping the page with an aggressive, quick gesture that he noticed out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes."

The king hummed under his breath, stretching out comfortably in his richly decorated wooden chair.

"What did they discuss?" She asked lowly, and he licked his lips, wondering what he should say.

There were guards all around them, they could overhear their conversation, he couldn't come off as a liar in front of him.

He had to stick to his role.

"The Queen expressed disappointment that the young Prince was not visiting her. She also raised concerns that I was the personification of death, had come to bring her relief and take her life. She told me to spare her daughter and son because they did not know anything." He recited in a cold, dispassionate tone − the King sighed heavily, running his hand over his face.

"She has completely lost her mind. She keeps poisoning my poor daughter's head." He muttered, looking ahead with indifferent, enraged gaze.

"Take care of her."

He looked at him in disbelief, unsure if he had understood correctly what he expected of him.

"What do you mean, my King?" He asked lowly, uttering the last words with great difficulty. The man looked at him and licked his lower lip with impatience.

"It should look like she took her own life. Preferably a hanging. That will look the most natural. As long as she lives, our family will never move on."

Walking down the corridor towards the staircase to the chamber in which the Queen was being held, he took two vessels from his pocket, which he had kept for himself in case of need.

He walked all the way up, noticing that there were no guards or servants around, the door to her chamber open − she was sitting on her bed with her hands in her lap and looking towards him smiling, as if waiting for him.

"At last." She said softly, her skinny face as if it had taken on a flush. "I was hoping to see you one day. Believe me, there has not been a day in which I have not prayed for you."

He looked at her impassively feeling a tightness in his gut, playing between his fingers with the glass little bottle he held in his hand.

"You know what I came for." He said matter-of-factly, and she nodded and laughed lightly.

"I've waited a long time for this. For freedom." She replied − suddenly it seemed to him that she was completely sober and awake, that she had known perfectly well all this time what was happening to her.

She was waiting for him to come back and kill her.

He thought with surprise that something moved him at that thought.

"I have a proposition for you, my Lady." He said finally − she looked at him sleepily, wrinkling her brows.

"I will spare your daughter and your son if I gain your family's support in taking the throne." He said lowly, raising a hand with a small vial in front of him, waving it in front of her.

"Black Tears. That is the name of what I now hold in my hands. A few drops are enough to fall into a deep sleep − a person's heart beats slower, their pulse cannot be felt. However, if one drinks too much, one may not wake up again. Do you understand?" He asked coldly − she looked at the liquid and then at him, disbelief in her gaze.

"I'll help you escape."

When it was all over he informed the King that according to his will his spouse was dead. He came to her in his own person and sat down beside her on the bed, touching her cheek.

"Did she suffer?" He asked as if in pain, thought for a moment that he regretted his decision.

"No. She just fell asleep."

The King ordered that her body be prepared respectfully for burial and that he contact the prior of the monastery on his behalf to conduct the ceremony.

This is what he had been waiting for.

"She is alive. Move her to the monastery and inform her family what her king-husband wanted to do. Criston will give her an infusion that will wake her up. It is best if she vomits a few times, she may also have a fever and be weakened." He said to the man who had been like a second father to him during his years of solitude.

The monk looked at him in horror, both of them standing over her body in the small castle chapel that had once belonged to his mother.

"− you risk a lot −" He said, afraid to use his title aloud − he hummed under his breath, looking at her indifferently.

"− I am paying my debt − you always told me that a just King must be merciful − did you not? −" He asked coldly, the man swallowed loudly and looked again at the body of the sleeping Queen.

"We must change the body and put it in the coffin at once. Tell the King that there are nasty marks on the Queen's body, probably indicative of the injection of poison. He will then not allow the lid to be opened and will order a burial as soon as possible." He said indifferently and walked away, leaving the monk with his words.

When he returned he headed for the King's chamber and announced to him that everything was ready for a quick, trouble-free burial. The King showed satisfaction at the speed of his work and praised his organisational skills, glad that his face was obscured by a mask so that he could not see how wide his smile was.

Your end is coming, he thought with amusement.

"Summon my daughter." He said, putting a bite of roast into his mouth.

He wasn't surprised by the Princess's reaction to what her father had said, he wasn't surprised that she didn't believe it, that she ran towards the chamber where she had spoken to her mother only hours before.

He moved quickly after her, seeing that she was in complete hysterics, and thought that she looked just like he had when her father's soldiers had entered his mother's chamber.

"You fucking bastard!" She shouted wrestling with him desperately, trying to hit him with a candlestick, but he caught her easily, her wrists slender and petite − he thought if he put any more strength into his grip he would break her bones.

"− tell me where she is − please −" She mumbled looking at him pleadingly, the candlestick fell out of her hand with a loud clink of steel against the stone floor.

She was despairing, her face all red from tears, her lips puffed up and glistening − he thought there was something beautiful, noble in her suffering.

"− please − please, Vhagar, I don't want her to be alone −" She whined, and he swallowed loudly at the thought that her father hadn't told her everything, that she thought her mother was still alive.

"It's too late. She didn’t suffer."

She spilled into his hands, what he had told her was too much for her mind and heart − she fainted from grief and pain and he caught her in his arms at the last moment.

He picked her up and started down the stairs with her, her head resting against his chest − he thought she was incredibly light and soft, her pleasant scent filling his entire lungs.

He carried her to her chamber and laid her limp body on her bed. He sat down in the chair beside her, spreading himself out comfortably, taking satisfaction for some reason that he could shamelessly look at her from so close.

Her shoulders were bare − the sleeve of her gown slipped off one of them, exposing her naked skin in a way that was inappropriate to say the least.

He had spent eight years of his life within the walls of a men's monastery, devoting himself to training, reading and prayer − the last thing he thought about when dreaming of reclaiming his rightful throne were women and the frailties of the human body.

He shuddered when her body moved − her eyelids parted suddenly, her vision hazy and dreamy, the darkness clearly startling her and it took her a moment to realise where she was and what had happened.

Her face finally turned towards him and she froze, her eyes opened wide in horror, her lips began to tremble − he felt like he saw a flash of a tear run down her cheeks.

"You were supposed to protect her." She uttered in pain. He looked at her with an indifferent expression on his face wondering if she would have thrown herself at his neck if she had found out he had helped her mother escape.

"I did." He saw that she furrowed her brow, furious, so he continued, wanting her to understand exactly what order her father had given him.

"I showed her mercy. Your father the king wanted me to make it look like she took her own life. I gave her poison, after which she just fell asleep, although he suggested hanging. He thought it would look more...natural."

He saw that her eyebrows arched in pain and regret − she pressed her lips together and closed her eyelids, turning on her side, curling up like a small child and huddling in her furs, seeking refuge in the warm fabric.

"When will it be made official?" She asked trying to feign calm, her voice trembling however, betraying her pain and suffering.

"Tomorrow morning the kKng will convene a gathering and announce the sorrowful news."

She raised her gaze to him, he felt something change in the expression on her face − she was thinking hard about something.

"Do you still have that poison?" She whispered and he felt his heart begin to pump the blood faster through his veins − he pressed his lips together and swallowed loudly, wondering if she was really planning to do what he suspected her of doing.

"…yes."

He looked at her in disbelief as she held out her slim, smooth hand to him, trembling slightly, hanging in the air.

"Have mercy on me too." She said softly, pleadingly, warmly − he hesitated, unsure of what he should do.

He had promised her mother he wouldn't kill her with his own hands, but he hadn't said he would stop her from committing suicide.

He got up slowly from his seat with a loud creak of the old wood and pulled out a small vial of leftover poison, enough to kill her. He walked over to her and handed it to her, looking at her with some kind of wide-eyed excitement, wondering what she would do.

He thought she was only pretending, that she wanted to arouse his pity, that she hoped he would stop her at the last moment.

"Is it going to be painful?" She asked in a trembling voice, looking at him helplessly, his heart pounding like mad − he could feel the cold sweat running down the back of his neck.

"No. You'll just fall asleep." He replied softly, and she sighed quietly, as if relieved, startling him when she opened the vial in a perfectly confident motion and immediately tilted its entire contents down her throat.

She swallowed loudly and looked at him with big eyes, horrified as he was by what she had done, by the knowledge that she was going to die, and lay back, tears of sadness, grief and fear running down the sides of her face.

She looked like a small child.

"Will you stay with me?" She asked in a trembling voice filled with despair and sorrow − he felt his heart sting, only realising a moment later that he was breathing heavily through his mouth.

"Yes." He whispered, noticed how involuntarily her head slowly slid to the side, her eyelids closed, her lips slightly parted.

She did it.

She couldn't take it and took her own life.

He went to her, pulling the black leather glove from his hand and touched her neck. He pressed his lips together, still sensing her pulse, wondering strenuously whether to let her die.

If it turned out that the King's daughter on his watch had died, he would have to kill him outright.

They weren't ready yet, they needed the support of her mother's family.

He clamped his eyelids shut and sighed heavily, taking her hair from her face with his fingers and swallowed loudly at the thought that her skin was incredibly warm and soft − he ran his fingertips over it for a moment as if it were a sheet of water before he reached into his coat pocket and took out a second vial.

He took the cork out of it, caught her cheeks in his hand and poured its contents down her throat, lifting her so that she didn't suffocate, her body began to shake.

She snorted loudly and squeezed him tightly − he reached quickly for the bowl of fruit standing next to her bed and dumped it on the stone floor, placing it under her mouth before her body shook with convulsions.

"Come on, you have to get it out of your body. Yes, there we go." He whispered as she began to vomit − he looked at her and thought with surprise that for some reason he felt relieved.

She was merely a tool in her father's hands, just like him, surrounded only by a terrifying, cruel, cold darkness.

He thought with some kind of pain, watching her as she fell asleep, shivering with fever and fatigue, that she was as alone as he was. He covered her with thick furs and lasted by her side all night without a wink, wanting to be sure she was still alive.

He was shocked to see that the next day, despite her fever, she got up as if nothing had happened, ordered her servants to help her dress in a black gown even though her father had not yet declared mourning.

Her expression of defiance, her expression of strength.

She was so pale that when he saw her walking in a small procession behind the coffin, he thought she really did look like a ghost − he had the feeling she was about to collapse, yet she walked ahead, her gaze distant, cool and empty.

He watched as she smiled at her father, as she pretended in front of him only to see complete emptiness appear on her face when he disappeared from her sight, a coldness in her gaze from which for some reason he felt a pleasant tickle in his fingertips.

"It's time to go back." He said finally snapping her out of her lethargy. She walked over to the grave where she believed her mother rested and placed her hand on it, tired and filled with pain.

"No. I won't leave her alone this time."

He looked at her impassively, for some reason feeling that he understood her, that like him she blamed herself for not protecting her mother.

They had both lost them at the hands of the same man.

"She's free now." He said calmly.

It wasn't a lie.

He had never lied to her.

She looked at him in a way that made him lift his chin higher, challenging her. She approached him slowly, her face enveloped in a black veil seemed even more mysterious and disturbingly beautiful to him, as if she were not human, her shape seemed slightly blurred to him, as if she did not really exist.

He drew in a loud breath when he felt her hand on his chest, her lips placing a kiss on the cold mask that covered his face in the place below where his cheek had been. He looked at her in disbelief as her hand stroked his mask, smelling the pleasant scent of her skin, a mixture of lavender and chamomile.

"This is my expression of gratitude for your dedication to the affairs of our family." She said with feigned tenderness, her puffy lips slightly parted, her gaze indifferent, sharp, dark. He felt a throbbing inside his breeches and swallowed loudly, embarrassed and horrified by his body's reaction.

He thought, following her back towards the keep, that they were the same.

That as King he would need a Queen, a woman who would give him offspring and extend his line.

What would unite the realm more than the marriage of two conflicted sides, bringing peace and order at last?

He thought about it watching her while she was bathing, when she let him stay, saying he could watch − he was completely hard at the thought that when it was all over he would take her for himself, that this warm, soft body with pleasant, girlish shapes that peered through from under her wet chemise would be his alone.

He thought of this only to clench his hands around her neck a moment later, watching her terrified face trying helplessly to catch its breath after thinking horrified that she had ruined everything.

She had found the passage.

Why, why couldn't she just leave it all?

Why was she forcing him to do this when only he could give her freedom of life or death?

He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against hers − he let out a growl of rage and let her go, heard her draw in the air loudly as she looked at him with a gaze full of terror and disbelief, her lips swollen and red from the blood that, through the adrenaline, flowed quickly through her veins.

She was beautiful.

He sighed heavily, involuntarily clinging to her − she trembled all over trying to push him away, but he was stronger than her. He began to rub against her body with his swollen cock and parted his lips, feeling his manhood respond with a strong pulsing, wave after wave of hot, tickling pleasure flowed through his lower abdomen.

"You are my curse. My ruin." He exhaled, looking closely at her face, her dark, wonderfully long eyelashes surrounded her eyes, staring at him with disbelief, fear and something that made him hot, her eyebrows arched in indecision, her full, moist lips parted slightly − he thought he would have killed for the chance to taste them. "My doom."

He shuddered and lost his breath for a moment when he felt her hands let go of his chest and slide down to his hips, her thighs spread out in front of him, her fingers tightening on his flesh, pressing him tighter against her − she sighed quietly beneath him, breathing louder and louder.

"− destroy me − leave me with nothing −" She whispered; he felt a powerful shudder run through him and he thought it was over, that he had to do it, that he had to feel her.

He didn't believe it when he felt her own hands help him untie and slide down his breeches, he didn't care if she changed her mind − he wanted her and took her. He forced his way inside her with difficulty, her fleshy walls clenching against him, resisting him, a whimper of discomfort escaping her lips.

He was panting and moaning along with her, sliding into her with effort all the way in, with a natural, subconscious movement beginning to root into her, delighted at how tight and warm she was, how with each thrust of his hips he slid into her with increasing ease, his movements accompanied by the loud click of her moisture.

She was wet.

"− good gods, you are fucking enjoying this −" He muttered with a sneer and groaned low, feeling her clench tightly around his manhood − he began to slam into her harder and faster, feeling that something was happening to him, some kind of tension was rising and rising, he felt like his cock was about to explode.

And then it happened.

He came inside her, for the first time in his life he experienced fulfilment and it was so stupefying and pleasurable that for a moment he was just panting with his eyes closed, rooting into her again and again, trying to prolong it, listening to her mewling of pleasure, her cheeks wonderfully pink, her gaze misty, her lips parted sweetly.

He stared at her thinking about the fact that he had filled her to the brim with his seed, that he felt fulfilled as a man, as a lover, as a husband, as a King, as anyone he wanted to be.

He had taken for himself the woman he desired and filled her with himself.

Was there anything more natural?

However, he quickly regained his sobriety of mind as did she − they pulled away from each other, terrified. He slid out of her and she moved away quickly, covering her thighs, panting loudly, looking at him in horror, clearly thinking he was still going to try to kill her.

He reached up quickly and tied his breeches, looking at her in disbelief, his manhood still all wet from her juices, from what had flowed out of her after she had reached her peak with him deep inside her.

He looked at her and thought only of the fact that he had never experienced something so pleasurable before in his life.

That through his seed she could soon carry his child in her womb.

That she would become his Queen.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

316 notes · View notes

asumofwords · 6 months

Text

Lighthouse - Sailor!Aemond x LighthouseKeeper!Reader - Mini Series 4/4

Summary: You work as a lone Lighthouse keeper on a small island just off the coast. Everyday was the same routine, tending to your duties and the lamp with not much time to spare. But what will happen to your routine when a storm rages across the sea, and a handsome man washes ashore?

Warnings: This fic is 18+. Readers discretion is advised. Warnings will be added in their relevance. She/Her Pronouns. Pining, kiss, angst, anxiety, fingering, smut, pussy eating like a champ, creampie for days, creampie, longing, dirty talk, love, fluff.

Note: Good lord, this is a long one, and also the final chapter! It's sitting at 12k words, so settle in for a hefty piece because I refused to cut it down or into two. Thank you all so much for your love and support of this mini series, I have had so much bloody fun writing it! I hope you enjoy how I have ended it, and hopefully now I can do some one shots for once in my damned life hahaha. Anyway, enjoy!!! <3

Final Chapter: Inevitable Ends, New Beginnings

The first thing that you noticed as you woke was a soreness between your thighs, a dull ache that throbbed with your heart beat, eyes slowly opening to the early morning light.

The room had a light blue glow to it, the sun only just beginning to rise over the sea and lands behind you, casting your little sanctuary in a cerulean tint.

The second thing that you noticed when you awoke that morning was that you were alone.

You turned in the sheets, eyes surveying the room in search for the silver head of hair you had grown accustomed to seeing almost every waking moment, but he was nowhere to be found, though there was evidence of his presence being there.

Bar the small marks on your skin, the smell of him in your sheets, and the soreness between your legs, your clothes that had been strewn on the floor were now neatly folded on your chest at the side of the room, and the lack of breeches and tunic told you that Aemond was already up and dressed.

A moment of anxiety crawled through you.

Had he left you?

But then you remembered that he had no way off of your island, unless of course he swam, which you very much doubted he would be desperate enough to escape you to do that. But then there was the reason for his absence that early morning that began to spiral out of control in your mind.

Had he slipped out of bed? Tiptoeing as quickly and quietly as possible to not stir you from your sleep because he regretted last night, and could not bare to face the shame and embarrassment of seeing you?

Had your moment of weakness tainted his stature in society?

Would he beg that you tell none other?

Not that you knew anyone from where he was from, but still, the inferiority of your birth gnawed at your conscience and creeped through you like the bitter sea winds.

Did he get his fill and was now avoiding you at all costs?

Was he repulsed in himself for laying with you?

Did he wish to pretend that it did not happen?

Was his early departure to find the time and wherewithal in himself to gather strength to not feel ill upon looking at you?

Sure, men of his breeding were sometimes known to lay between any woman’s legs, but it was usually one of equal standing and not at all someone of your status. And if last nights activities were any reference, there was no doubt within your mind that he had in fact lain with women before, once, twice, more, if his skills were any indicator. But perhaps they had been Ladies of his court back home, women of good breeding in high society, and for him to have been with you, well that would be akin to rolling in the mud.

You pulled yourself from bed and dressed yourself nervously, shaking your runaway thoughts, fingers stumbling over your buttons, pulling hastily at the laces of your boots, all too tight for your feet to be comfortable.

When you walked into the living space, you found that the glasses and whiskey had also been put away, no longer on the table where they had been left that evening, and atop the coal stove sat your kettle, steam rising from its nozzle.

Beside the door, your large coat was hung on its hook, and the hook beside it, which had recently held your fathers old coat, given to Aemond to keep him warm on the breezy island, was now bare. At the absence of the coat, you knew that Aemond was to be outside, and decided to go out in search of him.

Perhaps he left early to see what he could salvage of your boat, desperate to rebuild it himself and risk another encounter with the waves in an effort to get away from you. Or perhaps he had-

You walked to the lighthouse, the only place he could possibly be besides the beach that was empty with few planks of wood and what remained of his ship that hadn’t been re-swept out to sea.

Dew covered your boots, kicked up from the soft strands of grass with every step you took. The air was cold, and as you breathed, a cloud of your breath puffed in front of you, white and soft that dissipated before your eyes just as quick as it came.

The large door to the lighthouse creaked open, and then clunked shut behind you, echoing up the spirals of stairs, no doubt alerting him to your presence. You slowly began to make your way up the never ending steps, the only time in your life in which you had dreaded it and found each one to be harder than the last.

Would he run?

Would he scorn you for seducing him? Bewitching him? Tempting him?

Or would he let you down gently? Telling you the dispiriting truth that you both knew; That he was a Lord and you were not of good breeding, and he would have to go and be wed to his advantageous bride that awaited him back home, and that laying with someone like you was a grievous mistake indeed.

Your heart beat in your chest rapidly, gut churning as you picked at the skin at your nails nervously.

When you got to the top of the lighthouse's small landing where the lamp was held, you spun in search of him, spotting the figure of the sailor, bent over the small desk in the corner, quill in hand.

His long hair was pulled back in a loose braid, tied together with a piece of ribbon from one of the bags of food William had delivered to you. You watched as his hand moved swiftly across the page of your log book, pointer and thumb delicately holding the quill as ink pressed into the parchment with a neatness and precision that could have only be attained from proper schooling.

Hearing your approach, Aemond lifted his head to face you. Stray strands of silver hair hung in front of his face, swiftly tucked behind one of his pale ears as he gazed at you.

A small smile pulled at his lips, eyes crinkling in the corners.

All anxiety, all worries, any trepidations about his reaction after your coupling from the evening before were swept out the window when he stood straighter, smile pulling wider at his lips.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” He placed the quill in its holder, leaning down to the book to blow at the ink gently before he took a step toward you, “You needed the rest.”

Be still my beating heart.

You smiled at him shyly, watching as he came closer towards you, hand twitching at his side as though it longed to reach forth and close the gap between you.

But it didn’t.

“You should have woke me.” Your hands clutched each other tightly in front of your skirts, embarrassment licking at your neck. How could you have ever doubted him?

Aemond shook his head at you, “No need. You have already taught me what needed to be done.” He turned to face the table again, picking up the log book to hand to you, “I’ve logged the weather for the morning. Checked the lamp and oil reserves. All is well.”

You took the book from him, watching as his finger reached to graze yours gently, sparks flying up your arm. His writing was neat, swift and soft loops pulling in a slant as he correctly and proficiently logged the winds, skies, seas and temperature. There was not a thing missing, and he had even written note of his predictions of the weather for the rest of the day.

He stepped closer towards you, heat radiating off of him, “Besides, it’s only fair since I spent the night teaching you something new.”

Heat rushed to your face, hands clutching the logbook tightly as you looked away nervously, hearing his soft chuckle before his head dipped, hands coming to grasp the log book from your own, fingers purposefully covering yours, “Do you want to double check my work?” He asked softly.

You shook your head underneath him, stepping back, letting him take the log book from you to place back on the table, “No, I trust you.”

At your words, a softer smile pulled at his lips, before he held his hand out in the direction of the stairs, “Shall we? You’ve not eaten yet.”

“How did you-“

“-You would have seen I was gone and come straight for me. You’re a naturally curious person, and no doubt had a myriad of questions or things to say. I wondered if you would have felt some sort of fear to wake up alone after what we did last night.”

Heat rose in your cheeks again, and you cursed yourself mentally for ever doubting him, for ever doubting yourself, “I thought perhaps you would have made a mistake. You are a Lord, and I-“

“-You are far more than what you believe. I have not met anyone quite like you. Your birth and rank mean nothing to me.” Aemond’s hand reached forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, warmth spreading through you at his words.

You couldn’t look at him, casting your gaze down to your hands as your eyes prickled with tears. How could he be so kind to you? How could he be so understanding? So calming?

As your thoughts began to race away from you again, Aemond uttered your name, causing your gaze to raise to his.

“Stay with me. Do not let your mind run away from you.” His seeing eye flicked back and forth across your face, the other unmoving, “Come. Let's eat.”

Aemond had walked with you by your side back to your cottage, and together you ate your breakfast, talking quietly to one another, through the initial shyness that swallowed you, about anything and everything you could to avoid talking about the evening before and what it meant for you, and despite his obvious desire to discuss it, he did not push the conversation and allowed the pace to suit your needs.

And that was how your days passed, not quite dismissing what had happened, nor acknowledging it outright like before, but knowing that it had changed the space between the two of you. The dynamic had changed once again, the way you began to dote on each other changed, or more so, him doting on you more romantically.

For every morning that passed, you would wake to an empty bed to find him in the lighthouse before the sun would rise, logging the weather and checking upon the lamp. Even times where he would stir you from your sleep in the middle of the night as he left to keep an eye on it, or telling you to take rest and go to bed if you had been with the lamp in the late hours.

What was more, was that Aemond no longer slept upon the small couch, and nor did you, the both of you comfortably sharing your bed together in the cold of the night. At first you had been nervous, but Aemond had behaved as though the two of you had slept in a bed together for years, simply telling you that the two of you should retire for the night and sliding beneath the covers, opening the other side for you to crawl in after.

Your initial thought at the behaviour was that he wished to dive between your thighs again, to lick and suckle at the crux of your legs or thrust himself between them, but not once had he pushed for it, or been untoward, in fact, he seemed to open the possibility of a second time to be entirely under your control.

Not that he didn’t touch you, no, he would slide behind you and tuck you beneath his chin, arm wrapped around your middle to keep you close to him, lips pressing featherlike kisses atop your crown when he thought you had fallen asleep, fingers tracing your curves with a featherlight touch during the night.

The shift was not only different for the dynamic between the two of you and your new living arrangements, but different in your own duties. No longer did the work of the island consume your every waking moment and thoughts, for now you had time to sit, to read, to get a good nights rests and spend more time attending to smaller more menial tasks, like repairing clothing that you usually wouldn’t have time to, or cleaning the cottage throughly. You also felt yourself smiling more, laughing more, enjoying life and what Aemond brought to it.

It was simple, nothing extravagant of course, but above all, content. It was in those quiet moments when he would tell you a tale of sailing or more sanitised story of his youth, small smile on his lips, did you realise that you were happy. Happier than you had ever been, and in every hour that passed spent with him, a warmth within grew.

A warmth for him grew.

It wasn’t until you had insisted that Aemond sleep the early morning and for you to tend to the lamp did you realise just how much time had passed.

You were up the lighthouse on the circular gallery that it had outside, leaning against the railings as you looked out at the water, watching as the dark blue waves rocked softly against the cliff below, and even more gently towards shore, which was slowly becoming illuminated with the sun. But that was not all that was illuminated.

There on the rocking waves, was a row boat, off in the distance, making its way towards you.

It was not an unfamiliar boat, nor was it manned by an unfamiliar man.

William was rowing towards your island, reprieve supplies in tow which he delivered on time, every time, but this time you had forgotten what day it was, how much time had passed since he last came, too preoccupied with the new and exciting presence that had landed upon your beach.

With swift steps you made your way down the spiral case and sped to the cottage.

What would William say when he saw Aemond?

Would he be shocked?

Would Aemond be compelled to leave?

Would William send word to Aemond’s family and alert the town, thus speeding up Aemond’s farewell?

You selfishly didn’t want him to leave, and almost wished William had forgotten about you, just this once. And there it was, that ache in your chest once again at the thought of him leaving, at the very real knowledge that he would leave, and that you would be alone once more.

When you entered the cottage, Aemond was seated at the table, cup of steaming tea in his hand with another in front of him at your seat waiting.

Waiting.

He was waiting for you, with fresh tea made.

Your eyes welled with tears before you swallowed them down, a lump in the back of your throat forming. You almost didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to see the excitement light in his eye in knowing that he could go.

That brilliant violet eye, a colour you had never thought to be true on a person until you saw him, a colour in which made your heart fill with warmth and stomach full of flurry, looked up at you, smile at the ready until he saw your anxious demeanour.

Your shifted on your feet back and forth before pulling your coat off to hang at the door awkwardly.

Sensing your anxiety, Aemond straightened in his seat, “What is it?” His smooth timbre crackled in the air, your back facing him as your face crumpled.

You swallowed and steeled yourself as you turned to sit with him at the table, pulling out your chair opposite to him as you sat quietly, grasping the hot mug in your hands.

“Is there another storm coming?” His voice wavered as he asked, lingering fear of storms still clawing painfully in his mind. The visions of the waves, the darkness, the screams of his men, the water entering his lungs, the-

“A man comes.” Your voice pulled him from his memories, fingers tightening on the sides of the mug, “William. He brings my reprieve.”

Aemond’s silver brows pulled into a frown, “You sent word of my presence.”

It wasn’t a question.

It was an accusation.

“No.” You shook your head, and watched as he visibly relaxed, “I wouldn’t have sent word unless you asked. William brings my reprieve every fortnight or so. We have been so busy I,” You gnawed at your lip, “I forgot. I thought we would have had longer, but now I suppose when he comes, you can go with him. Take lodge in his home.” You sipped the hot tea to swallow your nervous rambling, but still it broke forth, “I have a friend, a fellow sailor. Dalton Greyjoy, he could take you close to home, another port, anywhere to help. I don’t have money to pay for your passage, but he likes me well enough to perhaps do me this one favour. Or mayhaps you could offer gold on your arrival, I’m sure-“

“-You wish for me to leave?”

“No. But I know you must.” Your heart clenched in pain, you lowered your gaze to the mug of tea in your hands, watching the steam slowly rise from it, “You have a family waiting for you, worried for you. I do not wish to keep you here knowing that I may be causing you pain, or your family pain in the unknown.”

If you had raised your eyes to meet his, you would have seen Aemond frown lightly, but you didn't, so you hadn’t.

“You do not keep me here, and my family are not of your concern.” A beat, “Nor mine.”

Silence wrapped around the both of you as you refused to meet his gaze.

“When shall he arrive?”

You swallowed, looking at the small clock on the mantel, “Within the hour.”

Aemond nodded in your periphery, chair scraping beneath him as he stood, “Excuse me.”

His footsteps echoed on the stone flooring as he made his way to the door, pulling your fathers coat onto his shoulders before he left, no doubt waiting at the small alcove or beach to watch William arrive.

You stared at the clock for some time, watching as the minutes ticked by, arm moving across its face slowly. But now that he was gone, away from seeing you, you allowed yourself to feel the ache that had crashed inside of you. Tear after tear fell down your cheeks silently as you watched the clock, the heat of the mug that lightly stung your palms, slowly but surely turning cold.

He would leave, and you would be alone.

Alone.

Again.

And he would leave and marry another.

Not you.

It shocked you that the thought of him laying with another, holding another tightly to him, caressing her, kissing her, smiling at her in ways that only you had seen thus far, made your stomach feel as though a knife was twisting itself inside. The lump in your throat sharp as though a dagger had been thrust through flesh and sinew, obstructing you from swallowing or breathing.

It felt as though you were losing him again.

You didn’t know why, you couldn’t reason with it, for you had never known him before, but that day on the beach, as he lay lifeless in the sand, you had lost him.

And then he had come back.

And now he was to leave once more, and no more would he laugh in your small four walls, nor would he wake you with tea, or twist in the sheets beside you.

No more would his hand linger upon yours, or his lips, or-

As another tear fell, the door to the cottage opened, and your hands quickly swiped up the wet tracks left behind on your cheeks. Rapid steps moved into the room as the door clunked behind.

“Your friend has arrived.” Aemond breathed, looking at the redness of your eyes and un-wiped tears on your chin.

You swallowed, that dagger still lodged in place and nodded your head to stand, averting your eyes from his as you brushed down your skirts, “I suppose then I should fare you well.”

All that you could hear was the crackling of the fire and the beat of your heart thundering in your ears. You knew if you looked up at his face, to look into his lilac eye, to gaze upon his soft lips and sharp edges, that you would fall apart.

And so you didn’t, keeping your eyes averted to the corner of the room near the fireplace, wishing for it to be over. Wishing that he had never washed ashore so that you wouldn’t have to bear the heartbreak of him leaving.

Because that’s what it was, you realised in that moment.

Heartbreak.

“I’m afraid I will have to ask for your generosity once more.” Aemond breathed, and you blinked, slowly raising your eyes to meet his. His seeing eye searched your face as he breathed heavily, “I feel I may be succumbing to illness. I am falling- I feel,” He swallowed, “I feel compelled to stay. If you’ll have me. If not for a while longer.” His chest rose and fell visibly beneath the coat, hair cascading over his shoulders like waves of water.

He wished to stay?

Here?

With you?

Aemond blinked at your silence as his shoulders slumped slightly. He shook his head, looking to the floor, “Forgive me. That was too much to ask of you-“

“-No.” You shook your head, “No, not at all. If you,” You swallowed thickly, “If you feel unwell and compelled to stay, who am I to cast out a Lord in need?”

Relief washed over the two of you, and an unspoken air of gratitude floated amongst the space. You fought the urge to smile, to laugh, to jump with joy at the prospect of him staying longer. Of wanting to stay longer, of the thought that perhaps staying here with you was better than the prospect of going home to his family.

His previous words echoed in your head.

Let me stay dead a while longer.

Was this his staying dead a while longer? Avoiding his duties that awaited him when he returned home?

“Will you tell William of my presence?” His voice broke you from your revere.

You blinked.

Would you?

“Did you wish for me to?”

“No.”

You breathed a silent sigh of relief, “Then I shall not tell William of your presence.”

Aemond shifted on his feet, before nodding, “Thank you.”

You gave him a hopeful smile in response.

William arrived not too long after your agreement with Aemond for his extended stay, and hidden presence. You watched on from shore as he pulled his boat up the sand, his warm eyes crinkling at the sight of you.

“Y/n, my girl!” He called out to you, trudging up the sand to you as he pulled you into a tight embrace which you returned heartily, head tucked against his chest.

Ever since your father had passed, William had become a father figure to you, but he had always been like that. Or at least like an uncle, a man who cared and loved you just as much as he did his own. You considered him family, and he considered you one of the same.

“How have you fared? We worried for you with that storm." His hand gripped your shoulder tightly, "Celia was beside herself with worry, pacing about the fire each night. Thought she would have burnt a hole in the floors by the end of it.” He chuckled, pulling away to look you over as you smiled up at him.

“As you can see, I am alive and well. The sea did not swallow me this time round.” You smiled, and turned to help him pull his boat further up the beach to unpack the supplies.

“Not all were so lucky,” William cast a glance to the remaining debris from Aemond’s ship, “Large pieces of hull washed ashore, we worried the ship had run aground atop the lighthouse.” His voice grew morose, “A few men washed up on the beach, but none survived the storm.”

You nodded solemnly, pulling a large bag of flour from the row boat as you lined it up on the grass with the others, “Debris landed here too. The ship sunk just off of the horizon in the thick of the storm. The sea took all.”

William hummed sadly, “Unbelievable storm that, not even Lord Greyjoy had seen a storm so large. Did any find their way here?”

You straightened, heart beginning to race in your chest. You swallowed and carefully thought of your next words, “One. Though he succumbed to waves like the others.”

The lie made you shift uncomfortably. You didn’t want to lie to William, but you didn’t want to go against Aemond’s wishes either.

A large hand grasped your shoulder and tightened softly, “There was nothing you could have done. We saw the lighthouse day and night through the storm and thats how we knew you were safe. Celia dragged me to the beach in the rain to make sure it was on as proof of your wellbeing.”

You nodded, “It would take far more than a storm to stop me or the lamp.”

William chuckled, a crackly laugh that was familiar and warm, “Don’t I know it. Now, are you going to make this old man a drink, or do I have to beg for one.”

You laughed at his words, picking up the sack of flour and other bags of food and supplies, leaving the large crates for him to carry, “Come on then, before the Gods take you.”

After doing multiple trips and talking along the way, the cottage was now filled with supplies and food for the next fortnight. Flour and dried meats and other items were strewn on the counter and in the kitchen, leaning against the walls and shelves, whilst small jars of pickled foods and jams made by Celia were neatly lined in a small crate on the table.

When the two of you had begun to drop the supplies into the cottage, you held your breath, hoping that Aemond had made himself scarce and out of the way as you came in and out. Thankfully, your bedroom door was for once closed, and you assumed Aemond was keeping himself quiet inside.

William sipped at the warm tea you made him as he seated himself in the chair that had become Aemond’s, long stocky legs stretched out in front of him as he rubbed a knee with a hand, working some invisible pain or injury out of it.

“Place looks good,” William commented, eyes roaming across the room, “You’ve been busy.”

You hummed in reply, lifting the mug to your lips.

If only he knew.

But William’s gaze stopped by the door, eyes locked onto something as he wordlessly stared.

Shifting in your seat you turned to face it, stomach dropping.

Beside your empty hook, was the other.

And hung on it, was your fathers old coat.

Aemond’s coat.

Your head turned back to look at William, mouth opening and shutting as you tried to think of an excuse, as you tried to think of a way to explain as to why there was a man’s coat hung on your door when you had supposedly been alone. And as you opened your mouth to explain yourself, to make up some poor take of an excuse, William beat you to it.

“I miss him too.” His voice was lower than it had been before, “Did you keep all his belongings?”

Your heart pounded in your ears, and a pang of grief moved through you.

Your pa.

He thought you had his coat out because you missed him.

And whilst you did miss him, you were thankful that that was what William thought of it, and not that there was a man living with you, currently hiding in your bedroom. Though, that would be a hard thing for William to believe, even if you told him.

You nodded, “It seemed a waste to be rid of them.” You sipped your tea, wondering where this conversation may lead you.

William gave a gruff sigh, “Do you not get lonely here? You’re all on your own. A woman your age should have a companion, someone to talk to at the very least. A cat even.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Are you suggesting I marry someone? I have my pigeon, but she’s not very talkative.”

The sea weathered man raised his shoulders, “You’re not getting any younger.” His words irritated you as he continued, “Not that you’re not capable of doing this on your own.” He explained, watching as your eyes narrowed on him, “You’ve proven yourself more than capable for that. I just,” Another sigh, “I know this isn’t what your father wanted for you.”

“Wanted for me?”

“He didn’t want you here, trapped. He wanted you to see the world, to go out and meet someone. He hoped you would settle down, start a family. He did not want to bear the burden of the lighthouse onto you.”

You looked down at the table, “It’s not a burden.”

“I know.” He said, but it didn’t sound as though he believed you, “But how often do you get to do things for yourself?”

You gave him a small smile, “I am perfectly content here, I don’t see why I should have to marry.”

“I’m not saying you have to, I’m merely suggesting the option.”

You hummed, “Well, not many men would like to live this life, nor are they prepared or knowledgable enough for it.”

Except for Aemond.

William laughed, crows feet becoming deeper, “I know you think men are a burden, if not a waste of ones time, but you never know, one may just wash ashore and change your perspective.”

Your breath stilled in your chest.

Did he know?

“What about Greyjoy?” William clicked his fingers, “The Dalton lad.” “His eyes always looks for you when he comes to town. Asks after you; Where you are, who you’re with, what you’re doing. Nice lad.”

“Nice enough.” You shifted uncomfortably, “But his heart belongs to the sea, and he would scarcely be home. What life would I live raising a child with a father who blows in with the tide? Not to mention, he has, shall we say, fleeting affections for others.”

William snorted, “I wouldn’t say his affections for you were fleeting, but aye, he is a man of the sea through and through. And those Greyjoys are known for their whoring.”

You guffawed, “William!”

“What?” He looked at you incredulously, “I speak the Gods honest truth. He wouldn’t be my first choice for you, but Celia-“

“Ahh.” You leant back in your chair, “Has Celia been playing the matchmaker of late?”

The older man grumbled, “When has she not? She tried to suggest Edmund Pyke-“

“-The fish mongers son?”

“Aye.” William shook his head, “Meek young man, too meek for the likes of you. I told Celia you’d eat him alive.”

A huffed chuckle fell from your lips, “Not much to devour. If I remember correctly, he stands half your size. Quiet boy.”

“Indeed. Always a shock when you hear him speak, like a mouse’s fart.” The man teased, draining the rest of his tea in one gulp, “But a man like that is no match for a woman like you. You need someone who can take what you give.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, “I doubt any man would be worthy of you. You are so very much like your mother; kind, soft.” A grin pulled at his lips, "But then you are frustratingly stubborn like your father and argumentative to a fault. And Gods awful at making tea.” He grimaced.

“My tea is perfectly fine, thank you very much. If it is so horrible for you to drink, then perhaps you should make yourself scarce.” You bit the insides of your cheeks to stop yourself from smiling, and William did the same, until finally he burst into a howling laugh, hand on his stomach as his head bent backwards.

“Oh no,” He grinned, standing with a grunt and pop of his knees, “I don’t worry for you marrying a man, I worry for the poor soul who will have to marry you.”

You stood to meet him, “Then you needn’t worry, for I see no husband on the horizon by the name of Greyjoy or Pyke.”

William raised a brow, “Just those names then?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, “Be quiet, you.” You smacked him on the chest lightly, letting him pull you in for a final hug.

Slowly you walked William back to his boat, chatting quietly amongst yourselves as you went to shore, helping him to drag it down the sand to the water, the little vessel swaying in the small waves, the sun slowly beginning to set in the horizon.

“Now you take care of yourself, you hear me? Come to town and visit when the weather is fare. The girls would love to see you.”

You nodded, promising to come soon, hugging him once more on the sand.

William took one final gaze at you, eyes searching your face with an almost unreadable expression to it, “You’ve changed.” He pushed his boat further into the water before sitting to face you, rowers in hands as his boat rocked side to side on the small waves, “You’re lighter. Brighter. Before the storm you were dull, but now…” His voice trailed off in the wind as he rowed himself backwards slowly, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love!” He called out, boat moving away from the beach.

“A good thing you know better!” You called out after him, heat rising in your neck and face as your heart began to race in your chest, “Give my love to the girls!” You waved and he nodded, your feet stepping back to avoid a small wave that dragged water up to your boots, “And tell Celia to stop trying to marry me off like a prized mare!”

“I’ll do no such thing!” William yelled back laughing, before finally he was away.

You stood on the beach, watching the man grow smaller and smaller as he made his way back to shore. Your feet had begun to sink into the sand, damp seeping in through the sides before you decided to return back to the cottage.

When you entered, your bedroom door was open, and Aemond was in the kitchen, pumping water in the dry sink to wash the two cups and put them away. As he heard your approach he turned his head toward you, though not fully.

“He seems a decent man.” He stated softly, hands scrubbing the tea from the cups.

You smiled softly, “He is. I grew up with him. Always visiting me and pa whenever he had the chance. And when pa died, he became a father to me.”

Aemond hummed, “He cares a lot about you, as if you’re his own.” Aemond grabbed a cloth and dried the mugs placing them back on the shelf, “It’s good to see decent men being decent fathers.”

You nodded and smiled. You knew from what Aemond had told you that he did not have a good relationship with his father, and you were more than fortunate to not only have one, but two father figures in your life who had been nothing but loving to you.

And whilst you thought of memories of your pa and William, the air in the cottage shifted.

Aemond dried his hands and turned to face you, his posture stiff, face pulled into a hard line, “You didn’t tell me that Dalton was pursuing you. You would let me leave on his ship with him without saying as much?”

There was something in his eye and the way that he spoke that made you shift on your feet nervously.

You began to pull your coat from your shoulders, “Pursuing is an exaggeration.” You lied to yourself, “Dalton has no desire to ask for my hand, nor has he ever expressed any desire. His family are Lord’s. He himself is a Lord. His family would never approve of my-“

“-But he wants you.” Aemond said lowly, stepping forward, looking down at you from his nose, “Desires you. I heard William say that he seeks you out, asks after you. It’s clear there is something there between you.”

Your brows furrowed, “Do you make a habit of listening in on others conversations? There is nothing between me and Dalton. I have known him all my life, and to this day nothing has happened. He is scarcely in town, always on the seas exploring new lands, new women. His interest in me is purely physical, I assure you.”

“And is it reciprocated?”

You blanched, blinking up at him, “Reciprocated?”

Aemond’s jaw twitched as he looked down at you, “Do you desire him in the way he desires you? Do you wish for him to touch you?” His voice dropped lower as he stepped towards you, hand coming to tuck loose strands of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering at the skin of your neck, “To taste you?”

You couldn’t think.

Couldn’t breathe.

Stuck to the floor as you looked up at the silver haired man whom you now realised was jealous.

His lilac eye had darkened as he looked down his nose at you, sharp features illuminated harshly by the fire behind him. His lips were pulled into a stiff line, and his chest rose and fell shallowly.

“Well?”

You blinked again, and cleared your throat softly, “No.” You whispered quietly to the room, watched as his brows furrowed in disbelief, “Once I had.” You admitted watching as his jaw ticked, “But that was before I met you. It feels a long time ago, and it was merely a passing thought, one bred by the desire to not be alone.”

At your words, Aemond seemed to relax, his lips softened and brow evened out, though his jaw remained clenched, “And are you alone?”

Your head cocked to the side.

Alone?

But he was standing right with you.

Right in front of you.

“No?”

Aemond huffed a small humourless laugh at your response, clearly you had misunderstood him.

“Do you feel lonely? With me here?”

You licked your lips, feeling the warmth of his body come closer as he stepped forward, fingers at your neck sliding to the back, tangling themselves into your hair as he pulled you closer. His mouth was a breath apart from yours, his eye on your lips as you heaved uneven lungfuls, waiting for your answer.

You tilted your head upwards, lips brushing against his softly, the feeling sending warmth settling into your gut as you chased his embrace. But Aemond did not let you close the gap, and moved his lips away, awaiting your answer yet again.

As soft as a whisper came your answer.

“Not anymore.”

Aemond’s lips met yours as soon as the words left your mouth, chasing yours in a heated kiss, the hand at the back of your neck tangling in your hair tightly as he pulled you impossibly closer, other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you against him, almost lifting you onto his own feet.

His lips felt like a breath of fresh air, a fire within you set ablaze with each passing moment. You chased after him as much as he chased after you, your hands desperately pulling his tunic closer to you, neck craned up on your tip toes to reach.

The sailors hands came to the front of your dress, teeth nipping at your bottom lip causing you to gasp. His tongue took advantage of your parted lips, licking into your mouth at the opening. You moaned warmly, feeling his hands pause at the buttons at the front of your dress. You nodded sharply, not willing to part from him to verbally give an answer.

With practised ease, he began to pull at the buttons one by one, slowly opening the front of your gown. When it was finally undone down to your navel, you parted for air, a wave of realisation crashing over you.

“The lamp.” You breathed breathlessly, rearing your head back to look up at Aemond, night had begun to fall outside.

His eye was half lidded, pupil expanded across the lilac, and a soft pink dusted on his cheeks, “Already lit.” He mumbled before crashing his lips back against yours.

You made a startled squeak, and wondered briefly when he had had the time to go light it in your absence. But any lingering questioning you had were lost when his large hands scooped under the front of your collarbones and up to your shoulders, slowly sliding the gown down your torso, freeing your arms as he went.

He stepped back to look over you, goosebumps rising on your skin as his heated gaze roamed over your breasts and body. His lips were pink and swollen from your embrace, and the pupil of his eye expanded.

Feeling a spur of confidence, you undid the small belted laces at the back, letting the heavy dress and skirts fall to the ground beneath you in a puddle.

Aemond was on you in a second, the room tilting as you were suddenly picked up, legs automatically wrapping around Aemond’s hips as he hungrily kissed you, all teeth and tongue and impatience, neediness bleeding through the both of you in a rush of desire.

It was as though wildfire had caught in the space between, and it burnt at you both hotly, the flames licking higher and higher on your bodies, an all consuming need.

Your need for him burnt.

“Bed.” He murmured into your lips, speedily walking to the room before he dropped you onto the bed with a bounce.

You gazed up at him through your lashes and watched as he pulled his tunic from over his head with one hand in one swift movement, your eyes roaming down his lean body.

Pale littering of scars were on his chest and arms, and your gaze moved lower still to the trail of hair that lead to what was beneath his breeches, the memory of it causing your core to clench around nothing.

Aemond breathed heavily looking down at you before he pulled you to the edge by your feet, a squeak rising from your chest as he loomed over you.

With haste, Aemond unlaced your boots, throwing them away alongside the stockings he rolled down your legs impatiently. Then came your stays, which did not survive his large, weather worn hands, which tore the laces from their holes, ripping the material at the seams.

You gasped loudly as he did it, not truly knowing the strength he had hidden, which was then smothered by his wanting mouth, body climbing on top of you as he kissed and nipped sharply at your lips with his teeth, hips pressing down into your own as he ground into you.

Heat settled in your gut with each thrust of his hips, his hardening length brushing against your sensitive pearl each time, sending shooting sparks of pleasure up your spine. The kiss consumed you, heat rising in the room as the both of you gripped and pulled at each other desperately, Aemond only breaking the kiss to pave a path down your neck, stopping every so often to suck or bite at your flesh, marking you which caused you to mewl beneath him.

He sunk lower and lower on the bed, pulling up your slip with his hands as he settled between your thighs once again, your hands gripping the sheets of the bed as you looked down at him. His eye was already on you, watching your face as he breathed cool breaths against your bare core.

You whimpered as he blew air onto it, cold on your throbbing bud as he smirked up at you, “Sīr lōz.”, He cooed, swiping two fingers gently up your slit, parting your folds.

A finger pressed down on you, watching with delight as you squirmed beneath him. You bucked your hips up towards his lips shyly as he blew against you again, smirking at how you whimpered and writhed, desperate to alleviate the ache that had been building within since he captured your lips with his.

“Is something wrong?” Aemond smirked, rubbing his fingers through your folds, but never quite touching you were you needed him.

“Please.” You whispered, hips seeking his fingers desperately.

“Please, what?"

You shut your eyes tightly, embarrassment coursing through you, "Please, Aemond."

The man chuckled gently, pressing a kiss just above where you needed him, watching as your eyes opened to look down at him again.

"Syt ao? Mirros.”

Aemond ducked his head between your thighs, hand on either side of your thighs, holding you open for him as he licked a wide stripe up your centre, tongue flicking against your bud.

Your back arched from the bed, eyes screwed shut as pleasure shot through you. The Targaryen moaned into your folds, beginning to lap at them hungrily, thumbs holding you open for him so that he focused on your pearl.

“Iksā sīr vok syt nyke.” Aemond groaned, two long fingers finding your entrance, slowly beginning to push inside of you.

Your breath hitched as they entered, immediately curling up to the soft spongey spot inside of you that he found last time, memorising each and every inch of your body and the reactions that you made when he licked, sucked, pressed or rubbed against it.

The sounds he made as he lapped at your core was filthy, depraved, and down right ravenous, moaning into your cunt as pleasure wound tightly in your belly, his ministrations slowly but surely pulling you towards the edge, no doubt assisted by his low rumblings in his mother tongue.

“Nyke jorrāelagon ao.” He gasped against your thigh, watching his fingers disappear inside of you as he began to fuck them at a faster pace, wetness coating your thighs and the bed beneath you “Gaomā daor gīmigon ziry,” He kissed at your thigh looking up into your eyes with an intensity that made the breath in your chest still, “Yn iksi vēttan naejot sagon.”

Your hips bucked, one hand releasing the sheets to card through his hair, his lilac eye momentarily shutting as you pulled lightly at the strands, a hum vibrating his chest, “Common tongue, please.”

“More tongue?” Aemond responded cheekily, eyebrow raised at you, and before you could quip back, he was back to using his mouth on you, sucking your pearl into his mouth as his fingers did not slow, the tension in your gut about the break.

“Oh.” You breathed, mouth open, “Oh Gods. Oh- fucking Hells.” Pleasure raced through you violently, and a long pealing whine flitted from your lips as you reached your peak.

Aemond sucked your bud into his mouth as he flicked his tongue against it, fingers fucking inside of you speedily through it, the wet squelching of your release loud in the room with each thrust of his hand. Your grip in his hair tightened and you pulled, still falling from the precipice he had brought you to, a deep grunt vibrating into your already sensitive core.

“Aemond- Nng- Please. Slow down.” You whined, writhing as the pleasure soon turned borderline painful, too overstimulated to function.

With a final broad wipe of his tongue, the silver haired man ceased his movements, allowing for your body to finally slump into the pillows, a light sheen of sweat covering you.

Your eyes slid shut as you huffed a laugh, whimpering lightly when he pulled his fingers from within you. Aemond placed wet kisses to the top of you mound, your hip bones, and then to your stomach which he revealed by pulling your slip up your body.

Only did your eyes re-open when he kept lifting the slip up over your breasts, his mouth coming down to capture a pert nipple in his mouth. He rolled it with his tongue, teeth lightly holding it in place as he slotted his hips against you once again.

You moaned, hands sliding down his sides to his breeches which were still very much on his hips.

“Off.” You breathed, tugging at his pants, his mouth releasing your nipple with a soft pop.

“Patience, byka perzys.” Little flame, Aemond chuckled, shifting to drag his breeches down his legs, kicking them off the bed along with his boots.

When he laid back against you, his hands moved to your shift again, pulling it over your head, leaving the two of you bare before each other once again. His head dipped and captured your lips, the taste of yourself on his tongue tart and musky.

Swiftly, Aemond used his thighs to part your own, moving them over the top of his as he lined the hard tip of his cock up with your soaked entrance.

Without pause, Aemond slid inside of you, catching your gasp in his mouth as you stretched around him. There was only the slightest of stings this time, your body far more relaxed than the first time.

The head of his cock pressed against your cervix snugly as he pushed to the hilt, the feeling of fullness spreading within you and up through your gut. You don't think that you could ever get used to such a feeling, such an all encompassing fullness that would forever shock you.

Aemond didn’t wait to give you a chance to adjust, and began to thrust himself through your silky walls immediately, sparks of pleasure beginning rippling up your body. A large hand held your hip, whilst the other buried itself in your hair, tilting your head further back for him to dive his tongue into your mouth, flicking at your own as you messily grabbed and kissed one another.

Feeling yourself begin to jolt up the bed, you lifted your legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him deeper and closer to you, desperate whine moving through you as his hips clapped against yours.

It was frenzied, fiery, and with each smack of his hips, you felt your wetness spread against his thighs and hair at the base of his length, his pelvis rubbing against your sensitive nub.

“Sīr ȳrda.” He moaned, head dipping into the crux of your neck, hand on your hip skimming to the globe of your ass, squeezing it as he fucked you harder, grunts spilling from his lips growing louder.

“You feel so good.” You whimpered, hands clawing at his back sharply as you felt a familiar coil within begin to wind again, “Please.”

Aemond raised his head to look down at you, your gaze meeting his. With his thumb, Aemond began to swirl small, wet circles into your pearl, accelerating your oncoming release. The lilac of his eye looked almost black as he lowered his voice to you.

“Take it from me.”

Pleasure coursed through your veins. Blinding white heat pummelling through you as you reached your peak below him.

“There you go.” He cooed, watching as your release crashed over you.

Aemond tumbled over the edge with you with a cry. Your nails dug into his back as he sped up, looking down intently, mouth slack as he watched you come apart from below, not once breaking your locked gaze.

His forehead pressed into yours as he slowed, the throbbing of his length inside you and warmth of his spend filling you causing a smaller wave of pleasure to race through you, your walls clamping down onto him. Aemond hissed before coming to a stop, the both of you panting heavily, bodies going slack, the weight of him on top bringing you an odd sense of comfort.

Carefully Aemond rolled off of you, his cock sliding out from your sensitive walls as he lay on his back, pulling you into his side to tuck your head beneath his.

You curled into him immediately, as though you had done it a million times before, fitting perfectly at his side. You wrapped an arm around his middle, lifting a leg to hook over his hips, which he held and sooth his his hand.

Your entire body was buzzing with the after mass of your release, limbs feeling heavier than they once were. The two of you sweaty and satiated, whilst small little huffs of joy breathed into the space as you both fell into a comfortable rest.

Another week goes by, and soon enough, it had been almost a month since Aemond washed ashore on your island.

Almost a month since the largest storm you had seen raged across the horizon and into the headlands.

Almost a month since you had nursed a man back from death and back to the living.

Almost a month since your heart began to grow fond of the man.

Almost a month since you had grown content with Aemond’s presence.

Things had changed again, not in any negative way, but things became more passionate, more heated, more tender.

Aemond would touch you whenever he could, hold you whenever he could, hand pressed against yours. Lips to yours, or your cheek, or forehead, and his his hands would seek you in gentle caresses that would set you alight and wanting for more.

And he always gave you more.

He seemed to be insatiable, never quite getting his fill, and whatever he had awoken inside of you was equal in fever.

You noted that his personal preference was to be between your thighs, lapping at your folds whenever he could, pulling peak after peak from you whether on your bed, or the couch, against the table or walls or doors or kitchen bench. And even, on one occasion, in the lighthouse, pressed against the bricks with a leg hitched over his shoulder.

Aemond never seemed to get enough of it, always insisting on it before he would sink himself inside of you. You had asked him why once, and he had flushed, stating that it was to prepare you, but when you had asked again, he said that there was no greater sweetness in all the lands he had travelled to than your, so eloquently put, cunt.

Not that you minded, in fact, it began to be a favourite pass time of your own.

When you had woken that morning, it wasn’t to your usual bodily clock, rising before the sun after years of habit, but rather to the warm and wet sensation that prodded and swiped between your legs.

You rose with a moan, and then a deeper one as you found Aemond between your thighs kissing your centre like a man starved. It didn’t take him long to get you to reach your peak, and when you had, he had smiled almost smugly, and stated that that was all he needed to eat for the day.

But the newfound intimacy and exploring each others bodies wasn’t all that you enjoyed in your shifting tides together. Each moment spent with Aemond you learnt more about him. Piece by piece he would reveal new information to you. A new memory, a new story, a new piece of knowledge about the mysterious man that you would itemise and lock away in the back of your mind to create a larger picture of the man in front of you.

You spent hours reading together when not working, for double the hands makes for swift work, and you found that for the first time in your life, you had the ability to sit down, to breathe, to not have every waking moment thinking about the lighthouse and only the lighthouse. And in those moments of breath and thought, you realised how much you truly had been missing out on in life.

You had thought you had been content alone, but the more time you spent with him, the more time you spent reading or hearing about his own adventures, you realised, much to your dismay, how you longed to do the same. But you couldn’t ever leave, for no-one would man the lighthouse after you, at least no-one you would know to be so proficient. Unless it was William himself, but he had a wife and daughters and a job of his own, and you would never ask him to do such a thing for your selfish wants and imagination.

And so you were content in savouring each moment you had with the sailor whilst he was still there, laughing loudly over whiskey as he told you of a story of his older brother losing a wooden sword match with one of his nephews, or another time in which his brother Aegon had grown so drunk at a family event, that two maids had to assist him to bed, dropping him halfway up the stairs as they went.

You learnt that his sister, Helaena, was a sweet and gentle woman with a soft and kind heart. She had, what he called, a nervous or paranoid disposition, and often believed her dreams that things were to happen, the family taking no notice to her fretting. Though he did note, with an ashen face, that she had warned him once about a danger beneath the eye.

Had she meant the eye he lost?

Or the eye of the storm which led to his ships demise, and almost his own?

Aemond did not know.

His mother, you learnt, Alicent, was a stern and pious woman, heavily religious and intent on him performing his duties and marrying a young Lady from a neighbouring land. Though at times she seemed to be somewhat overbearing and traditional in his retellings, when he spoke of her, there was a deep fondness in his eye, and it made you all the more disappointed in yourself for having kept him away from them.

During his stay, Aemond kept his promise to you, teaching you what he could of High Valyrian when you had the chance. It was a struggle to start, but you picked it up quicker than you had thought you would.

He would praise you for your pronunciation, which only led you to want to do better for him, his words of affirmation doing something to your heart and body, which resulted in you mumbling words and phrases beneath your breath every chance you had to perfect them.

You also learnt that he had an older sister, estranged, not talked about and something that was clearly a taboo for the sailor, but when he did mention her, it was to note that her High Valyrian was more advanced as their father had spent ample time teaching her, but not his four other children.

Aemond was, for the most part, self taught, besides the help of a lone tutor which Aemond noted was poorly.

Each time he shared a piece of himself to you, your heart longed to go with him, to see the famed Keep where his family resided. To meet his mother Alicent who was such an important person in his life, as well as his sister Helaena. You wished to meet Aegon, to see if he truly was as bumbling as Aemond had told you.

You wished to see the foods they had, imported from foreign lands you couldn’t pronounce, to walk the Gardens of the Keep, to see the ashen barked Weirwood tree in his Godswood, to try a starfruit, which Aemond had a craving for almost every second day, the shape and flavour a wonder to you.

You wished to be a part of his life, a part of his family, and a tiny, foolish part of you thought that perhaps you could. But the more rational side knew that it could not be, that you were of low rank, and you could not leave the lighthouse unmanned, and as each day passed with this heavy revelation, came the looming of a dark cloud above you.

The fresh scones you had made were still soft and fresh, Celia’s jam spread thickly on top as a treat for the both of you that morning. The cottage was cold, but the heat of the fire radiated warmth around the two of you, a subtle wind whistling past the windows outside.

Despite the bright mood the two of you had, started by Aemond waking you up between your thighs, that cloud still loomed over the top of you, dread and anticipation of what was to come nipping at you like a hound.

“Celia makes great jam. I should like to thank her one day.” Aemond hummed, popping a small broken piece of scone into his mouth to chew, licking the jam off the pad of his thumb after he swallowed.

You nodded, smiling, though it didn’t reach your eyes, “You should thank her yourself in person. I am sure she would like to meet a real Targaryen.”

His eye searched your face, “One day.”

“But when?” You swallowed, preparing your speech which you had practiced over and over in a loop in your head, finding some way that would make him want to stay, to make him want you.

The silver haired man frowned, placing the rest of his scone on his plate as he sat himself straighter, “When?”

“Yes. When.” The lump in your throat grew larger with each passing second, “You have a family, duties, a life. Your mother must be beside herself with worry and grief, and I fear that I am taking you from that. I fear I am creating pain for you all.”

“Taking me?” Aemond sounded confused, eye swiftly searching your face as you straightened in your chair.

“I do not wish to…force you to stay here, or corrupt you into thinking I could be anything other than this.” You watched as his frown deepened, lips pulling into a thin line, “I cannot keep you here as much as I wish to.”

His frown softened, “You wish for me to stay?”

“Kessa.” (Yes) You said quietly, “But I know it is not the reality we live in. You are a Lord, I am-“

“-Why do you always bring up my rank?”

“Because it means something. If your family found out that you have been here, with someone like me, the talk alone could ruin your potential list of decent wives. Your future. I fear I have already tainted-“

“-Tainted?”

“Yes, I-“

“-Why do you believe yourself to ever be capable of tainting me?” Aemond’s voice was stern, colder than before, as though angry at your words. You looked down at the table shyly, focusing on the scone smeared with jam.

“You do not think you could stay here forever, do you?”

Aemond huffed air through his nose, “I can do whatever I like. Go where I please, see who I wish. For now, my family believes me to be dead, and even if I was known to be hale and healthy, I can still do as I please.”

“But your mother-“

“-My mother,” Aemond began, voice softening, “Will one day come to understand.”

You shook your head, confusion coursing through you, “I don’t understand.”

Aemond’s jaw tensed, teeth pressing sharply against each other before he adjusted himself to sit even more impossibly straighter, “Do you believe in the Gods?”

Your eyebrows knitted together, “Of course. I would not have prayed to them if I did not.”

“Then you must believe the Gods control our paths and fate.”

Paths and fate?

What was he talking about?

“Yes, I believe so. But I don’t understand what the Gods have to do with you needing to go home.”

Aemond took a deep breath through his nose, his hand on the table as fingers flexed and then curled back into a fist, dropping into his lap out of sight, “My ship sunk for a reason. I do not believe that it happened without purpose. I drowned and came back for a reason. You prayed to the Gods to save me, and they did.” His tongue peeked out of his lips to wet them, and your heart began to race in your chest, “The Gods gave me a second chance at life and brought me straight to you.” He shook his head, silver locks falling over his shoulders, “Before you, I was unhappy, but with you? I have never been so content. So… at peace.”

Tears prickled at your eyes, your own hands twisting in your lap, “Please do not say such things to me, Sir. My heart cannot bear it.”

Aemond leant forward, “But it is the truth. And mine own heart cannot bear the thought of leaving here. Of leaving you.”

A tear fell from your eye, sliding wetly down your cheek as you looked at him, his figure blurred in your vision, “You cannot want me.”

“I can. And I do.”

A sob fell from your lips as you looked at him, “This is cruelty, Aemond. You cannot- You can’t- Your family would never allow it. You cannot say these things to me, do not give me false hope. Do not give me reason to believe.”

Aemond's hand lifted on top of the table, palm up, offered to you.

You looked at his palm, and the soft smooth skin there, and wished to mark it. You wished to mark him so that he could never leave, so that he could never be without you without evidence of you existing.

“False hope would be to say that I could ever leave here with my heart intact.” His hand waited for you on the table, “Please.”

Another tear fell from your cheek, “You cannot want a life like this. You cannot want a life with me. I have no money, I cannot ever leave, I would never trap you here with me.”

“You could never trap me in the first place. I am yours.”

I am yours.

Another sob fell from your lips, chest aching at the thought of losing him, at the thought of him leaving you. That this declaration would be for naught, that he had not truly thought this over, but deep inside of you, you hoped, dreamed, begged the Gods for his words to be true.

Aemond’s hand slid off the table and back into his lap as he stared at you, silence creeping across the table.

“I am just as much yours. Irrevocably.” You breathed, watching as relief flooded Aemond’s face, “But I cannot ask this of you. Not when you lose so much if you do.”

Aemond stood from his seat, swiftly coming towards you where he knelt in front of you, forcefully taking your hand in his as he looked up into your tear filled eyes. His thumb brushed over your knuckles soothingly, his other hand briefly coming to swipe a tear from your cheek before meeting the other that held yours.

“You are not asking me to do anything, byka perzys.” His words came swiftly, eye searching your face as tear after tear fell down your cheeks, “And if you were, I would do it. A thousands times over, I would do it. If you asked me to walk back into the sea, I would do it. For you, I would do it.”

“Aemond,” You shook your head sadly, mouth opening again to argue, but he interrupted you.

“-I want to stay.” His hands gripped yours tighter, “Here. With you. I want to be with you. Always.” He swallowed thickly, “If you’ll have me.”

Your blood thumped loudly in your ears as you looked at him. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t speak, mind going a thousand miles an hour.

He wanted to stay.

He wanted to stay here.

With you.

“Please do not turn me away. The fate of the seas would be kinder.” His voice cracked, and your heart ached.

There was no turning back, no moving from this conversation without an outcome.

It all just depended on which path you wished to go. Which path your heart ached for most, and that was for him to stay. But would it come without consequences? Would his decision to stay be a mistake he would come to resent you for?

You had nothing to lose, he had everything to.

But the way he was looking at you, the way he was patiently and nervously awaiting your answer, watching as tears continued to fall from your eyes, not just out of grief, but sheer overwhelming love for the man knelt before you, offering all that he was, sacrificing all that he had, and for you.

A small smile cracked on your lips, and you watched as his eye became hopeful. Your hand lifted to his cheek, caressing it softly to cup his jaw as you looked him over; his lilac eye, the sharp aquiline of his nose, the way his plump lips pulled sharply at its peaks. Never in your dreams could you have imagined such a man, and never in your life did you think to imagine that a man such as him could be yours.

And it was in that moment that you made your decision.

You smiled, small sobbing laugh escaping your lips as you rubbed a thumb against his skin, feeling the smooth stubble beneath it, “The Gods brought you to me.” You whispered, eyes searching his face for any sign of regret or trepidation, and when you found none, you continued, “Who am I to turn you away?”

And there it was, that full smile that you had grown to love.

Aemond’s lips pulled widely revealing his teeth as he beamed up at you.

Never had you felt such joy, such elation inside of you at the sight, your heart feeling as though it became full, a fire settling into your chest raging as it always did with him, for he always made it feel as though he set you alight.

“Avy jorrāelan.” Aemond declared softly with a smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners, lilac dancing with admiration, the unseeing eye reflecting the light of the sun outside like a cloudy morning sky.

He sat up on his knees and leant forward, face coming towards you before his eye shut, and his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Your hands grabbed his face, and he did yours, diving his fingers into your hair, holding you to him gently as he slowly sought your lips with his own.

It was not rushed, it was not frantic, but patient, the both of you knowing that you were no longer running on limited time. No longer stealing moments together before the end.

No longer was there a looming departure of his presence in your life, and as though a breeze from outside swept inside the house, the dark looming cloud that had situated itself above you cleared.

When finally did you part, breathless and giddy, a curiosity took over.

“What does that mean?” You questioned, burning desire to know eating away at you, “What you said?”

And there was that smile once more, and you knew in your heart what it meant after that.

“You will know soon enough.”

Translations:

Sīr lōz - So wet

Syt ao? Mirros - For you? Anything

Iksā sīr vok syt nyke - You are so perfect for me

Nyke jorrāelagon ao. I need you

Gaomā daor gīmigon ziry, Yn iksi vēttan naejot sagon - You do not know it, but we are made to be.

Sīr ȳrda - So tight

Avy jorrāelan - I love you

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the general tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@blackswxnn @marihoneywk @targaryenrealnessdarling @namelesslosers @aemondsfavouritebastard @dahlias-and-marigolds @aemondsbabygirl @toodlesxcuddles @jemmaagentofshield @malfoytargaryen @bellaisasleep @aaprilshowers @assortedseaglass @elizarbell @xpersephonex @lijeno @likeanecho344 @coffeeobsessedtrencher @diannnnsss @lexwolfhale @notasockpuppetaccount @at-a-rax-ia @spinachtz@marysucks-blog @generalkenobitrash @zenka69 @shygardengalaxy-blog @kittendoll05 @300nightmare003

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x y/n #hotd fanfic #lighthouse!Aemond #asumofwords lighthouse #sailor!aemond #LighthouseKeeper!reader #sailor!Aemond x reader #Sailor!Aemond #LighthouseKeeper!Reader #Asumofwords Lighthouse #shipwreck!aemond

381 notes · View notes

bongo-clash · 2 years

Text

Peacock Au Part 3

(Part One & Two here!!!)

Continuation of the Eldritch Danny DPxDC fic!!!! This is Kind Of the final chapter but Bones has also been making my brain go So Wild with other ideas so!!! Big chance they'll be more parts at some point (probably after Ectober week if I do!!)

Either Way Here It Is

(Fic under cut!!) (+ Part 4 Here)

Constantine makes the executive decision not to explain anything to Batman until the other League members are gathered in the watchtower meeting room. Maybe not his best choice, evidenced for the most part by the seething glare the vigilante is shooting him from his place at the head of the table, but still, John really doesn’t want to have to talk about this any more than he has to. It’s already going to be a pain in his side as is.

It doesn’t take long for the rest to appear through the zeta tubes. Superman and Wonder Woman predictably arriving first of the lot, followed by Zatanna, the Flash, and then Green Lantern. Once they’re all settled and he figures this is all the people that’ll be showing up today, he deigns to begin speaking. He might’ve appreciated a bit of a higher attendance rate, but he’ll take it.

“Alright, you lot,” He starts, just as the Green Lantern opens his mouth, likely to ask what this whole meeting is for. “I believe we’ve got a little bit of a situation on our hands.”

“Situation how, Constantine.” Batman asks, eyes narrowed behind the cowl, the furthest thing from a question.

Constantine sighs deeply, fingers fidgeting in his coat pocket for a cigarette even if he knows he can’t smoke in the watchtower (maybe he could just hold one…). In lieu of looking the man in the face, however, he addresses everyone else in the room. “Well, see, the Bat here had a Pit forming in his territory, and he decided it’d be a bloody brilliant idea to call me for help instead of literally anyone else. The good news is the Pit’s gone. The bad news is I’m pretty sure the thing that got rid of it is worse.”

A few of them make faces, since if Constantine’s involved then this is definitely a magic problem, and none of them are fans of magic problems- Superman looks like he’s trying not to twitch. “Can you describe it?”

“Not properly, no. Big, bright, bit of a space theme going on? Had these horrible things on them, kept changing between eyes and mouths and hands- used those to reach out and get rid of the Lazarus Pit, ‘far as I could see. They knew I was doing it for the Big Bat even though I never said a word about it, and from what I understand, they wanted a favour for sorting it out. I don’t know what they want it for.”

Batman’s face is unreadable, but there’s a scrutiny there that permeates the air around him. “So you discovered the existence of a powerful, unknown entity, and not only did you deign to summon it into our world, but you then proceeded to make a deal with it as well, completely unaware of the potential consequences.”

“In my defence,” Constantine retorts. “This is entirely your fault for getting me involved. I’ve no clue why you thought coming to me was a solid plan in the first place.”

There’s a storm brewing beneath that bat mask, but Wonder Woman intercepts before it can descend into a full-blown argument. “Now is no time to be assigning blame, we need a plan. Do you know of any way we can attain more information on this being, Constantine?”

“Not the foggiest,” He replies simply. “The only thing the book said was that it could help with the Pits. When I asked the damn thing what it was, it just gave me a riddle and, quite frankly, I wasn’t going to push it. So unless Zatanna has anything, I’ve got nothing.”

The whole table turns to look at Zatanna. She has a contemplative look on her face, pausing for the moment presumably to run through the information in her head. “Well, there’s a lot of entities around whose existences centre on keeping the balance between realms or concepts, but this is the first I’ve heard about anything like this. The closest thing I could think of is maybe Pariah Dark, since he’s known to have a connection to the Lazarus Pits, but he’s been out of commission for centuries now, and he’s never been depicted at all the way you described…”

“…And I know for a fact that his summoning ritual requires a blood sacrifice, and this thing didn’t want blood.” Constantine finishes.

Zatanna makes a sour face, seeming to understand his implications, and the remaining non-magic members of the JL look appropriately disturbed. He thinks the worst thing about it for them is probably that there’s no real way to plan this out. They’ve got no power list, no strengths, no weaknesses, they don’t even really know what the entity is beyond its relation to the Lazarus Pits and even that’s an area of questionability, because the Pits are damn confusing on their own. If this thing shows up on them now, they’re screwed.

And just as the thought crosses his mind, there’s a tangible shift in the watchtower atmosphere, like the air’s thinning and closing in on itself at the same time. He looks at Zatanna with matching confusion, praying to gods he’s never met and that don’t like him that he hasn’t just managed to jinx himself in the worst way possible.

“Do you feel that?” He says, and it doesn’t look like it’s only the other magic user in the room that does, because a fair few of the remaining League are pulling expressions Constantine really doesn’t like. Please, please say he hasn’t jinxed himself.

There’s a sound like whale song and whistling as something comes up through the floor, and there’s not enough languages on Earth or beyond to encapsulate how many swears John wants to say right now.

But it’s not the entity.

Or at least, it doesn’t look like the entity, even if it certainly feels like it. It kind of looks like a teenager, of all the awful things. They have flare-white hair, bright, sheepish green eyes, and they’re wearing what Constantine thinks is a hazmat suit but doesn’t know enough about hazardous material protection to say for certain. No alarms going off, no doors opening or shutting, no signals at all; just a weird breeze, and the few seconds of warning that gives before the being appeared. That’s worrying. The way the League doesn’t even say anything is more so.

“Hi,” They start, after what feels like an eternity of silence, and oh boy, they really do sound about twelve. Constantine doesn’t know how to deal with children, let alone ones that can just phase into the most secure superhero base in Earth’s orbit. This is awful. “Okay, so, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot yesterday, so I just wanted to, y’know, rectify my first impression? Uh, sorry if I came across sort of… weird.”

Everyone looks at the glowing kid. Everyone looks at each other. No one knows what to say. Flash decides to be the one to break the silence with a cough. “That’s great, kid! Uh… who are you, though?”

“Oh!” They startle. “Right. Me and Constantine met yesterday- I think I kind of scared him? It was by accident, though, I promise! I’d just had a long day, y’know? I didn’t know I was gonna get summoned and I wasn’t thinking so everything just kind of happened.”

No way.

No. No way in Hell.

“You are not that thing I summoned yesterday.”

And he knows, he knows entities like that tend to have forms more palatable for mortal eyes, but after seeing that yesterday, his brain just cannot for the life of it connect it to this. This child floating mid-air in a base he shouldn’t be able to access, with big huge earnest eyes and a painfully youthful face. One that seems to have reached a realisation.

“Ah,” He says, smile just a little bit wry. “Fair enough, I did look kinda different then. Just- here, this should look a little more familiar?”

It’s not a full shift. He doesn’t contort into the same mind-searing thing that Constantine had had to bear yesterday- but his eyes scatter into neon spots across his face, nose and mouth left intact, the neck of his jumpsuit folds into the creases of an open eye, and those peacock-membrane-whatevers fall into fruition on his back, drifting like a cape or like spines. And just to top it all off, there’s a dinky little crown floating above his head, decorated with icicles and whispers of mist.

It’s not a full shift, but Constantine’s never going to forget those damn cosmic peacock feathers. No mistaking it: that’s the entity. Forget yesterday, this is the worst day of his life.

“What the Hell is happening right now.” Green Lantern flatlines, face dulled into non-understanding. Constantine thinks he feels the same way but worse.

He takes a deep, cleansing breath, and tries not to scream. “You’re the one who sorted the Pit problem out?”

“Uh, yep, that’s me.”

“Okay, great! Fantastic. Can you tell me what the Hell that whole deal was?”

What’s left of the maybe teenager’s face drops somewhat, and a gloved hand reaches up to rub at the back of what’s left of his neck. “Ha, right, yeah sorry.” He mumbles, and Constantine kind of feels bad, but he’s also still kind of suffering from the adrenaline high of meeting the guy yesterday, so he guesses they’re even now.

“So, I mean, I don’t usually look like that? It is my true form or whatever, but I’m not really… I don’t hang about in it too often. Gives people the heebie jeebies, y’know? I don’t want to scare people out of nowhere, especially not for a first meeting! But I was about to go to sleep last night when you summoned me, and I wanted to shift my form a little just to be more formal about the whole thing, but I guess I let the whole thing go by accident, and I didn’t realise at all until I got home. And if I was in that form by accident- I usually go with ghostspeak during summonings ‘cause it’s easier in that way and there’s usually translation sigils embedded in the circle- but if I was in that form by accident, then I was probably using a different dialect to the one I thought I was, so if I sounded kind of off, then that’s why. Again, really sorry about that. This was totally not how I wanted my first impression with the Justice League to go. You’re all really cool, y’know? I wanted to get off on the right foot and not the ‘let’s fight each other’ foot.”

Constantine blinks, opens his mouth, closes his mouth, and then blinks again. He’s sure there’s a reasonable response to this that can be expressed in a sentence somewhere, but right now he’s too enamoured with how utterly absurd this is. He genuinely, honestly does not know what’s worse: that this kid can turn into that, or that he can turn into that and it’s so natural he doesn’t even notice.

Still, as consistent as the sun sets, Batman’s the first one to break the stupor, interjecting with narrowed eyes. “How do we know you’re not a threat to us? We don’t even know who you are.”

“Uh,” The kid splutters. “I didn’t introduce myself. My name’s Danny.”

“Danny.” Batman replies flatly.

“It’s a nice name!” Danny, apparently, defends, looking about as stupefied as someone can without eyes on their face. The dinky little crown drifts after him when he moves his head. “And, um, I don’t know how to prove I’m not a threat? I mean, I closed up that Lazarus Pit for you, if that counts as being helpful in a non-threatening way?”

If anything, Constantine would think that makes someone more threatening. “You said you wanted a favour for it, that you were going to ‘find your recompense’.”

“No I didn’t?” Danny says incredulously, before he pauses and his lips part in an O. “Right, translation error, duh. I uh, didn’t actually say that, that’s just how the sigils took it I think. You don’t owe me anything. It might be nice to get some help if I’m ever in a bind or something, but we didn’t make a deal or a pact or anything, you just asked for help, so I helped.

His brain completely shuts down, blue-screen style. This isn’t how this type of thing goes. There’s no way this is that easy. “You seriously don’t want anything.”

“I mean, an autograph might be nice. My friend thinks you and batman are cool.”

“You don’t think the rest of us are cool?” Flash complains, because that’s exactly what he’s supposed to be getting out of this conversation and not how utterly insane it is.

Danny, the kid that’s going to be giving him nightmares and is already giving him migraines, has the audacity to look embarrassed. “I think you’re cool; obviously you’re all cool, you’re the Justice League! My friend’s just into the edgier members, I guess? She’s goth.”

“Oh? So who’s your favourite?” Why is no one acknowledging that the incomprehensible cosmic horror just called him edgy. Why are they just moving past this.

“…Martian Manhunter and Green Lantern. I really like space.”

Yeah, no shit, he’s made of it.

Constantine genuinely wants to pass out. He wants Batman to get him over the head with a batarang; he wants Superman to tap him on the forehead and give him a concussion, just- anything not to be here right now. This might not even be the weirdest thing that’s happened to him, but he’s hating every minute of it. This kid’s talking and existing like it’s nothing but even as the conversation begins to border on casual the atmosphere is still thick, nearly physical with the chill and the chiming of bells and the way something shifts every time those peacock feathers waver behind him.

Right now, John really, truly does not care if this entity’s playing some kind of twisted long con to trick them into sacrificing their souls or something equally as horrifying. He just wants to go home and forget anything ever happened. “So, you’re not a malicious entity.” Constantine states finally, putting an end to any further back-and-forth that he’d managed to tune out.

“I promise you I’m not.” Danny replies seriously, even as his features shift back to something more human-looking that only seems like it’s trying and failing to hide something bigger underneath it now.

Constantine puts his hands in his pockets, and turns straight to the door. “Brilliant news. I’m leaving now. I hope we never have to see each other again.” The League and that kid can do whatever they want, but Constantine swears on everything he holds sacred that he’s not touching any of it with a ten-foot pole. He never wants to have to deal with anything like this again, and he is never agreeing to do Batman another favour.

#sorry it's late!!! I've had a Weird™ few days #Also sorry if it reads a bit funky or anything I tried my best #I really want to do more for this au though so hopefully I'll be posting about it again in November after Ectober week!!#Maybe even for that DPxDC event!!#dp fic #dp fanfic #danny phantom fic #danny phantom fanfiction #dpxdc #ghost king danny #(Implied)#eldritch danny #danny phantom #john constantine #Bongo's Aus!!!#Bongo's Writing!!!#peacock au

1K notes · View notes

c-e-d-dreamer · 21 days

Text

When We Howl, the Moon Will Cower: Chapter 4

A/N: I'd say I'm sorry this chapter is so long, but I feel like no one actually wants to hear that. We've got a little bit of everything! Cassian getting his ass handed to him. Nessian banter. Mama A being the worst. And SMUT! Anyways, hope everyone enjoys

Additional note: I'm really sorry to everyone on my tag list. Tumblr won't let me tag any accounts for some reason. It won't let me select when I paste it in and it keeps saying "no blogs found" when I try typing manually which I know is a damn lie 😭

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Cassian

Cassian watches as Nesta works through the combination, fists hitting against Cresseida’s raised palms. Her hair is tied back in a braid that runs down her back, the strands swishing across her shoulder blades with each movement and glinting beneath the rays of the afternoon sun. She’s been at it for a while, pink coloring the apples of her cheeks and stretching down her throat to her collarbones, and even from where he’s standing, Cassian can see the beads of sweat speckled across her skin.

Before he can stop them, his thoughts start to spiral down and down. He still remembers the last time he saw that sheen along her skin. Still remembers exactly how far down that flush can go. His body still too keyed-up after sleeping beside her the night before. He has to tilt his head up toward the sky with a sigh, determined to cool the heat sparking and simmering in his veins.

When Cassian focuses his attention back down, Nesta and Cresseida have moved on to sword practice. Wooden sword in hand, Nesta moves first slowly then with more speed through the steps Cresseida directs. Cassian keeps waiting for Cresseida to correct Nesta’s stance, but after the fourth repetition, he can’t take it any longer, striding across the training rings.

“Watch your foot.”

Nesta sighs at the sound of his voice, dropping her wooden sword to her side and turning to him with an unimpressed expression. “What?”

“Your foot. You’re turning it inward each time you lunge,” Cassian explains, gesturing down toward the foot in question. “You’ll lose strength and control doing that.”

Nesta glances down to her own feet, and Cassian wonders briefly if she intends to ignore the advice out of pure stubbornness, out of pure, witchy spite. Another way for her to pull one over on him while they’re trapped in this blazing wildfire burning around them, between them. But instead, surprisingly, Nesta readjusts her stance, shifting her foot so it faces forward.

“Thanks,” Nesta mutters, raising her sword again to work through the same sequence. “Did you need something else then?”

“Just trying to help, sweetheart.”

“And yet, I don’t recall ever asking for it.”

“Cassian!”

Cassian turns at the call of his name, finding Baz just outside the training rings. For once, there’s no smile on his third’s face, his brown eyes missing their usual, playful spark. It has cold dread flooding through Cassian’s limbs, crystalizing between his ribs until the weight twists and presses in. He breathes through the churning in his gut, but his muscles feel tense, his lips pressed into a grim line by the time Baz reaches him.

“What’s happened?” Cassian demands, skipping right past pleasantries.

“Alistair and Cormac have returned,” Baz explains.

Cassian sighs softly, squinting back toward the village and the rows of cabins, his mind reeling over this news. There’s no denying the relief that floods through him, the way it soothes the fear that always sparks within him every time they send out scouts. But what did they see? What information are they bringing back? It’s a stark reminder of the storm clouds looming just over the horizon, of the thunder shaking the ground beneath Cassian’s feet, beneath the pack’s security.

Nodding to himself, Cassian turns his attention back to Baz. “Gather the elders. We’ll meet immediately.”

“Already on it.”

Baz turns on his heels, jogging away, and Cassian watches him go before making his way toward the meeting hall with another sigh. Anxiety prickles across his skin at what they’ll learn, what will be discussed. He makes it a few steps outside of the training rings when the sound of a second set of footsteps reaches his ears, Cassian stopping short. He turns to find Nesta walking beside him, her brows furrowing at their sudden halt.

“What are you doing?” Cassian asks, gesturing back toward the training rings. “Go back to training with Cresseida.”

“It sounds like there’s important news, clearly an important meeting,” Nesta offers, peering up at him as if it’s obvious.

“And?”

“And? And I’m joining you.”

Cassian scoffs, crossing his arms. “You’re not attending this meeting.”

“What,” Nesta snaps dryly, her tone low and incredulous. “Why not?”

“I’m not having a witch in the room when we discuss pack business.”

Cassian is certain that the glare Nesta settles him with would cut down a lesser man where he stands. The blue of her eyes is pure ice, a fire burning in them and promising to swallow him whole in a blazing storm. She steps closer to him, her chest brushing against his own with every annoyed, heaving breath, lip pulled back in a sneer.

“I am your wife,” Nesta reminds him, words cold and clipped.

Cassian leans down until they’re eye to eye, offering a glare of his own. “I didn’t choose you.”

This close together, Cassian catches it, the way her mask slips for just a moment. He almost thinks he imagined it, that flash of emotion in her eyes, before the fury returns. He doesn't dare look down, look away from her gaze, but he can feel the sparks of silver flames prickling across his skin where their hands hang a hairsbreadth apart. He resets his stance, shifting his feet and preparing for the impact of her magic.

“You’re a godsdamned bastard,” Nesta seethes.

She doesn’t say anything else, surprisingly keeping a leash on her magic and her rage. Instead, she turns on her heel, stalking back toward Cresseida on the other side of the training rings. Cresseida meets Cassian’s gaze briefly, shaking her head, before holding out the wooden sword for Nesta to take again. But Cassian doesn’t have time for disappointment or other’s opinions on what he should or shouldn’t do.

On how he should or shouldn’t run his pack.

He winds his way through the village until he reaches the meeting hall. Baz and Emerie are already standing outside, and he offers them both a nod in greeting.

“Are all the elders gathered?”

“Everyone’s gathered and ready, yeah,” Baz explains, glancing behind him to the open doorway.

“Where's Nesta?” Emerie asks, looking pointedly over Cassian’s shoulder as though she expects the witch to appear.

“Hell if I know,” Cassian shrugs, moving to step forward into the meeting hall but Emerie is quick to step directly into his path, blocking him. He rolls his eyes. “Last I left her, she was at the training rings with Cresseida.”

“Should we wait for her before we start, then? One of us can go grab her,” Baz offers.

Cassian lets out a derisive snort. “Why would we wait for her? She’s not attending a pack meeting.”

The cold look Emerie settles him with rivals Nesta’s. “She’s your wife.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Did everyone forget that I didn’t choose her?”

“Did you forget that she didn’t choose this either?” Emerie demands, smacking him hard in the chest. “You were there. Her mother practically sold her and her sisters like cattle. I thought I already told your dumbass you need to respect her.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Cassian growls, side stepping around Emerie and into the meeting hall. “Let’s go.”

“Fucking idiot…”

~ * * * ~

The sigh that tumbles past Cassian’s lips is heavy, icy claws sinking into his lungs and drawing blood with the exhale. He digs his fingers through his hair, the strands already starting to knot with how many times he’s repeated the gesture. The map continues to lay splayed out across the wood of the table in front of him, and all he can do is stare at it, blink at it.

“We’ll have to inform the vamps and the Vanserras,” Baz’s voice draws Cassian from his quickly spiraling thoughts. “We can’t keep this information to ourselves.”

“A temple,” Emerie whispers, almost to herself. “What kind of evil do you have to be to attack and destroy a temple?”

“If Cormac is right, they got whatever they were looking for,” Cassian comments, leaning forward over the map and sliding his finger along the parchment, along the ink of the lines, the trees and the mountains. “Hybern’s even more dangerous now, and we need to be ready. We need to up our defenses along the western lines, make sure our warning system gives us as much time as possible.”

“You really think Hybern would try something? Attack the pack directly?” Baz asks, a hollowness taking over his usual sunny expression.

“Mother knows what Hybern is thinking or planning,” Cassian says, pushing back up to his feet. “But I’m not willing to risk it. Not willing to risk our pack.”

Emerie nods in agreement, the weight of what Cormac and Alistair described finding at the temple clearly still pressing on her even as she defiantly holds her chin up high. “I’ll make sure the new orders are delivered and implemented.”

“Tomorrow,” Cassian offers, giving Emerie’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “We’ll worry about implementing everything tomorrow. I think we all could use a night off after that.”

“And maybe a drink,” Baz mutters, the barest hint of a smile starting to return.

Cassian chuckles softly, unable to deny the idea sounds appealing. He has a bottle of whiskey back at his cabin that’s smooth and aged, and it might just be calling his name. “And maybe that too.”

Cassian rolls up the map and returns it the rightful place, following his second and third out the door the elders vacated what feels like hours ago. True to his teasing words, Baz heads for the pack’s favorite watering hole, Emerie vanishing toward her cabin to find her wife. It leaves Cassian to make the trek back to his own cabin alone.

The meeting lasted for hours, darkness having now blanketed across the village. The clouds shimmer and shift across the face of the moon, the silver light rippling like waves across the grass where it bleeds through, casting shadows over the trees and cabins. He just hopes it means that Nesta may have already retired for the night. The last thing he wants after that meeting is to rehash an argument with her.

He’s already dreaming of a tall glass of whiskey, of settling before the fire and relaxing at least for one night, as he makes his way up the steps to his cabin. He reaches forward for the handle of the front door, but a shock jolts through his fingertips, skittering up his arm and through his entire body. His eyebrows pinch, and he shakes out the pins and needles before trying again, only to earn the same reaction, his every muscle tensing in response.

“What the fuck…”

Cassian raises his hand, carefully, slowly, pressing his palm forward. The magic glimmers around his touch, spreading outward in silver swirls that Cassian suspects must be some sort of runes. They stretch all the way up and around the cabin like a shield.

A ward.

She’s put a ward around the cabin, locking him out.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Nesta?” Cassian shouts, loud enough she can hear him from wherever she is inside. “Let me in!”

Only silence answers Cassian, mocks him.

“Nesta, I know you can hear me! This isn’t fucking funny.”

Cassian growls in frustration when there’s still no response. He slams a fist against the ward, but the magic seems to give back whatever impact thrown at it, silver flaring around him and the force sending him stumbling back a few steps. He scrubs a hand through his hair and down his face, sending a silent prayer up to the Mother. He doesn’t know how long his stubborn witch of a wife intends to let him stew, but it’s clear that it’s going to be a long night.

~ * * * ~

Nesta

Nesta tugs on the strands of her hair, shifting them until they sit how she wants. She holds them steady in place, plucking the pin from between her teeth and sliding it between the strands. Examining her work in the mirror, she hums quietly in approval, finally stepping back and toward the door. She winds her way through the cabin and to the front door, but her steps stop short when she pulls it open.

Cassian is curled up on his side, his back to the door. One arm is tucked up beneath his head, cheek pillowed on his bicep, and his hair is a tangled mess all around his face. For a moment, Nesta can do nothing but gape, nothing but blink in surprise at the sight of him here in front of the door. When she’d warded the cabin last night, she assumed that he’d find somewhere else to sleep, perhaps crash with Baz wherever the third’s cabin is.

Guilt begins to spool in Nesta’s gut, but then she remembers everything that happened yesterday. She remembers how Cassian seems set on locking her out of everything involving this pack. As if being isolated from her family through this farce of a marriage wasn’t bad enough, she’s stuck being just as isolated here thanks to her dear husband. As if Hybern and its king aren’t as much of a threat to her as they are to Cassian and the pack.

All of the anger and rage from yesterday blazes back through Nesta’s veins like a wildfire, and she raises her chin, stepping right over Cassian’s still sleeping form. Hopefully, now, the alpha has learned his lesson. He wants to play games and shut her out of everything, then he can enjoy sleeping outside in the cold and being shut out of his own cabin.

“Nesta.”

Nesta sighs, pausing just two steps down from the cabin. She turns around just in time to watch Cassian scramble up to his feet. Despite not being in his wolf form, his eyes still glow golden, furious in the way they spark and blaze. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, brows pinched down low as he glares at her.

Nesta raises a sardonic brow, not giving him an inch with her cool expression. “Sleep well? Who knew you took your inner wolf so seriously that you take to sleeping outside now.”

“Do you think this is a fucking joke?” Cassian growls, fists clenching at his sides.

“I don’t know. Did you think yesterday was a fucking joke?”

Cassian scoffs, but Nesta has heard enough. She spins on her heel and continues down the steps that lead away from the cabin and back toward the village.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“Emerie is waiting for me with a carriage,” Nesta explains, not stopping or turning around. “I don’t want to be late for tea with my sisters.”

She can feel Cassian’s ire following her the whole way, burning a brand into her spine. The low sound of his growl practically echoes in her ears. It has a self-satisfied smirk tugging up Nesta’s lips the whole rest of the way, and if Emerie notices her expression, she thankfully doesn’t comment on it as Nesta climbs inside the carriage, as it carries them away from the village.

It feels almost strange to be back at the Archeron manor, to peer up at the dark red brick, the spires, and the climbing ivy through the carriage window. Almost subconsciously, her thumb slides across the slightly raised skin on the back of her left hand, tracing the scar back and forth. A deep breath in and out, and Nesta opens the carriage door, stepping out and into the misty morning light.

She walks up the front steps, the front door swinging open right before she reaches it. At least, the magic imbued within the wood and brick of the house still recognizes her. Nesta steps inside, instantly greeted by the familiar smells of fresh lavender, ginger, and basil, and follows the halls all the way to the sunroom at the back of the manor.

The round table in the room is already covered in a white, lace tablecloth, a steaming teapot placed at the center. Elinor sits primly in the seat directly across from the doorway back into the main house, hair neatly and harshly tugged back away from her face and chin raised high. As soon as Nesta steps inside, her mother’s cool eyes are pinning her in place.

“Mama,” Nesta greets quietly.

Feyre is already settled in the seat directly to Elinor’s right, so Nesta takes the seat across from their mother. She chances a glance toward her youngest sister, but Feyre has her eyes cast downward, staring intently at her plate. Nesta doesn’t miss the way Feyre chews on her bottom lip, the way she aimlessly pushes around her eggs, even as her grip on her fork is white knuckled.

Giving her hands something to do, Nesta reaches forward for the teapot, pouring herself a cup. Thankfully, just as she’s taking a sip, Elain steps inside the sunroom, brown eyes wide and almost nervous as they flit around the table. She’s quick to settle into the final seat beside Nesta, fingers twisting and fisting into the skirts of her dress.

“My girls,” Elinor begins, taking the time to look at all three of them. “Back together again. Have you all been well?”

Feyre’s eyes flash up at the question, but Nesta is quick to jump in. “I’m sure we’re all still adjusting, Mama.”

Elinor hums, Nesta’s fingers twitching and tensing in response to the disapproving sound. She has to shake the urge to trace that scar on the back of her hand again, that sound and what typically followed it still haunting and prickling in the back of Nesta’s mind.

“And what have we learned, hm?” Elinor continues, folding her hands neatly in front of her. “The rumors say that Rhysand’s numbers are beyond what we’ve been led to believe. Is it true? Are there more vampires than we know?”

“How would I know that, Mama?” Feyre sighs softly.

“You’re his wife now, are you not? And what about the wolves?” Elinor asks, her attention snapping to Nesta. “There’s long been stories of their training, of their strength.”

“I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary with the pack,” Nesta explains, trying to hold her mother’s gaze but dropping her eyes to the dark swirls of her tea.

“And how about the Vanserras? And their coven’s spellbook?”

“I… I haven’t seen any spellbook, Mama,” Elain murmurs, her voice quiet.

Elinor sighs, and Nesta tries to brace for whatever is coming. “I give you girls everything that you need, set you and this family up, and this is what you offer me?”

“Mama…” Nesta starts, prepared to place herself in front of her sisters and in the line of fire with their mother if need be.

“You all have to be better. You’re Archeron women for the Mother’s sake.”

“Are we? Since you married us off,” Feyre mutters under her breath, but not quiet enough that their mother doesn’t hear.

“You insolent child,” Elinor seethes, turning her ire on her youngest daughter. “I am making you all stronger, ensuring you can take your birthright. And you’re ungrateful?” She takes a calming breath, smoothing out the lines of her skirts. “I expect you all to be better than this moving forward. At least I see you haven’t allowed the vampire bite, nor the wolf mating bite. That’s good. Elain?”

Elain’s grip on her skirts is near white-knuckled beneath the table, pink beginning to spill through her cheeks. With each second of silence that stretches around them, Nesta frowns in confusion, trying to surreptitiously reach toward her sister in comfort without their mother noticing.

“Elain,” Elinor repeats, her voice clipped.

Another tense moment passes, but then Elain slowly lifts her hands, placing them palm up on the table. The pink line across her left palm is unmistakable, still slightly puckered and not fully healed. A bonding spell, a witch’s equivalent of tying two souls together through blood and magic.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Elain whispers, wincing when Elinor’s fingers curl around her wrist in a tight grip. “It was Eris. He insisted that Lucien and I do it.”

The response has Nesta even more confused. Elain has never been a particularly good liar, neither when they were girls and she was stealing cookies and sweets from the kitchen nor when they were teens and she was sneaking out to meet Graysen Nolan in town. And Nesta knows that Elain is lying now; although, she has no idea why.

“What were you thinking, Elain? This type of stupidity is beneath you.”

“Please, Mama. You’re hurting me.”

“Do you have any idea what this means? What you’ve done? You’re an Archeron, dammit, not some Vanserra’s tramp. Marriage or not, I will not have you tarnishing this family’s name.”

Elinor releases Elain’s wrist, crescent shaped indentations embedded in the skin from her nails. Elain clutches her hand back to her chest, cradling her wrist. Anger sparks and flares in Nesta’s chest in her sister’s defense. She glares across the table at their mother, but Elinor’s focus stays glued on Elain. The biting words sit heavy on the tip of Nesta’s tongue, poised and ready to fire without a second thought for the consequences, for what she knows it would mean to bring Elinor’s ire back her way.

As long as it’s off Elain and Feyre.

But before Nesta can say anything, Elinor pushes up to her feet. She looks down her nose at all three of her daughters, a cruel queen and her subjects. “Remember your place, remember what is expected of you as an Archeron, and do not fail me again.”

~ * * * ~

Nesta is quiet the entire carriage ride back to the pack’s village. She can feel Emerie’s curious gaze watching her from the seat across from her, but Nesta keeps her eyes firmly out the window. She watches the leaves and the trees shift and morph as they move past, her mother’s words, the whole morning, still playing over and over in her mind.

She’s an Archeron woman. A witch who comes from a long line of proud, powerful women. One of three sisters said to be blessed by the Mother herself. No matter that she’s a married woman now. No matter that she and Cassian may one day be amicable. No matter what the pack might one day mean to her. An Archeron is what her mother expects her to be, and Nesta will not fail her.

She will not be a failure again.

“Are you alright?” Emerie finally dares to break the quiet to ask. “You seem… tense.”

“I’m fine,” Nesta dismisses curtly. “Besides, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“You’re the alpha’s wife. You might be surprised, but that actually means something to me.”

The words take Nesta by surprise, and she turns her attention to the second, blinking a few times before remembering herself. “Thanks.”

Emerie shrugs like it’s easy, like it doesn’t mean anything, but it does to Nesta. It makes her feel like she may be less alone in the pack after all. She’s about to ask Emerie if she likes to read, to see if they may share any interests, but the carriage pulls to a stop. Emerie is quick to hop out, holding the door open for Nesta to step down as well.

“I promised Cresseida I’d relieve her from shop duty as soon as I got back,” Emerie explains, waving off the carriage. “You’ll be alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Emerie’s gaze sweeps over Nesta, like she doesn’t quite believe the words, but she doesn’t comment or say anything else. With a nod of her head, she heads toward the market square. Left alone, Nesta takes a moment for herself. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in, allowing the scent of the trees and the moss around her to fill her senses. The peace this deep into the forest licks at her wounds in a soothing way she doesn’t expect, has that magic within her settling like a beast returning home.

Home.

Is that what this place is now? Between her grandmother and her mother, the Archeron manor certainly never truly felt like a home. Nesta has never really felt like she had a home, not a true one,at least. When she was younger, she used to read stories of sweeping romances and believed that she could find one just like the women between those pages. Her mother always said they were nothing more than fairytale dreams, always chastised her when she had her nose in those books.

Maybe that was one thing Elinor was right about.

Sighing softly to herself, Nesta rolls her shoulders and starts along the winding path through the village, back toward the alpha cabin on the top of the hill. When she pushes through the front door, she’s surprised to find Cassian standing in the kitchen. He looks just as surprised to see her, but then his expression changes, morphs into rage with the way his lips pull back in a snarl, the way his hazel eyes flare and narrow.

Nesta had almost forgotten about Cassian, certainly forgotten about their previous argument and the ward she’d placed around the cabin last night. She’d been too caught up in her mother and her sisters, between the disaster that was tea this morning. But it’s clear that Cassian hasn’t, and it all comes crashing back to Nesta as she takes in the way he’s glaring at her.

It’s the perfect distraction.

“I see you got yourself back inside after all,” Nesta comments idly, turning her back on him and removing her shoes and her cloak.

“We need to talk about last night.”

“What’s there to talk about? I thought it was rather fitting. Perhaps, we should build you a dog house.”

Nesta turns back around, offering her best saccharine smile, knowing it’s exactly the thing to get under his skin and fuel the fire. To draw out the pull to her push until they’re burning together and everything else fades away with those flames. But Cassian merely tilts his head, watching her in that unnerving way of his as though he can see right through her. It has Nesta’s hackles raising.

“Do you want to play, Nes?” Cassian drawls, taking slow, measured steps closer to her.

“Play? There’s no playing. You’re insufferable.”

“Insufferable? That’s weak, even for you.”

Nesta scowls up at him, daring to close that final step between them until they’re toe to toe. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. Is that the worst you’ve got? I’ve been called much worse than that, sweetheart.”

“Like what?” Nesta asks, any other cutting words dying on her tongue.

“Offended on my behalf?” Cassian fires back, reaching a hand up between them to cradle her jaw, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip.

The teasing tone has the scowl returning in an instant, Nesta smacking his hand away. “Perhaps, I want to shake the person’s hand. Exchange ideas.”

“Ideas?” Cassian continues to tease, walking Nesta back until her back hits the wall.

“Yes. Ideas I could have shared in the pack meeting yesterday.”

Any teasing drops away completely from Cassian’s expression as he rolls his eyes. “Back to that, are we? It’s my pack, remember? Did you forget who the alpha is?”

“Did you forget I’m your wife? I should have been in that meeting.”

“Oh, you want to be my wife, now? How about you be a good little wife and get on your knees and suck my cock?”

The words are crude, all but snarled in her face, but that doesn’t seem to stop the way Nesta’s body responds. She still remembers that cock all too well. Remembers the way it had felt fucking into her. Remembers the way his knot had stretched her. Remembers the delicious ache between her thighs that remained for the entire next day.

But she’ll be damned if she lets Cassian know all that.

“Fuck you,” she snarls instead, shoving at his chest, but of course his large frame in unmoving.

“You’ve certainly forgotten how good a wolf’s sense of smell is,” Cassian tells her, leaning down over her with a cocksure smirk. “You think I can’t notice the sweet scent of your arousal? Do you want to suck my cock, sweetheart?”

“It’s clear you certainly want me to.”

Nesta shifts her hand, reaching down to grip Cassian’s cock through his pants. He hisses at the contact, but she can feel how he’s already half hard, can feel the way he twitches against her palm. It’s clear he’s getting off on their back and forth just as much as she is. She rubs her hand up and down, squeezing when she reaches the head of his cock.

Cassian continues to swell beneath her ministrations, and Nesta can’t help but lick her lips. How would the weight of him on her tongue feel? How would he taste? Just the thought has her clenching her thighs, desperate for friction, for relief, beneath the skirts of her dress. There’s a hunger yawning in the space between her ribs, clawing and gnawing at her chest, and she sees that same hunger echoes in Cassian’s own burning gaze, in his darkening hazel eyes.

“The no kissing rule still applies,” Nesta tells him, pulling her hand away so she can focus on the laces of her dress. “This is just sex.”

“Just sex,” Cassian agrees, reaching a hand back to fist in his shirt, tugging it up and off.

Nesta’s dress has barely hit the floor in a crumple of fabric before Cassian is pressing fully into her space. His hands find her thighs, fingers spread wide and digging into her skin, and he hauls her up off the ground with ease. He turns on his heel, only taking a few long strides before he deposits Nesta on the kitchen table, the wood pressing against her back.

Cassian takes his time roving his eyes over her, tracing down her throat and collarbones, lingering on her heaving chest and her peaked nipples, following down her stomach and between her spread legs. He dares to reach his hand forward, shadowing that same path with two fingers. It’s a spark catching, goosebumps erupting across Nesta’s skin as she arches up against that touch.

“So pretty flushed like this,” Cassian comments idly, using those same two fingers to toy with the waistband of her undergarments. “Good enough to eat.”

Cassian gathers up his hair in his hands, tugging it away from his face and securing it with a leather band, before he slowly drops down to his knees. His fingers curl around Nesta’s ankles, calluses along his palms sliding up her calves, over her knees, up her thighs. He pries her legs further apart, leaning in until even through the fabric separating them still, Nesta can feel the ghost of his hot breath against her cunt, until he can lick a thick line over the dampness that’s already gathered there.

Cassian groans softly, giving her cunt another lick. “And oh so sweet too. Who knew just the thought of sucking my cock would have you dripping already?”

His hands slide up over her hips, and Nesta can feel the heat of them scorching her skin. She can feel the hint of claws too, teasing and drawing a shudder up her spine. Would he fuck her with those claws? What would that feel like?

The sound of tearing fabric is almost too loud, even over Nesta’s panting breaths. She snaps her attention down just in time to watch what remains of her undergarments fall away. That cocksure grin of his is out in full force, hazel eyes glinting from between her thighs. Normally, Nesta would want to wipe that smirk clean off his face, but right now, all she can think about is the sight of him on his knees before her, about the blissful release that sight promises.

“Cassian,” Nesta whines instead, trying to buck her hips up against his hold. “Please.”

“What a good girl,” Cassian praises, mouthing along Nesta’s inner thigh and drawing a soft whimper from her lips. “Now, keep those eyes on me and keep moaning my name.”

The first slide of Cassian’s tongue against her cunt has Nesta gasping, thighs squeezing instinctively around the alpha’s head. Cassian groans against her, his mouth moving to her clit and tracing slow, tortuous circles over it. Nesta tries to keep her gaze firmly on him, but it feels almost unfair. His wide shoulders bracketed between her thighs, the shorter strands of hair falling out of his updo and along his temples, and his eyes…

His eyes glow golden as though the wolf within him has decided to join as well. As though Nesta truly is the prey caught in the predator’s trap. But she’s not sure she’d rather be anywhere else.

Cassian groans again, and then he really starts to devour her. He fucks his tongue up into her, curling and flicking it along her walls. Nesta feels like she’s burning, every nerve ending blazing and focused on where Cassian’s mouth works her higher and higher. Her feet scrabble desperately for some sort of purchase, against Cassian’s shoulders, against the edge of the table.

“Cass… Cassian… fuck.”

Nesta knows that she’s babbling, knows he’s turned her into a puddle of moans and canting hips, but she can’t find it within herself to care, not with the way he plays her body so well. She slides a hand down to Cassian’s head, holding him right where he is, the other finding her own breast to pinch and tweak her nipple in time with the movements of Cassian’s tongue.

Cassian focuses his attention back on her clit, and that fire blazes hotter until it swallows Nesta whole. Her back arches up fully off the kitchen table, fingers curling tight enough in Cassian’s hair that her nails bite into his scalp. She moans loudly as her release carries her right over the edge, trailing off into a whimper when Cassian continues to lap at her still fluttering cunt until he’s had his fill.

When Cassian finally pulls back, Nesta is forced to release her grip on his hair, her hand falling back to the table with a soft knock. His lips and chin glisten, and he makes a big show of sliding his tongue around his mouth and gathering up the excess. Nesta watches from beneath hooded eyes, that heat in her blood still simmering.

She pulls herself up into a seated position, reaching for the laces of Cassian’s pants. She makes quick work of the knot, pushing the fabric down until it slips from his hips and falls to his feet. Just the sight of his cock bobbing free has her thighs clenching again, has her swallowing hard and licking her lips. She eyes the vein that runs along the underside, the already weeping head, remembering exactly it’ll feel when she sinks back onto it.

Her legs are shaky as she slips off the kitchen table, but she’s able to guide Cassian back until he’s falling into one of the kitchen chairs. She sinks down onto her knees between his spread legs, sliding her hands up over his knees and along his thighs. She drags her nails along the skin, through the coarse hair lining his strong thighs, before finally curling her fingers around his cock, squeezing the base.

“Now this is a sight I could get used to,” Cassian comments, his hips bucking up against her grip. “A good girl on her knees before her husband, ready to take his cock so well.”

Nesta wants to roll her eyes at the words, but there’s no stopping the way her body responds to the praise. She decides to focus on the task at hand, leaning in and licking at the arousal dribbling from Cassian’s cockhead. She moans softly at the salty taste blooming across her tongue, opening her mouth wider to swallow him down. She slides her tongue along the underside, relaxing her throat to take as much as she can and working what she can’t with her hand. The weight of him in her mouth is exactly as unparalleled as Nesta imagined, and she moans around his cock as she starts to bob her head.

Tears start to prickle Nesta’s eyes, but she doesn’t let it deter her, blinking and peering up at Cassian through her eyelashes. His gaze is already pinned on her, lips parted and expression nothing short of enraptured. His dirty mouth is silent now. Nesta almost wishes she could smirk around the way her mouth is stuffed full. She may be the one on her knees, but it’s the pack alpha rendered powerless.

It goes right to her head and right to her cunt.

She widens her stance and dips her free hand between her own thighs. Her fingers slip through the wetness, and she teases her clit briefly before sinking two fingers into her cunt. She tries to match the pace of her fingers with the movements of her mouth, curling her fingers every time she swirls her tongue over the head of Cassian’s cock.

“Gods, look at you,” Cassian’s voice draws her attention back to him. “Go on, sweetheart. Add a third finger. Get yourself nice and ready to take my knot.”

Nesta whines around Cassian’s cock, but she does as she’s told. She presses in a third finger, fucking her cunt hard and desperately. Heat coils low in her gut, her thighs beginning to tremble, and when she dares to press her thumb against her clit, Nesta has to finally pull back from Cassian’s cock. She drops her forehead to his thigh, letting out a high pitched cry as her walls clench around her own fingers, her release making a mess of her own hand.

But still she wants more.

She’s not sure how she manages it, but she pushes back up to her feet. She moves to straddle Cassian’s lap, to finally take what she wants, but she barely gets a single knee up onto the kitchen chair. Cassian’s hand snaps to her throat, fingers pressed hard against her thundering pulse. Her cunt echoes the squeeze of his fingers, clenching around nothing desperately.

“Nice try, Nes,” Cassian leers up at her, keeping his hold of her as he stands up. “But I’m still the one in control here.”

He tightens his grip around her throat briefly, Nesta’s breath catching with the squeeze, before releasing it entirely. He spins her around, her back pressed firmly to his front and her hips digging into the edge of the kitchen table. She can feel his cock still hard and waiting, and Cassian shifts his own hips so that it slips between her thighs, dragging teasingly through the mess of wetness there, along her clit.

Cassian presses his lips to her ear, hot breath skittering across her skin. “Beg for it.”

“Please. Fuck me, please.”

Cassian groans at her words, but still, he doesn’t give her what she wants. His hand slides down her stomach, down between her thighs. He sinks two fingers into her dripping cunt, spreading them and stretching her wide, but it’s not enough. It’s not nearly enough. It’s nothing compared to the real stretch she knows he can give her.

“Do you want my cock, Nes?”

“Yes,” Nesta moans, tilting her hips back to grind more firmly against his cock. “And your knot. Please.”

Cassian’s teeth snag on her earlobe. “Good girl.”

Cassian pulls his fingers free, but Nesta barely has time to whine at the loss before he’s replacing them with his cock. Already, just the stretch of him has stars popping in Nesta’s vision, her cunt fluttering and clenching down around him as though desperate to draw him deeper still, to keep him right there. She feels so incredibly full, her toes curling against the hardwood of the cabin floor.

“Two orgasms already and you’re still so tight around me,” Cassian sighs, pressing between Nesta’s shoulder blades until she’s bent in half over the table. His hands find her ass, fingers digging in against the flesh. “But Mother save me, look at the way you take me so well.”

Nesta whimpers as Cassian pulls his hips back, the slow drag of his cock, but then Cassian is snapping his hips back forward. Again and again he drives into her, setting a hard and fast pace. It’s everything that Nesta needs. Every thrust that has him pressing deeper still, every slap of his hips against her ass, has Nesta keening. She claws at the kitchen table, desperate just for something to hold onto.

As that heat starts to lick up her spine again, her body coiling tighter and tighter like a bow string, Nesta reaches a hand between her hips and the table edge, fingertips trying to catch on her clit despite the jostling. A growl sounds from behind her, fingers curling around her wrist. Cassian yanks her hand away, pressing it to the table and holding it firmly there.

“You’ll come on my knot or not at all.”

It’s a threat and a promise.

Her entire body feels wrung out, but she doesn’t want him to stop. She hopes that he doesn’t stop. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knows she should feel embarrassed at this hunger that cloys in her gut, that flares through her chest, but she can’t find it within herself to care. She wants this. Wants him. Wants his knot.

Her throat feels hoarse with how much the male behind her has made her scream, but there’s no stopping the litany of moans that tumble past her lips. Especially when she starts to feel the swell of Cassian’s knot, feels it catching against the lips of her cunt with every forward thrust.

But he only seems to keep teasing her with it.

The next time that Cassian snaps his hips, Nesta presses her own back to meet him, forcing his knot to sink into her, to properly notch and lock them together.

“Fucking shit,” Cassian groans, dropping his head to her shoulder.

His hands grip Nesta’s hips hard enough to bruise, his cock twitching and flooding her core with warmth. The stretch of his knot, the feeling of being so completely and utterly full, is indescribable, and Nesta clenches down, milking his knot and his cock with a soft moan.

“Still want to be a good little wife, Nes?” Cassian asks, grasping her jaw and pulling her head back against his chest. “Then come all over your husband’s knot.”

His free hand slips down between her thighs, pressing hard against her clit. It’s all it takes for Nesta’s third release of the afternoon to tear through her. She all but screams Cassian’s name, her body trembling through the way his knot still presses against the walls of her cunt, the way she can still feel his cock twitching and filling her deep, the way he doesn’t relent with the rough circles he traces against her clit.

When Cassian releases his hold on her, Nesta is like a marionette with her strings cut, slumping down against the kitchen table with a soft whimper. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, tries to calm her thundering heart and come down from her high. With her cheek pressed to the table, breath puffing against the wood, Nesta allows her eyes to fall shut.

She and Cassian may never be the sort of husband and wife Nesta often dreamt of as a girl, will certainly never have the sort of love she read about in books, but at least they can have this.

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #When We Howl #my fic

66 notes · View notes

dilutedconfusion · 3 months

Text

A Moth to a Flame

Eustass x F!Reader (Part 2)

I’m literally SO happy that ya’ll seemed to enjoy the first chapter of this. Like I’m microscopically close to jumping through the screen and giving ya’ll big consensual forehead smooches. Hopefully ya’ll like where I’m taking this story cause I’m super EXCITED.

Summary: You are still waiting at the docks on your small island in hopes that your intuition was right and something big was about to happen. Regardless of Kid’s freshly amputated arm, curtesy of Benn Beckman, he is hopeful he can find some semblance of rest on your island because everyone knows he needs it. You don’t though and will prove to be a thorn in his side.

Warnings: Light mention of torture

Word Count: 5.5k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Tags: @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @st4rfevrr (If anyone else wants to be tagged for each new chapter just let me know in the comments<3)

You had just finished up the last page of sketches covered in whatever came to your mind. Tulips of course followed by a cicada you’d seen earlier and a few hands for the sake of anatomy practice.

The sun was getting lower in the sky and a web of clouds was rolling in. The original bright blue and hazy sky now cast in puffy gray clouds.

Must’ve rolled in with the wind. You thought, chewing the inside of your cheek and feeling the temperature drop around you by at least a few degrees. Another summer lighting storm.

You started gathering up your supplies. Shoving them back into your satchel in preparation for the downpour that could very well happen. The shipyard nearby was quieting down. The small town you lived in far to laid back to work into the late hours of the afternoon. Each person leaving with the scent of raw sawdust and a little slicker for the incoming rain.

You didn’t really want to go, despite the old man's warnings to keep yourself warm and out of harm's way. You leaned back on the dock with your hands. Looking up at the clouds as you sloshed around the water below with your feet. Feeling a piece of slimy seaweed brush against your calf you kicked it away in disgust. More in love with the feeling of cold water and less with the feeling of clammy plant life.

Eye unfocusing you just stared out.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe nothing is coming. Doubt was starting to creep into your thoughts. This deep root of obsession curling around the base of your spine though this feeling was becoming more and more misplaced.

Or maybe I’m a human weather reporter. Should've guessed my feeling was about some goddamn rain. You let out a weak little chuckle at that. Feeling rather stupid for being so engrossed by something that wasn’t even happening.

Your eyes naturally drifted back down to the horizon. Staring at the distant hazy line and tracing it with your eyes.

Until of course your body froze up and you paused.

Eyes narrowing and body naturally leaning forward you looked out. A speck of something in the distance. Floating at a seemingly even pace towards your humble island.

What the-

You cut yourself off mid-thought. Noticing of course that speck was a ship. Some strange yellow shape at the front of its hull. Black sails raised and thrown forward with the wind.

“Is…is that?” You said to yourself, voice hoarse from disuse. You almost couldn’t believe what you were seeing. The ship is a grand distance away making your eyes struggle to pick out any noticeable details. Everything blurring into a strange mix of colors and shapes.

There’s a flash of purple at the bottom. Strange…red marks at the top of the white. Blue…and yellow squares? You thought, trying to make out the sail.

Pirates. It has to be pirates.

This realization hit you like a train. Hitting your core first before reverberating through your body. Stomach swelling with an almost unmanageable feeling.

This must be it. The feeling. I knew something was coming.

It was relatively normal for pirates to visit your island but for some reason this felt different. It felt new.

“Goddamn it I was right!” You yelled, bolts of electricity shooting up and down your spine. A big bright smile tugging at the corners of your lips. It was strange to be happy over the arrival of pirates but the joy you felt wasn’t something you could swallow down and force yourself to be ashamed of. Sliding your ass off the dock to stand, you continued to stare out at the ever approaching boat.

Turning your head you looked behind you and out onto the island. The docks and shipyard are now void of human life except for yourself. The village, which was a good distance up the trail, had nothing but warm lantern lights and the distant shadows of buildings. The streets barren as people headed for shelter from the incoming storm.

I’m alone. You thought, that feeling crawling on your skin like a slug. It was both terrifying and exhilarating the prospect of being alone.

But what happens when those pirates get here? Who knows what they want? Most just come to restock but…maybe this feeling in my gut is telling me otherwise.

Like something bad is going to happen.

Now here you were, caught between a rock and a hard place. Technically you should go inform somebody about this. There was a few men that guarded this village, one of them being your father.

He’s not going to like this. You thought, knowing all two well how protective that man was.

I mean it makes sense…he knows how a pirates mind works after all.

But on the other hand…you didn’t want to say anything. Not ruin the sanctity of what the village had for the night. Give these pirates the benefit of the doubt just like you had to for the other pirates that came ashore.

Sure…they’re criminals but what’s so wrong about that? Not all criminals are bad. I know that. You told yourself, feeling conflicting morals and pressures on you. You’ve always hated the world government and the marines. You had your personal reasons but in general authority usually didn’t sit right with you. Being close to criminals but not actively being one was a main prospect of your life. Though your father also told you stay clear of anyone you didn’t know. That he wasn’t going to let you get hurt again.

Goddamn it. You were starting to feel a bit guilty that you were even considering staying. To just stand here and put yourself in danger.

Your hands were shaking at your side. Not out of fear but this strange tugging feeling you had on your body. Eyes gliding across the space between you, the sea, and that boat. Willing you towards it. A siren’s call of the wind forcing you to stay.

The boat’s features were becoming more and more defined. You noticed now that the strange yellow blob at its hull was actually a skull. Huge sharp teeth cast in deep shadow from the overcast. It looked like it could easily swallow you whole. Staring into its gaping mouth expecting to see the souls of the damn.

But instead you saw the shape of a man.

Is that a…red puffball?

You squinted your eyes and leaned forward. Placing your hands on your knees trying to decipher what the hell you were looking at.

If I stay here…does that just mean they're going to float on up and dock, only to find a random girl staring at them? That’s…a bad idea for sure. Maybe I should…watch from a distance? Hide maybe?

As you thought this over the boat was only approaching more and more. Its looming height and huge hull cast deep ripples in the sea. It was amazing. The Jolly Roger one you could’ve sworn you’d seen before. Maybe on a newspaper or bounty. But either way the gothic aesthetic was a dark sheen that melded with the gray clouds above. Deep green tones, purples, and the warm glow of lanterns making the whole ship so ominous and captivating.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps, something alluring you towards it. Nearly making you want to jump into the sea to swim towards the boat. You hadn’t been on a boat like that in a long time. Waves of nostalgia wafting over you.

I can’t just stay here on this dock and look like an idiot waiting to get captured. What am I supposed to do? Say “Ahoy there mateys,” and pretend that’s normal?!

But no matter how much you tried, you just wouldn’t move. To get off this dock and hide in the nearby brush was your best bet. Yet you were stuck in place as if your own two feet were deciding your destiny.

So you waited like a petrified stone. Staring out at the boat right on the edge of the dock. Ready to greet whoever was aboard.

__________

Well there's a total idiot within cannon fire distance.

Kid thought, a scowl melded to his face as he stared at a random girl standing at the edge of the dock. He still hasn’t moved from his spot next to the helm. Eyes glued to the island until the moment he noticed a person just standing there.

It had caught him off guard. Scanning the rest of the docks and shipyard with keen eyes to spot no other signs of life. Wondering exactly why she seemed to just be staring at them.

Is she petrified from fear? He thought, gaining a small pleased grin at the corners of his lips. But as they approached closer she didn’t look scared. Her face covered in a small smile though it had a nervous curl around its edges.

Oh, so she is just stupid. He thought with a little grunt, going back to that same scowl. His lack of eyebrow raising in mild confusion.

“Who is that?” Heat muttered still softly guiding the ship towards the dock. The wood groaned a bit at the smooth meandering pace.

“Don’t know. Maybe she’s here to greet us. Offer up chocolates and a warm towel.” Kid grumbled out, turning around in one swift motion to head towards the door back onto the main deck. Heat let out a little chuckle at that as he stroked back his blue locks. Taking note of his Captain leaving with tracing eyes.

“Want me to dock right next to her?” Heat asked, knowing full well there were three docks he could choose from. Each with enough space to hold their mass of a ship.

Kid paused, his boots stopping in place as he barely turned his head to look back at Heat. His face quizzical for only a moment, eyes rolling as he faced forward once more. “Go ahead.” He murmured, finally grabbing the door handle and stepping out of the room.

The wide expanse of his main deck was thrust upon him. Walking out onto it to find a good number of his crewmates sitting around idly. The sound of playing cards flipping and quiet conversation floating across the deck.

Kid sauntered towards his first mate, who was standing by the banister at the edge of the Victoria. His back leaned up against it and a small notebook in hand.

“Did you give everyone their lists?” Kid asked, sliding up next to Killer. His single hand grabbing onto the banister as he stared out at sea.

“Yep. Everyone knows what to get. We’ll be fully stocked in at least two days most likely.” Killer’s voice sounded a bit raspy, using his free hand to clip the pen he was holding to the notebook before sliding it in his back pocket.

Kid let out a low grunt of an answer. Still stuck on staring out at the incoming island. That figure of a woman making his stomach churn for whatever reason. Killer silently watched Kid next to him. Staring at him through the holes of his mask.

“Quit staring.” Kid glanced at Killer, not even moving his head before looking back at sea. Killer’s body shifted in response, turning his body out towards the sea to mirror Kids.

Killer didn’t speak for a moment, not willing to apologize considering there was a pretty good reason to be staring.

Killer could see the slightly more purple and deep bags under Kids eyes. Or the way his skin seemed just a few shades paler than usual. No matter how much he tried, Kid hadn’t been eating or drinking consistently. Too concerned to concoct a blueprint for his perfect prosthetic arm. That paired with a huge gaping wound and a decent amount of scars would not prove well. Killer knew that and had talked to Kid about it. Kid had gotten angry and shut himself in his workshop for a whole day.

So though Killer wanted to pester him he decided against it. Instead he glanced at that girl. Watching how Kids eyes glided to her.

“Strange isn’t it? We never have anyone to greet us.” Killer finally spoke, breaking the silence between them.

Kid didn’t reply, eyes narrowed in that usual scowl he often held. So Killer spoke once more, “Doesn’t look like a marine. But either way it doesn’t matter.”

Kid finally glanced at Killer, eyes tracing his partner's mask a tiny bit before responding. “I’ll kill her myself if she’s a problem. That’s why it doesn't matter.”

__________

OH shit here we go.

This was it. Or at least it felt like it was.

The boat was fucking huge. That looming presence almost became suffocating as it floated towards your dock. The huge mast touching the clouds from your perspective as your chin was forced to tilt upwards. It wasn’t the biggest boat you’ve seen. But it's the biggest boat to dock on your humble island in a while.

The waves crashing against the docks and splashing up on you just a tiny bit. A loud clunking noise was heard, drawing your attention to the lower side of the hull to spot a huge anchor. Sinking down into the sea with a loud splash, the chain wider than your arm.

So enamored by the ship you didn’t notice the two men watching you at first. Their eyes fixed on your presence as they stared down at you. Eerie shadows cast on the hills and bumps of their features.

Eventually you did glance up at them, turning your body more to face the boat as it groaned and settled next to your dinky dock. A bright blush and a twitchy smile smearing across your face.

Should I say something? You thought, panic flooding your veins as the two men leered at you. The one on the right was unfamiliar. His blue and white striped mask was a bit demeaning as you couldn’t tell the expression he was making. Tan arms crossed over his wide chest. One, you noticed, covered in some kind of scars.

The other man must’ve been the one before. That red puffball you saw was actually his fur coat hanging loosely on his shoulders. His hair spiked red, helping with the fluff ball illusion. It was nerve wracking to make eye-contact with him considering he was giving one hard scowl. Those low amber eyes of his nearly poking holes through your soul. But when you caught a glimpse of his arm, or moreover lack of arm, your eyes softened.

Pirates. Always getting hurt aren’t they? You thought to yourself before deciding it was best not to stare and just say something. Even if you sounded stupid.

“Hello!” You yelled, making sure they could hear you from their height. Your voice is a tiny bit higher than usual from the nerves.

The one in the mask didn’t move an inch, showing no indication he even heard what you had said. But his partner clearly did, the skin of his eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“What the fuck do you want?” He yelled out, his voice so low you could’ve sworn you felt the dock shake. It made you blush up more. Both his rudeness and voice catch you off guard.

Your mouth went agape to speak but you didn’t say anything right away. Taking a second to try and concoct something that sounded half-way normal.

“Uhh…nothing. Nothing from you. Just an onlooker. Here to greet you.” You tried to explain, fiddling with your hands a tiny bit.

An onlooker? Seriously? That’s the best you can come up with? You scold yourself. It was true but you really didn’t want to admit you were just standing here out of morbid curiosity.

The redhead gaze only got more annoyed. Jaw visibly tightening a bit. “Well we’re not a fucking zoo and we don’t need your greeting. Go stare at somebody else.” He said, his words sounding more like a command set in stone.

He abruptly turned around and walked away from your line of sight. Going deeper on deck as you heard a loud rousing of multiple people’s footsteps.

Right. There’s a whole lot of people up there. Not just two scary men. You chewed your lip, looking down at the sea before glancing back up. The masked man surprisingly was still staring down at you. Quiet as a mouse but clearly studying you for whatever reason. It made your body tense up, hoping he would stop whatever he was doing and thankfully he did.

But as soon as he turned around, a plank slid down off the edge of the banister of the ship. Your body jumped at the sudden loud sound and you instinctively clutched your chest. Your habit of getting jump-scared easily kicking in.

The plank was towards the middle of the dock whilst you stood at the end. Feeling awkward you backed up a tiny bit, just waiting for somebody to stride down and rip you to shreds.

That same spiked fluff of red hair walked down first. It suddenly clicked in your brain that he must be the Captain. The Jolly Roger a dead give away now that you actually put two and two together. He eyed you as he finally stepped down on the dock, his crew members following behind but walking past him towards the island.

“Did you even hear what I said? Get lost!” Kid stated, his teeth snarling a bit as his frustration rose.

You blinked at him in almost genuine surprise. He clearly wanted nothing to do with you. Which was a reasonable feeling yes but the fact that he was being so upfront about it rubbed you the wrong way. Especially since you wanted to be nothing but kind and didn’t even bother to go warn anyone of their arrival.

Your eyes narrowed in annoyance as you spoke,“I’m not doing anything wrong. I just got curious.”

“Well you and you’re stupid curiousity can get fucked.” Kid spat, not even taking a second to try and understand what you had just said. It was very apparent to you that he viewed you as a nuisance. Making you cringe in near defeat.

But something else boiled inside you. Not appreciating one bit that a man was talking to you like that. You were timid at times, sure. But you were also a total bitch. Putting your hands on your hip and furrowing your brows you glared at him.

“Excuse me? I clearly think this is interesting if I’m standing here in the line of fire. I live on this island and have every right to eye anyone who washes up on shore. So if you have such a problem with that then you need to check yourself, buddy. You don’t get to tell me what to do.” You spat back at him with a lot more force.

The sudden change in your tone made the redhead freeze. Red painted lips turning to a thin line as he just stared at you. Clearly thinking over what to say or whether he should just knock you out.

This was really testing his patience. In all honesty all he wanted to do was get inland, find a bar, drink until his brain buzzed and then go back to his ship to pass out.

So he paused, willing his exhausted brain to actually try to break down what you said. Hearing that you were stroking his ego by finding ‘this interesting’ was enticing. But that attitude written all over the way you acted was something he’d like to wipe off with your own blood. But when he thought past his urges and felt how his stump was starting to ache, he backtracked. Deeming you not worth his time.

“Whatever. Touch my ship and you're dead. I don’t even want to fucking look at you so back off.” Kid grumbled out, turning away from you to start heading down the dock.

A bolt of pain shot through his arm. Like a headache in the most inconvenient place ever. Forcing him to grunt and stumble just a tiny bit as he walked. The man in the mask followed suit after the redhead. Turning his mask to give you a sparing glance before walking in stride with his companion.

You stood there dumbfounded. Fists clenching at your sides by the way he just brushed you off. Sure he had every right to. You were just being nosy after all but that didn’t mean he needed to treat you like that.

Is a little human fucking decency too much to ask for?

You really didn’t know what to do. Looking up to notice the spare glance from a rather large man with a combed back mohawk. He was standing up on the deck as he grabbed the plank off the dock and slid it back into the ship. Small beady eyes glaring at you in a defensive manner. “Move along,” he said with a slight snarl.

Your lips turned into a soft frown and you just started walking. Not willing to put up with the guard dogs they had for the ship. You could still see the redhead and blondie walking ahead. Meandering down the cobblestone pathway towards your village in the valley.

Walking along the same path it started to feel more and more like you were following them. Their long ass legs nearly walking at your average jogging speed so they were creating more and more distance between you. Watching with keen eyes as that huge fur coat billowed in the chill breeze. You could still feel that magnetic feeling in your core. Intuition or what some would call your psychotic brain urging you to keep your eyes planted on him. Or maybe both of them? Or maybe just interesting pirates in general? You didn’t want to assume your facinatation was with such a rude man.

I crave danger. Yeah, that’s all it is. He’s the Captain so he’s the source of it all.

You were so lost in your mind that you hadn’t even seen the redhead turn around and look at you. He halted instinctively when he sensed you trailing behind him. His jaw so tight it could nearly snap. “Are you following us?!”

Your eyes shot up from the ground. One foot mid step so it hit the ground with some extra force as you suddenly halted. The pair were about 50 feet ahead of you so maybe he had to shout so you could hear him over the wind. Or maybe he was just angry.

Yeah…that sounds more likely. You rolled your eyes a bit, taking a deep breath before responding.

“I wasn’t just to be clear but can I at least get your name?” You asked, taking a few more cautious steps towards him. Technically you were sort of following him but you weren’t going to verbally admit that.

Kids’ eyes turned to small slits. Judging you with utmost intensity. The blondie next to him surprisingly spoke or at least you think he did. Mask turned towards his companion but the wind was too strong and his voice was too quiet for you to hear anything. The redhead glanced at him, eyes twitching like a madman but something in him became noticeably more relaxed. Despite this though he still looked back at you, not holding anything back in terms of emotional regulation.

“How about instead of following people around like lost a puppy you go read a newspaper for once? You’ll find my name there, fuck-face!” He yelled, his tone sharp and quick. Proceeding to turn around and start up that same brisk walk they were at earlier.

Again you frowned softly. Face hardening in annoyance but you controlled your urges to just go up to him and give him a piece of your mind. Standing there in the middle of the trail, watching the pair get hidden by the green brush of the trees.

He says something like that again and I’m going ape shit on that cocky bastard. You thought, your mind mirroring the sky as it brooded and swirled with a storm. A rather stupid thought came to mind. One that was probably a bad idea but…it sounded fun.

You know what? Who cares about meeting these pirates in a normal way. Maybe my intuition was right and they really are just bad news.

And if that’s the case then…why not mess with them a bit? Bad people deserve bad things right?

You’ve escaped death a good handful of times. Dealt with pirates who were once foe and now friend. Or who wanted to kill you but you poked at them regardless. Who said these pirates had to be any different?

It’s my civic duty anyways. To keep an eye on them. I’ve got nothing better to do anyways. You thought, a devilish smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

The wind hit your spine and you shivered hard. Tugging on your jacket a bit tighter to keep it snug against your skin. A bright shock of light split the sky in the distance. The lightning danced for one moment before disappearing abruptly until eventually the thunder made it to you, nearly vibrating your ear canals.

You kept a good distance behind the rowdy group of pirates. Watching them as they split off into different shops that still happened to be open. Along with puffball and blondie walking into the only bar in town.

It was a well built brick building but showed clear signs of age. The old rickety sign fluttering in the wind on squeaky chains. A warm glow emitting from the few windows that lined the building. You hesitated for only a moment. Not wanting to walk in with them at the front of the bar. You hoped they would sit down somewhere. Give you time to think about what you wanted from a distance.

So you adjusted your clothes and hair a bit, willing your confidence to take the helms before you finally stepped through the wooden door, letting it creak open loudly before swinging shut. Eyes flickering over your surroundings with quick succession.

There was a fireplace off to your right hand side. You eyed it for a moment watching the low crackle of a small fire caught within the hearth. A few plush lounge chairs surrounded it with small tables covered in ashtrays and magazines. The bar was in the center of the large room. You noticed the dark oak bar looked freshly polished as you made your way up to it. The glass bottles lining the shelves behind it were glistening in the low warm lighting of the room. Booths were lined up on all the walls and even went behind the bar. A step or two leading down into the more private area in the back.

There was a decent sized crowd lingering in the seats but the overall vibe was quiet as per usual for your island. You weren’t used to going into bars so the culture and mannerisms were a bit foreign to you. But you tried your best as you eased down on a barstool. Focusing on getting a drink and settling in before you’d let your eyes wander to find the men of the hour. A short and stout woman on the other side of the bar walked over to you. Offering a curt smile before leaning forward attentively.

“Whaddya having?” She asked softly, swiping the edge of her blonde bob behind her ear. You searched your brain realizing you hadn’t a clue what you wanted to drink. Landing on the first thing that popped in your mind you responded, “Can I get a daiquiri?”

“Coming right up.” She gave you another quick nod and started walking off towards the other end of the bar. You didn’t want to look too suspicious staring around at the room but it was rather dimly lit in most places. Turning your head slightly to look behind you as you traced over the booths you made out a few old men sharing a pitcher of beer and a couple loners like yourself.

Other than that there was no duo to be seen.

Goddamn it. They must be in the back room.

The bartender walked back over towards you. A rounded glass with a medium sized stem sliding across the wood. The edge rimmed with sugar and a sliver of lime floating on the edge. “Thank you.” You mumbled looking between her and the drink before grabbing it.

She simply just smiled and started to walk away again. But before she could leave you spoke up. “Can I ask you a question?” She turned her head back towards you, eyes a bit wide but polite regardless.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Do you happen to keep some newspapers on hand? I didn’t see anywhere I could buy one.” You asked her, thumb absentmindedly rubbing across your glass.

“Ooh sorry, must’ve forgot to pull out the newspaper stand out today.” She said politely, quickly bounding over to a small chest on the floor. You watched her and leaned forward a bit to see over the edge of the bar as she squatted down. She pulled open the chest and inside was stacks upon stacks of newspapers lined up neatly.

“What date were you looking for? I keep all the recent newspapers on hand for customers.” She asked, looking back up at you. You chewed your lip for a second, a bit unsure exactly what to ask for.

“Well umm I’m looking for any headline about pirates. Anything within the last two weeks maybe? I can look so you don’t have to.” You told her, feeling a bit bad that this woman seemed so adamant about flipping around through some newspapers for you.

She simply shook her head and grinned once more. “It’s not biggie. I don’t mind taking a minute or two to look. Pirates you say? I think I remember seeing a newspaper with a headline about pirates a while ago actually.” She started flipping through the newspapers, keeping her eyes on them as she spoke to you. “What pirates are you thinking of though?”

“I’m not too sure. Well I know who but I don’t know their names. You…might’ve served them? They came into the bar not too long after I showed up.”

When you said that her head immediately perked up, looking up and over at you as if you were a ghost. “That redhead? Yeah I served him.” She said before looking away and back down at the newspapers. Her fingers made quick work to find what you were looking for. “I guess I was…right about them being pirates. I see a lot of pirate folk in this bar…but that redhead seemed different. Like his britches were a bit bigger than the rookies that usually roll through here.”

You didn’t respond to what she had said. She was right of course. Lots of pirates rolled through here but most just stocked up and left quicker than they came. The noble town up north on your island is filled with marines who didn’t bat an eye when one of the people in your village died.

Your town was nice but if there was ever a day you didn’t give the pirates exactly what they wanted. Or even worse someone actually tried to fight back when they stole. Things would get ugly fast until eventually someone had to step in and in most cases it was your father. Yet this village was just a pit-stop so most pirates were too wide-eyed and excited about facing the New World to stick around.

“Oh here we go,” the bartender whispered out, holding a newspaper gently between her hands and looking it over. “Huh. Kid Pirates. Funny name for a man so large.” She mumbled out, standing up and turning around to hand you the newspaper. You grabbed it and gave her a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Hopefully it has what you’re looking for.” She started down to the other end of the bar to help out customers. Leaving you alone with the newspaper and the faint quiet crackle of the fire. You were a bit hesitant to look at it. Feeling like you might see something that would change your mind about messing with them. So you took a sip of your drink first, feeling the sweet and sour rum slide down your throat and land like lead in your stomach.

You flipped open the newspaper and pitched it between your hands. Eyes gliding over way too much information at once.

It was a picture of the redhead front and center. Or moreover two pictures of him. One where he looked just a bit younger and the other more akin to what you had seen earlier though he still had his other arm. The newer picture was him standing on the coast of an island. A small town behind him that was…on fire. Tall hellish flames and pitch black smoke rising up and out of shot.

Well…that doesn’t seem good. You thought, swallowing hard. Though surprisingly that picture didn’t freak you too much. But the other one sure did.

He looked younger and a little thinner. His smooth coat and loose pants were a mismatch of colors and patterns. Bare chested and two armed he stood within what looked like a street. The amount of jewelry and off putting ‘swagger’ made you nearly giggle. But when you saw what you could only assume were citizens tied up and nailed to a cross you did in fact, not giggle.

So he’s into torture and wore fugly clothing is basically what I’m getting from this.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. Letting one half of the newspaper fall before picking it up again. Not exactly surprised but not pleased either.

The headline was “The Kid Pirates reemerged into the New World: Slaughtering civilians once again.”

Well shit.

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED THIS LONG ASS CHAPTER <3 I feel like we all just want Kid and Y/N to like…talk more. Believe me they will of course I just really need to set the scene. Plus Kid is grumpy and in pain so he doesn’t feel like interacting with anyone so it makes sense. But the next chapter THEY WILL TALK and something BAD MIGHT HAPPEN. So uhhh…strap in boys it’s getting bumpy after this one. ALSO PEEP THE Y/N LORE HINTS.

#eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #x reader #killer one piece #killer op #kid pirates #one piece x reader #one piece eustass #massacre soldier killer #one piece

88 notes · View notes

roxxie-wolf · 7 days

Text

𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒪𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒

Chapter 1 🌸 Chapter 2 🌸 Chapter 3 🌸 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 🌸 Chapter 6 🌸 Chapter 7 🌸 Chapter 8

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your parents want you to marry someone of their choice, but you already have eyes on someone else. Will you follow what your parents think is best for you or will you go with what your heart desires.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: human!alastor x fem!reader, slow burn, this story may contain mature sexual content. Your in your late 20's, Alastor is in his early 30's, you still live with your parents idk. If I forgot anything else please let me know.

Note: Hope y’all like this chapter. 😊

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟪

The evening was yours, the house quiet without your parents, and the anticipation of Alastor's visit sent a flutter of excitement through you. The knock at the door came just as doubt began to creep in, and with a quick adjustment of your dress, you rushed to answer it.

There he stood, Alastor, his presence instantly calming the storm of worries that had started to gather in your mind. "What ever is the matter, dear?" he inquired, a note of concern threading his voice, seeing how your face showed concern.

"Oh nothing," brushing aside the momentary anxiety with a casual wave of your hand. His arrival had chased away the shadows of doubt, and the relief was palpable. "I'm just glad you're here," It was then that you noticed he was holding red roses in his hand.

As he extended the roses toward you, his smile was like a beacon in the soft light of the entryway. "These are for you, my dear," the gesture both traditional and heartfelt.

You accepted the flowers, their rich color a vivid contrast against the muted tones of the room. "They're beautiful, thank you," the simple elegance of the roses reflecting the growing connection between you both.

You stepped aside to welcome him into the warmth of your home. Alastor stepped inside, his eyes taking in the warmth and charm of your home. "It's a lovely place you have, darling" his voice carrying a note of admiration.

You led him to the living room, where the soft glow of lamps cast a cozy ambiance. "Would you like something to drink?" you offered, wanting to make him feel at ease.

Alastor declined the offer with a gentle wave of his hand. "Oh no, I’m perfectly fine, thank you dear," he assured you, his eyes taking in the room with an appreciative glance.

“Alright, stay right here, you can have a sit if you like I’ll be right back,” with a reassuring nod to Alastor, you excused yourself and ascended the stairs, the bouquet of roses cradled gently in your arms. In the sanctuary of your room, you found the empty vase waiting, as if it too anticipated this moment. You filled it with water, each rose finding its place, the petals unfurling slightly as if to breathe in their new home.

With the roses now arranged, you paused for a moment, allowing yourself a brief respite. The anticipation of returning to Alastor's company sent a ripple of excitement through you. With a final glance at the blooms, you made your way back downstairs, each step quickening with the thought of the evening ahead.

As you returned to the living room, the sight of Alastor waiting patiently brought a sense of warmth to the evening. “I didn't take too long, I hope?" your voice softening with a hint of concern.

“No, not at all," his voice carrying a softness that seemed to fill the space between you. “Shall we get started with dinner then?" Your question, more an invitation than an inquiry, was met with an affirming smile from Alastor. Together, you moved towards the kitchen.

As you laid out all the ingredients on the counter, you realized the plates you needed were just out of reach. "Alastor, could you please get the plates from that cupboard?" you pointed to the high shelf.

Without hesitation, Alastor reached up and retrieved the plates, his height an advantage in the cozy kitchen. "Thank you," you took the plates from his hands and set them aside for later.

“You're welcome, ma cherie," the endearment rolling off his tongue with an ease that sent a flutter through your heart.

As he rolled up his sleeves and set to work on the meat, you found yourself captivated by the sight. His glasses perched just so, his hair a soft, fluffy crown that seemed to dance with each movement. It was a moment of quiet appreciation, a snapshot of domestic bliss.

"Your staring, darling," he teased without looking at you, his voice pulling you from your reverie.

"That I'm not," you countered playfully, a smile tugging at your lips as you turned your attention back to the vegetables. Alastor simply shook his head, his smile a silent acknowledgment of the moment, before he returned to his task.

With the meal well underway, you allowed yourself a moment of respite, gazing out the kitchen window. The world outside was quiet, the soft light of dusk painting everything in hues of gold and amber.

It was then that Alastor's presence became a comforting embrace, his arms encircling your waist with a gentle firmness. His face buried in the curve of your neck, he inhaled your scent. The arch of his body, the subtle shift, allowed his chin to find the perfect resting place atop your head. The surprise of his touch widened your eyes, a silent gasp of unexpected intimacy.

Your initial shock gave way to contentment as you leaned into the embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting presence.

————————————

The meal was ready, and Alastor took the lead in serving, a gesture that allowed you to simply sit and take in the moment. The absence of your parents gave the dinner an intimate atmosphere, free from interruption.

Alastor placed the plate before you with a grace that matched his earlier movements. "What would you like to drink, dear?" his voice a soft note in the quiet kitchen.

"Water, please," you responded, meeting his gaze. There was a comfort in the simplicity of the request.

He moved with purpose, then paused, looking back at you for guidance. "The cups are in the cabinet next to the fridge," you directed, pointing him to the right spot. His acknowledgment was a nod, and he retrieved two glasses, filling them with water before returning to the table.

As you ate, the memory of Alastor's embrace lingered in your mind, stirring a mix of emotions and questions. *Maybe he just wanted to give you a hug, nothing else,* you mused, trying to rationalize the gesture. Yet, the way he had held you, the warmth of his body, the closeness—it all seemed to suggest something more, something beyond a simple hug.

*But why like that?* The question echoed in your thoughts, unanswered. It was a moment of vulnerability, a crossing of an unspoken boundary that left you both connected and confused.

You glanced at Alastor, his features softened by the ambient light, and wondered if he too was contemplating the significance of the hug.

————————————

"The meal was lovely, darling," his voice carrying the weight of sincerity. You couldn't help but smile in response. “Indeed it was," you agreed, the smile lingering on your lips even as you felt the evening drawing to a close.

With the meal finished, Alastor got ready to depart. The possibility of your parents' return hung in the air, a silent reminder of the world outside the bubble you and Alastor had created.

As you walked him to the door, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. His demeanor had changed, his eyes held a certain intensity that made your skin prickle with unease. And when he stopped in front of the door, turning around to look at you, you could feel the tension in the air between you.

You couldn't read the look in his eyes, but it was enough to make you take a step back. And then another, as he advanced towards you. With each step he took, you kept retreating until your back was pressed against the wall, leaving you with nowhere else to escape to.

Alastor's hands found their way to either side of your head, trapping you in a cage of his making. You could feel the heat of his body, the weight of his presence pressing down on you. And as he arched his back to be at eye level with you, a shiver ran down your spine.

His gaze bore into yours, searching for something in the depths of your own eyes. It was a silent communication, a wordless exchange that spoke volumes. And in that moment, you felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that you had never experienced before.

But despite the fear that gripped your heart, there was something undeniably thrilling about the proximity between you and Alastor. His nearness was intoxicating, his intensity drawing you in like a moth to a flame. And as his face drew ever closer to yours, you could feel the magnetic pull between you growing stronger with each passing second.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you stood there, locked in a silent dance with Alastor. You were acutely aware of every breath, every heartbeat, every sensation that coursed through your body. And as he leaned in even closer, his lips just inches from yours, you could feel the primal urge to close the distance between you.

But just as you were about to give in to the overwhelming desire that threatened to consume you, Alastor pulled back, breaking the spell that had enveloped you both. He turned around, away from you, only to look at you again.

This time, as you looked into Alastor's eyes, you could see the intensity of love and admiration within them. He moved closer, his hand firmly gripping your waist as he pulled you towards him, putting one hand on the wall behind you.

“I can’t hold back anymore, darling,” his voice was soft but gentle.

The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with anticipation. You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, and every nerve in your body hummed with longing.

Alastor stared at your lips with hunger before locking eyes with you. With a deliberate slowness, he brushed his lips against yours, causing your breath to hitch in anticipation. Closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around his neck, you leaned in as your lips met in a passionate kiss.

His back arched as he deepened the kiss, biting lightly at your bottom lip before exploring your mouth with his tongue. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, your body responding eagerly to his touch. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in the intensity of your desire.

Your hands gently tugged at the back of his hair, causing him to groan. Alastor wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs, lifting you up as your dress bunched up. You wrapped your legs around his slim waist.

He pressed you against the wall, your hands entangled in his hair as you playfully pulled on it. But as you thought about your parents possibly arriving soon, you broke the intense kiss, a thin trail of saliva linked your lips together. "Alastor, we should stop. My parents could be here any minute now," you said breathlessly.

Alastor, also out of breath, looked into your eyes and nodded. "Of course, darling," setting you down on the floor. "I'm sorry, I got carried away,” just then, there was a knock at the front door.

"Honey, we're home. Can you please open up? Your father forgot the keys," your mother called out from the other side of the door.

Your eyes widened as you looked at Alastor, who in turn looked back at you. “You have to go, now” With a sense of urgency, you slightly pushed him through the hallway out the back door.

He gave you a quick peck on the lips before disappearing into the night. You fixed your dress, took a deep breath, and composed yourself before heading to the front door to let your parents in.

As you opened the door, your parents greeted you with smiles, completely unaware of the heated moment that had just taken place. You ushered them inside and followed them to the living room, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the encounter with Alastor.

Throughout the night, you couldn't shake the feeling of Alastor's touch lingering on your own skin. His presence seemed to follow you everywhere, even in the mundane conversations with your parents. You found yourself lost in thought, replaying the moment over and over again in your mind.

Exhaustion settled over you like a gentle shroud as the day's events replayed in your mind. The soft murmur of your parents' conversation was a comforting backdrop as you bid them good night.

"Good night," your voice carrying a hint of the day's weariness.

"Good night, sweetheart. Remember, we are going to see Cindy and her son James in a week," your mother reminded you, her voice filled with the warmth that only a mother's love could provide.

“Yes, mom," though your thoughts were elsewhere, lingering on the moments spent with Alastor. The idea of seeing anyone else seemed so trivial.

With a soft sigh, you ascended the stairs, each step taking you further from the evening's enchantment and closer to the sanctuary of your room. The routine of showering and preparing for bed was mechanical, your mind still ensnared by the intoxicating blend of emotions that Alastor had stirred within you.

As you slipped beneath the covers, the world outside faded away. And in the quiet of the night, you allowed yourself to dream of him, of Alastor, and of the infinite possibilities that awaited.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so you be updated every time.^^ I do try to proofread but if I missed something please let me know.

Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.

Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.💖

TAGLIST: @magictoebean @little-slyvixen @bitchywitchygardener @diffidentphantom @catticora

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor

60 notes · View notes

blashdafish · 11 days

Text

#im sorry to say i joined the fandom sometime during dust and darkness 😔#although I might've started reading aurora around cloudbreak? maybe?#which by the way. i know this joke has been made before but #everything after lawbringer/before petrichor just feels like lawbringer part 2. lawbringer part 3. to me #i love that arc but god damn i never want to see zuurith again after ripples #comic aurora #aurora comic #aurora webcomic #aurora #comicaurora

69 notes · View notes

pizzaboerr · 4 months

Text

From nothing to something.

(Sanji x reader, part 4)

Part 1 , part 2 , part 3

Summary: After ‘defeating’ Zoro in a fight, Luffy’s crew made it into the Grand Line. Everyone was happy, you had a great night but the storm kept you awake. Lucky for you, you weren’t the only one who was awake.

Word count: 2.2K words

Content warnings: Use of curse words, fluff, slight teasing.

Authors Note: I’m so sorry that I didn’t post anything in the last two weeks. I was really busy with helping my best friend move houses. I’m back now and I’ll try to get 1 or 2 post per week, depending on how big of a chapter I’ll write. Hope you all enjoy!

P.S.: Sorry if there are sentences that are grammatically incorrect, English isn’t my first language, so my apologies in advance.

~~—~~—~~—~~

It’s been a few days since you started your training with Sanji. Each day you improved a lot. When you didn’t train with Sanji, you took it upon yourself to get stronger.

“Slow down Tiger.” Nami said, causing you to jump. You quickly turned around and smiled sheepishly. “Nami, you scared the shit out of me. What’s up?” You looked at her, dropped your weights and grabbed a towel, wiping away all the sweat. “I just came to see how you were doing. You’ve been training all day!-“ Nami started. She looked around and saw Zoro sleeping on the other side of the deck. “Even Zoro doesn’t train all day.” She looked back to you. “Maybe you should take some rest.” You smiled but politely declined. “I’m all right. I need to be ready if something happens Nami. Everyone can defend themselves but I can’t, yet.” You grabbed your weights and started where you left off.

Nami went to the upper deck and looked in your direction, seeing the determination on your face. Sanji had seen Nami looking at you and decided to join her. He greeted Nami quickly and smiled while looking at you.

While this happened on the upper deck, you dropped your weights and one of them rolled into the direction of Zoro, who was still sound asleep. The weight hit his ankle which caused him to grunt. He stood up, grabbed one of his swords and stomped into your direction, only stopping just in time. “Watch it y/l/n.” He said angrily while holding the sword up to your neck. You knew Zoro wouldn’t hurt you, But you also knew not to fuck with him while he was asleep (even if it was on accident).

You sneakily grabbed one of his other swords and grinned cockily. “I’m not scared of you Zoro, you are all big talk and nothing more.” You said smiling, taking a few steps back. Zoro laughed loudly. “Sure, Let’s see how good you are.” He said wiping a tear away from laughing.

You had ben training with bamboo swords, just to see how it was, so you knew a little. You also watched Zoro when he was training, writing down tactics.

He charged at you and you quickly blocked him. You only knew how to kick and punch so you just tried to block every attack. After maybe 10 minutes, you were panting, Zoro was really strong and you didn’t want to admit your defeat. Zoro saw this and laughed, causing you to get a chance to maybe disarm him.

Because you charged at him, you made him hesitate which move he was going to pull, to not hurt you, You wuickly got behind him with the sword on his throat, barely touching him. He put away his sword and looked down. He cleared his throat before grabbing the sword from your hand and turned around, avoiding your gaze.

“I let you win.-“ He mumbled, looking at you. “Didn’t want to hurt you.” He quickly added while putting away his last sword, now trying to exit the deck. “Zoro!” You yelled before he could completely disappear from your sight. He turned around and looked at you. “I take back what I said, you had me until the last second. I have enough to learn from you.” You said softly towards him. He nodded and walked away.

Nami and Sanji both laughed and you turned around. “I think i’ll take the rest of the day off, just like you said Nami.” You said, gathering your stuff. Nami laughed and nodded. “That’s a good idea y/n.”

~~—~~—~~—~~

“Everyone get ready!” Nami yelled. “This is it! The way into the grand line.”

Everyone jumped around each other, trying to get to their spots. Luffy was on the sheep head, looking at each of his crew members. “Usopp, Zoro! take care of the masts!, Nami please make sure we don’t hit those pillars, Sanji prepare some food!” Luffy commanded everyone. You stood next to Nami, making sure if she needed you, you were there.

You got closer and closer and before you knew it, the ship was going upwards. You all cheered and smiled. Soon enough you were on the other side of the mountain, now in the grand line. The waters were really smooth here, and Nami looked back at her compass, trying to figure out the next steps.

You excused yourself and went to your shared room. You had this special compass, that someone gave to you back when you were still working in Loguetown. You decided that you were going to gift this to Nami, not only because she was the navigator but also because she became your best friend in a short time period. You got back to Nami and saw that she was looking confused at why her compass wasn’t working.

You looked at Nami and smiled. “Nami?” You started. She sighed. “The compass doen’t work y/n! I’m supposed to be the navigator but I can’t even tell which way’s which!” You chucked and she looked at you slightly angry. Before she could say anything you looked at the ground. “Nami I have a present for you, close your eyes and put your hands out.” Nami looked at you, now annoyed. “This isn’t the time for presents.” She said, still doing what you said. You gave her the compass and smiled widely. “Ta-da!”

Nami opened her eyes as she smiled slightly. “What is this?” She asked while she examined the little compass. “This is what you need in the Grand line. Someone gave it to me as a present but I know you will appreciate it more. It’s now located to the closest Island. It’s supposed to be one maybe one and a half days away!” You said jumping excitedly.

Nami looked back at you as her eyes started to swell with tears. She gave you a really big hug and thanked you multiple times. You smiled and looked at everyone. For the first time in a long long time, you felt important.

~~—~~—~~—~~

After finishing what Sanji called ‘The celebration feast’, you all decided to have a few drinks together, to celebrate entering the Grand Line. You told a few stories that other people told you while you still worked at the restaurant. Luffy asked a few stupid questions, which made you laugh.

Everyone was enjoying the time together. You decided to play a few card games, Usopp teaching everyone a new game. Everyone was so infested with the game that everyone lost track of time. Before you knew it, it was almost 1AM. You yawned and excused yourself. “I’m going to bed guys, i’m really tired. See ya’ll tomorrow.” You said yawning once again and waving everyone goodbye.

You opened the door to your room and grabbed your pyjama. After you changed, you quickly brushed your teeth, combed your hair and got into bed.

You kept turning in your bed and after not being able to sleep you sat up and looked at the clock. “2;54AM.” You mumbled before grabbing your robe and making your way to the kitchen for some water and maybe a snack.

As you walked through the hallways, you could see that the kitchen light was still on. You once again sighed. “I should’ve known he would still be awake.” You said to yourself before knocking on the door to make yourself known. You leaned against the doorframe, not wanting to invade his space.

Sanji looked up and smiled. “Didn’t expect to see you at this time mademoiselle, couldn’t sleep?” You smiled softly back at him. “Well I tried to sleep, but the waves hitting the windows kept me awake. I’m still not really used to the heavy waves and storms that sometimes happen.”

He smiled and nodded understandably. He put everything away and started to gather everything to make some hot chocolate. He grabbed a pan and put it on the fire. He poured in the milk and started to heat it up. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate, want some Amore?” He asked you softly.

You smiled widely. “Hot chocolate, how could I say no to that!” He chuckled, while he chopped up the chocolate and quickly whisked some heavy cream with sugar to make the whipping cream. He grabbed a few vanilla pods and put some fresh vanilla seeds in there as well.

Once the hot chocolate was done he gently poured it into two cups and topped it off with with the cream. He smiled at his creation and grabbed a piece of chocolate before grating it on top, to make it look extra pretty. “Here you go love, be careful, it’s still hot.” He smiled while he placed it in front of you. You grabbed the mug eagerly and touched his hand on accident.

You blushed heavily while pulling your hand away quickly. He laughed softly and grabbed his mug. He sat down next to you and looked at you.

The heavy waves turned into a terrible storm which sent chills throughout your spine. You absolutely hated storms and now on the ship it only seemed worse. Sanji noticed that you were slightly on edge and smiled barely. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his lap, intertwining his finger in yours.

At this point you were blushing heavily. “I don’t like stormy weather. The boat moves to much and it keeps me awake sometimes. The rain is calming though, when you lay comfortably in a hammock, or a bed-“ He said looking at you, trying to distract you. “-You just close your eyes and focus on the raindrops hitting the window and the wooden walls.”

You silently took a sip from your mug with your one free hand and nodded. “Storms aren’t my favorite.” You chuckled slightly. “You know-“ You started, placing down your mug. You completely turned towards him and smiled softly. “-When I was little, I used to be shit scared of storms, not able to sleep at all. I normally would wake my mum up and beg her to make me some hot chocolate. After that she would drag me back to bed and join me. She used to keep me safe from the storms. Maybe that’s the reason I never got over them. I didn’t want to lose that feeling.”

He smiled sadly. He looked away while he mumbled something. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, which made you curious. “Speak up, pretty boy.” You teased before taking a few sips from your hot chocolate. He turned around with a light shade of pink on his cheeks. “What I said was, you could always look for me in those scenario’s. Most of the time I’ll be awake anyways.”

You were taken aback my this. You kinda thought he didn’t like you. “And thank you sweetheart for the compliment, although you are the pretty one here.” He looked down at his mug and took a sip.

The tention between you two was really tight and you both definitely noticed this. You sat in silence for what felt like forever. Sanji never let go of your hand though. Eventually you started a conversation and before you knew it, the storm was over. It was still really early in the night and you let out a yawn. Sanji laughed and looked at you. “Mademoiselle, I really like the company, but you need your sleep. Are you okay now?” He slowly asked you while letting go of your hand.

You nodded and stood up. Sanji followed you and opened up the door. “I’ll walk you to your room, that’s the least I could do.” You smiled and started walking. The walk was silent but not awkward.

Once you stood in front of your door you turned around. This startled Sanji who was standing right behind you. You stood on your toes gave him a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you Sanji.” You smiled as you turned back around. He touched his cheek where you kissed him and he blushed heavily. You were about time to close the door before he whispered. “The offer still stands, remember that. Sweet dreams love.”

He quickly walked away, to the upper deck. He lit up a cigarette and smiled widely. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep after this. You had him all worked up and he let out a sigh.

~~—~~—~~—~~

You got back in bed and smiled to yourself. You closed your eyes and let out a big sigh. You thought about everything that just had happened and got comfortable in your bed.

As you drifted to sleep, you smiled again, finally able to have a good night rest, all thanks to the sweet and loving cook.

#monkey d. luffy #one piece #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #one piece usopp #one piece nami #one piece zoro #roanoa zoro #nami #usopp #one piece luffy

95 notes · View notes

hockeylovee12 · 2 months

Text

Crossing Enemy Lines

Chapter Three

Luke Hughes x Original Character

Warnings: Cussing, some toxic family dynamics, mentions of being used

A/N: I got really lazy writing this chapter so it may be a bit bumpy, but I hope you guys enjoy it. Chapter 4 will probably be out within the next week

November 12th, 2023

The sounds of blades slicing through a frozen surface fill the small practice rink in Newark, as the New Jersey Devils take the ice for their 9 AM practice.

Head Coach Lindy Ruff, gathers his players on center ice, his stern expression a clear indication of his displeasure with the personnel occupying the sea of red and white jerseys in front of him.

"Listen up boys," Ruff barks, his voice echoing off the boards, "We let in seven goals on Thursday! That's unacceptable"

Luke flinches at the reminder of Thursday's game, His mind recalling the feeling of disappointment he felt, followed by the memory of meeting Jordan.

"We can't be giving up chances like that, especially not to the Rangers" Ruff continues, his tone growing more frustrated "Jacob Trouba and his boys had a field day out there"

A surge of anger courses through Luke's veins at the mention of Jacob Trouba, prompting more unwelcome memories of Jordan to run through his mind.

Lindy continues his speech-which Luke has lost all interest in- as he feels himself getting more and more aggravated with each passing second, as the image of Jordan storming out of the cafe, plays on a loop in his head.

Then the loud sound of Ruff's whistle pierces through the air, signaling the beginning of practice. "Alright, let's start with some one-on-one battle drills," Ruff announces. "Luke, Mercer, you're up first. Let's see who comes out on top."

Luke takes a breath and skates towards the blue line, lining up in front of Dawson. As the whistle blows, they engage in a battle for the puck, sticks clashing and skates cutting through the ice. Luke tries to channel his frustration into the drill, using his body positioning to shield the puck while Dawson tries to exploit any openings in his defense.

"Good work, boys!" Ruff shouts. "Keep battling! Don't be lazy!"

The drill continues with each pairing taking a turn, and for a moment Luke's mind drifts back to Jordan.

He's mad, no he's pissed, he's pissed with the way things happened. He's pissed, that Jordan's last name is Trouba, he's pissed that out of all the fucking people he could've met, the one person, the one fucking person he works up the courage to talk to, to form a genuine fucking connection with, is the one fucking person he can't have.

A sigh escapes Luke's lips as he regains focus, and Ruff transitions the team into backchecking drills. "Forwards, I want to see you hustling back to help out your defensemen," he instructs. "Backcheck like your life depends on it!"

Luke throws himself into the drill, chasing down opposing forwards with a burning intensity. He disrupts passes and applies pressure, determined to shut down any offensive attempts.

But even as he pushes himself physically, he can't escape the nagging thoughts in his mind. He wants answers, he wants answers, to questions he doesn't even know how to ask.

He's mad, he's confused, and he's sad.

He’s sad that he met a girl he really likes and he can’t date her, he can’t hang out with her, he probably shouldn’t even talk her, and he’s sad that even if he could talk to her she probably wouldn’t wanna talk to him, because he's an idiot who fucked things up.

"Hughes, good hustle! That's what I wanna see in a game" Ruff praises. "Keep it up!"

Another sigh escapes his lips, as he continues pushing himself.

Halfway through practice, Ruff calls a five-minute water break. As the players gather around the bench, Dawson skates over to Luke with a mischievous grin. "Hey, Casanova! How'd it go with the girl you met the other night?"

Luke's jaw clenches. "Shut it, Dawson," he warns, his tone sharp.

John raises an eyebrow. "Ooh, touchy subject. Looks like our boy struck out."

"I said, shut it," Luke snaps, his patience wearing thin. The guys exchange glances, sensing the tension radiating from him.

Ruff blows his whistle, and moves the team to the net for some net-front presence drills. "Defensemen, your job is to clear the crease and make life difficult for the opposing forwards," he explains. "Forwards, battle for position and look for those dirty goals."

Luke positions himself in front of the net, engaging in physical battles with his teammates, and his mind wanders slightly, he wonders what they would say, if they knew, knew that the girl he met in the bar is Jacob Trouba’s sister. He knows they would tell him he can’t see her again, even though that bridge has already been burned.

But it’s like a part of him doesn’t know why, no actually that’s a lie, he knows why, he knows the rules, even if they’re unwritten, you don’t date an opponent's sister, doesn’t matter the sport, the league, or the team, and if there was a rulebook for the NHL, the message No Devils player should date a Rangers sister would probably be bolded in red at the top of every page.

"Box out, Hughes! What are you doing?!" Ruff yells. "Don't let them establish position!"

Luke hesitates, trying to regain his composure, when one more thought comes, a small, tiny thought racing through his mind, a thought that causes goosebumps on his skin, a thought he's trying desperately to ignore, whispering maybe, just maybe, it’s worth it. Maybe?

The practice continues with passing drills, the players focusing on crisp, tape-to-tape passes. Luke tries to lose himself in the familiar rhythms of the game, but his mind keeps wandering back to Jordan.

A few of his teammates shoot him concerned glances, almost every time they notice a change in his focus, but each time he shakes off their glances, and their reassuring words telling him to focus on practice or asking if he's alright because the one thing he knows for certain, is that even though their relationship is over, his teammates never need to know is that he went on a date with the enemies sister, or that she won't leave his mind.

Then as practice nears its end, Ruff has the team skate lines, something Luke knows he can't fuck up.

The players line up on the goal line, their chests heaving and sweat dripping from their brows.

"Alright, boys, let's finish strong!" Ruff bellows. "On the whistle, skate to the red line and back. Keep pushing until I say stop!"

The shrill sound of the whistle pierces the air, and the players take off, their skates pounding against the ice.

They push themselves to the limit, legs burning and lungs screaming for air, as they continue to skate back and forth.

Until finally, Ruff raises his hand, motioning for the players to gather around.

"Alright, boys, that's enough for today," Ruff says, his tone softening slightly. "Good job. Hit the showers. We're leaving for Detroit at 11."

*****

Jordan's eyes begin fluttering open, her body still wrapped in a cocoon of cozy blankets and sheets, embracing her in what feels like a warm hug.

She reaches for her phone, squinting as she checks the time: 11:04.

Memories of yesterday's date with Luke flood her mind, and a wave of disappointment washes over her.

With a sigh, she swipes away the notifications, her mind still groggy, and swings her legs over the side of the bed, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before standing up and making her way to the living room.

As she walks, she can't help but feel upset and angry about how things ended with Luke. She really liked him, and their connection had been undeniable.

But the fact that he couldn't see past the rivalry between his team and her brother's? It's stupid, it's frustrating and it's disappointing.

"Hey, Jordy," Jacob greets her as she enters the living room.

To her surprise, Jacob is sitting on the couch, his attention focused on the TV. He had been away the previous two days, the Rangers having a back-to-back with the second half being an away game in Pittsburg.

"Hey, when did you get home?" Jordan asks, her voice still thick with sleep as she settles onto the couch beside him.

"Not till about one this morning" Jacob explains. Jordan nods, knowing she was still awake at that time, and probably too distracted by her thoughts to hear him come into the apartment.

"How was Pittsburgh?" She asks

"Eh, same old, same old. We got the win, so that's what matters." Jacob nudges her gently. "So, Kelly told me you had a date yesterday. How'd it go?"

Jordan shrugs, not particularly wanting to delve into the details. "It was fine," she says noncommittally.

Jacob raises an eyebrow. "Just fine? Do I need to beat someone up?" he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Jordan's mouth. "No, no. It just... didn't go well, that's all."

"You sure you don't want to talk about it?" Jacob prods gently, concern evident in his voice.

Jordan shakes her head. "I'm sure. It's not a big deal."

Jacob studies her for a moment before deciding not to push further. "Alright, well, in that case, you and I are going to lunch. Come on, my treat."

Jordan lets out a small laugh, appreciating her brother's attempt to cheer her up, "Alright just let me get dressed and brush my teeth" Jordan says

She heads back to her room to get dressed, choosing a comfortable outfit for their outing.

Then the siblings make their way to a local restaurant, not too far from their apartment, the aroma of freshly cooked food and the buzz of conversation enveloping them as they step inside. They settle into a booth, perusing the menu as they wait for their server.

Once they place their orders-a salad with Salmon for Jacob and a club sandwich with fries for Jordan-Jacob leans back, his eyes fixed on Jordan. "So how's NYU treating you?" he asks, with genuine interest in his voice.

Jordan brightens a little, "It's great," she gushes, launching into a detailed account of her classes and the new friends she's made.

Soon their food arrives, and they begin eating.

Their conversation naturally shifts to hockey, with Jacob recounting the details of the Rangers' recent games. "-But the game against the Devils was great, but intense cus they're all a bunch of softies" he remarks, oblivious to the way Jordan tenses slightly at the mention of Luke's team. "Pretty sure half their players threatened to cut my head off before the third period. But the Devils are all fucking talk, the scored one goal, and kept complaining for hits we made, but the fucking lost anyway, and with the way they were playing, a power play wouldn't have made any difference."

Jordan forces a laugh, trying to push away the thoughts of Luke that inevitably surface. "Yeah, that's crazy. Y'all really hate the Devils?"

Jacob, laughs before responding "Well of course, we're supposed to plus, they're all assholes so who would wanna like them"

"Yeah, right" Jordan says

Jacob continues to talk about the game, but Jordan finds herself only half-listening, her mind drifting back to Luke and their ill-fated date. She can't help but wonder what he's doing now if he's thinking about her too.

Noticing her distraction, Jacob pauses. "Hey, you okay?"

Snapping back to the present, Jordan nods. "Yeah, sorry. Just got lost in thought for a second."

"No worries." Jacob takes a sip of his drink before changing the subject. "So, Thanksgiving is coming up. Kelly and I were thinking of hosting the team at our place this year. You're still cool with that, right?"

Jordan's heart skips a beat at the thought of being in the same room as a bunch of Rangers players, but she knows she can't say no, well actually she could but, she won't. "Yeah, of course. That sounds great."

"Awesome. It'll be fun, having everyone together like that. And who knows, maybe you'll even meet someone new." Jacob winks playfully.

Jordan scoffs playfully, "You'd want me to date a Ranger?"

Jacob shrugs "Nah probably not, but if you did I would be okay with it, as long as it's a Ranger, though, otherwise find a different sport"

Jordan forces a laugh, her thoughts once again turning to Luke.

If only her brother knew the truth, the truth that she's already met a guy who plays hockey, a guy who wears a different crest on his jersey, a guy who keeps running through her mind.

*****

The Detroit skyline looms in the distance as the New Jersey Devils' plane touches down on the runway. The team disembarks, collecting their luggage and boarding the team bus that will take them to their hotel.

As a rookie on an entry-level contract, Luke shares a room with his teammate, Alex Holtz.

Once in their room, Luke puts his stuff down and flops onto the bed.

He begins absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, when a knock at the door interrupts his mindless browsing, and he gets up to answer it.

Jack stands in the hallway, an expectant look on his face.

"You ready to go?" Jack asks.

Luke blinks, confused. "Where?"

Jack gives him a look. "To see Mom and Dad. We're getting lunch. Did you forget?"

Rolling his eyes, Luke tries to play it off, even though he really did forget "No, I just need a few minutes to get dressed."

"Alright, hurry up. I'm gonna call an Uber." Jack turns to leave.

"Okay," Luke replies, closing the door. He quickly changes into a pair of black jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a flannel before grabbing his stuff and saying bye to Alex.

The brothers meet up in the lobby and climb into the waiting Uber.

As they drive through the familiar streets of Detroit, Luke remains quiet, lost in thought as he watches the scenery pass by.

They arrive at the restaurant and spot their parents, Jim and Ellen, already seated at a table. Ellen waves them over, standing up to give each of her sons a warm hug. They sit down and place their orders, falling into easy conversation.

"So, boys, how's the season going so far?" Jim asks, taking a sip of his water.

"It's been good, Dad," Jack replies. "We've had a few tough losses, but overall, the team is really coming together."

Ellen smiles. "That's great to hear. And how about you, Luke? How are you adjusting to life in the NHL?"

Luke shrugs. "It's been a learning curve, but I feel like I'm starting to find my footing."

The conversation turns to family updates and upcoming holiday plans until Jack casually lets it slip that Luke had a date yesterday.

Ellen's eyes light up. "Ooh, a date? Give me the details!"

Luke shoots Jack a glare before turning to his mother. "It was just a date, Mom. It didn't work out. I don't really want to talk about it."

Jim leans forward, curiosity piqued. "Why not? What happened?"

"It just didn't work out, Dad. Can we please drop it?" Luke pleads, feeling uncomfortable.

"Oh, come on, Luke," Ellen says, her tone gentle. "We're just curious. It's not every day you go on a date."

Luke sighs, somewhat fighting the sarcastic urge to thank his mother, for bringing that detail to light.

"Seriously, Luke it's been a while since you've had a girlfriend" Jack states

This time the sarcastic quip isn't fought back as he responds "Thank you, Sherlock"

"We're just saying Luke, it might be nice for you to have someone" His mom adds

Luke sighs, he thinks it would be nice too, but unfortunately that hasn't happened yet,

"I know can we just drop it" Luke states, his voice raising slightly.

An awkward silence falls over the table.

After a moment, Jim clears his throat. "So, that game against the Rangers." he says, shifting the topic, which unknowingly causes just as much frustration for Luke, as their previous one, especially considering how Jim chooses to approach the conversation.

Jim leans forward, his expression serious. "Luke, You seemed a bit off"

Luke shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "It was a tough match, Dad. The Rangers are a strong team."

"That's no excuse," Jim counters. "You can't let the other team dictate your play. You need to be more aggressive, take control of the game."

"I'm trying, Dad," Luke sighs, feeling the familiar pressure of his father's expectations weighing on him.

Jim continues, "And what about that turnover in the second period? You can't be making mistakes like that, especially not in your own zone. The other team is just gonna eat that up and score on you"

Luke feels his frustration rising. "I know, Dad. I'm working on it."

Ellen, sensing the tension, tries to intervene. "Jim, honey, I'm sure Luke is doing his best. It's not easy being a rookie in the NHL."

But Jim is undeterred. "The best players find a way to rise above the challenges. If you want to make a name for yourself in this league, Luke, you need to be better."

Jack, noticing Luke's clenched jaw, attempts to diffuse the situation. "Come on, Dad. Luke's been putting in a lot of hard work. His coach has been giving him good feedback. Plus he's producing well"

"Hard work is important," Jim acknowledges, " and he is producing well, but don't forget you're a defenseman, points mean nothing, if you keep giving easy goals away."

Luke's frustration boils over. "I got it," he snaps, his voice louder than intended.

An awkward silence falls over the table again and Jack nudges Luke, silently telling him to calm down.

"So, Mom, how's the garden coming along?" Jack asks, steering the conversation to safer ground.

Ellen smiles, grateful for the diversion. "Oh, it's going great," she gushes, launching into a detailed description.

The rest of the lunch passes more pleasantly, as they finish their food, and stick to more neutral topics.

Then the check arrives, and Jim insists on paying, waving away Luke and Jack's protests. They say their goodbyes, Ellen hugging her sons tightly and making them-specifically Jack-promise to call more often, before they go their separate ways.

In the Uber back to the hotel, Jack nudges Luke. "You alright, man? You seem a bit more on edge. You usually don't let dad get to you like that?"

Luke sighs, rubbing his face. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind."

Jack nods, silently clapping his brother on the back.

They arrive back at the hotel and Luke makes his way to his room, before lying down on the bed, his mind still reeling from the ups and downs of the day.

His phone buzzes with a new notification, he picks it up, seeing the contact name, it's one of his best friends Dylan Duke: Hey man, we still on for dinner tonight with Mark and Ethan at 8?

Luke types out a quick reply: Yeah, see you then.

He sets his phone aside and closes his eyes, trying to calm his swirling thoughts.

*****

Jordan sits at her desk, a textbook open in front of her and a pen poised in her hand. She's been staring at the same page for the past half hour, the words blurring together as her mind wanders back to Luke.

She leans back in her chair, a heavy sigh escaping her lips, as she recalls the nervous smile, on his face, when they met on Thursday, it was cute, charming, just like his laugh, and his hazel eyes, or his competitiveness during their game of pool, that was just the right amount of cockiness to keep him from coming off as arrogant. She can't lie, she felt a connection with him, a connection she hasn't felt in a really long time.

And just like last time, her last name ruined everything, it's ridiculous, that a stupid rivalry caused all this, a stupid rivalry she's not even a part of, ok well yes her last name, but like not her.

Jordan reaches for her phone, her fingers hovering over his contact. She wants to text him, tell him she's not her brother, and her life shouldn't be dictated because of it, she wants to tell him that, she really fucking wants to.

But how would she even say that? "Sorry my brother is your team's biggest rival, but I don't have a problem with the Devils so can we still date?"

She laughs bitterly at the thought. It sounds ridiculous, even to her own ears.

And yet, a part of her doesn't care. A part of her wants to do it anyway, say fuck it.

But she knows it's not that simple. She knows the unwritten rules, the lines that can't be crossed, blah, blah, blah, they're stupid.

Her mind wanders to past relationships, to the boys who only saw her as a stepping stone, a way to get their foot in the door with the Rangers. She remembers the hurt, the betrayal, the feeling of being used.

But with Luke, she thought'd it'd be different outcome, but the outcomes the same, just took a different route, a route still dictated by her fucking last name.

Luke had been a breath of fresh air, someone who seemed to genuinely care about her, who made her feel seen and heard. And now, she may have lost him forever.

A single tear slips down her cheek, and she quickly wipes it away, not wanting to let herself wallow in self-pity.

"Jordan!" Jacob's voice echoes from the kitchen, startling her out of her thoughts. "Dinner's ready!"

She takes a deep breath, composing herself before responding, "Be right there!"

With one last glance at her phone, she sets it down on the desk, the screen still displaying Luke's contact. She knows she can't text him, can't reach out, no matter how much she wants to.

*****

Around 7:45 Luke leaves the hotel to meet up with Dylan, Ethan and Mark. They decide on a sushi restaurant that's walking distance from Luke's hotel.

As they settle into their seats, the conversation quickly turns to life at Michigan.

"Man, you should see the new freshmen," Dylan says, a grin on his face. "They're a riot, especially this one kid from Canada. He's always trying to impress the girls with his accent. It's hilarious."

Ethan laughs, shaking his head. "Remember that party last weekend? I swear, I've never seen someone drink that much and still be standing."

Mark chimes in, recounting a particularly memorable moment from their latest hockey practice. "And then Coach just lost it, started yelling at everyone to get their acts together. I thought he was gonna blow a gasket."

As his friends continue to share stories and updates, Luke finds himself only half-listening. His mind keeps drifting back to Jordan and the way things ended between them. He also can't shake the feeling of nostalgia, missing the carefree days of college life.

Dylan notices Luke's distraction and nudges him. "Hey, man, what's up? You're too cool for us now that you're in the NHL?"

Luke snaps out of his thoughts, looking at his friend. "Of course not," he says, a small smile on his face.

Dylan grins, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Just kidding, dude. But seriously, what's going on? You seem a little off."

Luke hesitates for a moment before opening up. "I met this girl on Friday, and I really liked her. We went out yesterday, but things took a turn for the worse." He doesn't mention her last name, keeping that detail to himself.

His friends listen intently as Luke continues. "We got into a disagreement about something, and it kind of ended everything."

Mark leans forward, his eyes sympathetic. "Do you like her? I mean, really like her?"

Luke nods, a wistful expression on his face. "Yeah, a lot."

Ethan places a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Then it shouldn't matter, man. If you care about each other, you can work through whatever the problem is."

Dylan suddenly looks serious, a rare occurrence for him. "Hold up, she doesn't hate hockey, does she?"

Luke can't help but chuckle at the question. "No, she doesn't hate hockey."

"Then Ethan's right," Dylan says, a smile returning to his face. "Whatever the issue is, you guys can figure it out."

Mark and Ethan nod in agreement, encouraging Luke to reach out to Jordan and try to make amends.

"I don't know, man" Luke says, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "What if she doesn't want to hear from me?"

"You won't know unless you try," Mark points out. "Just send her a text, see how she responds. What's the worst that could happen?"

Luke considers their advice, his mind racing with possibilities, before he lets out a chuckle "When the hell did you guys get brains?" He jokes.

"Junior year apparently" Dylan remarks, resulting in a laugh from the table.

The conversation shifts back to lighter topics, as they finish up their meal, before remaining at the table, for at least another hour, before Luke has to get back to the hotel, for room checks.

Once back in his room, he notices Alex already asleep, always an early sleeper, unlike himself, so Luke quietly changes into his sweats and a t- shirt, before lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He replays his friends' words in his head, contemplating texting her.

And in a moment of impulse, he grabs his phone, his fingers hovering over the screen. Before he can second-guess himself, he types out a simple message to Jordan: I'm sorry.

He hits send, his heart pounding in his chest as he waits for a response that may never come.

A/N I hope you enjoyed reading! Feel free to send me any comments about this story, if you like it, I'd love to hear them!

#luke hughes #nj devils #jack hughes #hughes brothers #crossing enemy lines #original story #New York rangers #jacob trouba

56 notes · View notes

killykstudio · 10 months

Text

Melancholia

Miguel O'Hara x Cheated on!Reader

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3;Part 4; Part 5; Part 6;

Warnings:18+, angst, depress1on, parano1a, intrusive thoughts, mention of cheating.

Summary:After spending the night at Miguel's house, you come to face an unexpected surprise.

Author's note: I just wanted to thank you for the amazing support received! I'm so happy to see someone liked it, I will try my best to not let you down! So now enjoy the new chapter!

;

"muñeca!"

You jump at the endearment. You start hurriedly searching in his wardrobe for a change, the idea of being caught makes you shiver.

What would he think? Maybe he likes it and he's gonna confess his interest for me! Or he gonna think I'm a creep, pervert , a manic! Well he would be right ,but no no n-

"everything okay? I heard you calling my name"

Shit!

"Don't worry! I just heard something hitting against the floor and I've wanted to know, if you were okay"

"I see... Anyway when are you ready, come down here in the living room, I'm waiting for you" he says tenderly

A smile paints on your face.

"A few minutes and I'm ready!" You don't know why,but you felt so excited and overwhelmed by joy. He said such a common thing , but the way he said it and the place made it feel like a scene of domestic affection. Already in your head started popping up fake scenarios of what would happen when you would come down: Him smiling by just seeing you; probably he cooked breakfast and would love to share it with you; then he would be hesitant to go work and in the end would stay at home just for staying with you; he would talk about his work, what he likes and his family. Oh his family he would probably make you meet with his brother and his daughter! His daughter, god! She would love you! And he

God... I've married the wrong scientist

As you just have finished changing and hid the dirty shorts in the back of the wardrobe, immediately you start sprinting down the stairs, doing little jumps between a few steps. You can't stop smiling and overthinking about all the fake scenarios in your head, you feel it today is gonna be the change in your life

"I'm here" you jump on the last step. Eyes closed by the huge smile on your face

"So tell me Mig-

"Honey!"

As you are opening your eyes , you feel someone storming towards you and hugging you.

Eyes wide, you see Miguel a few metres in front of you with his arms crossed on his chest and an impassive expression.

"Thank God you are okay".

As every dots unite, your face becomes blank, numbs overcoming your happiness.The man hugging you comes to cup your cheeks between his hand.

It's your husband

"I was so worried" a tear starts wetting his right cheek.

"I'm sorry! to have... not seen your problems...to have made you feel alone ... to have been an asshole...To have been negligent to you... I-" he does a deep sigh "I love you" he lightly smiles and gives you a kiss on your forehand

Your face is still deadpan and immobile

"Thank God, Miguel told me everything". Your eyes widen

Miguel?

You search for his gaze, but his eyes are set to his left

Why?

You feel a sting of betrayal mixed with anger and sorrow.

Why?

"Why?" Both of them stare at you. "Why did you cheat me?"

Both of their faces are astonished. In your husband's eyes agitation is growing, In Miguel's irritation and confusion as you staring at him with eyes full of rage. He knows he did something you clearly didn't want ,but it was the right thing to do , since you were avoiding the situation.

"I mean... I didn't want you to find out in this way... It was a mistake... I stop-

"Dios Mío! Not in my house, porfavor!" Miguel says breaking eye contact with you , guilt beginning growing in his abdomen. you keep staring at him ,your eyes become even more red and you feel tears start gathering in your eyes, but you hold them back

Your question wasn't aimed at your husband.

You are acting childish and without reason , but your emotions are stronger and to help them there are all your fake scenarios.

"Yeah we were already too much of a nuisance" your husband grabs your wrist

You have to stay calm... After all he has another life... He was too caring to you... Be grateful and ap-

"FUCK OFF!" You shout.

Miguel pupils shrink and come to see you staring at him. Now he was infuriated.

"honey I'm sorry, yeah I deserve this but not now okay?" He starts dragging you towards the door.

"Bye Miguel thanks for everything, buddy" Miguel replies to your husband words with a nod meaning 'dont worry'. He passes near him, then Miguel is met by your face of disgust to which he reciprocate.

Then he hears the door slamming.

¿qué chingados?

~~~

You and your husband are in the elevator. A thick silence is dividing you two , even though he is still holding your hand. you don't repay the gesture, leaving your hand lolling.

Tears start falling , but your expression emit nothingness

All the anger and the fury replaced by nothing and bit pain as you start overthinking about everything that happened in these two days.

"Honey... your ring?"

You move your head to the hand he is holding and you see it. You have lost it, probably in the lake.

Next you finally meet his gaze. He smiles softly, frowning as feeling out for you.

The fuck?

"don't worry, honey. We will bu-"

"I want to nullify our wedding"

;

Author's note: Sorry for the short chapter , but I feel if I included another plot point here, it would have been too long. Also in the next part there will be a surprise of for you all. Anyway I think at this point I will rename the main tag as"Miguel O'Hara X obsessed!Reader" , since I have some peculiar ideas for how to continue the story, so stay tuned ! Part 6 is posted!

231 notes · View notes

raya-hunter01 · 6 months

Text

Fade Into You Part. 4

Prequel Lights, Camera, Action!

Jey Uso x Black Female OC! (Shantell)

Roman x Black Female OC! Tangela

Solo x Black Female OC! Sofia

Jimmy x Trin

Rating: 18+

Warning: adult content, sex

Summary: This is the Prequel for Lights, Camera, Action! How does an outburst on your first day lead to a lifelong friendship with the Tribal Chief Roman Reigns and the stands the test of time. How does that friendship introduce you to a special group of people that will become your family.

When did the lines get blurred between friendship and wanting a relationship with one of your best friends Mr. Main Event Jey Uso. Follow the friendships, and relationships of how they all came to be the one big happy family we all know and love in Lights, Camera, Action.

Enjoy guys! Let's see if anybody can catch the Easter Egg from Chapter Four of Lights, Camera, Action...What situation did Jey, Shantell, and a certain someone caught up in..The roles were reversed this time and it makes Ch. 4 of Lights, Camera, Action that much sweeter.

-------

Pensacola, FL

Joe’s House

Joe’s POV

“Aye, you gotta eat this Uce,” Jey said passing me a bowl of soup. “It’s just gon’ come right back up,” I said as Jey sighed. “Maybe not let’s try it,” he said as I had to admit it smelled good. “If he doesn’t want it don’t make him. Ya’ll all fuss over him too much for me,” Trina said as Jey frowned at her. “Look, he’s gotta eat something to keep his strength up,” Jey said as she got up, “I’m gon’ leave you to it Jey because I don’t want to see no throw-up today,” she muttered as Jey growled in his throat as she walked past him.

“Really…did she really just say that shit Uce,” Jey said frowning at me.

“Don’t pay her any mind she’s just a little freaked by all this,” I said taking a couple bites of soup trying to block out what she said.

I knew It was overwhelming her when we went to the Dr. last week and she practically all but ran outta there. They were talking about treatments and how I was feeling was normal and could get worse.

“Uce, she ain’t acting very lovin’ or trying to help for that matter. She so in that damn phone,” Jey said as I passed him the bowl leaning back on the sofa not feeling like eating anymore. "Uce, just drop it please," I said not wanting to talk about it.

Jey’s POV

I took the bowl back into the kitchen as Shantell and Sofia frowned seeing the bowl was practically still full.

“No sir take it back, he’s gotta eat,” Sofia said firmly as Shantell cut the oven off. “Yea, I had to make him eat yesterday, and he kept It down ok. He needs his strength," she said as I sat the bowl down on the table.

“Ladies, he’s tired and I think Trina ain’t helping either with her little don’t care attitude,” I said pointing towards the patio as Sofia shot me a look.

“Oh, really, maybe I should talk to her,” she said heading towards the back door smoothing down her nurse scrubs. “Sofia be nice, Joe likes her, “Shantell said as Sofia laughed heading outside. “She better be talkin’ like she got some damn sense,” she said closing the door.

----

Sofia’s POV

“I’m here mama and so are they. I mean they are just smothering him,” Trina said as I stood quietly behind her listening.

“Look, I didn’t sign up for to be a caregiver so it’s good that Shantell and Sofia are here. It doesn’t mean I gotta like them though, I mean, I signed up for fun and maybe a ring down the line mama, not this. I knew I should have approached Seth that night in the club,” Trina said as I felt my temper flaring.

“Well, I can help you out with all your issues Trina, you can get yo' shit and get out,” I said calmly as she jumped turning to face me as I stormed back inside.

“I can explain Sofia, just listen,” she said following me as I rolled my eyes at her desperate attempt to keep me from talking to Joe.

“Nah, explain to Joe how you are using him,” I said as Shantell and Jey followed us into the living room. “What the hell you talkin’ bout Sofia,” Joe said standing up trying to gather himself.

“Yea, what’s going on wit ya’ll?” Jey asked as I looked at Trina. “Why don’t you tell Joe, and everyone how you don’t want to be here. How you signed up for a good time and a ring. How you wish you had gone after Seth instead. I mean you don’t want to be a caregiver right?” I said as Joe stood beside me staring a hole through Trina who couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Did you say that? Were you usin’ me?” he asked in disbelief as Trina began to stutter over her words. “I…I.. didn’t mean it, you know me I get to running my mouth when I’m overwhelmed,” she said as Shantell began heading upstairs.

“Shantell where you goin’?” Jey asked as Shantell shot him a look. “Shantell, you know what to do,” Joe said pointing at her as she nodded in understanding “You know I got you, I’m going to get her shit now,” Shantell said disappearing upstairs as Joe nodded in agreement. “I need you out…. Now Trina,” Joe said as Trina looked horrified.

“Look can we talk Joe, I can explain,” Trina said as Joe walked away from her. “I got enough goin’ on, I don’t need people around me that ain’t real and ain’t really for me. So let’s just leave it at we had fun but now it’s over,” Joe said as Shantell began throwing clothes over the balcony.

Shantell’s POV

This bitch in my brother’s house looking for a damn come-up, using him. “Nah, you leavin’ this house with what you brought in bitch. These lil five ugly ass dresses and these two pair heels, everything else Joe bought it and you ain’t getting it,” I hissed talking to myself as I threw the rest of the dresses over the balcony as Jey looked on in shock.

“Shantell what you doin'?!” Jey shouted as I rolled my eyes. “What does it look like, taking out the damn trash. She gon’ carry them little ho dresses outta here in her fuckin’ hands. Here take yo lil funky ass shoes too! Ain’t no luggage bitch!” I exclaimed, throwing a pair of heels over the balcony as Jey dodged them.

“Sorry Jey, you betta move,” I said as he moved quickly out of the way of the last pair of heels flying over the balcony. “Damn girl you can throw,” I heard him say as Trina ran over to her clothes. “Don’t touch my things!” Trina exclaimed as Sofia scoffed.

“Oh, you can give up the phone too, Joe bought it for you last month. I’m the one that went with him and picked it out,” Sofia said snatching her phone as I came back downstairs.

“Get your shit and get out,” I said as I saw Joe going in her purse taking two keys off of her key ring.

“Ya’ll have had it out for me since day one!” Trina screamed as Joe growled. “Enough! Ain’t nobody had shit out for you!” He yelled as we all got quiet.

“Calm down Uce, this ain’t good for you,” Jey said as Joe waved him off. “I’m good Uce, you heard my sisters Trina. Get your shit, get out, and don’t come back,” Joe said giving her back her purse as she checked the key ring.

“Oh, sweetie I can already tell you he done got his house and car keys off of there. It’s a wrap boo,” I said as she shot me a look but went to pick up her things off the ground.

“Yes, we need a cab at 913 Redford Lane,” Sofia said walking off on her phone as Jey went to help Trina pick up her things. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I went over and knocked them outta his hand.

“She can pick it up and carry it, her arms ain’t broke Jey,” I said as he held his hands up in surrender as Trina bent down to gather her things.

“Aye, just an innocent bystander,” Jey said as I sighed. “I’m sorry Jey, I said as he smiled, pulling me into a hug. “Is it bad I’m kinda turned on right now?” Jey whispered in my ear as I rolled my eyes, before I pulled away, looking for Joe who had seemed to have disappeared.

“He followed Sofia outside, he’s good,” Jey said as I nodded but watched Trina like a hawk until she walked outside and ran into Dwayne.

“Oh, hey Trina,” he said looking at her but then seeing the clothing in her hand, he looked at us and smiled. “I’m sorry by the looks of things, I guess it’s bye Trina,” he said as Jey snickered.” Fuck you, Dwayne!” she yelled slamming the door behind her.

“What’s up my family,” he said completely unfazed giving me a hug.

“Hey, it’s good to see you. He’s out back with Sofia,” I said knowing why he was here.

“Thanks, mama,” he said giving me a kiss on the cheek before giving Jey a hug. “Aye, thanks for coming by Uce,” Jey said as Dwayne nodded.

“You know we family and we stick together,” he said as Sofia came back in. “I just saw her get in the cab,” she said smiling seeing Dwayne. “Hey stranger, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she said as he gave her a hug. “What’s up my favorite RN,” he said as she blushed.

“I’m good and I’m glad you’re here. I’ll take you to him, maybe you can help bring him outta this funk” Sofia said as Dwayne followed her out back. “I got you, he ain’t gon’ be able to tell me no,” Dwayne said following her closely “Do you think he’s going to go for it,” Jey asked as I sighed.

“I think a trip to Samoa to do a cameo in Dawayne’s movie will give him something to look forward to and a little vacation. He needs one,” I said hoping Joe took him up on his offer.

“What time is your Proctored midterm today?” Jey asked as I looked at my watch. Shit, in thirty minutes. Wait how did you know I had an exam today?” I asked as Jey smiled at me. “You told me last week when we were texting,” he said as I smiled at him feeling special that he remembered. Silly right…..

Jey had gotten in the habit of calling or texting me after shows, and we would talk until they reached the next city. It made me feel like I was almost on the road with them.

Some nights he had me on speaker phone and we’d all talk, some nights he would text and wait until he got to his room to call to tell me goodnight and we would talk for a bit.

I don’t know what was happening with us but I knew I liked it but was still playing it safe.

“Thanks for reminding me, can you let Joe know I’ll be in the computer room. I wouldn’t make it home in time,” I said as Jey scoffed at me. “Girl, gon’ Ace that test. I’ll tell him, and I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Jey said giving me a hug before I excused myself to take my exam.

Joe’s POV

I can’t believe this shit, now I’m back where I started. Why is it so hard to find that special someone when you are somewhat famous? Everybody got a damn agenda, and I just don’t have the energy for the bullshit.

“Joe, someone’s here to see you,” Sofia said as I sighed. “Sis, I think I’m done accepting visitors today,” I said as a familiar voice interrupted me.

“So, you don’t wanna see me, damn, I must be losing my touch,” Dwayne said as I laughed turning around, smiling at him. “Aye! What are you doing here?” I asked going over to give him a hug.

“I came to see you because I have a proposition for you,” Dwayne said as my interest peeked. “What could you possibly have for me?” I asked as he smiled brightly at me.

“A trip to Soamoa, and a cameo in my movie,” he said cutting to the point. “Man, in a perfect world that would be a dream,” I said truly wanting to do it but not sure how. “It’s just a week, we would shoot for three days and then the rest of the time relax, and take in the island,” Dwayne said as I smiled.

“Joe, we think the break would be good for you. The doctor said you are doing good, they are expecting remission soon with how aggressively they are treating the leukemia, “Sofia said as I really thought about what she was saying.

Yea, I had been pushing the doctors, I needed to get back to what I love. When I was first diagnosed eleven years ago my body was able to go into remission in four months and I’m praying for the same outcome again.

“Come on Cuz, you need this break,” Dwayne encouraged as I sighed knowing he was right. Especially after today and the shit with Trina.

“Yea, I know, and a break does sound really good. Just being able to soak up the sun and the culture, “I said truly trying to weigh my options.

“Hell, if he ain’t going, I’ll go chill on the island wit ya Cuz,” Jey said coming on the patio as I shook my head at him.

“He invited me, you ain’t taking my trip Uce, I’mma go,” I said finally agreeing as Dwayne laughed. “We gon’ have fun, I promise. We leave in a week,” he said reassuring me. Maybe the change of scenery would recharge me.

----------

One Week Later

Pensacola, FL

Gulfdream Properties

Shantell’s POV

“Oh, Jey I like this,” Trin said walking into the foyer as I checked out the kitchen. “Nice cooking space, I can see us throwing down in here Trin,” I said looking around as the realtor smiled.

“This has been remodeled and the owner has dropped his asking price by four thousand,” she said showing us around.

“I like the game room, it’s tight,” Jey said smiling looking around as I smiled at him. “Look at this view!” Joe said as we went to the back door.

“Wow! That’s beautiful,” Jimmy said staring out into the Gulf. “This place screams you Jey,” Joe said walking outside wanting a closer view of the ocean.

“I know, I really like it,” Jey said beaming. He looked free as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“So, Mr. Fatu do you want to put in an offer,” the realtor said as Jey thought for a second looking around at us as we all anxiously waited for his answer.

“Yea, tell them I will pay the new asking price in full after we get the inspectors to check out the house,” Jey said as we all cheered. Jey was about to become a homeowner!

“Alright I see you Mr. Homeowner!” Joe said giving him a hug as the realtor left the room the contact the seller.

“I’m so happy for you,” I said giving him a hug as he lifted me up off the ground and spun me around. “Thanks, beautiful,” he whispered as I gave him a kiss on the cheek. Trin cleared her throat giving me a knowing look as Jey put me down and I blushed slightly.

“Ignore her, she messy as hell,” Jey said as I laughed. “You better be glad I love you, brother,” Trin said winking at him as he smiled brightly at her.

Jey’s POV

Yea, I was about to become a homeowner. No more renting, damn sure no mortgage. I needed to get a few more things from the condo and the other shit she could have I didn’t want or need it.

I had bit the bullet and called Candy earlier telling her I would be by later on today and to not have old dude at the house when I got there.

“What time you goin’ to the condo?” Jimmy asked as Trin frowned. “Why, are you going there? Just let her have everything at this point brother,” she said as I sighed. “I got two more boxes to get outta my office and she can have the rest,” I said as Joe rubbed his eyes.

“Ya’ll, I leave out for Samoa with Dwayne tonight, so we better head that way now,” he said as Shantell agreed. “Yea, you don’t need to do it alone,” Jimmy said as Shantell’s phone rang.

“Hey, grandma!” Shantell exclaimed accepting her Facetime call. “Hey, my baby, how is everything?” she asked as Shantell flipped her camera around to show us. “Nothing just hanging out in Jey’s new house,” she said smiling at me.

“Congratulations Joshua, you deserve it,” she said as I could see Ma Tanya holding the phone. “Thanks, Gram…Hey, ma!” I said as she stuck her head in the frame. “Hey ya’ll, I really miss being in Florida,” she said waving as Shantell laughed.

“ I told you to move back, Ohio is not you mama," Shantell said as her mother smiled. “How are you feeling Gram?” Trin asked as she grumbled.

“Baby, I’m old and just here. Gram tired baby,” she said as Shantell frowned. “Everything ok over there?” she asked as her mom sighed.

“We ok baby, mama is just a bit overwhelmed with all the tests they’ve been doing on her,” she said as Shantell gave her a small smile.

“Grandma, I love you, get you some rest and I will call you tomorrow,” Shantell said blowing her a kiss as her grandmother smiled brightly at her.

“Go be great my baby,” she whispered, I could tell Shantell was trying to hold it together as they finished their call.

“Aww babydoll don’t cry, Gram gon’ be just fine,” Joe said taking her in his arms as Shantell cried. “She just can’t catch a break,” Shantell said trying to control her tears.

“Aye, she’s gon’ be ok. You gotta believe that,” I said going over to join their hug. “Yes, everything for everybody is gon’ work out ok. Group hug everybody!” Jimmy shouted as we all hugged.

-----

Later that day

Jey & Candy’s Condo

Jey’s POV

“You really showed up here with all of them?” Candy asked pointing at Joe and Jimmy. “Yea, I did because last time I came over you put me in a tough spot, and the police had to be called,” I said unlocking my office as Trin came behind Candy.

“Aye, why don’t you step back and let him get what he needs. Stop hovering over him,” she said as Candy rolled her eyes. “What you his bodyguard now?” Candy asked as Jimmy stepped in the get Trin under control “A’ight baby let’s go wait outside with Shantell,” Jimmy said as Trin sighed.

“Ya’ll hurry up so we can get outta here, but to answer your question…Yea, I am his bodyguard…I’ma always be my brother’s keeper,” Trin said as Jimmy took her outside. “I’ll wait here in the hall,” Joe said as Candy approached me.

“Jey can we talk please?” Candy asked as I sighed. “Candy, we signed the divorce papers. I was nice enough to give you the money you asked for because I just wanted it done,” I said as she began to cry.

“I know you wanted it over, and I know I hurt you,” she whispered as I gave her the key to the office. “I got everything outta here I need, the rest is yours. Don’t call, or come near my family again,” I said unfeeling walking past her.

“Jey, this is me, baby, you know you still love me,” she said grabbing my arm as I stopped walking. “I loved you, I loved yo ass more than anybody and you betrayed me. Enjoy your life wit yo' man,” I said walking away from her and the home we built.

I stayed strong and got in the car as Trin was still on edge. “Sis, I handled it, it’s done,” I said as she nodded in understanding. "I still wanna kick her ass," Trin mumbled as Jimmy caressed her knee.

"Calm down, she ain’t worth it," Jimmy whispered as Trin sighed looking at the house in sadness. “I can’t believe how the house has gone down,” Joe said looking at the house as well.

“I can’t either but I can’t worry about it, it falls on her now as to what she spends the money on I gave her,” I said knowing I did what needed to be done.

“I’m very proud of you,” Shantell whispered as I smiled sadly at her. "I am proud of me too,” I whispered grabbing her hand as my eyes met Jimmy’s in the mirror as he smiled.

“Aye, why don’t we go out and celebrate tonight,” Trin said as Shantell seemed in deep thought. “You good wit that Shantell?” I asked as smiled.

“Yea, it’s cool with me but I will leave early I got to study,” she said as Trin cheered. “Yay! We can dance some girly, it’s overdue,” Trin said smiling at Shantell.

“Ok, I’ll see if Sefa wants to come out, I know Sofia gotta work the night shift tonight, "Jey said as Joe smiled. “Well, why ya’ll doin’ all this I’mma be in the air on my way to the island,” he said seemingly happy.

A plan had been put in place and it was time to celebrate my freedom.

------

Pensacola, FL

Night Life Club

Jey’s POV

The club was in full swing, I have to say Jimmy could always pick a good spot to hang out and enjoy. Especially since it was homecoming weekend and people from all walks of life were out enjoying

“Aye, you didn’t tell me you would be here?” a familiar voice said as I turned and saw a smiling Taraji. “Hey, one of my favorite interviewers!” I exclaimed giving her a hug as I felt her hands roaming my back.

“Lawd, you smell good wit your handsome self,” she said as I cleared my throat, blushing. Her boldness caught me off guard as I pulled away to create a little space.

“Aye, don’t start no shit you can’t back up now,” I said flirting wit her. “Who said, I couldn’t finish it. I have been trying to get you alone for a minute, but you be playin’,” she said smiling at me.

“I told you I was goin' through a divorce, and wasn’t looking to get tied up with anybody,” I said as she ran a finger down my chest. “But now I hear you signed the papers, so that means you’re free now,” she said giving me a wink.

“You bold as fuck huh,” I said as she laughed ignoring what I said. “So where is Joe’s little friend Shantell?” Taraji said as I frowned at her.

“Uh, her and Trin in the bathroom. Why?” I asked as she smirked. “I figured she’d have you on lock, I mean she likes you,” she said as I laughed.

“Nah, it ain’t like that Shantell is my Uce, we family. I don’t see her the way everybody sayin’ I do,” I said downing my shot trying to convince myself more than Taraji.

“Well, since it ain’t like that, how about you let me show you what you have been missing,” Taraji whispered as I looked around trying to see if this was a joke. I mean she really tryin’ to shoot her shot.

“What…You mean like have sex here?” I asked as she grabbed my hand pulling me through the crowd not sayin’ another word.

Sefa’s POV

This motherfucker here already fuckin’ up, see I was right. He's bout to be a fuckin idiot out in these streets cause he’s single. “Damn, I gotta get Shantell outta here,” I muttered to myself as Jimmy came up.

“Did you see that shit, what the hell he doin’?” Jimmy asked as I sighed. “Yea, I saw, and I don’t like it, but I knew it was bound to happen,” I said as Jimmy looked even more pissed off than I did.

I never felt so bad in all my life as I saw Shantell and Trin heading towards us.

Shantell’s POV

“Hey, where did Jey go? He was harping about wanting to get a dance in before I leave,” I said taking my drink back from Sefa. “Uh, he stepped out for a minute, he should be back soon,” Jimmy said looking disappointed.

“Well, he’s got a few more minutes and I’m out. I’ve got to study,” I said nursing my drink as Sefa frowned and Jimmy looked nervously at each other and then back at me. What the hell was goin’ on.

“What’s up wit ya’ll, why the sour mood all of a sudden,” Trin asked as I looked up and saw out the corner of my eye and saw Jey and a girl heading to the back of the club through a set of double doors.

If I’m not mistaken It looked like that new girl Taraji that Paul hired a few days before I had got sick at Raw. I must be going crazy cause that is hella random, but I wanted to know what the deal was.

“Hey, I need to make a call guys, I’ll be back,” I said before Sefa could stop me. I knew it was none of my business, but I couldn’t stop my feet from following them. I mean we ain’t together but with everything lately, I was thinking maybe he would at least ask me out on a date.

I mean we basically act like a couple…I could hear moaning when I went through the double doors and I felt my heart drop. The closer I got to the other door at the end of the hall, I could hear the shuffling of clothes. My hands trembling, I opened the door slightly and peeked inside.

I was bringing pain upon myself, but I wanted to be sure, and I don’t even know why. It wasn’t like I could confront him or anything.

“I ain’t looking for a relationship and I don’t wanna lead you on. This can’t go anywhere, I just wanted to tell you that before we do this,” Jey moaned as I saw he had Taraji pinned against the wall kissing her neck.

“I ain’t lookin’ for a relationship either, I just want to have fun,” she gasped as he entered her hard and fast taking her against the wall with wild abandon.

“Yes! Give me all that frustration, I know it’s been a long time for you baby,” Taraji moaned scrapping her nails down his back as Jey fucked her senseless up against the wall.

His growls and moans were getting louder as well as Taraji. She tried to bring him in for a kiss but he turned his head and attacked her neck instead.

“No kissin', this is just for fun remember, no ties,” he whispered sucking roughly on her neck as I closed the door. Slowly I backed away trying not to disturb them as I tried to process what was happening.

“Shantell, get it together. Fix your face, go out here, and act normal. Have a good cry when you get home and keep it movin',” I whispered giving a pep talk to myself as I went back into the club almost colliding with Sefa as steadied me in his arms.

“Shantell, are you ok?” He asked as I nodded, not trusting my voice. I felt like I couldn't breathe. “Uh, I’m fine…I’m gon’ go ahead and go. I think I’ve seen enough for one night,” I said as he pulled into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, my brother is an idiot,” he whispered as I tried to hold in my tears. “It’s ok, I know what it is, and I ain’t mad at him. He can do what he wants, we ain’t together,” I said hugging him tighter as I felt my walls crumbling.

“Please don’t tell him that I saw them, I don’t want to embarrass him or myself any more than necessary,” I said as he nodded. “Sis, you ain’t got nothing to be embarrassed about you hear me,” Sefa whispered rubbing my back “I knew I shouldn’t have come tonight,” I whimpered trying to hold back tears as Trin came up.

“Hey, are you ok?” she asked as I tried to play it cool dropping my head into Sefa’s shoulder, bringing up my hand up to wipe a tear I knew had fallen before she could see. Pulling away from him, I put on my bravest face and smiled.

“I’m good sis, I’m just worried about this other class. Then I got a paper due, you know that overwhelming college shit” I said as Sefa smiled sadly at me knowing I was lying and trying not to break down.

“Aye, before long we gon’ be cheering you on at graduation, just hang in there,” Jimmy said looking sadly at me. Great he knew too..Ugh, I wanna crawl into a hole and die.

“Well at least give me one more dance before you go,” Trin said pleading as I smiled in spite of myself. “Fine, just one and I’m out. My Uber should be here in 10 minutes,” I said checking my phone.

“That’s all we need, come on here! she exclaimed, steering me to the dance floor. “That gives us a chance to show’em how Zeta Phi Betas have the best stroll. I know you remember how to do some,” she said pulling me further into the club with Jimmy following us

“Trin, I got on a dress,” I whined as she laughed. “Girl, you betta stroll yo ass off, let’s kills this shit right quick,” she said hyping me up as I downed the last of my drink as Jimmy took my glass. “A’ight, ya’ll betta do that shit too!” Jimmy exclaimed as I laughed at his enthusiasm.

Jey’s POV

“Damn, I can’t believe I did this,” I muttered as Taraji pulled down her dress. “Don’t beat yourself up, we both wanted it. It’s no big deal, we ain’t hurting nobody," she said as I thought of Shantell.

Fuck, I’m so damn stupid. “Hey, stop overthinking over there, Shantell won’t find out,” Taraji said as I winced like I had been wounded.

“See it’s all on your face, you like her. That’s why you wouldn’t kiss me huh,” she said as I ran my hands over my face.

I could tell it stung her a bit that I wouldn't kiss her but she was trying to play it off.

"You were probably thinkin' bout Shantell while we were having sex," Taraji said as I stroked my beard not meeting her eyes. "Oh, God you were, weren't you?" Taraji said in shock. While I was irritated with her, and wished I didn't have had sex wit her, I knew she was right.

I was thinking about Shantell the whole damn time. Damn, why did I even bring my ass back here?

“Look keep Shantell's name out yo' mouth. It's not your business, and this situation with you and me was just a one-time thing. It's not happening again Taraji, shit like this gets messy,” I said not wanting to hurt her feelings but wanting to get my point across.

“Damn, you called us having sex a situation. Well, I got to meet back up with some of the girls so I'll see you later,” Taraji said giving me a kiss on the cheek.

“Yea, I’ll see ya,” I said as she left. I looked at my watch and realized I probably had missed Shantell. Rushing I cleaned myself up and walked back out into the club.

“You good bro,” Sefa asked appearing from outta nowhere as I nodded. “Yea, I’m good bro,” I said trying to convince myself. I could see he wanted to say more but he was biting his tongue.

“I know it was stupid, you ain't even gotta say nothin',” I said as he shook his head in disappointment at me. I saw a crowd had formed in a circle in the middle of the dance floor.

"We got some Zetas in the house! Alright, ladies let’s see that stroll!" the DJ screamed as Choppa Style by Choppa began to play as the crowd began singing, I guess tryin' to hype up whoever was out there on the floor.

Damn, what did I miss? I said pointing at Jimmy who was throwing his hands up in the air grinning like a fool recording on his phone.

“Oh, nothing just Trin and Shantell over there strolling with two other fellow Zetas, you know it’s homecoming week,” Sefa said as I looked at him.

“Excuse me, Shantell doin’ what?” I asked in shock as we made our way through the crowd finally getting closer to Jimmy.

“Aye, they killing it, where the hell ya’ll been?!” Jimmy shouted over the music as my eyes found Shantell. There she was wit her sexy ass gliding in the line rocking her hips.

“Alright, this is one of my favorite parts. Get low ladies!” the DJ screamed as they all in sync began dropping it low to the floor slowly winding their hips.

“Damn! Yes sir!” Jimmy exclaimed as I was trying to remain calm but my mind and heart was racing as I saw Shantell throwing her ass in a circle next to Trin.

"Shit, yea, throw dat ass back girl," I muttered to myself in awe of what was happening as the girls threw up their sorority sign, swinging their arms from side to side, as they went even lower to the floor.

The crowd was eating this shit up and I wanted to eat Shantell's ass up.

I couldn't help the low primal growl that escaped my lips seeing Shantell bite her lip as her ass continued to bounce behind her almost as if it had a mind of its own.

I shifted myself in my jeans as I watched Shantell’s dress start to rise slightly. I saw her quickly pull her dress down in the front holding it in place while still dancing. Thank God, I don’t need these dudes in her looking at her like that.

"Man shiid, shawty in the black dress straight fire!” I heard a guy say to his friend as I shot him a look.

“Yea, she is and I know you betta not even think about goin' near her, let alone touchin' her. She’s taken a’ight,” I said making sure he knew what the deal was before he got ahead of himself.

“Sorry didn’t know she was your girl,” he said as I nodded turning back to the watch. “Boy, I know you feel stupid,” Sefa said hitting my shoulder as I saw him eying Shantell with a smirk. “You enjoyin' this shit a little too much little brotha,” I said as he laughed.

“Damn sure is 'cause I wouldn’t be me if didn’t love watchin’ yo’ ass squirm,” he said as I rolled my eyes at him. “A’ight that’s my wife! Come thru baby!” Jimmy shouts as Trin throws him a sexy smirk as the girls begin strolling behind each other in a line again around the dance floor.

Sefa’s POV

I can’t help but snicker watching my brother trying to control himself as Shantell danced in front of him, giving him a sexy smirk.

Jey’s soul looked like it left his body as he eyed her up and down “Damn, Shan," I heard him whisper as I laughed. “Uh huh, yea, let his ass know sis,” I muttered to myself. Yea, lil sis up in here showin’ out and shuttin’ shit down.

“I’ll be got damn,” Jey whispered slamming back his shot as Shantell danced past him not sayin’ a single word as they went to make their way off the dance floor.

“You a’ight over there bro?” I asked about to rub It in some more but I stopped myself as I saw the look on his face.

It had gone from confusion to full-blown pissed off in a matter of seconds as I turned to see what was happening.

Tevin had reached over and hugged Shantell as she was dancing. “Hey you!” she exclaimed, returning his gesture coming out of the dance line. “What the fuck he doin’ here?” Jey hissed as I smiled.

“Oh, Tevin? They got him directing the house show tomorrow,” I spoke to him earlier when you were preoccupied with Taraji, chasin’ a nut in the back of a dirty storage closet,” I said enjoying seeing him squirm as he rubbed his hand over his face in frustration.

“Fuck you man, it wasn’t like that,” Jey whispered as I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m just trying to figure out how you mad at him for hugging her when you just fucked another woman literally not even ten minutes ago in a storage closet. Make it make sense bro,” I said as Jey growled.

"‘Cause I fuckin’ am ok! Look, just go over there and break that shit up for me ok,” Jey said as I shook my head in disbelief at him. “Fine, I’ll go but I’m doing it for her, not yo’ ass,” I said going over to Shantell and Tevin.

--------

Shantell’s POV

I had put on the facade long enough I needed to leave, have a good cry, and try to study. Tevin was a good guy, I just wasn't in the mood tonight. I sighed in relief as Sefa came over to us because the alcohol was getting to me I needed a hot shower and a bed.

“Aye, your Uber should be here by now. You want me to walk you out,” Sefa said as I smiled. “I just paid it and canceled it, could you take me home,” I said as Tevin interrupted us.

“If you like I could give you a ride,” Tevin said as I tried to let him down easy. “Nah, I don’t want to spoil your night, I’ll just go with Sefa," I said giving him another hug.

“Well, how about you come to the show and shadow me tomorrow,” he said as I smiled at him. “I’ll think about It, but I probably will be busy though,” I said not really wanting to go to the show as Jey came over.

“Shantell ya’ll shut it down out there,” Jey said as everything I felt earlier came rushing back. “Uh, thanks,” I said trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“I was about to take Shantell home,” Sefa said as Jey smiled. “Well, I could take you,” he said as I tried to think of what to say. “Nah, Uce, I got her. Sofia has some stuff she wanted me to give Shantell, so I’ll take her,” Sefa said cutting off the conversation as I smiled in gratitude.

“Well, I’ll text you in a bit or call you,” Jey said trying to hug me as Sefa cut in and Jey backed up in shock. " I'll talk to you later Shantell," Tevin said as waved at him.

“Shantell, I’ll meet you in the car,” Sefa said giving me his keys as I waved at Jey and headed towards the door. I didn't feel like talking at all right now.

I felt grateful as the cool air hit my face as I walked to his car. If he had hugged me I either would have puked or busted out in tears and would have embarrassed us both.

The fresh air felt good on my skin, looking down to smooth down my dress I almost collided with someone.

"Damn, watch where you goin'!" a female voice said as I steadied myself. "Oh, sorry," I said walking around her not really paying attention to who it was, I was just ready to go home.

"You saw us didn't you Shantell?" the voice gloated as my blood ran cold. I turned and looked at Taraji, her smug grin made me want to chop her ass in the throat.

I knew her reputation and it made my skin crawl Jey was that desperate to stick his dick up with her passed-around pussy.

"I don't know what you talking about," I said playing it cool. Shantell just walk away, she ain't worth it.

"I saw you out the corner of my eye, you really should have stayed longer and caught the finale. He really looks sexy as hell when he cums she gloated as I sighed in pity at her weak ass attempt to rattle me.

"Well, I don't see how you saw his face with how he kept it buried in your neck in order not to look at you," I said not backing down.

You got the right one now bitch I ain't got nothing but time.

Tell me, how did that make you feel seeing us together? I mean I know you like him, but he won't give you the time of day," she said smirking at me as I laughed and shook my head.

"Well, I honestly don't feel anything about it because I wasn't the one getting fucked in a dirty ass storage closet with the rats and the roaches. You the real MVP Taraji, I'ma be just like you when I grow up," I said smugly as her once smug face now wore a deep frown.

"You just jealous," Taraji started as I cut her off. "Oh, you're right, I'm just jealous because I wasn't the one giving my body to a man who didn't even think enough of me to kiss me on the lips," I said smirking knowing it cut her ego real deep.

"I will hurt you Shantell, I don't care who you claim to have as a brother," Taraji said pissed off as I laughed.

"I'd love to see you try, but nah, I ain't done talking about how I'm jealous of you I am. Listen to this one, it's the best reason that I'm jealous of you," I said smugly pointing at her as she put her hands on her hips trying to keep her cool.

"Taraji, I'm jealous of you because it is so obvious Jey was fantasizing about someone else as he used your body to chase a nut. I mean let's be honest, that's the real reason why he couldn't look you in the face as he fucked you," I said feeling better I had got it off my chest.

"You just wish you could be me, i'm warning you, stay out of my way Shantell. You just wait though, Jey will be my man real soon," Taraji said walking away from me.

Nawl, bitch you don't get the last word on this one.

"Taraji, If you do by some miracle convince him to date you, it won't last long. He will see right through you, so enjoy it while you can Taraji," I said as she stopped walking. "Like I said stay outta my way," Taraji said as I smiled.

"Oh! Taraji, it's just one more thing I need to tell you woman to woman," I said as she turned to look at me.

"Don't you ever come for me.... Unless I send for you. Now, you have a blessed night," I said turning to look for Sefa's car as she stormed back into the club.

Sefa’s POV

What the fuck you do that for?” Jey asked as I rolled my eyes at him. “I don’t think Shantell wants to smell Taraji on you bro,” I said as his eyes widened in horror.

“Shit, I wasn’t thinkin’, look just make sure she gets home safe,” Jey said as I nodded and went to catch up with Shantell.

“Everything ok?” Shantell asked as I got in the car. “Yea, everything good and to answer your question I didn’t tell him you saw them,” I said as she sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” she whispered leaning her head back on the seat as we rode in silence. I dreaded leaving her alone as we got closer to her house. But I knew she probably needed time to process everything.

---

Shantell’s POV

“Thanks for the ride, I said as he gave me a hug. “If you need to talk I’m here, just call me,” he said as I got out. “Thanks, I’ll talk to you later,” I said getting out. Making the lonely journey up to my door, I turned to wave at him before going inside as he drove away.

I looked around and realized I was truly alone. Joe was on his way to Samoa, mama was in Ohio…I just felt alone, and as I got undressed and stepped into the shower. I couldn’t hold it in any longer I began to cry.

My heart was crushed, but when I thought about it, I really didn’t have a reason to be. He was never mine to begin with and with that being said I did the only thing I could do.

I picked myself up after my crying session and focused on my work.

I would be ok…I could do this….I truly just had to be his best friend, his Uce. I can do that... I know that I could

I mean how hard could it be?

------.

Taglist: @reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-

girl @melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl @mya2real

86 notes · View notes

wannaeatramyeon · 11 months

Text

Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.

Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent

Chapter 5 - Please read chapter 1 first!

“Princess! You forgot your umbrella? You’re going to look like a drowned rat!”

There’s nothing like a one-two punch of an insult with an unexpectedly chivalrous intention to signal his entrance.

Just when you were about to gather enough strength to make the mad dash home through the pouring rain, Goo Kim appears.

(He seems to do that more and more these days. You’ve grown used to his company by your side.)

Any witty retort evades you. You think of him as a saviour standing there; indeed, saving you from looking like a drowned rat.

In his hand he shields himself with a bright yellow umbrella. Overly big and much too colourful. Like him, really.

“As I’m such a kind gentleman, I’ll even walk you back for free.”

“For free?”

“You don’t know how expensive my time is.”

Expensive? You scoff at this silly statement. This guy seems to have nothing but time, hovering around you for what must be a good chunk of the day.

As the skies turn even more ominous and the downpour grows ever heavier, the appreciation for his unceremonious appearance increases exponentially. Considering you’re one of the last people left in school, finishing up and staying behind after your music club, you actually didn’t expect to see him at all.

You walk by his side, falling in step together.

Goo deftly plucks the violin case from your hand, swinging it around to carry on his own shoulder. A lifetime of good manners ingrained in you, the thanks comes out even as your eyebrows shoot into your hairline.

Perhaps he wasn’t so off the mark calling himself a gentleman.

The rain opens a pandora’s box of sorts.

The first of many of Goo Kim’s casual touches comes, pulling you closer to him, avoiding the storm drenching your side, and he keeps his arm around you.

You never realised Goo Kim was such a touchy person. Hmm. A better correction is you never used to know anything about him apart from his reputation.

He has made no secret of his disregard for personal space with you; is a clingy, sticky gumball of a person.

Suffice to say, him also being handsy tracks.

(Goo is familiar with having his hands on other people, although he is more used to bodies quivering with fear as he unleashes savage assaults.)

Home is within reach.

The walk back is over in what feels like the blink of an eye with Goo by your side and you safely encased under his umbrella, his body helping to block out any remaining errant elements.

His rambling words throughout washing over and covering you like a safety blanket as he drones on about something or another.

You’re both in your own bubble. It’s warm and cosy and you find it’s hard to leave once you reach your front door.

Goo mentally notes the shabby state of the neighbourhood that you direct him to, the worn down facade of your apartment block.

This wasn't what he was expecting.

This isn’t the home of someone born with a silver spoon in their mouth, of a spoiled little girl with an easy life. Was his initial assessment of you that far off?

You part, saying goodbye as he scratches his head.

Later that night, you still feel the pressure and heat of his arm.

A terrible combo of homework, school projects and evening shifts stack up for you a few months later.

Knocking you out, tired and completely frazzled.

In the morning you miss your first alarm. And then your second and third.

With the sun peeping through your curtains, you jerk awake, sweaty and with the sense that something is wrong.

Shit. You are beyond late for school.

Fuck brushing your teeth, fuck washing your face, fuck combing your hair. You pick up your uniform scattered across the floor, pulling on what you can, cursing your past self for not being more organised.

Goo takes one look at you and guffaws. Completely dishevelled and brightening up his morning with how much you look like shit.

"Where's your tie?" He approaches you during the morning free period as you desperately try to run your fingers through your tangled hair nest.

"What?" You snap, still not recovering from your dire start to the day or the disapproving look from the teacher as you slammed the door open and interrupted whatever they were saying.

Hearing Goo's laughter really was the icing on the cake. Your thoughts were resentful as you trudge to your seat, thinking that no matter how many times Goo disturbs anyone, coming and going as he pleases, everyone is too scared to stand up to him. He gets away with it.

The blonde's eyes drop to your collar, and your hand follows, feeling around for your tie.

Damnit.

It's eerily reminiscent of your first meeting with him.

Except with you, you do care. The straw that breaks your back as the pressure and stress of the last few weeks reach breaking point.

You start to spiral.

"Silly goose," Goo chastises, pulling out a tie from his pocket, "You can have yours back."

Oh. He kept it?

Your eyes start to well up and your bottom lip wobbles dangerously.

For the first time ever, you see Goo Kim looking uncomfortable. He gives you an awkward pat on the head, anxiously fiddling with his own glasses, before hightailing it out the classroom and leaving you sniffling to yourself.

#this whole fic is so self indulgent #i am so so sorry at the quality in advance #i wanted to hit all the school romance tropes so badly. the walk in the raaaaain omg #lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism hc #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #goo kim #goo kim x reader #kim joongoo #kim joongoo x reader #wannaeatramyeon #school days with princess and the delinquent

155 notes · View notes

dany-is-my-queen · 1 year

Text

A Question Of Loyalty II

Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader, Alicent Hightower x reader

Word count: 6.8k

Note: First of all, I cannot thank all of you guys enough for the love you’ve given to this story. To be completely honest, I don’t know how many chapters are left, maybe 2, maybe even 4. After the 1 season of House of The Dragon ended, I’m in blank really. I’m currently reading Fire & Blood, where “The storm broke and the dragons danced”. So, I don’t want to spoil you, therefore I’m unsure on how much to include in futures chaps… I already have a few ideas though, solid ones that you’ll read soon. Anyways, sorry for my rambling lol. Enjoy! These are flashbacks, to give context of what occurred before the part I.

Part 1

Summary: When dragons of green and dragons of black dance, you have to choose the color that suits you best.

Oh how you rejoiced in taking off to the mountain tops to liberate your mind for a while. You didn’t take after your father, not being a big fan of the sea and sailing, instead, you fell in love with the skies. Silverwing was the best dragon you could ever dream for. Not having hatched one of your own, unlike Laenor, you claimed the she-dragon when you were only nine, you almost gave Rhaenys a heart attack when she was told you’ve been seen soaring the skies atop of her. “Your great grandmother would be proud. But don’t be hot-headed, Y/N.” The Queen Who Never Was remarked. You wore a grin of satisfaction when your mother praised you.

You admired Queen Alysanne, you’ve read all about her contribution to the Realm in the ruling of her husband, King Jaehaerys I, therefore, you aspired to become like her, that’s why you gathered the courage to mount the silvery beast. She was relatively docile and friendly to strangers, so it was natural the bond that bloomed between you.

You lodged in King’s Landing since then, with Silverwing residing in the Dragon Pit with the rest of the dragons.

“Care to join me for a ride, cousin?” Rhaenyra offered beaming.

“Today is your nameday, my Princess. Do you want to spend it with me?” Rhaenyra was turning ten and five, you were the same age and that aided you to feel comfortable around one another. And you found common ground on flying. She nodded eagerly, grabbing gently your forearm.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

How could you refuse the Princess of the Kingdom? You were being reckless and selfish, to say the least. King Viserys and Queen Aemma were hosting a huge feast and jousting to celebrate the “Realm’s Delight”, but she had other plans in mind. You tagged along without a second thought.

“Where are we going?” You asked once you were ready to take depart.

“Home.”

Dragonstone was a short flight from the Capital, the dank island was forsaken, except for a dozen servants that kept the Castle in good conditions. You landed ashore, unsure on why Rhaenyra would want to be there.

“We could move here. Just the two of us.” The Princess’s voice unwavering. You modestly chuckled. After all, it is rightfully mine”

“It would get a bit lonely, don’t you agree?” You demurred, she shook her head.

“Not really, we have Syrax and Silverwing. They can keep us company.”

“Would that suffice, my Princess?” She looked you straight in the eye, you had never felt so intimate with anyone before.

“It would, for me. I’ll never be the son my father so desperately seeks. There’s no place for me there. Not one that will lead me to a happy ending.” The confession staggered your heart, the princess felt so alone, so isolated, under the shadow of an unborn male child. “We could visit Driftmark from time to time. I know you’d miss your family.” She insisted, you contemplated this absurd notion for a minute.

“What about Alicent?”

“What about her?”

“Wouldn’t you miss her?”

“Would you?”

“Yes. She’s our friend.”

“She’s way too dutiful. She will marry soon and forget about us.”

“You reckon?”

“We could do as we pleased here. I needn’t worry about you marrying some fat Lord. We could wed instead, I’ve read about the ancient Valyrian ceremonies. I would make you happy.” There was no malice, nor ambition, solely innocence and hope. You were bewildered, couldn’t believe what Rhaenyra was professing, she was not jesting. Her stomach knotted, worried you’d look at her with disgust, but you cupped her face in your hands. The moonlight shone on the water and on her blue eyes. Rhaenyra has never looked more beautiful, her hair waving gracefully in the blowing wind, her lips so inviting, flushed cheeks.

The naive, ingenious part of you wanted to seal your consent with a fiery kiss, your first kiss. To affirm to her that you would marry her to the tradition of your Houses. Then that vision faded in your mind, she was the Princess, the only child of the King & Queen. That hunch… telling you she was destined for something greater than breaking the rules and committing this kind of madness. It could never be.

“Nyke’m isse jorrāelagon rūsīr ao. (I’m in love with you) Even if for some bizarre reason my father decided to make me his pronounced heir. I would give it up, I’d give everything up to be with you. In a heartbeat.” In this moment in time, Rhaenyra bared her deepest desires and dreams to you. Despite this, you balked off. Fixing your coat and climbing on Silverwing before she could stop you, dodging her face. This was the right thing to do, the wise action. They wouldn’t let you be together, she was more than you deserved. You felt like an absolute coward, you were. The silver dragon flapped her wings into the night sky, heading back to King’s Landing.

Syrax hopelessly yowled. Which meant she was feeling her rider's heartache.

**********

There are days… where you find yourself wishing you had said yes to Rhaenyra, to had carried on with her unhinged proposal. Your parents haven’t urged you to get married, for which you were grateful for. After the incident with the Princess at Dragonstone, you grew asunder. She avoided you like the plague, barely granting you a word when in the same space. Whereas with Lady Alicent, you only grew closer. You enjoyed her company, and making her laugh.

“Do you get homesick?” Alicent asked while reading a book with you laying on her lap.

“Of course. Being apart from my siblings is hard. But being here allows me to spend time with you. That’s a fair exchange.” You missed the way Alicent blushed. “Do you?”

“Yes, I miss my brother Gwayne. My cousins. Hightower was warmer… I felt closer to the Gods. And to my mother.” You knew she still had a difficult time recalling the demise of her mother.

“Let’s pay a visit to Oldtown then.” You bluntly suggested, attempting to lift her spirts. Alicent giggled.

“It’s a prolonged way from the Keep. It’d take months… my father won’t let me be absent for that long.”

“Lucky for you. I happen to know someone who could take us there in no time.” You smirked, Alicent understanding now who your carriage was.

“Y/N, are you out of your mind! I would fall off Silverwing somewhere across the Roseroad and my body would never be located.” You chuckled at her overemphasis more so cause she possessed a serious look on her delicate features.

“Don’t be dramatic, Alicent. You’d be clutching my waist the entire flight. I’ll have the dragon keepers saddle her properly for your safety. It would be an unforgettable quest. C’mon, my lady. Picture it, instead of reading old tales and histories we can have an experience of our own. We can even make a quick stop on Highgarden, have you been there?” Alicent did want to go, it felt like a lifetime opportunity. If only she wasn’t terrified of mounting a dragon…

“The many rivers, the canal crisscross and its cobbled streets, the breathtaking mansions. I wish to see the place where you grew up. Please?”

It didn’t take much to convince Alicent, she was surprised herself. She was willing to overcome her fear for those beasts… if it meant to share this voyage with you.

Alicent approached your dragon with dread creeping in. “Touch her.” You encouraged her, she delayed, you guided her fingers to the long neck of Silverwing.

“Promise me if I die you’ll say to my family that I’m sorry and that I love them.” Alicent quipped but did mean it. You pressed a peck to her temple to soothe her.

“I’d never let anything happen to you.” That was all the reassurance Alicent needed.

“May I?” You asked gently.

“You may.” You helped her climb, following behind, she cleaved steady your lower back. “I still don’t know how I persuaded my father to let me go.”

“He was in a good mood, I guess. Now, don’t make a hasty move cause if you do Silverwing might toss us away by accident.” You tried to feign a serious tone. She stiffened and tighten her grip, you bursted out laughing again and she nudged you softly.

“Y/N! Don’t tease.”

“Sorry sorry. You’re stuck with me. Sōvēs, Silverwing!” The ride to her home was pure bliss. She never would have wager that she’d enjoy riding in dragonback. She wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of it or the mere fact that you were the one with her. That was the very journey that showed her what true love felt like. Disguised as adventurous friendship, she realized she was head over heels for you.

**********

It hasn't been long since you returned to the Capital from your excursion with Lady Alicent. You sat next to her at the tournaments, this time celebrating the upcoming birth of the King's first son. Rhaenyra watched you from her seat. You felt quite uncomfortable, more so because that fire inside you kept burning wildly whenever she was around. There was a new knight in town, Criston Cole, you overheard, the Realm’s Delight seemed smitten by him, and you suddenly felt sick, jealousy twisting in, you paid no attention, Alicent was gossiping about the other participants.

Queen Aemma died in childbirth, you wished you were there for Rhaenyra, but she built her walls higher than they have ever been.

Rhaenyra was proclaimed heir by the King, as you once suspect it would happen. She’s destined for greater things. The same tape replaying in your head. The Lords from all across the Kingdoms swore fealty to her, your House among them.

A few moons passed and Alicent was betrothed to the King, news that surprised Rhaenyra, though not you. It relieved you, for he wasn’t to take you nor little Laena to wife. Alicent has told you about her private visits to Viserys, solemnly swearing it was his father’s goal all along.

“My interest for men is as dull as dishwater.” She commented one day. Gaining your curiosity.

“Whatever do you mean? I know you desire not to marry him. Does that…-“

“I’m not going to elaborate. Just… remember this. I will always be yours.”

“Wha-“

“I need to prepare. See you at the ceremony, lady Y/N.” She ran out, leaving you very, very confused.

**********

It’s been four years since the royal wedding. Four years since you decided to leave court to be with your family and stop pondering about her, or rather, about them. Then proceeded to head for the fighting on the Stepstones, aiming to bring some help to your father and brother, only to be dismissed upon your arrival. You argued with your sire at the Valeryon camp on Dwarfstone. “No, Y/N. Not a chance.” Corlys rejected you. There was no bargain on the table. “This is no playground, no training yard. This is a dangerous zone. I cannot and will not risk your life.”

“But father- my dragon can make the difference, I’m capable of fighting as well-“

“I know, sweet daughter. I know you are. Even more capable than half my men here, but you are no soldier, Y/N. You have no practice in these things. I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen while you’re in this bloodshed.” Your father finished explaining his concern. You were upset about it, by all means. How were you to learn if not by being in an actual war.

That didn’t halt you though. Laenor disagreed at the beginning. Unhappy to oblige to your request, you implored for his help on this one. And so he gave it. He unfolded the plan of supposedly surrender to the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy, proposing a desperate gambit, using Daemon as bait to lure the Crabfeeder's forces into the open to eliminate them all at once. “Gods be good, if father kills me after this, know that it’ll be on you.”

You ready yourself, locating on the top of the highest peak, standing by until further signal from Laenor.

It was time when you spotted Seasmoke emerged. You trailed behind them, setting ablaze the Triarchy soldiers astride Silverwing, wiping out the archers overlooking the battlefield. A lost arrow almost hitting you, you dodged it effectively. As they forced reel, Corlys and Vaemond leaded a brutal counterattack against the enemy, while Daemon pursued Drahar into the caves. As the Velaryon forces claimed victory, Daemon dragged the upper half of Drahar's bisected corpse behind him. Your father’s vassals gazed upon the skies to find you and your she-dragon roaring with strength.

**********

You were back at Driftmark. Your father scolded you, and Laenor. But it was worth it, you knew deep down he was proud of you. Quite the woman you were becoming, what did you need a husband for?

Your mother welcomed you with a hug that lasted for hours, she also reprimanded you though, “Still hot-headed.” And Laena hugged you as well. “I can’t believe you went off to war to escape your feelings from a certain Targaryen princess.” Your sister hissed, mocking you.

“I can’t believe you claimed Vhagar.” She smiled warmly at you. “I’ve missed you, little sister.”

“So have I.” Then you proceeded to visit your dragons.

**********

“Rhaenyra flew in here weeks ago. You were on the Stepstones. She seemed to be in a hurry. Like she sought rescue.” Laena nonchalantly depicted. Why would she?

“What did she want?”

“Other than to say hello to her favorite cousin, I have no idea. She said something about the King organizing a tour for her with the most noble lords in the Realm. At this time, she is to continue holding audiences for her hand in marriage.”

“Oh?” Rhaenyra on the search for a husband… that didn’t sit well with you.

“She’s to be here too.” The youngest Valeryon added.

“I doubt that she’ll find her golden knight here.” You scoffed, you couldn’t face her, not yet. “However, none of my business.” Laena looked at you incredulously but didn’t push it. “I will go to King’s Landing to check on the Queen. I didn’t even say goodbye the last time. Accompany me?”

“I’d love to, but I don’t want to leave mother. And you will surely be wrapped up.”

“Off with me then.” You said your farewells to your parents & siblings and set your route to the Capital.

**********

It was perfect timing, you thought. The Princess was touring the Realm, therefore she wouldn’t be any near the Keep, you could visit Alicent without fretting of seeing Rhaenyra.

You still loved her, that was very much true. It was different now though… you felt braver than you did those days back in Dragonstone when you fled and abandoned her. You owe an apology, to both of them really. “I’ll always be yours.” What did Alicent mean with that? Always be your best friend? Did she was enamored by you? Was that another reason for the girls to be in odds with one another? Were you to blame?

You arrived at the gates of the castle, you were nervous but masked it pretty well, then proceeded to greet the King, “Lady Y/N! So good to have you back. Your non-appearance hasn’t gone unnoticed.” Viserys hospitably welcomed you.

“Thank you, your Grace. I’ve missed it as badly. How’s Princess Rhaenyra?”

“She’s… disobeying me as usual. Don’t know if you are aware but we arranged a tour for her to choose her own consort. Yet she came back earlier than scheduled, moons for it to be over.” You opened your eyes in realization of what that meant, fortunately Viserys didn’t notice it.

“I see, your grace. That sounds a lot like her.”

“You’ve grown distant. That saddens me. Since her fifteenth nameday she’s hasn’t been the same, she’s upset and depressed. Perhaps you could rekindle your relation with her now that you’re both around.” He encouraged you, you played the part.

“You’re right, you’re Grace. That would warm my heart, hopefully hers too.” Rhaenyra did remember what happened that evening, it still burdened her, guilt swamping all over.

The tide was set the other way around. But you longed to see her, them.

Daemon was there, as expected. And you were invited to the gathering held in the goodswood to the younger prince’s honor. The King got somewhat drunk, and was sharing stories of his teenage years along with Daemon, who had a smirk on his face. The Queen and the Princess were there as well.

“Oh lady Y/N. Glad you could join us.” Viserys alluded to you in such an effortless manner, you approached them, situating in between him and Rhaenyra. “You know, this is also for you. I heard about your bravery on the latest war. You did brought fire and blood to the enemy. What is it you want as a reward for your courage? Never would expect you were a warrior but you are very much like your sire Lord Corlys.” Daemon sniggered under his teeth, and Alicent was blowed.

“It is not glory I’m after, nor a reward, your Grace. But I truly appreciate your nice words.”

“How modest. You’re one of a kind, my lady. Lucky the man that gets to keep you.”

“Yes, indeed very lucky.” Daemon mocked. You paid no mind. Viserys spoke again. Did the prince was always this annoying?

“My lady wife has told me about the trip you once ventured in together. Wandering the skies on dragonback. If I had a dragon myself, I could take her on a similar adventure. Just like my grandparents once did.”

“Yes, husband. I had a great time with lady Y/N. We visited the Citadel also, it was magical. I cherish it dearly.” Alicent reminisced fondly, so did you. The Princess shifted awkwardly.

“If you excuse me, I’ll go see the new tapestries displayed in the gallery.” She excused herself and dashed from you. Daemon tracking after her.

Shortly after, you requested to speak to the Queen alone.

“Before I start apologizing, let my tell you. You look stunning in that dress.”

“I was not sure that the Targaryen colors would fit me.” Alicent bashfully answered the compliment. You admired her under the afterglow.

“They certainly do. Red and black highlight your skin, your Grace.” She was as red as the morning sun, feeling like lady Alicent Hightower again, not “The Queen.”

“You flatter me. But what is that that I heard that you went to war? You didn’t even say goodbye, Y/N. I was left alone.” You felt bad, too selfish really to stick around Alicent’s side, but living in the same place that the silver-head was way too intoxicating, you wagered she hated you, not realizing you had hurt Her Grace along the way. “I…- realized that I have few friends lately.”

“I’m sorry, Alicent. I needed time away from court and also, you had your duties. Tending to the King, looking after your children. I can’t wait to meet the little princelings.” She softened, albeit, it was true, she had limited time to spare yet she would have found it for you.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You came back.”

“The King requests your presence, my Queen.” Rhaenyra declared, faking a courtesy.

“Thank you, stepdaughter.” She barely spared a glance to the Princess. “We will resume our conversation later.” You bowed and she was gone. Rhaenyra was walking away from you.

“Princess… may I speak with you for a minute?” You attempted. Rhaenyra didn’t stop her pace. “Rhaenyra.”

“My uncle is waiting for me.”

“How long are you going to ignore me?” The question coming more like an accusation. She turned around.

“I? You were the one that brushed me aside years ago. You didn’t care about seeking me out. You then left the city. You return and launch into her arms first. I do not owe you anything, Y/N” You didn’t have a reply, for it was the truth.

You did jilt her, and she was far from being over it. But you fairly did leave because you loved her, more than your heart could admit, and the fact that you couldn't be with her was too much to bear. Little did you know that that was all she wanted, even though you spurned her once you were younger, she still wished to court you, woo you. You were dying to tell her she swept you off your feet a long while back.

A big terrible lack of communication set your paradise ablaze, the two of you burned and turned to cinders, but… where there were fire, ashes remain, right? You were a wine stained gown, one Rhaenyra could no longer wear.

**********

Did Rhaenyra resented you? Or did she harbored her old feelings for you? She was a mystery, one you wanted to unravel. You love her, not past tense. You love her in the present.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t resume your talk with Her Grace, a servant girl came shyly to inform you that she was nursing her newborn daughter Haelena, and later the King might “need” her. You didn’t dwell on the last part, as it was a duty she had, yet in her face was written her distaste for her obligations.

Later that evening you derived in a lengthen bath. You lit up some candles, wrote a couple of letters meant for Driftmark and leaned on the big window frame that had a gorgeous view of the city. The Dragonpit and the Sept could be spotted from there. Averting your thoughts as far as possible from the Targaryen Princess, to no avail, then back to the young Queen, “Alicent must be exhausted, the King ought to let her have a break” you pondered.

When slumber was finally kicking in, all of the sudden, you listened loud thumps on your door, it startled you. One, two, three times in a row. You rose and unlocked it to find the culprit of your insomnia. The Princess was wearing common page-boy’s clothes. Her hair was messy, her lips slightly swallowed? She was trying to catch her breath.

“Ummh…-“ She studied you for a lingering moment.

“Are you not going to let me through?” You stepped aside while you closed the door. Puzzled and doubtful of her abrupt appearance.

“The hour is quite late, Princess. Are you lost?” You cursed and cringed at the dumb question you had just made. “Are you tipsy? And why are you wearing that?” Rhaenyra seemed overwhelmed by your interrogation.

“Nyke’ve missed ao, ao kostagon’t imagine skorkydoso olvie.” (I’ve missed you, you cannot imagine how much) The Realm’s Delight blunted out, you hardened. It does something to you when she starts speaking in Valyrian… “Skoro syt haven’t ao sought issa hen? (Why haven’t you sought me out?) Ao jikagon naejot zȳhon, se dōrī rūsīr issa. Skoro syt?” (You go to her, and not to me. Why?) Rhaenyra inquired with bitterness in her airing. You focused on your feet, a coward you were.

“Nyke…-“ (I…) What the hell were you suppose to say? She horned in, stepping closer to you. The atmosphere growing thicker and thicker.

“Ao fucking gūrotan zȳhon isse Silverwing. (You fucking took her on Silverwing) She snarled. Gaomagon ao jorrāelagon zȳhon?” (Do you love her?) Mere inches from your mouth, Rhaenyra stood dangerously near, not being cautious at all. You were to give in. “Daor, ao don’t. Ao jorrāelagon issa.” (No, you don’t. You love me) That was an statement. Her body was calling on you. You melted under her fiery, powerful gaze and grabbed onto dear life to her waist, splashing your lips with hers with pure desire.

Those embers rising from the dead, turning into raging flames. Rhaenyra shoved you roughly to your bed muttering no more word, she unbuttoned her shirt, removed your own garments just as rapidly, you were now completely naked.

“Take off my pants.” She commanded, you unfastened the zip and she climbed to your lap, tangling herself onto you, kissing you again. “I want your fingers inside me, your mouth, I want you.” She impeled, a wild animal ready to attack their prey. “I need you.”

Rhaenyra mentioned nothing about loving you that night, nothing about running away together or anything of the sort. Her hunger and thirst for you the only things present in that room. She was intoxicating, addicting, all your cares in the world gone once you were inside her and she you. Nothing else mattered.

You’ve been up in the clouds with her, and now you understood what it felt like to be consumed by dragon fire.

**********

The aftermath of such events have not left consequences, but what you learned afterwards stirred your feels.

In the morrow, the sun rays were making their way in, you found a small letter under your pillow, you unfolded it and peeped at Rhaenyra’s fancy handwriting. “Rhaenagon issa rȳ Rhaeny’s Hill, nyke jaelagon naejot show ao mirros.” (Meet me at Rhaeny’s Hill, I want to show you something)

You were beyond content for the night prior, Rhaenyra was all you ever wanted, the love of your life, you naively convinced yourself. Mayhaps this time around you could declare your love, flee to Dragonstone and wed. Fuck them all, you thought. We will make our stand if anyone should dare oppose. Surely she would leave it all behind, like she said those years ago.

There was already another potential heir, Aegon, Alicent’s son would be accepted, all Viserys had to do was change the proclamation. Rhaenyra and you could have your happy ending.

You were on your way to assemble with her, but halted on the way to glimpse at Rhaenyra and Alicent seemingly arguing. You’ve never been one to eavesdrop, yet curiosity got the best of you.

“What happened last night, Rhaenyra?” Alicent bluntly asked, she was taken aback. So were you. Alicent was angry no doubt. “My father made worrying allegations, that you’ve been with your uncle.”

“Well, yes. I haven’t seen him in years. We went out to have some fun in the city. What of it? Other than sneaking out of the castle and drinking wine. I did not do anything serious.”

“He said that you fucked Daemon in a pleasure house!” Alicent lowered her tone and curtly exclaimed, you made sense of the sentence. Your heart sank at it. Did she? she was with you…

“That is a vile accusation.” Rhaenyra retorted.

“You Targaryens do have queer costumes.”

“Daemon took me to several taverns, we got very drunk, yes. I wanted to go home but he wished to continue. He was my escort and without him I couldn’t head back, we ended up in a brothel, we did see a show there but I was solely a spectator. Then he ran off with some whore therefore I had to make my way to the Keep on my own anyway.” She concluded by embellishing word-for-word that "Daemon never touched her" at all and swore this on her mother's memory. If that was the version she had explained to you, would you actually believe it? Nothing else happened… Something was amiss.

“How do you think Y/N will react to these news?”

“She need not to find out.” Rhaenyra was now… planning on deliberating keeping secrets from you. Not from your protection but to save face. She went to you the way she did, because she WAS to have sex with Daemon but he got cold feet, so she then went to her alternative, to satisfy her own needs, ones aroused by another person? Your eyes were welling with sour tears. You were only a second choice, she didn’t miss you, she didn’t even love you anymore. You were merely a vessel, one she needed to find release, no love was involved.

“Why do you keep behaving like this, after me and the King have strived to find you a good, suitable match, you go putting yourself in a position where your virtue could be call into question. Spitting the ones that care?”

You ran off, unable to keep listening to the bickering, you climbed onto your dragon as fast as you could, shrugging off the one belonging to the culprit of your crying. You didn’t show to the Hill, for obvious reasons. Leaving Rhaenyra waiting until sundown with your favorite flowers and the same unhinged proposal.

**********

A couple of days have passed and you barely have spent time in the castle, instead riding all day. Alicent haven’t told you what she has learned, yet the rumors were all around like flies. You knew she didn’t because she was trying to shield you, to spare you the pain, not to save Rhaenyra of shame.

On the the third day since the conversation between them, it was announced that you would be traveling to High Tide, to propose the marriage between your brother Laenor and Rhaenyra. It hasn’t even been a week yet and now this? Rhaenyra was becoming your sister? The Gods were being cruel to you, punishing you for your sins, most likely. You knew of Laenor’s nature, as he did yours. As a matter of fact, your parents also knew, Corlys only to waved it off describing them as “phases”.

Lord Lyonel Strong has been made the new Hand of the King, surely Rhaenyra had Ser Otto dismissed from his rank for filling her father’s ears with his denouncements. He has always been calculated, he wants a Hightower on the throne.

It was good to be back, home always offering some fresh air. Laena politely invited the guests in, in the courtyard was Laenor with Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, a good friend of yours too, and his closest “companion”. You hugged them tightly, no welcoming party for your father was one to hold grudges, since the King rejected both his offers to marry their daughters a rift has been set between House Velaryon and the Iron Throne, you never would have wed His Grace though, thanks the heavens he didn’t persuade it nor ponder about the it too much.

“It is so rare to see you on a boat.” Your mother jested. “You never grant Silverwing a break.” You tittered warmly.

“Wherever has Laena gone to?”

“She’s with Rhaenyra. They’re having breakfast. Wanna join them?”

“No, no. It’s fine, I’m not hungry. How’s Meleys?” You shifted awkwardly and changed the subject, staring at the sea.

“Are you okay, daughter?” She looked at you expectantly. “I know that your love for her runs deep. I’m your mother, dear. A mother knows her children’s heart. Don’t shun your emotions, my darling girl. There’s nothing to be embarrass of. This is what’s best for our Houses, for the Realm. Your brother will do a good consort, your father may take advantage for his pride, know that I do not. I care about your happiness as well, you’ll find a pretty lady, or a maiden, you’ll find someone for you to spend your life with. That in my bones I know. And your mother will support you no matter what.” Rhaenys embraced you firmly, pecking your forehead. How lucky you were to have her.

Laenor encountered you nearby the beach. He approached you.

“I’m not enthusiastic for this marriage, Y/N. Not more than you, or her. It does not mean anything, I have just talked to her… we’ve come to a mutual arrangement; we will perform our duty for our families, produce heirs… but otherwise we will both continue having our own private romantic relationships. It will be hard, painful even. I am sorry, Y/N, so so sorry.”

“If I was a man, I could wed her instead of you. Everything would be perfect. Everything. A secret behind close doors…- I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Joffrey agreed to it. Better than nothing, better to lose you. She is very keen to you, she claimed to love somebody, genuinely… she did not say who. But she assured it, she was referring to you, Y/N.”

“It is not your fault, Laenor. I… I’m doomed to feel the way I do. I wish I could get over her and go on with my life.” There was resentment in your voice, hurt.

He gave you an apologetic smile, and squeezed your hand in a comforting manner. You would care not for the Throne nor political station, but for taking her to wife, a sad, sad reality.

**********

You were prepared to set sail, this time your whole family attending the latest royal wedding. You couldn’t find sleep as usual and headed to the balcony of the castle. A turmoil, one you so wretchedly wanted to get rid of.

“You are very, very elusive, my lady.” Rhaenyra’s voice startled you, your only exit was jumping off the cliff. “I’ve been trying to locate you.”

“Princess.” Again, she looked gorgeous, her hair down on her shoulders.

“You didn’t show up. Are we back here again?” We shared that night together, we were one. And yet… I’m once more a stranger to you?” She spat, wounded by your actions as if you were the one to blame.

“You got what you wanted, Rhaenyra. You have no use for me now.”

“What? What are you talking about? I need you, Y/N. Now more than ever.” She strolled closer, attempting to caress you. You deflected, her touch would only ignite a further wildfire.

“You needed somebody to fuck with!”

“Has Alicent uttered her gossips again? She does that to tear us apart, she’s always aiming for that.”

“No, Rhaenyra. Alicent has nothing to do with this, drop it.”

“My lady… I’m so confused right now. I came to you because I did miss you, we were separated for too long it was time we reconciled. I still want you, Y/N. As much as I did when we were fifteen. Things have changed, I’m the heir to the Throne, I’m to marry your brother, who would have visualized any of this? There’s a role I got to fulfill now, something that’s bigger than both of us. But that does not mean that we cannot still be intimate, I spoke to Laenor about it and he’s agreed.”

“You want me as what, as a lover? A friend? A companion? A whore?” The last noun was a whack to Rhaenyra, a punch to her heart and an insult to her alone.

“You’re unbelievable.” She stormed out from the rooftop, leaving you sniveling, for the hundredth time.

**********

The long-awaited royal wedding ceremonies finally began; first a grand feast in the Red Keep, to be followed by seven days of tournaments and spectacle, culminating with the marriage ceremony. The Velaryons arrived on their dragons, Laenor on Seasmoke, Laena on the older Vaghar, and your mother Rhaenys on the Red Queen, Meleys. Meanwhile, your father Corlys, yourself and the full Velaryon fleet rolled in the harbour, (Silverwing was nesting on the Dragonpit) as the city's bells tolled out to greeting you for the festivities. Alicent saluted you warmly, taking in your accent, you reciprocated.

At the Great Hall; Viserys and Rhaenyra sat at the middle of the high table set up in front of the throne's base and received each group of Lords with their respective families. You decided to contrast your sibling’s outfits by wearing an imposing golden dress. At the high table you sat beside Rhaenys and Laena. Daemon appeared out of nowhere, but you paid no heed to him.

Shortly after, Alicent entered through the main doors, intentionally interrupting the King in the middle of his speech. She was dressing in a green gown, her features cold as ice.

You engaged in a cordial chat with some of the Tyrell acquaintances you’ve made while visting Highgarden, Rhaenyra and Laenor were on the dance floor sharing the first ball, couples following behind.

“May I have this dance, my lady?” The youngest son of Lord Tully submitted his hand to you, he was being a total gentleman, but the glare Rhaenyra sent his way shot to kill.

You flown graciously side by side to her, cursing your pace, she saw this a good opportunity to whisper with audacity; Issi ao naejot sagon bisa āeksio’s, līve pār? (Are you to be this lord’s whore, then?) Rhaenyra taunted you, thanks the Gods no one there understood Valyrian, you didn’t get the chance to defend yourself at her boldly rudeness when you were swapped to dance with Laenor.

“You’ll have dozens of suitors after my wedding, dear sister. I bet none of them will be as infatuated with you as the Green Queen herself.” You poked him softly, he chortled. From across the room, Alicent was staring at you in awe, she was drooling and she care not to camouflage it.

However, you got distracted when you observed Rhaenyra and Daemon speaking to one another awfully close, it angered you, how dare them? Your blood boiling ever hotter when he grabbed harshly her cheeks, in an attempt to kiss her. The entire Hall was interrupted by a piercing cry from a different part of the feast floor.

A brawl has broken out in the packed room, but it became clear that at the center of it Criston Cole has begun pummeling Joffrey Lonmouth. Your brother managed to struggle his way through to them and tackled Criston off Joffrey, but Criston rose and punched out Laenor, resuming his aggressive punches. You watched from afar, having reached the high table, you spotted Rhaenyra being carried in the arms of Harwin Strong, you sighed but worried for your brother. That fucker murdered your brother’s lover and no one did nothing to seize him.

As the result of it, some hours later, all of the guests have been ordered out and King Viserys has cancelled the seven days of festivities and games leading to the wedding ceremony. Instead, determined to finish this as quickly as possible, Viserys called in the High Septon to wed Rhaenyra and Laenor in a private exchange of vows in front of their respective parents and close advisors, you among them of course, too shocked for the queer behavior of that “knight” (if he can be considered as that anymore). They were proclaimed husband and wife, Rhaenyra pretended you were not there, your heart breaking for the whole situation, and for the loss of your friend and your brother’s paramount. Alicent in the other corner with Viserys, he dropped to the floor in a full faint. They are not to consummate their marriage tonight, that was unquestionable.

**********

You felt nauseous, tossing and turning, you wanted to go flying but Silverwing was most certainly napping, you didn’t want to bother her just because you were a mess, again. The way Daemon and Rhaenyra were interacting with each other, you were repulsed by his fucking cockiness in her fucking wedding, her disrespectful and degrading comment. Recalling not so long ago she was in a brothel with him doing the Gods know what, jealousy, anger, sadness… all flooding you. And to make matters worse, she was officially married to Laenor, how were you to endure it? She didn’t fight for you, didn’t show you more than lust. It was too much, simply too much.

You got out of your chambers and found yourself on the Queen’s quarters, fortunately the King was beyond worn out from today to request her, you didn’t bother on waiting for Ser Harold to announce your presence, you shouted for her. “My Queen! My Queen!” You alarmed her and she was confused as to why would you be yelling her name this tardy.

“Ser Harold, you may go. Lady Y/N, come on in.” He did as instructed, you walked inside, she scowled, was she angry now too?

“Would you slap me if I were to kiss you right now, your Grace?” You cut to the chase. “May I?” Already breathing her in.

“You may.”

You pulled Alicent to you, pressed her mouth to yours, she was indeed mad, for Criston has told her he eavesdropped the night the accusation of the Princess and her uncle transpired, he longed for her as well, so out of range, by the brief chat he had with Ser Joffrey, and the constant rejection of the Princess, he had a breakdown. Alicent’s heart broke too, but in all honesty she saw it coming, she was only relived neither of you could get the other one with child, yet her hatred for Rhaenyra only grew darker. Alicent loathed Rhaenyra, but she did not despised you, on the contrary, she adored you with all her might, she was sick of being repressed by her feelings, by her “sins”, that she bursted and kissed you back like she’s never kissed anyone before.

She undressed more than her body to you, she demonstrated all the things she’s been feeling since you were on dragonback together, not a speck of regret in her. She was shy at first, way too unexperienced unlike the Princess, altogether she find out women are the only ones that make her feel this way. Never one of breaking vows, that night she stopped being a wife, a queen, she was a teenage girl making love with the one she loved, and you, you took her as she was, a mother of two, the consort of the King, a childhood friend. You were to discover your feelings for her, and it wasn’t like you were using her to get the Targaryen Princess out of your system… for it was impossible. It was all connected, but that night you made sure to reciprocate all that Alicent felt for you, and it wasn’t one sided at all.

#game of thrones fic #got #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen x reader#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower x reader #alicent x reader #alicent hightower #the blacks #the greens #the blacks vs the greens

460 notes · View notes