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wildwheezy · 2 months

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that should be me ✧ s.r.

spencer reid x fem!reader

[2.0k] summary: on a night out with the team, you find yourself bothered by spencer's newfound female attention

The bar was buzzing with loud music overhead and conversations between strangers. The lights were dim, casting a warm ambiance around the room as people ordered drinks, danced, and chatted with those around them. You scratched at the label on your beer bottle with your thumb as you looked around, eyes flitting from person to person, searching. You sat at a table over in the corner with Emily and Penelope, waiting for Spencer and Derek to return with the next round of drinks.

“Where the hell are Reid and Morgan?”

You glanced over at Emily, shrugging your shoulders, taking the last swig of your beer. They’ve been gone for almost thirty minutes. Your eyes scanned the bar again, searching for the familiar duo.

“Oh, I think I see them,” Penelope said, pointing toward the other end of the bar.

You shifted your gaze in the direction of her finger and felt your breath catch in your throat. Indeed, there they were. With two girls. Two very pretty girls.

“I am not surprised in the slightest,” Emily commented, shaking her head.

You didn’t pay much attention to the girl talking to Derek, instead staying focused on the brunette girl that was currently laughing at something Spencer said. She was on the shorter side, not even reaching Spencer’s shoulders, and was wearing a short purple dress that hugged her petite figure. You watched as she pushed her chest out, leaning in closer to him as he continued to talk, wide smile plastered on her face. Lord knows what he was even saying to her, probably something about the effects alcohol can have on the brain.

“That one girl is all over Reid,” Penelope pointed out.

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” you replied, voice tense. Then, “Do you think he looks into her?”

“It’s Reid. He probably has no idea that girl’s even into him,” Emily said, chuckling softly.

You shifted in your seat, uncomfortable with the situation occurring across the bar. Your lips tugged down in a frown, a displeased expression growing on your face.

“I mean, yeah, but do you think he’d like... go home with her?” you asked, twisting your empty beer bottle between your hands, trying to sound nonchalant.

Emily and Penelope shared knowing looks at that. They could read you like a book.

“It sounds like someone’s feeling a little upset that boy wonder’s attention isn’t all on her tonight like it usually is,” Penelope teased, eyeing you across the table. Emily hummed in agreement.

Your mouth dropped open, heat rising to your cheeks. “His attention is not always on me,” you defended weakly.

“Oh, bullshit,” Emily laughed. “We’re like chopped liver to him whenever it comes to you.”

Your relationship with Spencer was…a little complicated, to put it simply. You weren’t exactly together, but there was something between the two of you. It was kind of an unspoken thing. There was an obvious attraction there, but neither of you were brave enough to actually act on it. So, instead, you skirted around each other with flirtatious comments here and there and fleeting, accidental touches. You two were always wrapped up in each other, like you were in a bubble that shielded you from the outside world. Nothing has ever happened, though, despite how much you would like it to. It was almost painful, how much you wanted him.

You glanced back over at Spencer, watching him laugh with his new companion. They looked closer together than they were two minutes ago, and you felt your heart sink in your chest. “I guess he’s switching it up for the night,” you sighed, feeling defeated.

You technically weren’t even together, so you shouldn’t feel as hurt as you do, but you couldn’t ignore that twisted feeling in your gut.

Penelope frowned at you. “No, kiddo, don’t think like that. Try not to read too much into it, I’m sure he’s just being nice.” She reached over to rest her hand on your arm, trying her best to be comforting. “Besides, she’s not even that pretty.”

You side-eyed her. “Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

Penelope winced. “Okay, maybe that was a lie. But still, there’s no way he’s into her like that.”

“Yeah, that boy only has eyes for you,” Emily reassured, giving you a soft smile.

You appreciated your friends’ effort to make you feel better, but it was hard to believe them when he was still across the bar with this new mystery girl. “How come he’s still talking to her, then?”

“Okay, now you’re just torturing yourself. Let’s try to not focus on where Reid is and what he’s doing and go dance instead.” Penelope stood up from the table abruptly, tugging on your arm for you to do the same.

You hesitated, unsure. “I don’t know, Pen.”

“C’mon, it’ll keep you distracted,” she reasoned, voice sing-songy.

“Fine,” you said reluctantly, slowly standing up from your seat. “I’m gonna need a drink first, though.”

“Say no more. You coming, Em?”

Emily was already standing before she finished her sentence. “Of course, I am. What kind of question is that?”

________

Penelope was right: dancing was the perfect distraction. You were about four drinks in now, feeling the rhythm of the music and rocking your body in tune to it. Your clothes were starting to stick to your body, the air around you hot and thick as you moved with the people around you. You had no idea if Spencer was still with that girl but you hadn’t really thought much about it, not while you were feeling this good.

And so what if he was? Yeah, sure, it bothered you, but you really had no place to pass judgment given your current situation with each other. He was free to do whatever, and whoever, he wanted. Even if you hated it.

You downed the rest of your drink, twirling around to face your friends to let them know you needed another one. Penelope and Emily held their own drinks up in response, signaling that they were also ready for another round. You nodded then maneuvered your way through moving bodies, careful not to bump into anyone, and walked over to the bar.

It was crowded, making it a challenge to get the bartender’s attention. You stumbled a little where you stood, feeling the effects of the alcohol more now that you were no longer dancing. You looked around trying to see if you could spot Spencer or Derek, but no luck. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as your mind started to wander about where Spencer could be. He probably left with her.

A hand touched the small of your back, causing you to startle and drawing you back to the present. You quickly turned, catching a glimpse of the culprit who caused your heart to jump into your throat. Your eyes roamed over the familiar tall figure, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. Relief flooded your body as you realized who it was.

“Jesus, Spence, you scared me,” you said, slowly regaining control of your breathing.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. His hand played with the thin strap of your shirt, fixing it from where it was sliding off your shoulder. “Where have you been? You’re all sweaty.”

“Oh, uh,” you started, pointing over to where Emily and Penelople were. “I was dancing.”

The corners of his lips tugged up in an amused smile. “You? Dancing? Who’s idea was that?”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, teasingly elbowing him in the ribs. “I’m a good dancer.”

His eyebrows raised, giving you a look that clearly meant he didn’t believe you. “In your dreams, maybe.”

“Shut up,” you said playfully, slightly offended. Your face dropped then, remembering why you were dancing in the first place. You turned away from him and back toward the bar, finally close enough to order your drinks. “So…where’s that girl you’ve been talking to all night?”

Spencer reached a hand up and rubbed at the back of his neck: a nervous habit of his that you've picked up on over the years. “I think she left. I told her I needed to get back to my friends.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you blew her off, she seemed like was all over you,” you replied, trying your best to keep your tone even.

“She was nice, just…not really my type,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“No? Why were you with her for so long then?” you asked, a hint of jealousy laced throughout your voice.

Spencer shot you a questioning look at that. “Are you okay? You seem…off.”

“You study behavior for a living and that’s the best you could come up with? That I seem off?” His eyes widened at your response and you sighed, regretting your choice of words. “Sorry, that was mean.”

You felt his hand on your arm, pulling you away from the bar and over toward the table you all were at when you first got here.

“What are you doing? I need to get the drinks,” you protested, pouting.

“The drinks can wait. What’s going on with you?”

You avoided eye contact with him, instead looking down at your shoes, focusing on the scuff mark near your big toe. “Nothing,” you mumbled.

His fingers brushed along the underside of your jaw, tilting your chin upwards to look at him. “It’s not nothing,” he said softly. “Talk to me.”

It was hard not to give in with those brown eyes staring into your soul. You could fight him off as much as you wanted, but you knew you would cave eventually. You reached up to grab at the hand on your chin, pushing it away, and confessed, “It bothered me…seeing you with her.” You’re not even sure why you told him that, but you blamed it on the liquid courage currently flowing through your veins. Stupid alcohol.

“Why?” he asked.

You looked at him, pleading. “You know why.”

“I know, but I wanna hear you say it.”

“Spence,” you whispered. You doubt he even heard you with all the noise around you.

As much as you would love to tell him how much he means to you and what you feel for him, it was too hard. Like telling him would ruin the cute, flirty bubble you two found yourself in a majority of the time. And what would the team think, if you two were to actually get together? How would that affect the dynamic between all of you? It was just too risky, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to take that leap.

But then again, fuck it.

Your eyes searched his before you reached forward and grabbed his face with both hands, surging up to crush your mouths together. Your lips slotted against his, letting out a sigh as his hands wrapped around your waist to pull you closer. Every thought you had in your head vanished, completely focused on the man in front of you. One of your hands slipped back to tangle in his hair as you explored his mouth, stomach tingling with the sensation, feeling warm all over.

Hesitantly, Spencer pulled away, a sound of protest slipping from your lips. His chest was moving up and down, eyes hooded as he looked down at you. He opened his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” you said, breathless, smiling up at him.

“You should’ve done it sooner.” He grinned back at you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes and behind your ear. “And just so you know, I haven’t been interested in anyone but you for a very long time.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, warming your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed, nodding.

“Good.” You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, soft and gentle. “Wanna get out of here with me?”

“Absolutely. I’ve wanted to leave since we first got here,” he said, face completely serious.

You chuckled at that, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the bar. This is not how you anticipated your night ending, but you really couldn’t complain.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #wheezy writes

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moonydustx · 2 months

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A not so funny story

requests | mastelist

Summary: With Uta controlling everyone and the marine attacking, you needed to contain an unconscious Law who was looking to join the fight. Now, you need to deal with the consequences of him finding out about this.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

Warnings: blood, Law hurts Reader (not on purpose), they both love each other, but they are idiots who don't know how to talk. Law doesn't know how to express his feelings in this one. Angst, kinda fluff/happy ending.

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: I just saw the movie Red and the idea came to my mind. I need to shake off the rust and get back to writing, I thought it would be a good solution. Despite being linked to the film OP Red, there may be some things that differ from the canon.

For those who haven't seen the film, a spoiler-free context: in the film, we see a singer called Uta, who Bepo is a fan of and, together with Law, go to the show. Problems happen, she puts everyone to sleep and with her power, she manipulates these sleeping people to fight with other people who want to stop her.

italics apply to flashbacks and thoughts

Part 2 | Part 3 (NSFW)

The cold stone beneath you contrasted with your hot, sweaty body. You could feel the wounds burning on your body and if you reached out your hand, you could find the cause of them, your captain.

In the distance, you could hear someone calling your name and it didn't take long for Penguin to appear in your field of vision.

"Are you okay?"

"He gave me a hard time, but I'm fine. And you?" You grumbled, sitting up and taking in your surroundings. Apparently everyone had gone back to sleep.

"We're tired but fine. You're bleeding, do you need any help?"

"Everything is fine." You stood, with his help. "We need to get them out of here, I doubt the marines will miss the chance to catch so many pirates gathered in one place. At the very least, this will end in a fight."

You chose to help carry Bepo back to Polar Tang. Even though he was big, sharing the weight would be much easier than carrying Law alone. As soon as you entered the submarine, you disappeared from sight, leaving all of Uta's fight behind.

"Do you guys need help? I can see some pretty bad injuries from here." Ikkaku approached, already stopping the blood on your forehead. "Are they both okay?"

"We should take them to the infirmary and keep them under observation." you warned, seeing two other crew members carry them out of sight. "Can we get away from the fight?"

"Yeah, off their radar." someone answered you in the background.

"Perfect, keep us at this depth, keep an eye on the radios, any sign of change, if Law hasn't woken up, you look for me." You leaned against one of the tables, trying to ignore some of the pain in your body.

It was supposed to be just a quick show, at least that's what Bepo had said. Unfortunately for Law, he ended up being the polar bear's requested companion.

"Sure you don't want to change places with me?" Law appeared next to you, while you finished cleaning the kitchen.

"No captain, I'll be right here, with my duties." You smiled at him and, despite being frustrated, he let out a sideways smile.

"You know that I'm the captain right? That I can give the order and you have to go and I don't."

"You wouldn't be so mean, would you?" you asked indignantly and on one of the few occasions, you heard him laugh, even if it was low tone. "Captain!"

"I'm kidding. Just keep an eye on everything, okay? Don't let Shachi and Penguin cause any trouble."

"Yes, sir. And you, enjoy the show."

You were almost regretting not accepting the proposal. Law would certainly be much better at containing you and preventing you from getting into a big fight than you would be doing the opposite. But you liked the idea of him trusting you.

"Everything is alright?" Ikkaku took you out of your reverie, noticing your body slightly bent and the blood falling on your forehead.

"Try holding back a furious Trafalgar Law from wanting to get into a fight and tell me if that's okay." You laughed, even though it took some of the air out of you. "Just a few bruises, nothing major."

"Come on, I'll help you take care of this." Ikkaku gently pulled you by the hand.

"Boys, do you deal with them?" you asked and they both nodded. "If Law wakes up, don't say anything to him about our little fight."

"You mean, about the big fucking beating he gave you?" Shachi teased you, earning a push.

"Exactly. He has bigger problems to worry about than dealing with this."

You and Ikkaku headed towards the dorm you shared. Your friend made a point of supporting you at every step, even if you insisted it wasn't necessary. She sat you down on the bed and grabbed a small first aid kit hidden on one of the shelves.

"Why not tell the captain?"

"Outch" you mumbled with one of the stitches she had on your face. "I have a feeling he's not going to like that we got into this fight without his presence."

"I think he'll be more resentful that you were the one who held him back." You laughed at her silly observation, then grumbled with another needle. Damn fight. "Don't act stupid."

"What you mean?"

"I'll let you choose. Between you being the only one who can steal books from him without him complaining or about every time we disembark, you having to be on his side. Should I mention that time he freaked out because Kid wanted to take you to the crew from him?" she laughed to herself, at her own memory. "What do you need to see that he likes you too?"

"And who said I like him?"

"Okay, you still want to keep hiding your feelings for him, just hide it better." she laughed again. It was clear to her - and anyone else who saw - that there was something between the two of you. You just prefer not to feed this illusion. "Still, I agree that he won't like all this one bit. Let's try to keep out of his sight."

Law was still trying to assimilate everything that happened. Uta's show had turned into a war scene and in the end, even he had become a puppet. That idea would haunt him for a long time.

Despite recent events, Polar Tang was quiet, too quiet. He could hear some buzzing, nothing he could identify. Another thing he couldn't place was you. The last time he saw you, he had tried to bargain for your presence at the show, even though he had asked to change places with you, he didn't think the idea of going with you was bad. You'd probably hate the song, but he'd enjoy your sarcastic comments about any awkward situation. A small laugh crossed his lips when he thought about what you would say to see little Bepo.

At dinner, he observed Shachi, Penguin and Bepo, talking to each other. The concerned expressions denoted the seriousness of the matter, but that could come later. Even though he slept through it all, he still felt tired.

At lunch the next day, again, nothing from you. Ikkaku was also missing. It was impossible for the two of them to have disappeared together and without any justification. He tried not to think about the worst-case scenarios, but no matter how much he denied it, he wasn't such an optimistic person.

It only took a few seconds of your three companions stalling for him to know that you and Ikkaku were up to something or had already been up to something. He left them behind, following with firm steps to your room.

"I didn't see you two at lunch or yesterday at dinner, I wanted to know..." you two found Law leaning against the door of your room. His relaxed position disappeared in seconds when he looked at where Ikkaku's hand joined your forehead. "What happened?"

"Just a few scratches, nothing major." your colleague replied before you could open your mouth. She knew - actually, you weren't that good at hiding it - about your feelings and how easily you could wrap your head around your own words.

"Yeah, they're from yesterday, some scratches." you tried to complement, the captain's serious expression made it clear that that hadn't helped at all.

"Nothing much and that's why you haven't shown up since yesterday?" he grumbled and before he could continue his lecture, he felt his body being pushed forward, with Bepo, Shachi and Penguin falling beside him. "What the fuck?"

"We just wanted to know if you already know that she was the one..." before the bear finished speaking, the other two covered his mouth.

The grey eyes trailed from you to Ikkaku, to the group lying next to him, and back to you again. The small stress that was forming inside Law turned into concern when he saw the small trickle of blood dripping from your eyebrow.

It only took a few moments away for you to appear like that and he would never tolerate that, you didn't need to know about his feelings or how he was already thinking about taking revenge on whoever had done that, he would deal with it after taking care of your wound .

"Everyone out." you made to follow Ikkaku, stopping a few meters away. "Not you, I need to see this."

The door to the small room knocked subtly behind Law, who waited for a few seconds to approach you. The two of you already had a considerable height difference, but when you felt Law's cold, tattooed fingers on your chin, you felt even smaller. He turned both sides of your face, despite the cold touch, you could feel your skin burn beneath his fingers.

"You're warm, but I don't see any trace of infection." Not this one, you thought. "Give me the name?"

"Name?"

"Which idiot did this?" he replied without much patience, his fingers leaving your face behind.

"This is going to be a funny story." you laughed, stopping immediately when you saw him look deep into your eyes, his expression serious in an almost irritating way.

"Someone decided to hurt one of my crew. I don't think it's such a funny story. Who did it?"

"Captain of the Heart Pirates, Trafalgar Law." your answer didn't seem to catch him instantly, with each word that left your mouth, you could see him getting paler and paler. "I believe you already know, but Uta managed to control everyone who was asleep to attack the pirates and the marines and with that, you and Bepo were also controlled. The boys held Bepo and I had to deal with you, but everything is fine. "

"They told me about Bepo..." he seemed lost for words, taking a certain distance from you and leaning on the small table in your room. "So you restrained me, alone?"

"You, actually Uta, didn't have access to your Devil Fruit powers, it ended up being easier. After all, our mission was just to keep you two away from the navy." you explained, leaning on the opposite side to where he was, seeing his crestfallen expression. "Like I said, it's okay captain."

"Where else did I hurt you?" the question took you by surprise, making it difficult to hide your reaction. "I know my strength, I have a feeling it wasn't just that. I could see it myself, but I trust you, so please."

With your fists clenched and your gaze following your every step, Law could see your hand go to your ribs, along with a grumble, as you bent down to pick up a small cloth and fill it with something that smelled similar to alcohol. As much as he noticed you trying hard, he could see you limping. He watched you smear the contents on one of your cheeks and your arm, revealing some bruises.

You stopped in front of him, letting him analyze. Despite the pain throughout your body, Law's proximity was almost like an anesthetic. If he stayed there, you wouldn't mind spending the day under his gaze. Law took your arm, gently sliding his fingers under the bruise, watching you flinch in discomfort. His hands practically put your arm back in place and placed themselves on the zipper of your jumpsuit.

Your hands placed themselves next to his, pulling the device and opening the entire piece. Of all the times he had dreamed of touching your skin, none had felt like this. He liked to imagine how soft it would be, to think about how your body would shiver, to feel with his own lips every piece of exposed skin, while he heard you ask for more. All the purple spots he had dreamed of leaving on your skin were nothing like the one he saw. Thoughts would need to be put aside at that moment.

His hand knocked down one side of your jumpsuit, showing the large bruise on your rib, which made him hold his breath for a few seconds.

"What else?" his voice was barely audible. He knew there was more to it, but he didn't want to be invasive.

"Just this cut." you took off the other strap of your jumpsuit and let it fall below your waist, showing the wound on your thigh. It wasn't that big, but when you both looked at the place, you understood where all the warmth in your body was coming from. "Shit. It wasn't like this last time I looked." actually it was, you just wanted to spare him the worry.

You adjusted your jumpsuit, leaving the top hanging around your waist. Your eyes searched for Law's, but he seemed to be far away, even just a few centimeters away. For some time, he didn't say anything. His eyes followed one point you had shown and others, looking for other signs. His hands prostrated in front of his body, why had he done that? Why hurt you?

"Law?"

"I...I..." the words seemed stuck somewhere inside him. His hands placed themselves next to your face, a gesture you hadn't received from him yet. "I don't know how to apologize. Forgive me, I didn't want any of this to happen."

"No need, Law, really. I was doing what any of us would do, taking care of our crew, taking care of our captain."

Again the words seemed to have escaped him. He just wished he could hold you and apologize a thousand times, hold you there and heal every little part of you and never allow anything to hurt you again. Some conscious side of him screamed in the background that this wasn't anyone's fault, but the sound seemed so far away to hear, while the picture of what he had done was so close to him.

A few seconds passed, his hands were still on your face, while you just enjoyed the awkward affection you received. He didn't know how to deal with that feeling, it was a guilt like he had never felt. Along with a fear, a need to see you well. There were too many things to deal with and at that moment, he chose to be the most rational one.

"It's infected and may have broken something." Law let his medical side take control of the situation. "Room. Shambles."

Before you even noticed the blue dome surrounding you, the two of you had already been transported to the infirmary. You remained standing in your place as you watched the captain hurriedly walk around the room, collecting some materials and before you could try to get on the stretcher, the two of you were already being taken to another place.

The table full of books, the small window of the Polar Tang showing some little orange fish passing by outside, a cozy bed, even with the sheets spread out. That definitely wasn't your room. You watched Law leave the materials on the table and reach Kikoku. You saw the blue dome again, this time, you knew that he was using his powers to confirm that you had indeed presented all your injuries to him.

"I was worried about your rib, but apparently it was just the bruise. Now about your leg, I may need to redo those stitches and medicate you. I can't let the infection spread."

You knew he was nervous, bordering on anxious, but you had known him long enough to know that stopping him from treating you would be even worse. You had chosen to hide your injuries so that Law wouldn't feel guilty, now that he knew, you didn't have much else to do.

"Law." you called out to him carefully, as he prepared the medication. "Do you mind if I bathe first?"

"Sure, I mean, no problem. Just wait a second." He walked away from the table and piled up some things, which he handed into your hand. "Here's my towel, I also left some clothes in case you want to use them, if you don't want to, that's okay. I can ask Ikkaku..."

"This is perfect, thank you Law." you hugged the small bundle of clothes close to your body.

"Room." again, in a matter of seconds, you were at the bathroom door. "I'm sorry, but your leg is really hurt, you shouldn't force it while walking."

"Okay" unlike the time he had taken you to the infirmary, now he had transported you close to each other, which made the air disappear from your lungs. "Can you wait for me? I mean, you said I wouldn't I should force my leg and..."

"I'll be outside, just call me and I'll be here." Please call me, Law's inner voice practically screamed.

Your shower was much quicker than you expected. Just knowing that he was waiting for you outside made butterflies fight in your stomach. You gently dried your body and took the clothes he had given you. Something that looked like shorts - it might have been underwear, but you didn't worry about that right now - and a black button-down shirt. As soon as you button the last button, you can pay attention to the smell of the fabric. Something soft, woody, you wondered if that was his scent.

"Law?" All it took was a small call and he soon entered the bathroom. Not as discreetly as he expected, his eyes roamed your body. "Can you help me?"

"Of course" your feet left the floor, giving you a few seconds to assimilate that he had picked you up and carried you back to the room. He hadn't done this before, but you preferred to just enjoy the sensation, locking your arms around his neck.

With a few steps inside the room, he placed you lying on the bed, pulling a rod further to the side, only then did you notice the hanging IV.

Law bent down, reaching your arm level, cleaning it with a small piece of cotton. He looked at the wound on your leg. In silence, he cleaned the area and took some bandages, placing them across the entire length of the wound. The contrast between your warm skin and his cold hands was strangely comfortable. You wished they would last a little longer there.

"I think we can leave these stitches for another day, but I need you to take this medicine. It's an antibiotic, the infection is small, but I'd rather take care of it soon." He pulled the small needle, seeing your face pale. "I'm sorry darling, but it's the best option we have."

Darling.

That word would echo in your mind for a long time. The fear of the needle that was about to come into contact with your skin eased when you saw the care he took with each gesture.

"Just don't look, okay?" He waited for you to close your eyes. "Just a few seconds and that's it. You'll feel sleepy, but that's normal. As soon as you wake up, I'll bring you something to eat."

He got up and started to adjust the pillows on the bed, the ones that were around and under you. His hands rested around your body, his body was on top of yours, even without any immediate contact. It was inevitable not to get lost in his eyes, or see him do the same with yours. You would like to engrave that in your memory, forever.

"Are you comfortable?" his face still had the same tense expression from the first moment he found you in the room.

"I am, I promise." you replied, in a burst of courage, you brought your hand to his face, touching his cheek. "Law, what worries you so much?"

He walked away, sitting at the foot of the bed. You just straightened up so you could look at him. His tattooed hands took off his hat, fingers tangling against the dark strands.

"I can't deal with the fact that I did this. I did this to you. Of all the people that could have been there, I hurt you." he grumbled, turning so he could look at you. "You do not understand."

"Actually, I understand." your answer left him stunned for a few seconds. "But don't blame yourself, you didn't choose this, captain"

"I know, but at the same time..." he huffed, trying to find the right words, which scratched his insides every time he looked at your scourged face. "You understand me, huh? I mean, I don't just see you as a crew member and something tells me you don't just see me as your captain. And knowing that of all the things that could have happened, I hurt you. I promise compensate you for everything."

"About what you said, about what we see in each other." your thought was interrupted by a long yawn. "What should we do about this?" You made to get up, but the IV attached seemed to transmit drowsiness straight to your body. Your eyes were already starting to get heavy.

"That we can deal with this later. You took care of me, now it's my duty to take care of you. For that, you need to rest." His hands reached yours, giving a slight laugh when he saw you fighting with your own eyes, wanting to leave them open. "I promise not to hurt you again or let anyone else hurt you."

Before you fall asleep for good, you can feel his lips on your hand.

#one piece #op imagines #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #no use of y/n #fiction #reader insert #trafalgar law x reader #requests open #one piece film red #heart pirates

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fioiswriting · 6 months

Text

Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew.

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded. He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt. It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation. A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges. And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled. Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger.

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders. Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it. He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own.

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell. Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost. King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you. Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you."

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor. You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back. It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you.

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead. It must have been your imagination. You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest. Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen.

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears.

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets. And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company.

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal. You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead.

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly.

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway.

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him. You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be. You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't."

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs.

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you. You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin. Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall. Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself - but you can't help feeling your heart clench. You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time.

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him. A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly. Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind. A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy. Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips.

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion. You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you.

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit. He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely.

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion.

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly.

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience.

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps.

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you.

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him. He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence. You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious.

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching.

He doesn't let go of you.

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him. It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his.

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you.

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him. You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow.

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other. Your hands are buried in his long silver hair. You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet?

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress.

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices.

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body.

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry. You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable.

You need him.

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears. You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him. It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you.

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting. For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness.

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you. You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy.

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth. You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie. You know you should lie. To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years. You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not."

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips.

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye. It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words. You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath.

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe. It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity. Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know."

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him.

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him. You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up.

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know." Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence. He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions.

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x niece!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic

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lxkeee · 27 days

Text

UNEXPECTED

—ONESHOT

PAIRING: LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM! SINNER! READER

GENRE: not angst:)

WARNINGS: no angst fr

NOTES: When I hit a writing slump in one of my series, I try to write one shots to inspire myself:3

We fall in love with three different people in our lifetime.

First love, this love often happens at a young age. You eventually grow apart or call it quits over silly things. When you get older you may look back and think it wasn't love. But the truth is, it was. It was love for what you knew love to be.

Lucifer fell in love with his best friend, Raphael. She was the only one who believed in his silly dreams when he was still in heaven, that's one of the reasons he fell for the seraphim. He didn't tell her, he didn't get the chance to as unfortunately, Raphael told him about her crush on Azrael.

This made him put a distance between them, despite a breaking heart, he played as her wingman and set her and Azrael up.

Lucifer was proud of himself for doing that, he got to see his best friend to be so happy and in love. He can see how good Azrael is treating her and he knows that she'll be in safe hands.

Second love, the hard one. You get hurt in this one. This love teaches us lessons and makes us stronger. This love includes great pain, lies, betrayal, abuse, drama and damage.

But this is the one where we grow. We realize what we love about love and what we don't love about love.

Now we know the difference between good and bad humans. Now we become closed, careful, cautious and considerate.

We know exactly what we want and don't want.

After Azrael and Raphael got married, it wasn't exactly difficult for Lucifer to move on. He saw how happy she is and he decided that he shouldn't dwell on heartbreaking things. He continues to do his wonderful creations for the world. Raphael remained supportive of him, continuing to believe in his dreams despite the elders not believing in him.

Then came Adam and Lilith, he was mesmerized when he saw Lilith when he visited the Garden of Eden.

He fell in love with her and so did she to him, he listened to her how Adam wasn't treating her right. He couldn't believe a woman like her is treated like that.

He talked about her to Raphael and even though the seraphim was happy for him, she warned him not to do anything stupid. He promised that he wouldn't.

The more time he spent with Lilith, they slowly got to know each other.

He and Lilith shared the same beliefs, causing them to give the fruit of forbidden knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve who gladly accepted.

With that, evil finally found its way to earth. Lucifer and Lilith were both banished into hell for what they had done.

Even though hell was dark, empty, and incredibly hot. He and Lilith managed to make it work. They were madly and deeply in love. Their love bore fruit and that is their beloved daughter, Charlotte Morningstar.

An eternity in hell with his family doesn't seem so bad.

Not all happy things last, slowly his and Lilith's beliefs started to clash once mortal souls slowly came down to hell. Lucifer witnessed the cruelty of mankind, how his actions gave these souls freedom to do incredibly horrifying things.

“This is how they used their free will...?” he asked himself.

He hated it, he lost so much because of the risk he did to give humanity freedom.

Lilith on the other hand, thrived off the evil.

Their differences caused them to split.

He fell into depression, how couldn't he? The woman he loved for so many eons left him? Not only that, his relationship with his daughter is deteriorating. He doesn't even remember when was the last time he held her.

For so many years, he believed that he was unlovable and he was destined to be alone. Why wouldn't he think that when the love of his life, the mother of his daughter left him?

Third love, this one comes blindly. No warning. It creeps on you silently.

You don't go looking for this love.. It comes to you.

You can put up ANY wall you want, it will be broken down. You'll find yourself caring about that person without trying. They look nothing like your usual crush types, but you get lost in their eyes daily. You see beauty in their imperfections. You hide nothing from them. You want marriage and family with them. You thank the universe for them. You truly love them.

It took a while but Lucifer managed to reconnect with his daughter, he promised to be there for her.

He helped her how to get to heaven, he helped her when the extermination happened.

He was proud of himself, promising to help the hotel as he can finally see that his daughter's dreams weren't hopeless. He was filled with hope once more, he wanted to help humanity once more.

It was sudden, no warning. He wasn't even looking for love.

Lucifer found himself staring at the third sinner who joined the hotel, [Y/n]. She joined and he was able to befriend and get to know the sinner.

He showed off his rubber duck collections to her, he thought she would find his hobby silly but turns out she loved it and found it adorable.

It was unexpected.

He suddenly found himself wide awake in his bed at the dead of the night, staring at the ceiling as countless thoughts of [Y/n] filled his mind.

“Uh oh.” he muttered, a realization that he fell for the sinner so suddenly and he fell hard.

He can only think of her bright and sparkly [e/c] eyes, her soft hair, soft skin, her beautiful face, and everything of her.

He groans, “Luciferrrr... you just had to fall for someone so suddenly and that is your friend too.” he groans to himself, mad at himself for falling for someone he thought he could call a friend.

He doesn't want to be friends with her, he wants to be more. He wants to marry her, have a family with her, worship her like the sinner he is.

After coming to the realization, he decided not to confess immediately. Wanting to see how deep his affections for her goes.

And it was deep, it was rock bottom. He was whipped.

He doesn't mind losing himself in the process when he loves her.

He pretended, he hid his feelings. Afraid of losing her.

It took so long, hiding it became unbearable.

He spilled the three words to her, “I like you.” he says so suddenly, he was mesmerized by her that the words came out so suddenly. Catching both him and her off guard.

His eyes widened, slapping a hand over his mouth.

[Y/n] just looked at him with wide eyes, cheeks tinted pink from fluster.

“I-I'm sorry, pretend I didn't say that...” he says, slightly stammering his words. His heart was beating erratically, his hands felt warm against his gloves. His cheeks are warm, warmer than usual. The spots on his cheek have reddened more than usual, almost glowing red.

He covered his face with his hand, embarrassed.

He was expecting that she would be gone once he removed his hands away from his face.

He felt his hand being held by soft ones, removing them from his face.

“Lucifer, look at me.” she says softly to him, he looked at her shyly and with embarrassment. His red eyes finally met [e/c] ones. He admired how beautiful she looked.

Her eyes were looking at him with so much adoration, cheeks flushed, and she was shyly smiling at him.

“Did you mean what you said?” she asked softly, hope evident in her voice.

He gulped nervously but decided to nod at her, a slow shy nod.

He could see how her eyes sparkled, her smile got bigger.

“I'm glad... I like you too, Lucifer.” she admitted softly to him, her voice devoid of any lies and only filled with honesty.

His eyes widened, his cheeks getting warmer.

“Why...? What's something about me to love?” he asked her sadly, avoiding her eyes. He is happy she felt the same but he genuinely can't see himself deserving of love.

“There's nothing about you that I couldn't love, I love everything about you... Lucifer.” she admitted softly, holding his hand with hers.

His breath got caught in his throat, his heart beating erratically against his ribcage.

“I am hard to love.” he says softly, ashamed. He squeezed her hand gently.

“Who said that?” she asked softly.

“Me.”

Her eyes softened, her other hand caressed his cheek adoringly, “Well, you're wrong. I can love you just as easily as breathing.”

Speechless, embarrassed, and flustered. He's not used to such affectionate words said to him.

“Huh...?”

“I meant it.” she says softly, leaning closer to him, “Can I kiss you...?” she asked and he forgot to breathe.

“Y-yes, please...”

Soft lips pressed against his, his eyes closed instinctively as his hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer to him.

They'll be fine. He'll be fine. He has her now.

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achaoticeternal · 1 year

Text

bewitched.

AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM!READER

summary: more word has arrived to you regarding your husbands infidelity. as he returns to you, you present him with a choice. word count: 2k warnings: drinking. strong language. angst. adultery. pain. a/n: see end of the piece for author’s note

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

choose your own ending...

— ending 1.

— ending 2.

— ending 3.

— ending 4.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“My lady,” Your chambermaid spoke from the doorway, returning with a fresh pitcher of wine as you had requested, “Should I see the children to bed?”

“Please do,” Your voice was soft, the words fragile in your solemn state.

“It might be best for you to rest, rather than await the return of Prince Aemond.”

Her words were gentle, simply advising you to take care of yourself. But the fires of hurt and betrayal were already lit.

“What makes you believe that I am awaiting my husband?” With words more venomous than you intended, you bid her leave.

At the sound of the door shutting, you stood and moved toward the pitcher and chalice left idly by the fireplace. You poured the deep red liquid and lifted the cup to your lips, taking a generous gulp. The dull burn allowed some relief to your heightened senses. But you also knew that the alcohol only added fuel to your fire.

Rain began to pour over King’s Landing, softly thudding against the windows and stone of the castle walls. Usually, the rain would lull you to sleep, but it seemed the thunder of the skies only spurred you to continue drowning away the ache in your heart. Your eyes flickered over the second chalice that had been placed on the silver tray with your pitcher. It seemed that the servants expected Aemond to return to the Keep tonight. You were not sure if you wish for him to return or for him to drown in the heavy rains that poured from the sky.

As if the fool perfectly timed you, you glanced out the window to see the silhouette of Vhagar descending toward the Dragon Pits. In a drunken frenzy, you pulled the curtain to cover it, instead, the velvet fabric came down at your harsh tug.

The frustration would nearly boil over, but you did not allow the simple issues to push you over the threshold. As the Queen had often advised you, it was important that a lady bite her tongue and keep her composure even when she is by her lonesome. If someone saw the illusion of a proper lady shatter, it would be nearly impossible to recover from. She even revealed to you how she had come by this knowledge, sharing with you the events that occurred the night Aemond became the one-eyed prince.

Swiftly, you moved back toward the fireplace, picking up the parcel that a raven had delivered directly to you just this morning. It appeared blank to the simple eye, but when you hovered the note over the fire, the message revealed itself. The contents of it were simple, but completely shattered something inside of you:

She is with child.

Though the news had shocked you, the existence of the other woman did not. When Aemond and Daeron laid siege to Harrenhal and the Riverlands, word had traveled through the courts regarding the princes bedding other women. At the time, you had bit your tongue, excusing your husband’s infidelity as you convinced yourself it was just something he used to relieve his stress from battlefields.

But even after the marches through the Riverlands were claimed to be successful and at an end, Aemond would sometimes fly off to Harrenhal. He would say that he was just ensuring the hold that the Greens had on the region, yet you never believed his lies.

It was said that Harrenhal was cursed, blood mixed into the stone that built it. You believed the stories true after the great fire took the lives of Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin when you were a child yourself. But now a curse had attached itself to your husband and kept him crawling back to the towers of Harrenhal.

The door cracked open, the hinges creaking as he entered, exhaustion painted over his face. Aemond was completely drenched, his hair now scrunched into waves rather than falling perfectly straight. Most of his leather overlayer had been discarded for the servants to see to, leaving him in a black tunic and pants with his riding boots.

It took him a few moments, but Aemond quickly came to realize that you were resting by the fire rather than fast asleep in your shared bed.

“Should you not be sleeping, dear wife?” Aemond called out to you while readying himself to turn into bed.

“Sleep has… escaped me recently,” You replied, eyes remaining on the fire. Only at his words did the nerves begin to spur inside you. How would he react when you told him? What would tomorrow bring? None of it really mattered, you supposed, as long as you didn’t allow your nerves to get the best of you.

Now in his proper bedclothes, Aemond began to approach the fireplace. He noticed the half-empty pitcher of wine, slightly shocked that you were partaking this late at night. Usually, you would reserve yourself to only enjoying wine at dinners or feasts, not in your marriage chambers. His eye flickered to the second chalice that sat empty on the silver platter. His slender fingers reached to grasp it, “Would this cup be for me?”

You turned your head, looking between the pitcher and chalice but never into his eye, “The maid brought it with her, probably as a formality. No one expected you back tonight.”

Aemond’s brow furrowed at the tone you spoke with, and it caught the prince off guard when you returned your gaze to the fire rather than continuing to speak with him. He poured his own chalice with wine and allowed himself to enjoy it. He stayed in place, unwavering from his position as he looked down on you.

The air went still… the taste of the wine began to sour in his mouth. He sensed something to be out of place, yet he could not pinpoint it. Usually, you would be elated to see him, but recently you were far more reserved from your husband. Aemond was not sure if he should be upset or concerned, but did not ponder on the thought too much as he allowed himself to attend to his duties rather than his wife.

With a sigh and a light cough to clear his throat, the prince finally spoke once more, “Come to bed…”

The pause settled again before your soft chuckle hung in the air. Quickly, you stood from your seated position and drowned the remainder of your chalice in one swig. You moved to the table and refilled your cup till the pitcher ran dry. Instead of crossing to your bed, you remained standing, only turned away from the man. This behavior caused Aemond to clench his jaw, subduing his urge to correct such disobedience.

“Will you not come to bed with me?” Aemond summoned you again.

Once more you chuckled at him, not sparing him any sort of look from you. Just the cruel chuckle of your acknowledgment.

“Your husband demands��”

“My husband demands me of nothing,” You interrupted him, “And he would do well to find another bed to sleep in or find himself in tonight.”

At your words, Aemond crossed toward you, attempting to snatch the half-drunk chalice of wine from your hands, “It seems you have overindulged yourself. It would do you well to sleep before—”

“Before what? Before I continue to act out of turn?” With a fierce determination, your fingers clutched down onto the chalice so that Aemond could not separate it from you. Your words dripped with poison, “Or before you return to Harrenhal and bed the whore witch?”

At the mention of Alys, both you and Aemond let go of the goblet at the same time and simply watched it fall to the ground, red liquid covering the tile floors.

“It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know or understand.”

“I understand it quite plainly that my husband is now an adulterer, just like his eldest brother and his damned uncle. It seems that disloyalty to marriage is quite a common trait among Targaryen men.”

Quickly, Aemond’s hand came to your throat, gripping the flesh to show how serious he was being, yet not hard enough to asphyxiate you, “Did you not understand my words before, my stupid little wife? It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know…”

“Oh? But I do know…” Your hands grabbed at his forearms, nails sinking into the flesh so that he would release you, “And it would do you well to learn just how smart your wife is…”

“I have known… I have known about Alys since your first rampage through the Riverlands. For moons, I remained confined to the Red Keep from your orders, and when they came to deliver news of you and your victories, I cheered. I still cheered when the maids told me the rumors between you and Alys, because I was grateful to the Seven that you were alive. Because I was still foolish enough to love you far more than you deserve.”

Tears threatened to spill over, but you swallowed them back. You would not allow Aemond the pleasure of your tears, only the fire of your anger.

“She promised me security for my life and the lives of my men,” Aemond attempted to justify himself, “I could not risk it—”

“You could have offered her gold, offered her a title, or anything else besides your body! Instead, you break your vows. And you did not stop there, because you continue to fly back to Harrenhal whenever you desire the witch’s cunt to the point where your son and daughter could not even recognize you if they ever saw you!” You huffed out, scanning his face for any sign of emotion, anything at all.

“You have allowed your lust to overcome you, disappointing your wife, your mother, and the Seven. Worst of all, you shall now have your own bastard. At least this bastard will not be raised of the Street of Silk as your brother’s bastards have.”

“How did you know?” Aemond’s voice cracked while he asked the question, “How do you know she is pregnant?”

A smirk played on your lips at the question, “It seems that the Master of Whispers is a very devoted friend of the Queen, and with the Queen being your mother, she deemed it important enough to share the news with me, your faithful wife.”

His face went pale at the realization of how many people were aware of his infidelity. While Aemond remained silent, you twisted the knife deeper into his chest. You had been tortured with this knowledge for so long that you now enjoyed the pained expression on his face.

“I have always been good to you, devoted to you. Where others cowered from you, I loved you. Despite the warnings of your blood lust and deformity, I loved you and gave you two perfect children who study just as diligently as you once did. So while you found yourself in the arms of another woman, I tried not to curse your name and assure our children that all was well, even if their father would not be present for them. But now, I look at you like a curse upon my life. You have allowed yourself to be corrupted outside our marriage, and I can no longer offer you salvation for your selfishness…”

“What would you have me do?”

You laughed mockingly at his question. Instead of providing a proper answer, you only glared further into his good eye.

“Please,” Aemond gritted his teeth, hating that he allowed himself to beg an answer from you, “Just tell me what I should do!”

“I can not simply tell you what to do. That would be to easy - what lesson would you have learned?” You shook your head and a shuddering breath escaped you.

“You have to make a choice, Aemond,” Your hand gripped his wrist, forcing him to remain attentive to your words, “Either you atone for the sin your committed and the hurt you’ve caused or you reside in Harrenhal for the rest of your days…”

“This is a choice only you can make — a wife or a witch?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: I am considering making a follow-up to this one-shot, a blurb about the outcome of the options that Aemond has... maybe...

#mattie writes #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd angst #alys rivers #aemond targaryen x wife!reader #aemond targaryen x alys #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon aemond #Aegon II Targaryen #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen one shot

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youraverageaemondsimp · 8 months

Text

“Meant for him” // Stalker!Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader [ONE SHOT]

THIS IS A DARK FIC SO PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE INDULGING // based on this request.

WARNINGS: MDNI! heavy noncon to dubcon, canon typical incest, creepy behavior, jealousy, dark!aemond, possessiveness, p in v sex, breeding kink, knife kink, pain kink, dacryphilia(?), violence, + not proofread!

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

You wished you hadn't ventured out alone at this ungodly hour, the keep was deadly silent except your footsteps, you got lost, having not been here for a while and now you were just walking around trying to remember the pathways until you felt someone grab you from behind, slapping a hand over your mouth so you don't scream and dragging you to a more secluded area.

You struggled in the man's tight grip, writhing and kicking, but he remained firm and kept dragging you until he shoved you roughly against the wall, your head making hard contact with the brick wall, causing pain to shoot up your skull, making you close your eyes and wince.

You finally opened them to see the familiar head of platinum-blonde and a violet eye, you frowned, it was your uncle, Aemond.

“Fucking cunt, playing hard to get.” he sneers at you, you felt panic rise in your veins.

Aemond has been after you for many years, from the moment you were born to now, he was ever the dutiful son in everyone's eyes, but to you, he was a force not to be reckoned with.

What started off as curiosity to see his niece at a young age, manifested into pure obsession and twisted love for you, As a child, he had asked his mother to betroth you to him, your age gap wasn't that big, only being two years younger.

Alicent was reluctant at first, because she knew you were a bastard but saw this as an opportunity to make amends, but rhaenyra refused, saying that you were too young, being only seven, and Aemond just nine.

Aemond was frustrated, you were his birthright, you'll be betrothed to him in the future anyway so why not just do it now? He liked you very much, he followed you in secret, when he wasn't studying or training with his brother, he would be stalking you.

He would collect things you left behind to keep as some kind of twisted souvenirs.

And then came the driftmark incident, you weren't involved in any of it, sleeping soundly but you were woken up, being a child, you were terrified when you entered the chamber to find Aemond's face all bloodied up, his face being stitched by the maester, and then you turned your head to the side to find your brothers bloody too, not as much as Aemond, but you rushed over to them.

After they had explained what happened, you felt angry, he insulted your brothers? You also felt bad for him because he lost his eye but it angered you more to see your brothers hurt, you shared the same womb after all.

In that time, Aemond proposed for you to be betrothed to him once again, saying how Lucerys has a debt to pay, but he's willing to move on if your hand is promised to him, and Viserys also thought it was a good idea, but you blatantly refused, in front of everyone.

And then Alicent went crazy, coming towards Lucerys with a knife but your mother had stopped her in time, the situation terrified you, and she slashed your mothers arm when pulling away, and reading the room, Aemond stepped in bitterly, saying it was a fair exchange to de-escalate the situation. Even though he knew deep down that it was never fair.

And that's when his liking for you took a turn, you dared reject him in front of everyone, he never forget about it.

Over the years Alicent has sent few ravens, proposing the same thing over and over again, but you refused when your mother had bought them up, saying you won't be marrying someone that dared to insult your family's honour.

Aemond knew you would say no, but he still asked his mother regardless, Alicent knew her son was going mad and was about to tip over the edge, and she wouldn't know how to deal with that.

Just then, Vaemond bought a petition to question Lucerys' succession to driftmark, and your family returned to the keep, Aemond's mind was racing with your thoughts, he wondered how you looked now, he knew you would've grown into a beautiful woman.

And so when he spotted you with your brothers through his periphery, he was excited and it made him defeat cole in the training, earning applause, before he addressed your brothers, “Nephews, have you come to train?” he asked before focused his attention on them, they were speechless.

“Niece,” he began and you looked at him with a frown, he took in your appearance before a smile grew on his face, “You've grown.” he stated and you never wanted to punch him so bad, that was until you were interrupted by the entrance of Vaemond.

The court had ended with Lucerys being reaffirmed as the heir to driftmark and with Vaemond's head on the floor, cut cleanly by your step father, daemon. You admired him a lot.

Alicent once again proposed your betrothal in private to your mother, as much as your mother loved the idea, she was planning on betrothing you to Cregan stark, and so alicent nodded sadly.

And the dinner? It was a mess.

Everything was fine until Viserys left the room, and the pig arrived, Luke let out mocking laughs looking at Aemond, and so he slammed his fist on the table before picking up the wine glass and toasting to your brothers, he was already pissed off from the news his mother delivered to him before dinner begun and now this ticked him off even further.

'Strong boys.' he had called them, which pissed both Jace and Luke off, and so it ended in such mess, being sent to your chambers by your mother.

You went out for a walk when everyone was asleep, not being able to stand the suffocation in your chambers, you didn't realise then that it would be such a big mistake.

“U-uncle please-” you begged in his grip, his hand shot out to grab your neck, cutting off your air supply which had you choking, clawing at his hands to make him let go of you, kicking your feet.

He pushed you further against the wall before pressing his forehead against yours, “How many years will you have me toiling after you? I fucking wanted you. Yet you refused me. Each and every fucking time.” he grip on your throat tightened, making you see stars and you struggled in his grip.

“You are to be betrothed to Cregan Stark? Do you think he'll marry you if I ruined you?” those words made your eyes widen, surely he isn't suggesting that.

“N-no-” you croak, his hand leaves your throat and you gasp for air, breathing heavily, and then he presses his dagger to your throat, not cutting you but enough to have to stop moving.

He undoes his breeches, pulling out his semi hard cock and giving it a few pumps, you dared not to move because if you did, the dagger would pierce through your skin and you would bleed out.

He began to hike your skirt up gathering them in one place before he pressed himself against you, you sobbed when you felt his cock rubbing against your cunt, he slammed his lips against you in a rough kiss, you didn't kiss him back, just cried. He licked your tears away before pulling back with a smirk. You looked at him with teary eyes.

His free hand cupped your cunt before he rubbed small circles on your clit, you gasp as he presses meanly against the flesh.

Unsatisfied with the position, Aemond throws you onto the ground, you make sure to land on your back and avoid getting your head hurt again, but your back burns with pain at the impact, causing you to wince. Aemond straddles you, skirt gathered in your lap as you cry out, he slaps your face before shutting you up with a hand over your mouth.

“Do you know how much I wanted you? How much I pined after you? You rejected me. I still haven't forgotten.” he spits on your face.

He moves himself down and spreads your legs wide, you try to push him away with your free hands but you fail, he lines up his cock against your entrance before prodding at the opening with it, “A-aemond— uncle, please stop” you say weakly.

He kisses trails kisses up for your neck, before finding your sensitive spot and sucking in the skin there, causing you to whine, he pulls away before grabbing his dagger once again and ripping the bodice of your dress, causing your breasts so spill out of their confines. You gasp when you feel the dagger poke at the flesh, he presses hard for it just sting but not pierce the skin.

He lets go of the dagger before grabbing both your tits and squeezing them roughly before his mouth descends to take one in his mouth, he licks the nipple before sucking on it, your hand flies up to his hair, gripping it tightly, not knowing whether you want to push him away or hold him tight against you.

He leaves your breast with a pop, hearing you gasp, he sat back, admiring how your cunt looks, all wet and dripping, “You're dripping way too much for someone showing such resistance.” he comments before he pokes at your hole his tip, causing you to clench around nothing.

He knows you wouldn't be able to take him, and that he should prepare you first, but he couldn't hold himself back, and without a warning, he shoves himself entirely inside of you, causing you to scream before it gets cut off by him slamming his lips against yours.

The pain was unbearable, he was too big, and you were a maiden too, it was burning and aching so much, but for some reason you liked the burn, the stretch, you thought you were going insane.

He had the basic courtesy of letting you adjust to him, albeit for a moment before he pulled back and started thrusting wildly into your cunt, causing your body to jolt up against the stone floor.

He spread your legs wider, holding them apart from beneath your knees, and you held on to his shoulder for support and threw your head back, feeling pleasure creeping up your spine.

“U-uncle p-please.” you begged, you had no idea what you were begging for anyone, you didn't want to lose yourself and so you tried pushing him away but he didn't budge, and so your hands fell limply to your side as you let him have his way with you.

His good eye was wild, pupil almost engulfing the violet of his eyes, he watched as your breasts bounced up and down as he continued to thrust into your core, before he grabbed them meanly and pinched both your nipples, twisting them causing you gasp in pain.

One hand left your breast to grab the dagger on the floor next to you before he bought it up to your face, tracing it on the side of your cheek, you flinched when you felt the sharp material press against your face, it trailed down to your neck and he light put pressure there, causing the blood to come up to the surface of the skin but not entirely piercing it.

You felt your arousal dripping onto the stones below at that, you felt embarassed, that your body was liking it, he sat back on his haunches and rammed his cock in and out, watching the blood of your maidenhead coat his cock, causing him to let out a small gasp.

He bought your hips onto his lap, the new angle hitting the rough patch inside of you, causing you to mewl, you gripped his arms which held you up by the waist, nails biting into the leather material. “F-fuck, look at your cunt. Gripping me tightly.” he said between heavy breathes, groaning as he felt each and every ridge of your wet heat, making you clench around him.

“Oh gods, you were meant for me.” he breathes

His hand gripped your cheek tightly, parting your lip before he leant down and kissed you, tears flowing freely from your eyes as he licked them and kissed them away. “Shhh, take it like the good girl you are.” he coos in your ears and you just close your eyes.

And then felt the band in your stomach begin to tighten, you knew what this meant, and aemond was able to tell too, by the way your cunt was clenching tightly around him, his hand moved to your bud and rubbed small but fast circles, and you shook your head, “N-no!” you moaned, refusing to let yourself peak but it is violently ripped through when he pressed meanly down onto your clit, cause the band to snap, mouth parted in a silent moan, eyes clenched close.

Your cunt pulsed around him, making him groan at the sensation, he kissed you once again, lips moving against yours in a passionate manner, tongue swiping against your bottom for entrance to which you grant him, too lost in the high.

You were breathing heavily when you felt his thrusts become sloppy, and the way he was groaning, “I'm gonna cum inside of you alright? breed you, watch you swell with my heirs.” he babbles, and you gulp, “beg for it.” he suddenly says and you look at him wide eyed, another orgasm rapidly approaching you.

“P-please aemond—” you groan, feeling his hit the rough patch again, “Please what?” he asks, trying to contain himself from spilling already, “P-please cum inside me- need you.” you beg humiliated and just then your second orgasm hits you hard, causing you to moan loudly.

“F-fuck, I'm gonna make you a mother, you would love that right? and finally I'd be able to marry you, watch your carry my children, you're going to give me so many understand?” he rambles on before he reaches his peak, coming inside you with a satisfied moan, he rides his orgasm out before he pulls out, watching his spend leak out of you.

You thought with a heavy heart on how he ruined you, no man would want you now.

The next morning, your betrothal plan to cregan was called off on your wish, you asked your mother to get you married to Aemond, he has officially ruined you and damned you to himself, and you were only afraid that if he didn't get what he wanted this time, he would go further and kill your any man you get betrothed to.

And so you quickly accepted your fate.

———

#aemond targaryen #x reader #aemond #aemond x reader #reader insert #aemond smut #aemond x fem!reader #dark!aemond x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen #dark!fic #tw: noncon #MAE:DARK!CONTENT #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #dark!hotd #tw: dubcon #tw: violence

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 8 months

Note

What about an angst to fluff where reader and Spencer aren’t exactly dating but they had a date planed and Spencer cancelled cause he had a case. Reader goes to a bar with her friends and sees Spencer walking in with JJ or someone undercover but reader thinks he blew her off for another date…

So Two FBI Agents Walk Into a Bar...

Summary: Reader confronts Spencer after finding him at a bar with another woman.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Slight angst-to-fluff

Word count: 1k

A/N: Thank you for submitting, and thank you thank you for your patience 🩵

The evening was supposed to be perfect. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining the quiet street as the setting sun cast a warm glow over the city. The air was thick with anticipation as you carefully selected your outfit for the night. You had a date planned with Spencer, the enigmatic and brilliant man you’d been getting to know over the past few months. You weren’t officially dating, but the chemistry between you two was undeniable, and this was meant to be a significant step forward.

But life had a way of throwing curveballs. Just hours before your scheduled meet-up, Spencer called to cancel. Granted, you could hear the frustration and exhaustion (because when is he not working) over the phone, the pang of disappointment hitting your core was still hard to ignore. There was an urgent case that apparently demanded his attention, so he had to be there. You hated to understand the demands but simply agreed to postpone your plans and hung up with a sigh.

Instead of moping for the rest of the evening, your friends convinced you to join them at a nearby bar. They promised laughter, good company, and a distraction from the pain that often came with new men in your life. Reluctantly, you agreed and soon found yourself amidst the lively chatter of the bar, a drink clinging to your hand throughout the evening

As the sun began disappearing and evening blended into night, your friends’ laughter became infectious, and you began to relax. You were sharing stories, trading jokes, and momentarily forgetting about the original plans with Spencer. But it was as if the universe heard you because a sudden hush fell over your table as the group’s attention was drawn toward the entrance.

There, walking in, was Spencer. And a woman. A woman who was indeed not you. A leggy blond in a little black dress that, of course (of-fucking-course), looked fantastic on her.

Your heart sank at the sight. Spencer Reid had cancelled your date only to go out with someone else. The initial shock turned into a whirlwind of emotions—hurt, anger, and a sense of betrayal. A full-course meal of confusing feelings right in front of you as you still couldn’t believe your eyes.

Your friends, however, watched in real time as the feelings played out on your face. They exchanged knowing glances as the turmoil only set in further in front of them. And it’s before they have a chance to react that you’ve stormed over to them. Your voice wavered, a mix of anger and hurt trading places as you said, “Seriously, Spencer? You cancelled on me for someone else?” You gestured toward the woman, who was now looking up at you. She had gorgeous blue eyes, and it didn’t help your self-esteem in the slightest. “Does she know you did this? I doubt it.”

Spencer’s own eyes widened at the surprise, and he jumped to his feet. The urgency and frustration (of getting caught, clearly) were just as evident on his face. “Y/N, wait.” He says. “You have it all wrong here.”

You weren’t ready to listen, though. The feelings festering in your body had reached their boiling point, and you were determined to let Spencer feel the burn. “Save it! I can’t believe you would do this to me. I thought we had…” Tears started welling up the moment you felt yourself on a roll, as if tonight couldn’t be more embarrassing. “I thought you were different.”

Spencer took hold of your arm. His grip was firm but not forceful, pulling you into a quieter, more secluded corner of the bar (where your friends could still see you as their heads bobbed from the table like pigeons). “Okay, okay,” Spencer began, whether to you or himself; you couldn’t tell. “Listen, you’re just going to have to trust me on this. That woman, her name is J.J. She’s a co-worker. She’s married, happily married, and we’re working undercover on a case. I didn’t blow you off for a date.”

And it was then; your anger had no choice but to waver. As his words sank in, confusion replaced the initial fury. “Undercover? A case? You mean the case is happening now?”

Spencer nodded, rapidly, like he was on a sugar high. “Yes! Look!" He even messed with the collar on his cardigan, revealing the tiny microphone clipped to it. It blended in with its navy color. “I know it looks bad. I do. But I promise, there’s nothing between me and J.J. It’s all part of the investigation.”

You looked Spencer in the eyes; they were sad and starting to gloss. “So, your people, the others in on the investigation... they can hear you right now?”

Spencer’s lips thinned out. “Yeah.”

“Have they said anything?”

“Morgan’s too busy laughing. I can’t hear anything else.”

The anger began melting away, replaced by a mix of frustration and embarrassment. You looked down, the foolishness of jumping to conclusions finally catching up to you. The scene you made. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst.”

Spencer clipped the mic back into place and gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I understand why you were upset. But just know I would never intentionally hurt you like that.”

You met his gaze, the tension between you easing. “I should have trusted you.”

Spencer’s smile widened slightly as he reached out to cup your cheek. His hand is cold but soft. “So, can we start over?”

You nodded, smiling now. “Yeah, let’s start over.”

Spencer nodded. Plans were already made. Spencer was at work. Before heading back to J.J., Spencer made the gentlemanly choice to walk you back to your group of friends. Before he had a chance to introduce himself and depart gracefully for the night, he jerked down to his mic. “I heard that, Morgan. Hey, at least I have a girlfriend.”

You, however, pretended not to hear. You trust he’ll say it again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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thisblogisaboutabook · 2 months

Text

Rainy Season - Part 6

If You Told Me To

Azriel Eris x Reader

Eris has a little chat with Azriel. As Y/N braces herself to face her mate for the first time since leaving him - she calls in reinforcements. Eris calls in one of his own.

A/n: This is the second to last chapter of the series. Chapter 7 will be the final chapter followed by an epilogue. I have been excited to share this chapter as, lyrically, the song it’s titled after is one of my favorites. Enjoy!

Part 5 Part 7

Warnings: Language

The Shadowsinger sat chained in a cell beneath the Autumn Keep. Comfortably lit, temperature regulated, nothing egregious. There was a dark, selfish part of Eris that would not have minded a bit of suffering to befall the male, a little seemed fair given the hell he’d put Y/N through. But Eris couldn’t do that to her. Certainly there was a small part of the mating instinct that would have left her in pain to see her mate - a title he didn’t deserve - hurting.

Eris begrudgingly placed a glamour over her scent that clung to his skin like fine perfume, such a waste to cover it with his own autumnal blend. It was not his place to explain or unveil anything regarding the relationship between them, Eris would have to tread carefully in his questioning.

He almost, almost said “fuck the glamour” and let that intoxicating-as-hell summer storm scent of hers fill the air and marched straight to the dungeons in his sweats and a linen tee, let him see exactly what Eris had been up to all morning. The look on the Shadowsinger’s face would have been so damned satisfying.

Alas, he chose to play the part of pompous High Lord, dressing in the most lordly of attire.

“Well, well, well, what brings you to my humble abode, Shadowsinger? You could have just knocked.”

Azriel snarled through his gag, nose flaring. To put it lightly, he looked rough. His once golden skin paled, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes, and multiple large purple bruises littered his skin.

“Ah, right.” Eris cleared his throat, giving the tattered male before him a disapproving stare. With a quick flick of his wrist the gag disappeared.

“Just let me fucking talk to her.” Azriel growled, his shadows darkening the cell.

Eris inspected his cuticles, refusing to drop the air of irreverence he’d intentionally given off. “Who would you like to speak with, Shadowsinger?”

“You fucking know.” He growled, rage limning each word.

“Say her name.” Eris replied cooly. Needing to make a point to himself.

“Y/N.”

And in that moment Eris realized just how far gone he was in his desire for Y/N. It was dangerous, the fiery rage that burned through his chest at the sacrilege of her sacred name falling from his desecrated lips.

Though Eris refrained from any external display of that inferno blazing inside of him, the slight tick in his jaw must have given him away to the awaiting Spymaster.

Azriel pulled and jerked with all of his might against the chains and Eris was well aware of his power, the entire Autumn Court was. Eris had backup measures in place that - even with his contempt toward the male - he did not wish to use.

“Stop pulling on the chains, Azriel.” Eris commanded.

The use of his given name instead of Eris’ typical “Shadowsinger” caught Azriel’s attention and the look alone on the his face could have killed a lesser male as Azriel’s furious gaze met Eris’

“If you fucking hurt her, I will rip you apart limb by limb. I will make it slow-“

Eris cut him off. “Was it those theatrics that won her heart, Shadowsinger? Truly, you bore me.” Eris returned to examining his nails.

“Fuck you.” Azriel growled.

Eris would ask Y/N’s forgiveness later for what he was about to say. At least he’d made an honest effort to keep his feelings for her separate from the situation at hand.

Without missing a beat, the High Lord goaded, “Funny you should say that. Was it not your fucking around that put you in this position in the first place?”

Azriel lost it. Eris couldn’t recall a time in his centuries of living that he’d seen such display of rage. He yanked at the chains with all of his might, his centuries of strength training apparent as the sounds of the rage and the grinding of stone on metal filled the cell. His efforts nearly successful in ripping free from the wall.

“I’ve asked you once to quit pulling, Shadowsinger. You are in here with just cause and will answer as such. You can behave like a civil being or continue the brute act and I will be forced to take matters into my own hands.” With that, fire sparked and was contained within his palm.

Azriel banked slightly at the display and for a moment Eris felt a twinge of remorse as his eyes landed on those scarred hands.

“Spare me your pity, High Lord.” Azriel spat the title with venom.

Eris shook his head, pacing alongside the cell. “Oh but I do pity you, Shadowsinger. Not in the way I hold back my fire given your past circumstances, that is basic decency on my part.”

With a mock bow, he continued,

“What I pity is how you wage such concern over Y/N’s well-being within my palace walls while blatantly disregarding the fact that you are the one who broke her with your own two hands. And now that she has built herself back up shard by fractured shard into something far stronger, even more rare than the shining gem she already was, you appear like a thief in the night. What is your plan, Azriel? Are you here to break her again?

Eris stepped closer to the cell. Flame igniting those amber eyes as he crouched down face to face with the bound Shadowsinger, grounding out in a low, predatory tone. “Because you won’t this time. Diamonds don’t crush under pressure.”

And with that, Eris stood back up, placed his hands in his pockets, that casual irreverence once again masking his features. “And I find diamonds to be quite precious, so I’ll be sure to cherish mine with the tender, loving care that she deserves.”

Azriel seethed, shadows raging violently within the cell. And Eris wasn’t certain but he could have sworn that anger was directed at their master himself.

Eris waited for more violence, for the filth that would spill from his mouth but the Shadowsinger only hung his head low, and to Eris’ surprise, large, salty tears began falling from his face.

Eris said nothing as Azriel sobbed. Why kick the male when he’d already downed himself? So Eris stood and waited. Eventually Azriel looked up again, “Please, just let me talk to her.”

Eris paused, taking stock of the broken male before him.

Just when it appeared to Azriel that he’d deny him, Eris replied. “You are fortunate that your mate is far more benevolent than I, she has agreed to speak with you.”

Azriel let out a large, broken sigh of relief.

Eris only smirked. “But she has conditions.”

—————————

I don’t want to look back on these days, knowing all the things you’d never know if I never said a word and let you go.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N.” Eris spoke softly.

“I do, Eris. What he did, it’s too much. Too far. If you weren’t the ruler that you are, this might have been treated as an act of war.”

Eris shook his head. “You’re right. What he did is not acceptable by any means. But you, you shouldn’t have to deal with this after all you’ve been through.”

“It’s the right thing to do.” She spoke firmly.

He pulled her in closely, resting his chin on her head, those warm arms wrapped tightly around her easing the bitter cold threatening to frost her heart. “He never deserved you.”

Eris knew a mask when he saw one. Knew them far too well. Beneath the strong exterior she was presenting, his brave girl was nervous as hell.

I don't want to steal you away or make you change the things that you believe.

Eris escorted Y/N to a large meeting space by a roaring fire, sitting her at the head of the table, he to her right. One with a lesser sense of hearing might have missed the increase of her heart rate. That mask beginning to slip.

“Look at me, minx.”

Her glassy eyes met his as he reached forward, his hands enveloping hers. “You owe nothing to anyone. Nobody. Not to the Night Court, to my Court, or even to the Summer Court beyond what Tarquin has contracted you to do, and you especially owe nothing to the Shadowsinger.”

Her lip quivered and he spared her the discomfort of replying right away by continuing, “If it is your choice to hear him out, I commend you. You are far more brave and strong than you realize, and the fact that you are giving him your time today is an act of kindness in itself. Do not feel that you are obligated to comfort him or give your forgiveness.”

Eris lightly placed a broad palm on her chest. “What’s in there points true. Follow your heart, little fox. Do not do or say anything for anyone’s benefit but your own.”

Eris gave her the time she needed to collect her thoughts. His thumb brushed soothing strokes over the back of her hand as she composed herself.

Her voice cracked only slightly when she asked, “Is what I’m doing wrong? Are my conditions too harsh?”

Eris took a moment. Her heart racing like the best of a hummingbird’s wings as she awaited his response. He didn’t want to steer her any particular direction. Obviously, he wanted her by his side. Hell, he needed her by his side, she was as essential as water to him at this point. But her happiness and well-being mattered more than his needs.

He didn’t want her to go back to the Night Court as he knew Azriel would try convincing her to do. A selfish part of him begged to take her hand and bow on his knees before her. He was at her will and would serve her for the rest of his days should she only ask. But she needed to make this choice for herself. She was a summer storm, his little fox, who was he to stop her from flowing whatever direction she willed its winds to take her.

So, he wouldn’t ask her to stay or think of him at all during this meeting with her mate. However, he would emphasize what she likely already knew, that he had already fallen in love with her. That he fell in love with her spirit the moment that filthy string of curses fell from her pretty mouth when they met that first day. He wouldn’t pressure her by speaking those words aloud just yet, but he could show her in the best way he knew how given the circumstances, by empowering her.

“Y/N,” he broke the silence. “I meant what I told you. What you are doing today is brave. You are strong. To face a male who has not earned your time or presence in front of his own family to hear out his side of things, or whatever it is he wishes to say - you are so much stronger than you realize. Do not worry about what he or anyone at this table will think or feel. You hear him out and you choose what is right for you. The only person owed anything today is you and what you’re owed is peace. You deserve the world, fox.”

Those shining eyes of hers welled up. He lifted her chin with a long finger, “No tears, little one. You go in there and you take your power back. I will be out there.” He nodded toward a corridor to the eastern wing of the keep. “If you need anything at all, I’ll be waiting for you.”

She placed a delicate hand on Eris’ muscled bicep. “Eris…”

“Yes, fox?”

“I don’t want to do this alone.”

I want to drink from the words you say and be everything you need.

The creak of an oak door captured their attention. A sentry entered the room, his steps echoing throughout. “High Lord, Lady, the guests are arriving.” The sentry looked to Eris, “along with the guest you personally requested.”

Y/N turned toward Eris, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Bring her in.” He replied to the sentry, turning to face Y/N. “I thought you may want someone in your corner for this meeting.”

————-

Camila, Y/N’s sister, burst through the door, all bronze skin, bouncing black curls, and smiles. “Sister!!!” She squealed.

Y/N looked to Eris. Immense gratitude radiating from her lovely face. He nodded toward Camila, gesturing to go to her. The sisters ran to eachother, nearly tackling one another to the floor.

Camila giggled, gasping as she fought to catch her breath. “I saw a red-headed male outside with long hair, gorgeous tan skin, a wicked smile, and-“ she whispered not-so-subtly in her sisters ear “worship worthy thighs, handcrafted by the gods themselves.” She dropped the whisper act, continuing, “Oh my gods, Y/N, and a scar over his eye! Giving him that sexy mysterious look that you only ever read about in smutty novels.”

Eris choked as he realized who she was talking about, capturing the attention of Camila. “If I’d known what you were hiding here, High Lord, I’d have ventured over from the Summer Court much sooner.”

“I hate to disappoint you, Camila, but Lucien lives in the Day Court when he’s not at his apartment in Velaris.”

Camila’s mouth dropped into an “O” as she realized who the male was. “Well, onto the next one then. Who else are you hiding around here for me to fall in love with?”

The laughter was broken when the Oak Door opened again, a sentry announcing the next guests. “the High Lord of the Night Court and his general.”

Darkness suddenly overtook the room, and an instinctual part of Y/N caused her to pale. She’d very rarely seen Rhysand’s darkness so adamant, and it was never a good thing. Cassian kept a straight, stoic face, warrior’s stance on full display. This male, this was the Lord of Bloodshed and not the lovable giant she’d known for decades.

She remained frozen, Camila gasping in horror before deciding that she’d rather stare daggers at the brothers of the male who cheated on her little sister. Rhysand took in the room, paying no mind to Camila’s violent glare. When he realized Azriel was not in the room, his eyes landed on Y/N and the darkness immediately faded away. Rhys’ expression softened as he directed his footsteps toward her, opening his mouth to speak, but it was Cassian who yelled, “Y/N babygirl! Look at you!”

The giant male bound right past Rhys, running to her. Leaving no time for Y/N to brace herself as he whisked her up into a bone crushing hug, spinning her in circles. “Fuck, I’ve missed you. Never leave without saying goodbye again.”

As soon as Cassian said it, he faltered, gently setting her back down with his eyes downcast. “I had no idea, Y/N. We only found out the real reason why you left yesterday.”

Eris gave distance to the trio so she could speak with the males, Camila coming to his side. Eris couldn’t help smirking at the glare she gave to the Night Court’s High Lord and Cassian. He leaned in to her ear, his low voice barely a rumble, “I’d never admit this to them but while they are brutes, they’re not so bad.”

Camila only scoffed, waiving a dismissive hand in his direction.

It was true. Rhysand had given her space to heal but regularly sent check-in’s to the Summer and Autumn Court High Lords to ensure her well-being. Both Tarquin and Eris had to swear not to tell her, but Rhysand had contributed significantly to Y/N’s extremely generous salary as emissary between the courts. She didn’t know what emissary’s typically made so she never thought about it, but it certainly was not the substantial amount that she was being paid.

Once Cassian was finished fawning over his “favorite little ass-kicker” Rhys stepped forward.

“Y/N” he said. Eyes roaming up and down her body. She was more filled in and fit than she had been when he last saw her, the radiance had returned to her skin, the light in her eyes shone bright as the stars of Velaris. Gods, he’d forgotten the way his brother’s mate rivaled even the most vibrant of summer sunsets.

She held her chin high, meeting her former High Lord’s violet gaze. Rhys pulled her close and she melted into his arms. Not just her former High Lord but her friend. She knew this. And the warmth of his strong arms embracing her reminded her of exactly that.

That stinging rejection of Azriel’s betrayal had somewhat tainted her view of the Inner Circle’s love for her. They had accepted her into their little family immediately when she and Azriel mated and she thought they’d dismiss her just as quickly when she left.

His breaking of what they had did not change that the inner circle cared for her. Rhys held her close for nearly a minute, burying his face into the top of her head, whispering how sorry he was for not realizing just how awry things had gone with Azriel and Elain. She felt guilty for leaving them.

“Don’t you for one moment regret this, Y/N. You will always have a place in my home but there are bigger things in this world for you.” He nodded toward Eris briefly with a cheeky expression that felt a lot like understanding, approval even.

She swatted at him. “Get out of my head, busybody.”

“It was written all over your face, darling.” He shrugged.

Cassian cut in. “We wanted to come in first to assess the situation. Everyone else is in the entry hall. Are you sure about this, Y/N? You don’t have to see him if you’re not ready.”

Darkness flared around Rhys again as he nodded in agreement.

She stepped to Eris’ side with renewed confidence. “I’m ready.”

Eris commanded his sentries. “Go ahead and bring them in.”

Resisting the urge to press a parting kiss to her forehead, he gave a reassuring brush of his hand against hers and began to step away.

She grabbed his wrist. “Please, stay.”

Her pleading eyes spoke what she couldn’t “I can’t do this without you.”

So, he stayed by her side as they waited for the impending shit show to unfold.

I could be so good at loving you, but only if you told me to.

————————————————-

Tags: @going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious @haechansleafblower @melsunshine @thegirlintheshadows101 @plsfckmern

#sarah j maas #acotar #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #daddy eris #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #acotar x hunter hayes #rainy season

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months

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hi there, could I get poppy playtime (if that is to many characters then just catnap and dogday are fine) with a reader that has pica (if you don't know what that is it is where a person can tend to eat or bite on things not edible, like paper, erasers, eca)

I can do a few!

.....

Huggy (saved/rescued) + Poppy

While in his "idle mode" on the podium, he sees you munching on a piece of paper like lettuce and then plush stuffing like it's cotton candy.

And then you just snatch the key from him and move onto the next puzzle, and he goes "???????"

Why did you eat those things? Did they somehow sustain your hunger?

Huggy only gets to learn more after you save him from falling (and tame him with an actual edible snack you brought along), taking a breather after freeing Poppy from her box.

When he grabs one a random paper, you assume he wants to draw something as a way to communicate...until he starts chowing it down.

In his mind, humans DO eat paper and he's been starving and cannibalizing toys (and trying to eat you) for nothing...

But then he spits it out, picking shredded bits out of his teeth, before glaring at you as if you told him to eat that.

You're a little scared and confused until Poppy explains that he was only trying to mimic what you do, and she asks why you eat such random little things.

Eventually you explain to the pair of your condition called "pica".

You've had it most of your life, with an official diagnosis to boot, but it never really hurt your digestive tract.

Over the years you've cut the habit, although being stuck in this factory meant you had to find other sources of food...even those not even considered food at all.

Some of your coworkers knew about it, and their only complaint was the occasional eraser going missing thanks to you (which you deny stealing...most of the time).

"I always joke about having a cast-iron stomach," you tell the toys. "Food is the least of my......"

But you pause and look at Huggy, realizing he might be offended by you shrugging off food as negligible to your survival.

No matter what, though, it's not gonna stop him from trying different non-food items and seeing what tastes good.

He might've eaten pieces of clothing and plush fabric/stuffing over the years, albeit none of it was delicious by itself.

Dogday

"They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit--fill what feels empty inside themselves."

"Jesus, that sounds horrific." You say as you crunch on a piece of chalk (one of several that you got from the schoolhouse) nonchalantly.

Dogday takes immediate notice and is rather concerned. He knows the chalk and crayons here are made to be non-toxic, but insists they're not safe for human consumption.

He fears it's gonna kill you and begs you to stop, saying you needed to live.

Before you could fully explain your condition, the mini-critters are closing in, so you free him and haul ass out of the playhouse of horrors.

After making it somewhere safe where you could patch him up, he presses you on why you continue to eat all these foreign objects.

But he jumps to the conclusion that you got desperate after running out of food, going mad from hunger like the other toys did...

He recalls Picky Piggy going through something similar, and he gets a bad flashback to the Hour of Joy when he had to stop her from eating Crafty's paint....and the corpse of a Smiling Critter -

"Dogday? Hey stay with me..it's okay. I'm here, I'm here.." You console him, calming him down from his panic attack. "I'm not going crazy, alright? I just have this small condition called pica."

"...p-pica? Oh. I thought...kids grow outta that.." He mutters, finding familiarity with that term.

He's had his fair share of toddlers putting things in their mouth that could be choking hazards.

You shake your head, explaining that it stuck with you, but it doesn't cause your stomach any pain as long as you're careful about what you eat.

Dogday's relieved you're not losing it.

Even so, though, he's gonna feel nervous if he catches you eating another piece of chalk.

But it's just his instincts as a child caretaker, so you couldn't blame him.

Catnap

He hangs out in the shadows for the most part, watching your every move...and he does pick up on your strange habit of eating non-food objects.

It's something orphaned toddlers in the playhouse often did, and he'd see the other Smiling Critters hurry to take the items away from them before any emergencies happened.

But those memories mean nothing to him.

All he's doing is waiting for you to eat the wrong thing and keel over.

Unfortunately for him, you just keep trudging on, munching on a crayon like it's normal before throwing your gas mask back on.

He doesn't know how you manage to stomach so many things, and honestly is kinda envious.

Why can't he and the others sustain their hunger like you did?

It does make for some rather..amusing situations, though. Such as when you're in the smoke factory and use the elevator to escape him.

You just stand there as the doors close, eating some chalk and crunching it loudly without breaking eye contact with Catnap's horrific eldritch form.

Obviously, you're stress-eating at that point, but he doesn't have to know.

Miss Delight

The schoolhouse was like a cafeteria for someone with pica, aka you.

While looking for generators, you just pick up whatever you find: erasers, chalk, crayons, etc. and start biting them, or even chewing and swallowing them.

It only succeeds in angering Miss Delight right away, as she sees you doing all of this and snaps at how "childish" you are for eating things you shouldn't.

But you when shout back that you have pica, the PA system suddenly goes quiet.

Like Dogday and Catnap, that definitely triggered some memories for her, which she dwells on for a while before realizing you were still in the school..

And seeing you eating stuff makes her howling stomach grow louder.

"Barb" says you're mocking her own hunger, especially since she notices you gathering the notes she left around the place, and insists on killing you.

When you finally do encounter her, she is visibly disturbed by you crunching on a piece of chalk and throwing it to the ground to distract her, buying you time to break eye contact and flee.

She calls you "crazy", but you're not the one chasing her with a weapon made of a ruler and colored pencils.

#clanask #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #huggy wuggy #dogday #catnap #miss delight #platonic #headcanons #pica

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mydearesthrry · 9 months

Text

love in secret - h.s.

a/n: ohhhh my loves this one is a mess. please bear with me!!! it gets better. i promise. i love this one so so dearly and its very special to me so please be kind :’( i love you i love you i love you, thank you for choosing to read my work. enjoy <3

🎀 warnings/cw: a really weird creepy uncle (weird comments/advances on yn), a weird creepy guy at a bar, a weird girl at a birthday party, angst, harry yells lol, FLUFF CANT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGHHHH, PROTECTIVERRY nothing too out of the ordinary for me

🐇 pairing: best friend!reader x harry styles to lovers

💐 wc: 5.9k (not edited, completely unproofread)

summary: 5 times when Y/N and harry communicated with just a look to each other, or, 5 times where they just understood.

— 1

The lights in the restaurant were bright. Blinding, really. YN had a hard time even keeping a conversation with someone due to the lights being so bright and her needing to shut her eyes tightly every couple of seconds. It was unfortunate enough that she showed up to the dinner with a headache beginning to brew at the nape of her neck, and she cursed herself in her head at the fact that she let herself just ignore it. The room was filled with loud chatter and laughter, the other patrons enjoying themselves and letting loose with the alcohol provided to them. Her head was hung, hair falling around the sides of her face, allowing for a nice shield to dim the lights a little bit, providing her eyes a little bit of solace from the intrusive brightness.

“Alright y’guys, I’m really tired and I think ‘M gonna head out now.” She could hear Harry announce to the table, pushing his chair back with his legs as he tapped on YN’s thigh with his right hand. Pushing himself up with his legs, he leaned down to whisper a quick ‘get your stuff’ to YN. She agreed without another word, and stood to grab her purse from where it was hung on the chair, pulling it up onto her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling chilly out of nowhere. Harry noticed this– of course he did– and draped the jacket he had resting on his forearm over her shoulders. YN and Harry both said their goodbyes, no one questioning YN packing up her things. Everyone knew that wherever she went he would follow, and wherever he went she would follow.

Slinging his arm over her shoulder, Harry gave one last goodbye from the both of them, before leading her to the back entrance to avoid paparazzi, knowing how much that would hurt her head. He could sense that she was feeling weird from the second she grabbed a seat next to him, but didn’t question her about it. As the night went on, he noticed how she kept blinking harshly, kept rubbing her temples with her fingertips, or rested her forehead on his shoulder for comfort. Suddenly, when she let her head fall, he realized exactly what was happening– she was having a migraine.

Little to no words were shared between them during dinner in an attempt to catch up with their friends who they’d hadn’t seen in a long time, but they were still reminded of each others presence. Harry's been placing soft kisses onto her hair when he felt the weight of her head drop onto his shoulder while also keeping conversation to whoever he was talking to. YN linked their pinky fingers at the beginning of dinner, letting it hang between the two of them for the rest of the night until she had to rub her temples to try and ease the pain. While they didn’t really speak, they had conversations with their eyes that only they could understand.

Harry initially checked on her when she lifted her head from his shoulder the third time, turning his head to look at her only to see that she was already waiting for him. He gave her a look that asked if she was okay, and she answered silently with a small head nod. Even though he didn’t buy it, he left it alone since he knew that they’d be leaving soon anyway.

When she finally got to the sweet solace of Harry’s car, a sigh of relief left her at the darkness inside. The interior of his car was all black with tinted windows, so the dim of the streetlights couldn’t bother her as much either.

“Lovie, y’should’ve told me y’had a migraine, would’ve gotten y’home instantly.” Harry scolds in a low, quiet voice, a frown on his lips when he saw the way she slumped down into the passenger seat, head falling back onto the headrest.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just looked like you were having fun.” She whispered, knowing her voice at full volume would hurt her head.

“Y’are way more important to me than a dinner with our friends. We can see our friends whenever, and it would be much more convenient for the both of us if y’were healthy while doing so.” He grumbled, grabbing the steering wheel with his left hand and reaching over to rest his right hand on her thigh.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear I’m such a burden,” She spat, voice still low. She opened her eyes when she heard nothing but silence to see Harry giving her a look to which she sighed at, grabbing his hand to twist the rings around on his fingers. “I know what you mean. Jus’ being stubborn right now.”

He snorts, “Trust me, I know. ‘S like it’s y’middle name.” He squeezes her hand at the soft laugh she gives, his heart pumping the slightest bit faster.

“Back to mine?” He whispers.

“Obviously.”

— 2

YN rested her back along the arm of the couch, knees pulled up so that she only took up one cushion. Even if the rest of the couch was completely unoccupied beside her, she wanted to be as respectful as possible. The room was almost full by the way producers, writers, and managers scattered around, but she was only there for one of them; the boy in the booth. Harry’s been recording for about 2 hours now and she knew that he was overdue for a break, however, she also knew that he wouldn’t step foot outside of the booth until what he recorded was 100% to his liking, and they both knew that his perfectionist tendencies was his vice.

She sat around for a bit longer, silently playing games on her phone mindlessly while periodically checking the time, until she heard a muffled shout come from the booth– the booth that she knew only had Harry in it. Looking up, she saw Harry with the studio headphones pulled down to hang around his neck, stepping to the side so he wouldn’t be shouting into the microphone. She rolled her eyes and stared at him in annoyance, waiting until he would eventually catch her gaze. Right when he did, he could already see the look in her eyes which made him look down ashamedly, taking the headphones from his neck to put on the mic stand, coming out of the booth like a puppy with its tail between its legs. He already knew he was about to get chewed out by the way she looked at him, almost disappointed by the way he seemed to lack self care when he was working.

“Can we break for a minute, everyone? 30 minutes, tops.” She said loudly enough so everyone could hear her. Everyone immediately agreed and began to shuffle out of the room, leaving only YN and Harry in the space. Once the final person left and they heard the door click shut, she turned her head back to him with a distinct glimmer in her eyes.

“Really, H?” She sighed, gesturing to him to join her on the couch. She slid her legs down and opened them a little, already knowing that he was going to fall and put his entire weight onto her. And she was right. The second she opened her arms, he slumped down into a sitting position at first, before laying down with his head resting just below her chin, head turned toward the soundboard with a pout on his raspberry lips.

“I know, ‘M sorry,” He sighed, arms coming round to rest underneath her back in a loose hold, trying to get as much comfort as possible. “Jus’ hate when it doesn’t come out exactly how I envisioned it.”

“I know, but overworking yourself and your precious voice doesn’t equate to anything and it especially won’t equate to perfection if you’re tired. Looking at it all, especially from my perspective, it jus’ looks like you’re being mean. Like, lashing out on all of those people… they’re tired too, bub. They don’t deserve this kind of treatment from you, especially not when you can help it. Are you seeing what I mean?” She tried to lay it out in the most delicate way possible while also knocking some sense into him, and it all started to make sense to him after all.

“You do know you need to apologize to them, right?” She mutters into his hair, pressing the tiniest of kisses to his hair.

“I know. You’re right. I mean, you’re always right, but you’re especially right, right now. I dunno how y’always know me, or how you always know how t’make it better.” Harry grumbled. He hated this part. He hated when what he was envisioning didn’t come to full fruition right away.

“It’s because I’m your best friend,” She could feel the way they both collectively tensed at her words, “It’s just what I do. I know you better than anyone else in this world and I have since we were toddlers. There’s no way you can be surprised now, ‘M basically your only friend.”

He laughed along with her, trying his best to mask the rejection he felt when he heard her say that she was his best friend. “Y’are, lovie. The only one who knows me like this.”

She hummed. “The only one who ever will,” She said in full conviction. He lifted his head to meet her eyes, their faces close to each other. He could feel her breath on his face, and when he went to lift himself up a little to be able to meet her lips, she cleared her throat and nudged up a bit, creating distance between them.

Tangling her fingers back into his hair, she awkwardly whispered, “Now, rest for a little bit, bub. I’ll wake you up when they’re ready to go.”

— 3

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for YN and Harry to have dinner with each other’s families, but there was something about tonight that made the both of them have a weird twinge in their stomachs that tonight would be different. It started off normal, really. They showed up to YN’s parents house, one of her hands pushed into the crook of his arm. YN had a bottle of wine in her other hand while Harry had his shoved into his pocket. Ringing the doorbell, there was something about the lack of commotion coming from inside that made them share a weird glance, before they shrugged their shoulders in unison and put it to the side when they heard the lock click.

YN’s mom opened the door with a sheepish grin on her face, and YN already knew she was going to spew out an apology for something.

“Hi, my loves, missed you. But, before you both come in,” Her mom wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist, “Uncle Rick is here.”

YN and Harry both groaned, already dreading the dinner that hadn’t even started. They knew something was up when they didn’t hear the shouts of little kids wrestling each other to get to the door, and now it was completely explained why.

Uncle Rick was her dad’s estranged brother who had only started coming around 5 or 6 Christmases ago, and the entire family has had a weird dislike for him since the beginning. He was creepy! As simple as that. He used to make weird comments on her and her sisters bodies, and he liked to talk to Harry about how much money Harry had, while also trying to push out a sob story so Harry would flit him some cash. It never worked, by the way.

“That explains why the rascals weren’t here t’open the door,” Harry muttered, an annoyed and pouty look already on his face. He was excited to see the little ones, and they weren’t even here!

“Harry, stop with the look, don’t be a brat. Both of you, lighten up! I dislike him as much as you do but you two are the only ones who showed up for dinner. Your sisters bailed the second I mentioned him, so please just try to be nice?” YN’s mom scolded Harry. Since they’ve known each other since they were practically still in diapers, she treated him like her own and Anne did the same for YN.

“I’ll try,” Harry grumbled, patting YN’s bum when her mom stepped out of the way to let them in. Unhooking their arms from each other, they pushed their coats off and hung them up. Turning to each other, they shared a look before inhaling deeply at the same time, entwining fingers. “We got this, lovie. I believe in us.”

YN only nodded, trudging forward with him trailing behind her, his arm lifting a bit from the small pull where their hands were conjoined. Walking into the kitchen, she greeted her dad with a side hug in an attempt to not let go of Harry, before pulling back to let Harry greet him as well. They stepped back and looked at her dad expectantly, a sigh emitting when he saw their faces. “Sorry, kiddos. Would’ve told you, but mom wanted you guys to be here to keep us sane.”

“It’s okay, dad, but you have to shut him down if he says something about me. You promised last time.” She sighed, leaning into Harry the slightest bit for no reason other than familiarity and comfort.

“I will, Princess. I promise.” He shook his head fast, immediately abiding to the promise he made a couple of months ago.

“Alright, bub, let’s go say hi,” YN mentally prepared herself as they walked over to the living room, humming when her mom told her to get him for dinner. YN subconsciously tightened her grip on Harry’s hand, him doing the same. “Hi Uncle Rick, you remember Harry, right?”

“How couldn’t I remember? Y’bring that bugger around more than anyone else, I woulda thought he got you locked down. Quite annoying, that one is.” Uncle Rick’s feet were propped up onto the coffee table, a feeling of disgust already swirling in both of their chest when they could smell the mix of beer and smoke oozing from his pores.

“Um– He’s literally right here, and you just called him annoying?” She said quite exasperatedly, a muffled groan leaving her lips. “Whatever, it’s fine. Mom wanted us to tell you that dinner’s ready.”

“God, finally! Your moms been taking forever, annoying how long she takes to get everything ready. I mean, isn’t that her job? To cook and clean? She does a pretty shit job at it if I’m honest.” The man groaned, struggling to even get off the couch. He walked past them and placed a hand on YN’s waist when he passed by, making her jump and twist into the front of Harry’s body. He caught her with ease, letting go of her hand to wrap his arms around her body. He could feel how tense she was, her unease and anger radiating off of her in waves.

“Fuck. My. Life.” She muttered, leaning her face fully into his chest, banging her forehead against it with each word. Harry hummed, placing a few kisses onto her head to conceal the fact that he too, was bubbling with anger.

“Gonna kill him, lovie. The fuck was that, anyway? Calling me annoying when I’m right here? 5 feet away from him? Not a lot of cogs turning in tha’ one’s head, I’ll tell ya,” Harry snorted, trying to relax his best friend a little bit. “Calm down, babe, practically shakin’ in m’arms.”

She sighed, nodding into him. Comfort slowly seeped into her when she felt the gradual pressure of his arms behind her back. “I know, I’m sorry. Thank you for being here, though, you’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”

Harry isn’t afraid to admit his heart shatters the tiniest bit at this. He even goes far to unwrap his arms from her frame prematurely, plastering on a fake smile before she can see the frown he had on. “‘S what I’m here for.”

A confused look made its way onto YN’s face, wondering what she said wrong to make him let her go. Opening her mouth to ask, she shut it right after she heard her mom call to them.

“Kids, come eat now!” She shouted.

“Coming!” YN called back, giving Harry one last look, a small look of hurt in her eyes, before pivoting on her heel to walk to the dining room.

They sat down, Uncle Rick at the head of the table with YN and Harry on one side, and her parents on the other. Harry frowned when she didn’t scooch her chair over a bit to be closer to him, and he looked at the amount of space that was between them. Taking initiative, he moved his chair over and rested his hand on her thigh, YN grumbling under her breath but grabbing his hand anyway and interlocking their fingers. Although he was right handed, he’d sacrifice his dominant hand to hold hers any day.

The four of them talked easily, Uncle Rick staying out of the conversations mainly, but he hummed or protested every so often to give pieces of mind (even though it was severely unneeded).

“So, YN, I heard that you graduated a couple of months out of medical school? How’d that go? Normally girls your age sleep around to graduate from something so difficult, hm?” Uncle Rick commented disgustingly, food spewing out of his mouth since he was talking with his mouth full.

“Um– sorry, what?” YN choked on the wine she brought, a fiery look already in her eyes. Her parents’ expressions dropped instantly, her dad already trying to sputter out an apology.

“If you’re implying that I slept with the higher ups to graduate then I’m sorry, you’re dead wrong. I worked so hard to get to where I am now, and maybe if you hadn’t been estranged, mind you, we didn’t even know who you were, then maybe you would’ve noticed. Or maybe, you’d still be the same sleazy prick you’ve always been. Either way, it’s no bother to me, I know how you feel after all. The way you try to subtly touch me and my sisters, we all notice it, but we’ve been biting our tongue for so long, because you know what? You’re family. But I’ve honestly had enough of it. Mom, Dad, me and H are leaving, thank you for dinner, but I really, really can’t.” She spewed out without missing a beat, tugging Harry up with her. He turned his head to look up at her, but he could see the upset look in his eyes and stood up without another word. He let go of her hand to go around the table to kiss her moms cheek and to clap her dad on the back.

He walked over to the threshold to leave, before deciding to give a little to this conversation as well. “Y’know, Uncle Rick, I tried m’hardest to be respectful as well, and I always wanted t’make a good impression, especially since I was with my best friends family, but I’ve been here f’longer than y’have to know that they’d love me either way, so I’ll just say this before I go; I didn’t mind when you’d make comments about me, but it’s another thing when y’making weird comments about her. She’s everything t’me, m’soulmate, really, and I feel bad that you’ve probably never had one. It would explain why y’so miserable, wouldn’t it?”

Rick tried to say something, but was quickly cut off. “And I pity that you’ll never get to see how wonderful YN is. I really do pity y’for that. She’s incredibly smart, beautiful inside and out, and y’threw away the chance to have something amazing with her. So for your own benefit, I hope something changes f’you so you can get t’know her. But if not, don’t worry, really, we’re very fine off without you, anyway. Goodnight, Y/M/N and Y/D/N, it’s been wonderful seeing y’both again. ‘M sure we’ll be back soon in better circumstances, I hope.”

And with that, he leaves the kitchen, leaving the three of them in awe.

Grabbing the both of their coats, noticing how YN had forgotten hers, he slammed the door shut and stalked quickly to the car, noticing how she was already in her assigned seat (He’d always joked about how she was the prettiest passenger princess), gnawing on her lips as glimmering tears lay stagnant in her eyes. He walked faster when he clocked this, knowing that her biting her lips was an anxious tic of hers. Popping open the door, he sat and settled into the driver's seat as fast as possible, turning on the ignition to power on the heater as quickly as he could.

She turned her head to him, and he grabbed the back of her head in a tight hold, his other hand wounding around her waist. Sobs starting to fill the car, followed by soft shushing by Harry.

“It’s okay, bub, y’so okay, I’m here, it’s okay.” He reassured, heart clenching at the gutwrenching sobs that left her.

“Love y’so much, you’re s’perfect, and he’s so so wrong. You’re m’best friend in the world, the best person I know... Precious girl, wish y’saw yourself the way I see you.” He placed the softest of kisses to the side of her head, whispering sweet words to her until her sobs calmed and he felt her move her eyes from his shoulder, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“I love you, H, no one I trust more in this world than you,” She whispered, pulling back to lay her temple on his cheek. Pulling back a little more, they now looked at each other, his eyes searching her watery ones. Their breaths hitched when they realized just how close they were to each other, knowing that if they were to move even an inch their lips would touch. They both moved forward a little, before jumping away from each other when Harry’s elbow pushed a little too hard on the center of the wheel, the horn honking.

A shy laugh left her lips as she spun back to face the windshield, a soft blush coating her cheeks. “Home?”

Harry cleared his throat, nodding slowly, a smile growing on his face when he realized that she referred to his house as home. “Yeah, bub, let’s go home.”

— 4

“Harry! YN! Come in, come in!” They smiled at her friend Alex, who was already noticeably drunk, a pink flush on her cheeks. As much as they didn’t like parties, they decided to show up to Alex’s birthday party, the decision hard for the two of them since they knew it would pretty much be like a party at a frat house. Alex pulled on YN’s hand, dragging her inside to the party, Harry being tugged along as well when he grabbed YN’s outstretched one. They get dragged to the kitchen, being heavily encouraged by Alex to make a drink, before running away when she gets distracted by another one of her friends.

“I guess bartender Harry’s making an appearance,” Harry shrugged, “What can I make f’you, bub?”

She tilted her head, thinking it over. “My usual, please.”

“One cherry vodka with sprite coming right up, sweets!” They talked for a little, giggling when Harry had opened a fresh liter of Sprite to make sure it was safe, which started spewing everywhere and in turn, all over his white shirt. “Fucks sake!”

“Messy boy.” She giggled, taking the drink with a gracious smile. She took his hand to lead him to the living room, finding a few of her friends and talking to them, also making conversation with Harry who they knew because of how many times he’s met them. When YN had thought about it, she realized that he really is there every single time she goes out with her friends. It’s like she had her own personal bodyguard.

After a few of her friends had come and gone, she placed her now empty cup on the counter that Harry was resting his back on, trying to stabilize himself as she relaxed herself into his body. “‘M gonna go up and use the bathroom real quick, will you be okay down here?”

“Of course I’ll be okay, but you be safe, bub.” He sent her away with a pat to her bum, a squeal leaving her lips. He watched her walk away with a smile on his face, not even realizing how lovesick the grin must’ve looked. A poof of blonde hair in front of him distracted him from her figure, and when he looked down, he saw a girl with curled and messy blonde waves, thick eyeliner paired with red lipstick that’d grown messy throughout the night. “Hi?”

“You’re so hot.” Blondie commented bluntly. He stepped back to create some space between them, sliding his arm out of her rough grip. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason why her hands felt like sandpaper on his tanned skin, but it felt like he’d just been burned with a flat iron.

“Oh, um… thank you? That’s very sweet, but I’ve got a girl-” He started.

“She doesn’t need to know…” She purred, and disgust filled Harry’s face.

“I’m flattered, but I really do have a girlfriend, and she’s here with me tonight, I’m not comfortable with this, ‘M sorry.” He tried again, but every time he would take a step backward, Blondie would take a step forward. Can she not take the hint?!

“Is the girlfriend in the room with us?” She started to get annoyed. A small weight lifted from his chest because he thought maybe if she got tired of him, she would just leave. He tried to wait for this plan to work, but he realized he didn’t even need to when he saw his precious girl descend down the stairs. Her eyes caught his, and he tried to iterate in his eyes that he needed help, and fast. She noticed and tried to go down the stairs a bit faster, not even caring if she stepped on someone. She walked fast to close the distance between them, burrowing herself in the space Harry provided when he lifted his arm as she was on her way over.

“Hi baby,” YN started, pecking a kiss to his cheek sweetly, before turning her gaze to the girl in front of Harry. “Oh! I’m so sorry, that was so rude of me! Hi, I’m Harry’s girlfriend, YN. And you are…?”

Blondie stared at YN’s outstretched hand in confusion, rolling her eyes and flipping her messy blonde hair over her shoulder, whacking YN in the face with the tips as she walked away. YN pulled a face of disgust, Harry immediately brushing her face off softly with his hand.

“Fuckin’ bitch, thinks she can take y’from me,” YN muttered under her breath, quiet enough to the point that even Harry himself couldn’t hear, which said a lot since they were practically telepathically connected.

“Hm?” Harry questioned, but she didn’t say a word.

“Nothing, just crazy to think that these girls think they can get you without getting through me first, that’s all.” She smiled up at Harry innocently.

He snorted. “I send my luck out to anyone who even ends up trying. Thank you for saving me, bub. I owe you, big time.”

“Just take me home now. Can we watch a movie?”

“Anything f’you, Sweetheart.”

— 5

They didn’t really like these galas.

To be honest, it wasn’t really their scene and they’d much rather be at Harry’s house, cuddled on the couch with her feet on his thighs, his fingers digging into the heels and soles of his feet mindlessly.

They were in matching outfits, a silky emerald dress hugging her body whilst also accentuating her curves. Harry was clad in a velvety dark green suit, a black button up buttoned to just the middle of his torso matching her black YSL purse that she got as a graduation gift from him (among many other things against her wishes). They walked into the event arm in arm which wasn’t unusual for the pair. She tended to be his date to these once in a while events he’d agree to going to. The two had already walked in whispering and giggling about how they caught Glenne and Jeff sucking face in a darkened hallway near the entrance.

Harry found a couple of his friends he’d made while in the process of making the album, YN standing close to his side with a polite smile on her face. After a couple of minutes, she’d become thirsty and, unnoticeably to anyone else, tapped her fingers on his forearm that her hand was hanging on. He looked to her, a soft but questioning smile on his face, and she scrunched her nose, clearing her throat to speak. “‘M gonna get a drink, bub. Getting a little thirsty, do you want anything?”

He shook his head, turning fully to face her. She unhook her hand from the crook of his arm, nodding toward the bar. “D’you want me t’come with you?”

She shook her head no, already stepping back to move towards the bar. “I’ll be okay, jus’ keep an eye on me in case I need saving, yeah?”

“Of course, only have eyes f’you anyway.” He unashamedly flirted, chuckling at the bashful look on her face, turning her gaze to anything but him to will away the blush begging to make itself known on her cheeks.

“Cheeky boy, I’ll be back.” She smiled, shaking her head. He pulled her in a little, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before sending her away, following her figure with his eyes to ensure she was safe on the less than eight feet walk to the bar. Once assured she was there safely, he turned his gaze to his gaggle of friends, making small talk with them, nothing more than work and the weather. He’d shared a couple of laughs before his brain made itself aware that his other half wasn’t back to his side as quickly as it would normally take her, and he turned his head to look for his girl– not his girl, but– no, she was his girl. They’d both known it anyway.

His heart dropped to about his toes when he saw her turn her head too, a quick panicked glimmer in her eyes. He was unsure if he was reading her correctly, but when he kept his gaze trained on her for a little longer and watched as she gave him the same panicked look, he knew she was in trouble. She looked back forward, trying to be as polite as possible, and he excused himself from the group in the blink of an eye. Striding over as fast as his legs would allow, he slowed his pace down a little to not look suspicious to any onlookers. He found her quickly, her head turning once more, a now relieved and slightly amused look in her eyes. Clocking the creepy looking guy standing in front of her, he said fuck all to looking suspicious and picked up his pace once more.

He closed the distance between them quickly, pressing his front against her back gently, trying his best to not be overbearing. The heat radiating from his body automatically calmed her, feeling the way he let his arm snake around his waist to let his hand sit on the small space between her hip and her waist, a large tattooed hand resting on her tummy. She placed the drink onto the bar, laying her cold hand onto his warm one. He leaned towards her head, kissing her hair and humming when she leaned her head a bit into his lips.

“Hi m’love, who’s this?” He asked while tilting his head down to look at her, finding her eyes to send her a message to go along with him. She looked up too, reading his eyes instantly and knowing what they were going to do. Just like they did at the house party, they were going to fake date for a little bit. This was him returning the favor.

“Hi baby, this is Jack, Jack, this is my boyfriend– um… Peter.” She giggled, not being able to think of a better name. “He said that he’s Jeff Azoff’s personal assistant,” Looking toward the guy who shriveled into himself with fear, a smirk present her lips. Obviously they both knew that Jeff didn’t have a male personal assistant– Glenne had given the job to her friend’s daughter, and they were just as close with her as they were Glenne herself. “He even said that he’s gotten to know Harry Styles quite well himself, also offered to take me to meet him after this event, isn’t he so sweet?”

Harry had to lift a hand to rub his lips to prevent himself from laughing. “Oh yeah, darling, that would be wonderful. Think I can tag along with you? I’m a huge fan, and would love to meet the guy. Tonight might not be the best, though, I heard he’s at a fancy event or something.”

“Oh, of course, baby, how could I forget? Could I have your phone? I could get Jack’s number so we can arrange something,” Turning to fully face Jack, she giggled a little at the way his complexion now was pale like he saw a ghost. The three of them knew he’d been caught in a lie. She felt the weight of his phone on her hand and pulled it up to her face, her face ID unlocking it instantly. “What was your number?”

Jack stumbled over his words. “I- um… Uh- I just– Forget it.” Scrambling away as fast as he could, the two laughed together as she turned in his hold. She moved her arm down to drop his phone back into his pocket. She wounded her arms back up to place her arms on his biceps, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Boyfriend, huh?” He grinned, resting his chin on the top of her head when she dropped it onto his chest, a groan leaving her lips.

“You started it!” She whined, lifting her head back up to meet his green eyes.

“I know, I know. Can’t believe it took you a Rory imposter to call me y’boyfriend, though. Been waiting forever for that, really. Sounds pretty coming from y’lips, if I’m honest.” A sigh tumbled from his lips, trying to subtly let her know what he was feeling.

“Me too. In our very own romance book, eh? Fake dating trope and all.” She giggled, lifting her arms to wound around his neck, obviously picking up on what he was putting down.

They were finally having their moment.

“Gonna let me make it real, Sweetheart?” He whispered, ducking his head down to be level with hers.

“God, hurry up with it will you? Been waiting for this since we were teenag- oh!” She was cut off by his lips on hers.

It was natural. Of course it was.

The way their lips met made her truly believe in the romance books she was just joking about not even a second ago. She could taste the sweetness from the cookies they snacked on in the car on the seams of his lips, softness from the chapstick he borrowed from her still moisturizing his lips. He could feel every dip and crevice in hers if he focused enough– as if he wasn’t completely drowning in all of her. Her perfume, her hands on his neck, the taste of her lips.

Pulling away with a quiet smack, he grinned as widely as humanly possible, bunny teeth making its full appearance, as well as his dimples. He placed another sweet kiss to her nose, making her scrunch up her face.

“Fuckin’ finally. So in love with you, sweet girl, m’best friend.”

“Mm, love you, H.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines

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prythianpages · 3 months

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Dandelions | Azriel x Witch Reader

summary: it's your baby girl's first day of school and Azriel isn't ready to let her go.

warnings: fluff/angst; some suggestiveness at the end (bonus scene)

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: but also my Azriel x witch reader series. I really adore this song and this was the only series I could apply it to. This can pretty much be read as a stand alone imagine. All you have to know is that reader is a witch and is an established relationship with Az.

In the quiet hush of morning, Azriel and Melaina find themselves at the breakfast table with sleep in their eyes. The floor is cloaked in their shadows, joining one another at their feet in a vast sea of darkness.

Yet, the dance of their shadows harbor distinct meanings.

Though he tries to hide it, your keen eyes pick up on the subtle poignant unease in Azriel's demeanor. An undercurrent of melancholy taints the air, prompting you to send a reassuring tug through your bond. Azriel returns the gesture, his hand finding yours across the table. Meanwhile, Melaina quietly finishes her breakfast. Her shadows, a whirlwind of nerves and excitement, betray her impassive appearance. Today is her first day of school, the precipice of a new chapter in her life, and Azriel can't help but grapple with the realization that his little girl is growing up far too quickly.

“All done, my pretty?” You ask softly, gaze alight with admiration as her small wings flutter behind her.

She’s the mirror image of her father with her captivating hazel eyes–a perfect blend of greens and browns that remind you of the nature you’re so fond of. Two braids cascade down her shoulders and delicate bangs accentuate her sun-kissed complexion. When she was born, you had joked that you had given birth to Azriel’s carbon copy and little did you know that even her personality would match his.

Melaina nods and you rise, taking her plate to the kitchen sink. The corner of your lips lift up into a smile when you hear Azriel ask, “Are you sure you want to go to school? You can always start next year.”

“Mel is more than ready for school,” you lightly chide Azriel, who chooses to ignore your words of consolation.

His gaze is fixed on Melaina, a plethora of scenarios plaguing his mind. He wishes he could see what’s really on her mind–to be able to foresee any worries she may have and ease her through them. The same way he’s eased her through every milestone of her life thus far. He was there when she took her first steps, when she first got hurt from tripping over a rug that he immediately disposed of after, when she said her first word–which much to your dismay was your cat’s name, Binx.

But now, she was ready for school. Her first time being away from home without you or him or his brothers by her side. Her first time being on her own. What if the kids in her class don’t take well to her? To her shadows? He remembers the apprehensive looks he’d receive in Windhaven when growing up and the thought of anyone doing the same to her pains him. What if they are mean to her? What if they hurt her?

The obsidian tendrils at Azriel's side stir with an eerie melody, commanding Melaina's shadows to rise. They snap to attention like disciplined soldiers heeding orders. An unspoken promise unfolds—her shadows would help guide her and protect her from any lingering stare or slightest suspicion of malintent. They return to her side as she rises to her feet, tickling her sides and causing her to giggle.

Azriel smiles and shares her laughter, capturing every minute of it, the feeling in it.

There’s that odd melancholy feeling again as he stands in front of the school with Melaina on one side and you on the other. He can’t help the frown that settles over his face when she wiggles her tiny hand out of his grasp to run to her cousins. You’re following after her, tugging Azriel along with you to join his brothers and their mates at the front of the school.

“Good morning, Azriel jr,” Cassian greets her with a smile, playfully tugging at one of her braids. “Are you ready for your first day?”

Melaina lets out a huff. “Of course I am, Uncle Cas.”

Cassian then looks toward Azriel, who continues to brood, and chuckles. “It doesn’t look like your daddy is.”

Azriel glares at Cassian. You leave his side to hug Feyre and the frown leaves his face at the delighted squeal that comes from you, his shadows singing in response. He turns his head to see you and Feyre exchange smiles while you gush in excitement over her growing belly. Though Feyre looks at Azriel with a knowing smile, her words are directed to you.

“Rhys was the same way with Nyx,” she muses and out of the corner of his eye, Azriel catches his brother rolling his eyes. But he doesn’t deny it.

“So was Nesta,” Cassian adds, propping an elbow on Nesta’s shoulders. She shoves him off with a shrug before chiding after their twin boys, Cardan and Calian. The aftermath of the aphrodisiac you made–or rather, remade–for her after Azriel accidentally drank the first batch.

“I’m surprised you’re faring well with this,” Feyre says with a raised brow at you.

“Well, someone has to be the strong one,” you tease, side glancing at Azriel and squeezing his hand.

Azriel lets out a small huff, similar to the one Melaina let out earlier. He knew you were also stressed and a little sad but you were surprisingly able to hide it better than him. But unbeknownst to him, just in case the obsidian necklace she wore was not enough, you had casted a protection spell over Melaina before she went to bed…and packed her bags with a variety of charged crystals.

The gathering of students at the school's entrance slowly disperses, and Azriel tenses beside you, acknowledging the imminent moment of having to say goodbye. Nyx, ever courteous, takes it upon himself to accompany Melaina to class. Azriel suspects Feyre's influence in Nyx's gesture, as if she intuited the added difficulty for him and you. He watches as Melaina walks back to you and you lean down, gently smoothing her bangs before placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Today will be a wonderful day for you,” you affirm for her with a radiant smile, making Azriel's heart melt at the sight of the two girls he loves the most. He wishes that he could freeze the picture and save it from the funny tricks of time.

Your hand delicately reaches for the obsidian crystal suspended from her neck, lifting it tenderly to your lips. There’s a flash of green light that engulfs the crystal and as you release the necklace, Azriel notices the new sparkle to it. “Love you, my pretty.”

Though Melaina doesn’t verbalize it back, her eyes radiate a golden glow and the soft caress of her shadows against your face feels like a tender whisper that articulates, "I love you too.” You pull her in close, hugging her smaller frame and lean down to whisper. But Azriel’s attentive senses still catch it.

“Now hug and give your daddy a kiss so he doesn’t cry.”

Azriel resists the urge to roll his eyes. Feeling a tug on his sweater, he leans down to meet his daughter at eye level. Opening his arms expectantly, a surge of warmth envelops him as she eagerly rushes into his embrace. A tender kiss graces his cheek, accompanied by the familiar caress of her shadows against his other cheek similar to the way they had done with you. He pulls away to look at her, holding her gently by the shoulders. He knows her shadows will do well to protect her and if those aren’t enough, her older cousins are just a couple of classrooms down the hall. But he needs to hear her say it.

“What will you do if someone is mean to you?”

Melaina’s eyes light up and she steps out from his hold. True to the goddess you named her after, she's a tiny vision of nightmares and madness, as she assumes a defensive position, her shadows dancing around her.

“Kick them in the face!” She exclaims as she raises her leg up with a glare directed toward her nonexistent enemy. “I'll make my enemies bleed.”

Cardan and Calian follow after her while Nyx wisely keeps a safe distance, amused by the spectacle of his younger cousins engaging in an imaginary brawl. Cassian watches them fondly, striking punches of his own into the air but you’re shaking your head with furrowed brows. Azriel catches the pointed look you send his way and a subtle blush overtakes his cheeks as you’ve discovered his secret. He continues to read Melaina, those books you told him not to.

“No, Mel, that’s not–”

“That’s my girl,” Azriel grins as he rises to his feet, feeling slightly better. He rustles her bangs fondly.

The sound of the school bell echoes through the park as a final warning that class should be beginning shortly. Azriel reluctantly shrugs Melaina’s backpack off his shoulder, the small bag looking ridiculous on someone of his stature. He adjusts it on her with careful consideration for her delicate wings and feels an ache in his chest as the backpack nearly engulfs her smaller frame.

As the faint rustling, reminiscent of rocks shifting, comes from the bag, it is Azriel’s turn to send you a subtle yet pointed look in your direction. A suppressed smile tugs at his lips when you quickly avert your gaze and he realizes he wasn’t the only one keeping a secret.

“Off you go, my little shadow. See you later.”

Once the backpack is secured to her, she takes Nyx’s waiting hand and runs off to the entrance with him. Azriel almost frowns but then, at the top of the stairs, she turns around, waving goodbye with a small absent-minded smile.

He watches her go into the school with a surge of that well-known sadness. Tears prick his eyes and though he knows he’s being dramatic, he can’t help the feeling that he’s losing her forever. His sweet little girl who keeps on growing. She’s slipping through his fingers all the time.

Bonus scene

Before his family could indulge in making fun of him, Azriel grasps your hand, drawing you close as he summons his shadows. The inky tendrils swirl around you both, transporting you back to the familiar sanctuary of your home.

"If this is your reaction on her first day of school, I can only imagine what you’ll be like when she has her first crush," you say, a teasing sparkle in your eyes.

Azriel's grip on you tightens. He doesn’t want to grapple further into the inevitability of his daughter's growing independence because to him, Melaina will always be his baby girl. A subtle strain echoes in his voice as he pleads, "Don't."

Easing out of his embrace, you giggle at his dramatics, strolling toward the kitchen with a lightness in your step, intent on brewing some tea. "It's just a couple of hours, Az," you reassure him.

"A couple of hours?" Azriel echoes, a pensive note in his voice as he joins you in the kitchen.

Having taken the entire week off, he had intended to be present for every moment—dropping Melaina off and picking her up during her first week at school. He didn’t plan for much other than that and he was used to spending his days off with his little family but now Melaina was off at school, leaving the two of you alone.

The kettle placed on the stove begins to whistle, harmonizing with the new thought that brews in his mind. You’re raising your steaming cup of tea to your lips, peering over at Azriel as he walks up to you. “What? You want some?” You ask, raising your cup to him.

Azriel shakes his head with a smile. Carefully taking the cup from you, he places it onto the counter behind you. He gently but firmly holds your chin, coaxing you to meet his gaze. The faint blush on his cheeks returns, a soft hue that complements the golden brilliance in his eyes as he looks down at you with adoration because you’ve given him everything he’s ever dreamed of and more.

Still, there's an insatiable desire within him for even more moments, more shared dreams, and more of you.

“Let’s have another?”

“A baby?”

Azriel nods, attentively studying your features for any nuanced emotion. He feels relief when you smile and you voice your answer without having to say anything, flooding him with love through the bond you share. The two of you had discussed having children years ago, almost two years before having Melaina. After she was born, you mirrored each other’s desires for having more but had agreed on waiting but not too long as you wanted your children to grow up together.

“We do have a couple of hours to ourselves,” you remind him again, embracing him with arms entwined around his neck, fingers brushing through the back of his hair.

He hooks his arms under your knees, lifting you up with ease and you’re wrapping your legs around his waist. He grins when your legs tighten around him and kisses you.

“Let’s not waste another second.”

a/n: hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it <3 Sorry, I skipped ahead. I do want to eventually write an imagine for when Az & reader first find out they're having a baby. That might be the next imagine for this series.

tagging: @fxckmiup

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagine #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #az!dandelions

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megalony · 26 days

Text

Model Patients

This is an Evan x Reader x Eddie imagine, based on a lovely anon request, kind of like my Doctor Diaz fic. I hope you will all like it I loved writing this. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: When (Y/n), Eddie and all their kids bar one get food poisoning, Evan has to look after them all. And he loves it.

Enjoy.

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

Eddie leaned forward and slumped his elbows down on the table, but his eyes flitted to the right to look at the girls sat next to him.

The sight of (Y/n) swaying Nina from side to side in her arms made Eddie's lips curve up into a grin. It was something that Eddie and Evan would never get tired of seeing, which was a good thing considering the three of them had five kids in total now.

And Nina was by far their easiest baby, she didn't fuss, she barely cried and she settled for her naps almost straight away. And she didn't care which parent or person was holding her. All the team had been able to hold and cuddle Nina for ages and she didn't fuss or cry or scream out.

When they had Lois, she was attached to (Y/n), if Eddie or Evan held her for too long she would cry out for her mum. And Eddie knew that had hurt Evan. She was his first baby and he couldn't cradle her all night long like he wanted.

Pete had been a fussy baby, but he had colic so he was always unsettled and crying because he was in pain. They wouldn't have been able to bring him out to a restaurant like this when he was one month old like they could Nina.

Grace had been a daddy's girl through and through and she still was. If Eddie passed her to Evan, she didn't fuss. But if he passed her to (Y/n) she would wake up immediately and if Bobby held her, she knew instantly that it wasn't one of her dads and she would scream.

"Daddy…"

Shifting his eyes from (Y/n) to the highchair resting between them, Eddie smiled softly at Grace. She dropped the children's menu they had put in front of her and held her arms out expectingly.

She made grabby fists in his direction and began to whimper, shedding superficial tears until Eddie sighed and gave in. He unclipped the buckle around her waist and lifted her out the highchair. He knew she wouldn't sit in it for long. They hadn't even ordered yet and she was making a fuss so she could be cuddled instead.

"Come here then," He murmured as he lifted her up and sat her down on his lap, letting her burrow into his chest. Her fingers started to trace over the tattoo on his right arm and she smiled when Eddie leaned his chin on the top of her head.

"What do you fancy, baby?" (Y/n) shifted Nina a little higher in the crook of her arm and looked down at Pete who was sat next to her, tucked up into her side.

Evan was next to Pete, Lois was sat on his lap and Chris was wedged happily between both dads.

Pete shrugged his shoulders and took anothher look over the menu, but he didn't know what to have. He didn't always like what was on the children's menu, he wanted to be like Chris and Lois who always chose of the adult menu. Even though Lois was only one year older than Pete; she was six and he was five.

"Wanna share some pasta?" (Y/n) turned and pushed her chair back so she could ease the newborn down into the pram behind her. Nina was settled now and she'd had a bottle just before they came out, she should sleep through now until they got her back home. And if not, (Y/n) knew Evan would be up and over to take her before her or Eddie could move an inch.

When Pete nodded and smiled, (Y/n) put the menu back in the middle of the table and looked round at the rest of her family.

"Pasta." Chris agreed and smiled when Eddie nodded and muttered "We'll have that too," Referring to him and Grace. She was a fussy eater but she would pick at whatever Eddie ate and if they shared it, she would be more inclined to eat.

"We having pasta too, papa?"

"You can have that if you want baby, I'll have cottage pie." Evan let Lois shuffle back into him and lean her head back on his shoulder.

Pasta was the main dish Bobby had been cooking on almost every shift this week and Evan was done with it. He'd had spag bol, mac and cheese, carbonara. He was finished with pasta, the sight was making him feel queasy and he needed something else.

"That makes you the odd one out." Eddie commented with a grin while Evan rolled his eyes and pretended to laugh.

He was more than happy being the odd one out if the rest of them wanted to get red sauce stained all down their clothes and make a mess while they were out in public.

Evan would rather play it safe.

***

(Y/n) pressed her palm into the wall and used it as leverage to propell herself from the bedroom. Her feet crumpled beneath her and her legs felt like they had turned to jelly as she stumbled down the hall towards the bathroom.

Her forehead pressed against the wood and she gave it a shove but her throat tightened when the door didn't open. She bashed her knuckles on the door and slumped her body against it, wondering which of her family was held up inside.

"Occupied." Eddie's grumbled response came through the door and (Y/n) couldn't help but cry in response.

"I- I- Eddie please! Emergency!" (Y/n)'s gurgled response and the way she started to gag and croak told Eddie she was going to be sick. Whether or not he opened the door, (Y/n) would be sick and she would rather throw up in the sink or in the very least, on the bathroom floor rather than out here on the carpet.

As soon as the lock clicked, (Y/n) stumbled in but she froze when she turned towards the toilet.

Chris was in here too. The twelve-year-old was knelt down on the floor, hunched over with his hands on the toilet and his head in the bowl.

And then there was Eddie. He was sat with his back against the wall on the left side of the door, his feet wedged up against the bottom of the toilet. His arms were bound around his legs that were coiled up to his stomach and his forehead had been resting on his knees until (Y/n) rushed in.

He looked terrible. His skin had lost all colour, he was reduced to an ungodly shade of grey (Y/n) only ever saw on him when he was ill or when he had been in hospital after he got shot. His eyes were rimmed with dark purple and black streaks. His lips were no longer a loving shade of ruby red but were now pale and almost hazy blue. And his body was shaking back and forth against the wall.

(Y/n) couldn't spend long looking at one of her boys. She spared Chris and Eddie a glance before she turned to the right and grabbed the sink just in time to throw up. Her chest imbedded into the edge of the sink and her fingers scratched into the cold porcelean.

She coughed, heaved and gasped as she tried to breathe but couldn't fathom how when she couldn't stop throwing up.

"Mum sick too?" Chris lifted his head from the toilet and looked tiredly over his shoulder. He too had no colour to his skin, his complexion was pale, his eyes were half lidded and he was starting to sweat.

A quiet whine left Chris's lips when Eddie nudged him to the side, grunting as he parted his knees to the side and leant over to throw up into the toilet.

Eddie spat into the toilet and flopped back, letting his head bang against the wall with a loud thud. He gasped for breath, but when he looked across at (Y/n) and noticed her barely able to keep herself stood up, he flinched.

"Oh God… Evan! Babe!" Eddie hollered as loudly as he could but his voice was croaky and his throat felt inflamed.

He let his left arm slump back over his knees that were pinned into his throbbing stomach. But he moved his right hand, clenching it into a fist so he could ram his fist on the wall. He hit the wall a few times, loud enough to make an echo course throughout the house. They needed some help.

"What's… going on?"

The door opened again but Evan didn't dare step inside. He darted his eyes between the boys and (Y/n) who finally pulled away from the sink. But Evan shivered when he watched her knees quake and she used the sink as leverage to lower herself down to the floor. Her legs curled beneath her and she let her head press against the sink that felt refreshing and cold against her clammy skin.

"You okay?" The way Eddie tilted his head to one side and looked up at Evan made him shiver.

"Me? I'm good, but you two look like death on legs."

"I th- I think we've got food poisoning, Pete's sick too. Go c-check the girls." Eddie grimaced and closed his eyes when the bathroom light started to become far too bright for his eyes.

If Evan was alright, Eddie would guess they all got some sort of food poisoning from the pasta they ate last night. They all had the same thing and if Evan was fine, then that seemed to cement things.

When Chris started crying out for Eddie, he practically crawled into the boy's room. He found Chris struggling to get out of bed, feeling horrid and his stomach aching. And poor Pete was curled up in bed, shivering and whimpering saying his stomach hurt.

"Oh fuck, okay hang tight." Evan spun on his heels and darted out of the bathroom. He would be back to carry them all back to bed in a minute, once he'd checked on the rest of the kids.

He poked his head around the boy's door since it was open and he wanted to see if Pete had been sick or if he was still asleep. He had about four teddies cuddled to his chest, he was shaking and the little whimpers he let out told Evan that he was indeed awake. But he was somewhat settled for now and Evan would come back to give him some medicine soon.

Bypassing their room, Evan headed into the girl's room and flicked on the light. He didn't like what he was faced with.

"Papa, I don't feel well." Lois whimpered, nuzzling her face into the pillow but she couldn't get back to sleep now. Her tummy hurt, it felt like her insides were twisting in knots and she wasn't sure if she needed to go to the toilet or throw up.

Evan couldn't help the way his lips pulled into a grimace when he looked between Lois and the floor.

Sometime during the night, she had thrown up on the floor and clearly, she didn't remember or realise she'd done it.

"I know baby girl, no one's well today. Um, why don't you go hop in our bed while I sort out? Mum and daddy will be back in bed in a minute."

His eyes followed her as she groggily sat up and shuffled out of bed, but the moment Lois looked down and realised she had thrown up during the night, her face fell. Her lips parted and tears welled in her eyes before she hurriedly looked up at Evan. "I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to."

"It's alright baby, hey it's okay. Go get Pete and tell him to get in our bed, I want you all where I can look after you." When she shuffled past him, Evan leaned over and kissed the top of her head. He didn't want her apologising when she couldn't help it.

He figured all his family were going to be held up in bed for the next few days and he was going to have to call Bobby and ask for a few days off. If all the kids- minus Nina who was only a month old- were ill and both Eddie and (Y/n) were out of action, that left Evan to care for them. Something he secretly loved doing.

His attention turned to the cot on the other side of the room and he headed over to see if Grace was okay or not. She had eaten about half of Eddie's dinner last night so Evan would guess she was going to be sick too.

"Papa," Grace tried to stand up in her cot and she held her arms out for him. She looked very flushed and her eyes were red and puffy as she sobbed. He knew she had been fine when he put her to bed last night and when (Y/n) checked on her this morning while she was up with Nina.

"Come here, baby-cake."

Reaching down, Evan gently scooped her up but he grimaced and his nose crinkled when she threw up on him. Right on his chest. Right in the centre of his shirt. He thanked God he had gone to bed in pyjamas last night and not just his boxers or he might have thrown up too.

A horrid scream gurgled past Grace's lips when Evan set her back down in the cot. "Baby- shh just one second, please." He carefully reeled his shirt over his head and dumped it on the floor, he would get Grace in bed and then clean up. "I'm here, okay I'm here. Let's go get everyone else, you're all having a day in bed."

"With you?"

"I'm playing doctor today, baby-cake."

Evan headed out the room but he juggled Grace higher on his chest when she wrapped her arms around his neck. She wasn't going to let him put her down. He aimed for the bathroom and his lips pressed into a thin line when he looked between them all.

"Baby, sit with daddy look. Careful, she's just thrown up on me." He leaned down and eased Grace into Eddie's arms.

A groan tumbled past Eddie's lips when Grace sat on his stomach and flopped forward onto his chest. Her head tucked beneath his chin and she scrunched his shirt up in her hands, sniffling into his neck. He moved his hand to cradle her bum and rubbed his other palm up and down her back.

"Shh, s'okay. Dad's gonna look after us all today, hm?" He pressed his lips to the top of Grace's head and when he looked up at Evan, he saw him grin in their direction.

(Y/n) coiled both arms around her waist and pressed down until she was about to explode. Her stomach was physically twisting. Her throat burned like she had swallowed bleach and she wanted nothing more than to go to sleep but her body was aching too much for that to happen. She was in agony.

She felt tears burning in her eyes when Evan crouched down beside her and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek. At least with them all having food poisoning, it couldn't be passed onto Evan or Nina. So he could kiss and cuddle them all he liked and not make himself sick. It was a good job he had chosen something different to eat last night.

His arms wound around her and he effortlessly scooped her up. He could see from how she was practically laid on the floor that she wasn't going to be able to walk back to bed. And he didn't want to waste time trying to support her to walk when he could just carry her instead.

"Eight of us in this house, and only me and the baby are alright."

***

"There we go. You're a good girl, hm?" A tender smile flooded Evan's face as he looked down at the newborn in his arms.

He let his weight fall back until his hips bumped into the kitchen counter and he crossed one leg over the other. He had Nina cuddled up in his left arm, her eyes half-lidded as she was starting to fall back into another nap which didn't surprise Evan. While he had been bustling about the house for the last hour, she had been awake and gurgling into his chest.

He put the washing on, cleaned up and tidied all the bedrooms and made something to eat. He had been out for a drive a little while ago and Nina had slept through the whole ride.

Carefully, he removed the bottle from her lips and set it down on the side so he could shift Nina up onto his chest. He felt her hand begin to tap against his chest while her chin perched on his shoulder and her soft breaths fanned against his neck.

Even though he had been looking after everyone in the house, it had been a little strange but wonderful for Evan to get sone one to one time with Nina. (Y/n) and Eddie could barely stay awake other than to throw up or groan and shuffle around in bed. They were occupied trying to settle the rest of the kids and keep them calm.

So Nina had been Evan's priority because he was fine to change her and feed her and coo and entertain her.

"We're alright aren't we, baby girl? We didn't eat the pasta." He murmured softly while he smoothed his hand up and down her back and turned around to face the kitchen counter. "Alright, we need some medicine for everyone, and you can go lay with mummy."

His left arm moved up and down to sway Nina against his chest and shoulder and he grabbed the medicine bottles from the cupboard. He had been dosing them all up every four hours but Pete and Grace were horrid when it came to taking their medicine. And so was (Y/n) when she threw it up earlier and Eddie felt drowsy after taking his painkillers.

Once all the medicine was laid out on the counter, Evan moved his right hand to cradle the back of Nina's head and he walked out of the kitchen, past the dining room and into he lounge.

Yesterday, everyone had been held up in bed and they mostly slept and threw up. But when Pete and Lois projectile vomited all over the bed this morning, Evan evicted them. They were lucky that they had two large sofas in the living room and one of them was a sofa bed. So Evan had pulled the bed out and everyone was in the lounge. Curtains closed, Disney movies stacked and layered the floor and blankets and pillows were strewn about everywhere.

His heart softened when he looked at his unwell, bed-ridden family.

Eddie was wedged in the left corner, half propped up by at least three pillows. He had been burning up all night so he was laid in his boxers and nothing else which was a sight Evan was happily drinking in whenever he could. He had Grace curled up on his chest, her head tucked right against his neck under his chin and his arms were wound around her.

Pete and Lois were squashed in the middle, sniffing and squirming every now and then. Neither of them had slept well during the night. Chris was laid across the foot of the bed, propped up on two pillows as he laid on his stomach to try and relieve the pain he felt.

And (Y/n) was huddled right in the other corner of the bed, her head buried in a pillow. Her arms were wound around her waist, her knees were slightly coiled up and she had a blanket tucked around her since she was cold and the others were burning. She was wearing a pair of Evan's jogging bottoms and one of his grey lounge shirts.

"She's having a nap, do you want her for a bit?"

A small, strained smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips and she nodded, if a bit gruffly and held her arms out. She hadn't spent a lot of time with Nina this last day.

She let Evan lean over her and when he was close enough, she tilted her head back and pressed her lips against his neck. She breathed in his scent and nudged her nose into his skin which caused a laugh to vibrate through his chest and down to her. He eased Nina onto her chest and kissed her head before he leaned up and kissed (Y/n)'s lips.

(Y/n) tilted her head down and pressed her chapped lips to the top of Nina's head who was quietly yawning and smacking her lips together.

She stayed cuddled up with Nina but she lifted her gaze to watch Evan drift out of the room and come back a few moments later.

Medicine time.

"Alright, let's get you all sorted. Chris?"

The eldest gingerly lifted his head and pushed up onto his knees on the bed so he wasn't lying down. His hands moved to his knees and his nose scrunched up when Evan held out the small syringe of calpol medicine. He grimaced and shook his head after he'd taken both doses and quickly flopped down onto his stomach. He knew the rules, they had to let their medicine settle for at least five minutes before they had a drink to wash it down.

"Lois, baby?" Evan sat down on the end of the bed near Eddie's feet and motioned for Lois to move over to him but she shook her head. She shifted to the side and tried to burrow herself under Eddie's arm.

"Medicine or you go in your own bed tonight." Eddie warned and shifted his arms tighter around Grace so Lois couldn't hide behind him. She couldn't have the privillege of staying here with them now or tonight if she didn't take her meds. She would only feel worse if she refused.

They were all still being sick. They managed lunch and dinner yesterday but started throwing up during the night again. And both Eddie and (Y/n) weren't doing well on intaking any fluids.

With a grumble and a whine that made her nose scrunch up and look like (Y/n), Lois crawled down the middle of the bed until she was slumped next to Evan's knee.

The moment she took the medicine, Lois started to cough and her throat tightened as she began to gag. Evan looped his hands beneath her arms and lifted her up until she was stood between his legs. He let her slump her head on his shoulder and he smoothed his hand up and down her back to try and coax her to calm down. If she panicked and gagged she would definitely be sick.

"Good girl." He kept her leant on his chest while he filled another syringe and waved his hand for Pete to come over to him.

Pete could barely keep his eyes open. He leaned forward with his legs crossed beneath him and his arms limp on his lap. He managed to keep his head up, coughed as he took his medicine, then flopped back down with a groan.

"Okay, and one for baby-cake." Evan held out the syringe to Eddie since the two of them were cuddled together.

"Have this baby, then you can have some juice." Eddie tilted his head to the side and brushed his finger over Grace's cheek to coax her into opening her eyes. He didn't mind her staying curled up on his chest as long as she took her medicine.

It worked to his advantage that she didn't seem to know what was going on as she was half asleep. when Eddie pressed the medicine to her lips, she accepted it before she started to whimper and tuck herself more into his neck.

"Now you two."

"No, Evan I can't, I- I'll throw it up."

"Mi amor, if the kids had to then so do you." Eddie flopped his head back against the pillow and turned to look over at (Y/n). He knew she was worried about being sick but she had to try.

(Y/n) grimaced and made sure Nina was settled on her chest before she took the spoon Evan held out to her. With her eyes closed, (Y/n) chugged the medicine as quickly as she could and shivered when she felt her stomach twist, she really felt sick now.

Her hand pressed to her mouth and she tilted her head back, shoulders quaking as she swallowed at least three times so she didn't throw it up.

Reaching out, Eddie took the spoon and downed the medicine, shaking his head and cracking his jaw as he groaned at the taste. But he would take anything if it stopped him throwing up and having the taste of acid and bile at the back of his throat.

"See, you've all been model patients." Evan perched his chin on Lois's shoulder and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek to make her smile. "I got some fluid IVs from the station earlier, like you said. Want me to hook you both up to one? I got those things too… diuretics, since none of you are keeping any fluids down."

Evan had gone to the station to have a word with Bobby, just to make sure Eddie had the rest of the week off and Evan had the next four days. While he was there, he let the team steal Nina for a cuddle and he went in the back and found some saline bags and IV lines and needles. He knew neither of his partners were managing to keep much fluids down and they had thrown up all their meals yesterday.

He needed some in case the kids got any worse too. And he found diuretics to give to all of them except Grace as she was only a toddler. It would give all of them some vitamins and essentials and keep them boosted with all the throwing up they had done between them.

"Hook us up, I feel like shit."

Evan reached his hand down and bashed Eddie's thigh, muttering a quiet 'language' and frowning playfully at him.

"Alright, whoever wants a bath shuffle off the bed and wait in the hall please. That way we have no wires getting pulled out." A bath might make the kids feel better and more inclined to sleep. And it would let Eddie and (Y/n) have a while to themselves to be on a drip without anyone wriggling around or lying on the wires and pulling them out.

Lois tiredly shuffled out of Evan's arms and flopped down to her feet but she could barely hold herself up. She shuffled into the hall while Pete gruffly followed along, dragging his feet behind him.

"Go get a bath, girlie." Eddie gently pulled Grace off his chest and leaned over to set her down on her feet. She swayed as she waddled over and took Lois's hand, clinging to her sister until Evan came back. She wanted one of her parents, she wanted love and attention and cuddles galore.

"Babe…" (Y/n) shuffled across the bed and moved her arms towards Eddie who faintly smiled and reached out for Nina. He was fine with needles whereas (Y/n) wasn't a fan and it made her feel lightheaded. When she had her bloods taken at the doctors, the boys always had to go with her as she had a tendency to faint.

(Y/n) shuffled down and tucked her face into Eddie's shoulder, kissing his bare skin as she dragged her blanket higher around her. A smile pulled at her lips when Chris moved up and snuggled himself down into the corner where (Y/n) had just been sitting so she was now between two of her boys.

Tilting his head to the side, Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of (Y/n)'s head and started to run one hand up and down Nina's back. She was well and truly off to sleep now but she could stay with them a while longer and have a cuddle before she went in her cot.

When Evan came back with the bag of goodies Hen had graceously helped him rob from the station, he sat down next to Eddie's thigh. He took his chance to cup Eddie's chin in his hand and tilt his head up for a kiss. He was overjoyed that food poisoning couldn't be contagious like a sickness bug, it meant Evan could kiss and snuggle his partners all he liked without getting ill himself.

"I look like shit," Eddie murmured with a raised brow. He knew he looked far from his best and he felt like he was on death's door, but the goofy smile and the flash of teeth made Eddie's stomach flip.

"Hm, you look good to me." Evan stole another kiss and took the chance to bite down on Eddie's lip just to make him groan. "Where'd you want it?"

A tired, lopsided smile pulled at Eddie's lips and he kept his left hand on Nina's back while he held his right hand out to Evan. If the IV was on his right hand, he could rest his arm on the edge of the sofa bed or on a cushion so none of the kids bumped into him or pulled it out by mistake. And it meant he could loop his left arm around (Y/n) or the kids if he wanted to.

Eddie closed his eyes and pressed his lips against the top of (Y/n)'s head. Breathing into her hair and focusing on the feeling of her lips pressing hollow kisses up and down his shoulder and over as much of his neck as she could reach.

He stayed still and patient while Evan swiped an anticeptic wipe across the back of his hand and poked around to find a good vein. He found one and got out a needle and cap.

"Here you go, babe." His thumb pressed down on the back of Eddie's hand over the vein and he carefully inserted the needle. He tore off two pieces of medical tape to secure it in place and attached the fluid line.

Evan took the opportunity to lean over Eddie, give him another searing kiss and place the IV bag on the back of the sofa behind the pillows. He made sure the wire wasn't tangled or crumpled and it was wide open. Being behind the pillows stopped any of the kids from playing with it or bursting it when they came back.

"Your turn," Evan spoke gently and smiled when (Y/n) placed her right hand on his thigh while her left hand stayed curled around Eddie's bicep. She kept her cheek resting on his shoulder and shuffled a bit higher so her lips and nose could brush against Eddie's neck. She didn't want to see the needle go into her skin.

She felt Evan swab the back of her hand and poke around to find a suitable vein. But the moment the needle capped into her vein, (Y/n) could feel her stomach giving an awful twist and she scrunched her nose and pushed further into Eddie.

It felt like her pulse was throbbing under every inch of her skin and her head started to pound and feel like it was building up ready to explode.

"All done-"

Eddie groaned and brought his knees up near his stomach out of shock and instinct when (Y/n)'s forehead bashed into the side of his neck. He struggled to take a proper breath and he tried to keep his eyes on Evan when he felt (Y/n) slump and loll against his left arm.

She'd fainted.

"Oh God, come here," Evan moved the IV tube around the back of (Y/n) and tucked the saline bag behind the pillows next to Eddie's one.

He slipped a hand beneath her neck and Eddie's shoulder and gently reeled her up away from Eddie so she could slump back into the pillows. Evan expected a similar reaction, especially considering she didn't do well with needles and she hadn't eaten anything which would make her more lightheaded than usual.

He gently eased her back into the den of pillows and let her head slump to the right near Eddie. She would come around in a moment.

"Look after your mum for me while I do bath time." Evan murmured as he leaned over and kissed the top of Chris's head.

Chris leaned to the right, wrapping an arm around (Y/n)'s waist and leaning his head on her arm. He grinned when Evan kissed (Y/n)'s temple, then moved to do the same to Eddie and Nina before he climbed off the bed. Three of their five kids were waiting patiently to get a bath.

And when Evan looked across at them, his smile softened like butter. Lois was swaying back and forth on her heels, trying to stay awake and upright but she looked like she was about to collapse. Pete was leaning back against the wall with an arm around his stomach and his thumb between his teeth. Then there was Grace. The toddler was sat on the floor with tired eyes and her arms stretched up in Evan's direction.

"Bathroom, troop."

He leaned down and scooped Grace up so he could sit her on his hip while Lois and Pete walked in front of him towards the bathroom. Their movements were sluggish and their feet were shuffling along behind them, they were growing tired.

It made Evan's heart soften to see Lois and Pete slump down on the bath mat and lean their heads on the edge of the bath. They looked just like they were about to fall asleep and it made him smile. He turned on the bath and let Lois add half a bottle of bubbles.

"Let's get some pjs," He spoke quietly into Grace's hair and headed into the girl's room to find them some clothes to change into.

Evan crouched down in front of the bath, pressing his knees into the bottom of the tub while he turned off the taps and nodded for Pete and Lois to climb in. He tried to unlatch Grace's arms from his neck but she held tight, tucking her face into his neck as she grumbled.

"No."

"Oh, come on girlie, you'll feel better." Evan leaned over and fought hard to undo Grace's hold over his neck that was beginning to ache. Finally, she seemed to relent and flopped her arms down into the bath, splashing bubbles up high into the air.

Grimacing, Evan pulled back and sighed. He reeled his shirt up over his head and tossed it into the wash basket. They could splash him all they wanted today and he wouldn't fuss, as long as the kids felt better and smiled.

His arms folded on the side of the bath and he perched his chin on his arms, smiling when Pete turned around and placed a wad of bubbles right on the end of his nose.

"Thanks, buddy." He mumbled softly and reached a hand down into the water to grab a fistful of bubbles and splatter them onto Pete's hair.

His eyes cast down to Grace who was sat in the centre of the bath, right in front of him and he frowned when she reached up and patted his cheek. "Shave." She whispered, causing Evan to grin despite his confusion.

"I shaved this morning, I'll have you know." He moved his hand to run along his chin and down his neck. Evan shaved every morning. He didn't like facial hair, he never tried to grow a beard because the one time he did when Lois was a toddler, she cried when she saw his beard. Since then, he always shaved.

Whereas the kids didn't seem to mind when Eddie grew out his facial hair. But they were all used to Eddie having stubble most of the time so a beard wasn't a lot different. Both men had taken to shaving every day recently.

"No, shave."

His lips curled into a frown and his eyes narrowed down on his little girl, but a quiet grumble left his lips when he realised what she meant.

Grace found a handful of bubbles and smeared them all along Evan's face, lips and down his neck until he was coughing and snorting lavender bubbles. She then dabbed her hand in the water, and very carefully started to brush her index finger through the bubbles. She was pretending to shave him.

Evan stayed still and silent, closing his eyes for a moment when grace swiped the bubbles rather close to his eyes over his cheekbones. And he tilted his head back to let her clean the bubbles from down his neck.

Her gentle touch was soft and rather precise and delicate and Evan found himself smiling brightly. He was so used to the kids messing and tracing over all his various tattoos, but this was different.

"All done." Grave dipped both her hands in the warm water and planted them down on Evan's face, patting him like she was pretending to apply cream to his face.

"Is that better, baby-cake?"

Grace nodded with a tired smile before she leaned her head forward and pressed her cheek down into his arm. She curled both hands around Evan's arm that was dangling in the water and leaned on his other arm. Her eyes fell closed and she curled up in the water as if she was lying in his arms.

Leaning down, Evan kissed the top of her head and slid both hands into the water. One arm stayed around her front while his other hand reached out to mess with the bath toys Lois was pushing around the water.

The eldest girl was laid back so the water was up to her chin and she was tossing the rubber toys back and forth, but she wasn't really bothered with them. She was too tired to play which told Evan she really was ill. And Pete wasn't much better.

He leaned over and slumped himself against Evan's free arm and closed his eyes.

"Have we all had enough?" Evan mumbled quietly, looking around the three of them who all nodded. "Alright, one… two… three." He helped each of them out and handed them a towel, but a sigh passed through his lips when he looked down at Pete.

He flopped across Evan's lap, curling up with his arms around his middle and his head on Evan's jogging bottoms. The material turned a dark shade of grey and Evan tried not to grimace at the feeling of his bottoms now sticking to his legs. He knew Pete couldn't help it, he was sick and almost asleep.

"No… no! Papa mine!" Grace tried to nudge Pete off of Evan's lap but she stopped when Evan wrapped a towel around her and moved her to stand at his side.

"No, jealous bum, you can share me."

He wrapped a towel over Pete who seemed content just to wait and lie where he was. While Lois got herself dried and dressed, Evan dried Grace and looked around for her pull-up and pyjamas.

Grace flopped down on her back and kicked her legs out at Evan with the last little bit of energy she had. A smile on her face and a squeal passing her lips when Evan caught both her ankles in one hand and tugged her closer. He slipped on her pull-up and fought to get her into her onesie when she wriggled around on her back like a worm, just to wind him up and be cheeky.

"Go find daddy." Evan murmured as he lifted Grace to her feet and sent her on her way with a kiss on her temple.

She followed Lois out the bathroom, both respectively shouting for (Y/n) and Eddie.

"Pete… and you're asleep."

With his hands beneath Pete's arms, he carefully shuffled Pete off his lap and onto the bath mat in front of him. He dried him off and easily got him into his pyjamas while Pete barely turned his head or made a sound.

"I guess you're mine this afternoon buddy, hm?" Evan carefully lifted Pete up and settled him down on his chest with his face tucked into Evan's neck. He smoothed his hand up and down Pete's back as he walked down the hall and back into the living room towards the rest of his family.

A burning smile flooded Evan's face when he looked over them all. Eddie still had Nina curled up on his chest, but he now had Grace under his right arm and she had one hand on Nina's back as if she was soothing the youngest girl to sleep. (Y/n) had Lois curled up between her legs and Chris still attached to her left side.

Moving over, Evan sat down next to Chris and did his best to wedge himself into the tiny space at the end between Chris and the arm of the sofa. He kept Pete curled up on his chest and draped a blanket around them both.

"I think I'm rather good at playing doctor, don't you?"

#eddie diaz x reader #imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie x buck #buck x eddie

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