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#state of grace
wlntrsldler · 22 days
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ii. and i never saw you coming, and i'll never be the same. | luke castellan | state of grace
sixteen-year-old luke castellan has his first kiss with you, the girl he'd been hopelessly crushing on for the last two years.
athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)
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sixteen-year-old luke castellan was shooting daggers at annabeth right now while she playfully approached you, pretending to expose his crush on you. 
“beth!” he hissed, making a ‘cut-it-out’ motion with his hands. chris chuckled softly from beside him, too entertained by the situation unfolding. luke jabbed his elbow into chris’ rib, unable to handle two of his so-called friends laughing at his demise. “annabeth, please don’t!” 
that caught your attention. you turned around to see annabeth, a sheepish smile on her face as she awkwardly waved at you. you cocked an eyebrow before tilting your head to see luke, half-standing from the bench with a frozen expression on his face. chris was doubled over in laughter, nearly falling off his seat. 
“come with me,” you placed both hands on beth’s shoulders, letting her lead you to the two hermes boys. you stood in front of them, removing your hands from beth and crossing them over your chest. you playfully pointed between the three of them, “care to tell me what this is about?” 
“i think luke should tell you,” chris shrugged, making eye contact with annabeth. the two of them erupted in giggles and luke wanted the ground to swallow him whole. if it wasn’t for his friends’ actions, he’s sure it would’ve been the redness on his cheeks that gave it away. 
“well, go on, head counselor,” you bit your bottom lip, finding his blushing face completely adorable. 
you and luke got closer over the past two years since he got to camp. he was always around the athena cabin, at first because he wanted to be close to annabeth, but everyone knew that it slowly morphed into wanting to see you and hang out with you more. because he was always with you, the campers got to know him fairly quickly. luke was right– everyone did love you, and by association, the campers liked him too, or at least, tolerated him. 
you were known to be the nicest head counselor, even before you took the position from oliver, known as the best archer in camp’s history, and the wisest daughter of athena. the more luke hung out with you and got to know you, the more his feelings for you developed.
in his defense, it was hard not to fall for you. he’d never met anyone as funny as you. every time he returns to the hermes cabin from being with you, his stomach hurts from laughing so much. you seemed to finish each other’s sentences so the punchlines of the jokes die on the tip of your tongues, but you’re both out of breath from laughing that not finishing the joke didn’t even matter. 
you took care of everyone at camp, even if they weren’t your own siblings. he’d seen you bandage travis and connor stoll up one too many times and let them go instead of writing them up for one of their pranks. the boys would return to the hermes cabin, heads hanging low, with a look of short-lived apologies on their faces when luke asked them about why they had bandages on their forearms. luke pretended not to notice the knowing smiles the two troublemakers shared whenever he would say, you’re lucky counselor y/n was there. 
you were fearless. you were often chosen to be a companion for quests because everyone knew you were the best. you never denied them and it got to the point where chiron and mr. d had to make a public service announcement that you were no longer allowed to go on quests unless it was your own because camp fell apart during the weeks you were away. the first time luke prayed to the gods, to his father, was when you returned from a particularly difficult quest with clarisse and you were in the infirmary for three days.
but above all that, you made luke a better person. you inspired him to always find kindness in everything. you cared so much about your siblings and the campers and it made him open himself up to care for his own siblings. he and chris were inseparable now and luke knew he probably wouldn’t have been ready to get close to other people if it weren’t for you. you pushed him to work on his sword work, helped him understand strategies, and taught him everything about camp. eventually, people took note of him and he became the hermes head counselor not too long after. 
in between all of these things were luke’s favorite moments; like the calm minutes after hours-long training sessions, where you reveal something new about yourself. you’d go on and on about a random story that goes off into at least ten tangential stories, but luke didn’t care. he’d gladly lay on his stomach, letting the rays of the sun beat down on his back until his skin turned red and hot to the touch, to hear you talk. you’d roll over on your back or prop your chin on your open palm and ask him questions about himself. and luke would tell you things he’d never told anyone before. luke treasures these moments in his mind– small, happy memories, like a step-by-step guide on how to fall in love. 
“they were just going to pull a prank,” he lied, ignoring the ‘thumbs-down’ motion annabeth sent his way and the ‘womp womp’ that chris let slip past his lips. “told them to quit it.” 
“tsk, tsk,” you tutted, but there was no anger on your face, only fondness. you looked at annabeth, “i expected better from the daughter of athena, but you’re too much like your brother.” 
“oh, ew, don’t say that,” annabeth shook her head, walking away as luke raised his hands in defense. chris pat luke on the back, following annabeth back to camp to join everyone else. 
“i am offended that she is in her, ‘i hate my brother phase,” luke scoffed, shaking his head. he moved over to let you sit on chris’ previous seat. “i’m not that bad to warrant an ‘ew.’”
“she loves you,” you nudged him, letting your shoulder stay connected to his. “she’s exactly like you, even if she doesn’t admit it.” 
“she’s got the good parts of me,” he replied, looking down at where his shoulder was touching yours. his hand slowly crept to yours, trying not to be super awkward about it. 
he’d held hands with you before, when you’d mindlessly lace your fingers together underneath the table while you were talking to someone, wanting to feel him there, making sure that he was next to you or when you’d hold his hand during moments where he’d get so frustrated with the gods that you had to calm him down. but he always got nervous initiating it.
over the years, he’d grown to be strong and unafraid, but when it came to you, his resolve crumbled. with you, he was just a teenage boy with a crush.
“so, she’s got all of you,” you said, noticing his hand moving closer. you put a hand over his, flipping it over so you could properly hold it. you squeezed his hand making him rub his thumb across the back of yours.
“not all of me,” he turned his head to look at you, “i see parts of you in her, too.” 
“you mean our mom.”
“no, i don’t,” luke replied, sincerity in his eyes. “i mean you.” 
sure, annabeth was brilliant like the daughter of athena should be. she was always six steps ahead of everyone else and she quickly became your right-hand woman when coming up with strategies for capture the flag. there was no doubt that annabeth was a daughter of athena.
but there were so many parts of you, the person she looked up to the most, in her as well. annabeth was more patient than luke. she can explain things to younger campers, and sometimes older ones, a hundred times without getting frustrated that they weren’t grasping the concept. luke had to walk away so many times when he got frustrated. you’re such a hot head, luke, you said to him once, a teasing smile on your face as you ran your hands down his back to help him relax. beth also grew to read people well. she can hear the unspoken words in conversations and know exactly what someone needs, a heightened sense of emotional intelligence that luke knew she couldn’t have learned from anyone else but you.
there were other, simpler, things too; like how annabeth doesn’t tie her shoes too tightly, unless she was training or competing, so she can slip her shoes on and off easily, or how she tucks her camp necklace under her shirt just like you. 
the look in luke’s eyes was intense. you had to look away before you lost your senses and connected your lips with his. he does this often, say things so nonchalantly like it didn’t make your breath catch in your throat. he says these words with such clarity, like the only things he’d ever been sure of in his life were the things he says about you or to you. it made your head spin. 
“so,” you changed the subject, untangling your hands from each other to turn your entire body to face him. you poked his cheek with your index finger, “you gonna tell me the truth about what that was?” 
“what’s that?” he asked, dumbly, trying to act like chris and beth didn’t just leave you alone with him. he pretended to think, rubbing his chin with his fingers, “dunno what you’re talking about?” 
you groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder. you felt him wrap an arm around your torso, his chest rumbling as he laughed at your reaction. you looked up at him, temple pressed against his shoulder blade, “c’mon, luke,” 
“no,” he shook his head, face turning red again, “it’s humiliating.” 
“if i tell you a secret, can you tell me yours?” you whispered. luke shivered at the feeling of your breath hitting his skin. he felt the goosebumps rising on his arms that he had wrapped around you. you pulled your head away from him, creating more distance, “how does that sound?” 
“no promises,” he replied, eyes darting to your lips for a brief second. he cleared his throat, “if your secret is a good one, then maybe i’ll consider it.” 
“oh it’s a good one,” you said, mischief in your eyes. there were only a handful of moments where you let go of your head counselor persona, where you’d join the hermes cabin in wreaking havoc on camp.
his sixteenth birthday came to mind. you arranged for a surprise birthday party for him. he woke up to an empty cabin, which was rare, and camp was deserted when he left to grab breakfast. when he got to the dining hall, all the food prepared were his favorites and there was a messily painted banner hanging across the walls, courtesy of the art skills of the younger campers you taught during arts and crafts the day before. 
the food wasn’t nutritional at all and mr. d made it clear that it would never happen again. i don’t know what i was thinking saying yes to an all-day sugar rush, he muttered after the third instance of young kids breaking their arms from attempting to climb up on their cabin roofs. maybe twinkies and salt and vinegar potato chips were not the healthiest breakfast foods, but luke thought it was perfect.
he received his present from you after, a messenger bag for the son of the god of messengers and a compass that always pointed him back to the athena cabin. so you always find your way home, you reasoned. 
luke knew he didn’t need a compass to bring him back to you. his dad gave him the ability to always find his way back home and he was glad you knew that to him, home was wherever you were. on his sixteenth birthday, with you under his arm and the compass safely tucked inside his pocket, for the first time, he was thankful to be his father’s son. 
that look of mischief in your eye always meant that you had something up your sleeve and luke didn’t know if he should be excited or scared. luke pressed, “tell me, then.” 
“i have a crush on this boy,” you scrunched your face up, cheeks dusted with the lightest shade of pink.
he pursed his lips, heart dropping. he knew this time would come. he was thankful that he was spared from the boy talk that you engaged in with your other friends. he often heard you and silena squealing about some guy one of you liked and he was glad that you had other friends to talk to about it because he couldn’t handle you gush over another guy when he felt this deeply about you. 
“it’s the new aphrodite kid, isn’t it?” luke asked, pulling away from you. “everyone is in love with him. even clarisse said he was cute! i personally don’t see it.” 
you rolled your eyes, “luke, come on.” 
“what?” he asked, “i’m pretty sure he’s not even a natural blond.” 
you didn’t know if luke was playing dumb or if he genuinely didn’t realize that you were talking about him. you’d been blatantly obvious about how you felt about him, at least you thought you had been. you were always sitting beside him, choosing him to be your partner for head counselor activities, spent every free moment you had with him, and you were touchy with him, more than you were with anyone else at camp. at this point, all that was left to do was to spell it out for him. 
you laughed, throwing your head back in laughter, “it’s not jack.” 
“who then?” 
“nope,” you said, shaking your head. “you gotta tell me your secret now because i told you mine.” 
“that was like half a secret, angel!” 
“okay so tell me half of your secret!” 
“fine,” he relented, “i have a crush, too.” 
your eyes widened, heart beating a million miles an hour. you knew how he felt about you, but you'd just been waiting for him to say something. “now, you have to tell me!” 
“you first!” luke laughed, reaching out to grab you when you got up. you slipped past his fingers, walking away. “come back!” 
your laughter filled his ears as you stood behind him. you wrapped your arms around him, propping your chin on his shoulder. luke nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a content sigh. he tilted his head to the side, his lips ghosting over the skin of your arm. 
you stayed like that for a few beats until he broke the silence. he should be upset right now because you liked a boy and wouldn’t tell him who it was, but it was hard to be mad when you were holding him like this. he looked up at you, a boyish grin on his face, eyes half open, “you gonna tell me?” 
“it’s obvious,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. he purred under your touch, grabbing a hold of your arms to stop you from leaving his side. you weren’t planning to. “come on, luke. use that pretty little head of yours.” 
luke tucked his face into the crease of your elbow, hiding his blush. he racked his brain for anyone else who you could have a crush on, but his mind ended up blank. when he thought of who on this earth could deserve you, he came up with no names. there was nobody who was good enough for you. 
he changed his strategy. who did you hang out with at camp? he tried to think of the people he saw you with. he’s seen you with the boy from the apollo cabin a few times but that was usually only when one of your siblings got injured. maybe the boy from the hephaestus cabin? the one who made his sword? no, you only talked to him on luke’s behalf that one time when you noticed he needed a new sword because he broke it during a particularly intense training session with you. he frowned. the only guy you actually hung out with at camp was him. and that couldn’t possibly be… unless? 
luke’s head snapped up, “do you like me?” 
“do you like me, he says,” you mimicked, “took ya long enough.” 
you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before running away from him, giggling and blushing like a school girl. luke couldn’t react quick enough to stop you from leaving, too dazed at your rushed confession. when he snapped back to his senses, he jumped from his seat, using all his strength to chase after you. he was thankful for his growth spurt because he caught up to you before you entered the main area of camp. 
he wrapped his arms around your hips, twirling you around, ignoring your sounds of protests. he stared at you as you beat on his chest, hair in disarray from the wind. his lips were in a full-blown grin, head spinning with thoughts of you. you. you. you. you were all he could think about. 
he finally put you down but left his hands on your hips as you tried to fix your messy hair. he liked you like this, soft and shy. it was a part of you that felt like was reserved for him. usually, you took on this authoritative, caretaker role, always having the weight of responsibility resting on your back, but with him, in these secret moments, you were delicate. luke wanted to protect you from everything, not because he thought you needed his protection, but because he felt like he’d finally found his purpose in this life-- to be with you. it was still caused by the hands of fate but away from the meddling of the gods.
“you like me,” he teased, pinching the skin of your hips. 
“don’t get cocky,” you replied, smacking his chest. 
luke hummed, leaning closer, “i like you too.”
“i know,” you whispered, inching closer to him. “just wanted you to confess first.” 
“c’mon angel, cut me some slack,” he blushed, eyes darting to your lips. he ran his tongue across his lips, “didn’t think i had a shot with you.” 
“you need to start giving yourself more credit, luke,” you reached over to cradle his face in your palm. your eyes traced over his features, mesmerized by the pools of honey in his eyes, the pink of his plump lips, “you’re the best person i know.” 
“all ‘cause of you,” there were those words again. there was no room for argument when luke spoke about you. he was sure of it, too sure of you.
“are you gonna kiss me or am i gonna have to make all the moves in this relationship?” 
luke rolled his eyes, “shut up.” 
he placed his lips on yours, unable to stop himself from smiling as you kissed back. he pushed you towards him, wanting to feel you closer. the kiss was short because you were both breathless and grinning. it was messy and uncoordinated with it both being your first kisses. when he pulled his lips away from yours, he placed kisses all over your face, your jaw, your neck, his curls tickling your skin. 
eventually, he stopped in a fit of giggles, lips puffy and pink. there was a dazed look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. he let go of your hips but threaded your fingers together as you walked into camp, burying his face into your hair when he heard chris and beth hollering in support when they saw your intertwined hands and disheveled demeanors. 
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evermorre · 6 months
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state of grace is never not the song. driving in the car? walking down a busy street? riding the train looking out the window? lazily riding around on your bike? lying in your room contemplating the meaning of life? state of grace is the perfect compliment to any situation. i never saw you coming. and i’ll never be the same. have you done your part? have you streamed state of grace (taylor’s version) today?
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loveisbraveandwild · 10 months
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speak now taylor singing “i would lay my armour down if you said youd rather love than fight” then red taylor singing “this is the worthwhile fight love is a ruthless game unless you play it right” then lover taylor singing “threw out our cloaks and our daggars because its morning now its brighter now” then evermore taylor singing “when i dropped my sword i threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door and we live in peace” and now midnights taylor singing “and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier fighting it all with your army”
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kitsebastianconnor · 9 months
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Speak Now or Red this or that. Mine or Everything Has Changed? Sparks Fly or Treacherous? Back to December or The Very First Night? Speak Now or Stay Stay Stay? Dear John or 10 min version of ATW? Mean or I Bet You Think About Me? The Story of Us or Sad Beautiful Tragic? Never Grow Up or Nothing New? Enchanted or Message in a Bottle? Haunted or The Moment I Knew? Last Kiss or 5 min version of All Too Well? Long Live or 22? Ours or Run? If This Was a Movie or Come Back... Be Here? Electric Touch or State of Grace? Castles Crumbling or The Lucky One? Foolish One or IKYWT? Timeless or Starlight? Speak Now or Red?
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scaredofghosts · 16 days
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those are kind of the intense emotions
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fuck-sewingmachines · 5 months
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Put the surprise songs you've seen live in the tags ! I wanna know!
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ncutii-gatwa · 1 year
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♡ TAYLOR SWIFT performing STATE OF GRACE The Eras Tour — Glendale, Arizona (March 18th, 2023) 
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wizardblood · 4 months
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favorite lyrics ➝ taylor swift | red (taylor’s version) pt. 1
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wineonmytshirt · 1 year
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Jen’s 1K Celebration!!! For @maimyoutoo
you are in love // new romantics // state of grace // ivy // my tears ricochet // the story of us // safe and sound // the great war
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this is a state of grace...
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andichoseyou · 8 months
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eras tour surprise songs parallels
3/18/23—Glendale, Arizona: this is me trying / State of Grace
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wlntrsldler · 22 days
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i. busy streets and busy lives, and all we know is touch and go. | luke castellan | state of grace
fourteen-year-old luke castellan develops a crush on the pretty girl who shows him a type of kindness he'd never experienced before.
athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)
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fourteen-year-old luke castellan was apprehensive to let go of annabeth’s hand. the small girl just healed from her injuries following their arrival to camp. she showed no sign that she was physically not okay, but luke could still feel her shaking. they’d both just lost thalia, a companion, a friend, who they faced the scariest things with, far greater than any of their imaginations could conjure up combined. luke didn’t think it was a good idea for her to be sent off to cabin 6 just yet, away from him. 
“s’kay, luke,” annabeth tugged on his hand. he looked down at her, finding no trace of nervousness on her features. instead, she had an eager smile on her face as mr. d and chiron waited for her to walk across the stone path to meet her siblings. “i’m not going far.” 
oh, luke realized. he was the one shaking. 
he put on his brave face, telling himself that he had to be strong for his sister, but he knew deep down, he probably needed annabeth more than she needed him. the girl looked excited to be with her real siblings, and luke was being selfish keeping her away from them. he’d just lost so much already; his childhood, his sanity, at one point, his mom, thalia, and letting go of beth’s hand felt like he was giving up. he just needed something to live for, something bigger than his survival. 
luke crouched down to get eye-level with her, smiling softly, “if you need anything, i’m just a few doors down, ‘kay? whatever you need, little beth.” 
“i know,” she giggled, innocence in her eyes. she didn’t quite understand why her brother was being dramatic about it. they were safe now. 
luke ruffled her hair, making her squeal, before getting up. he gave a courteous nod to chiron and mr. d, taking hold of beth’s hand again as he walked towards the two children of athena waiting across the way. 
luke didn’t miss the way annabeth’s eyes sparkled at the buildings around her. she pointed out the intricacies of the columns lining the exteriors of some of the cabins, marveling at the vines that engulfed the walls of cabin 4. luke wondered if he was ever this small, if he ever found the beauty in the small things the same way that annebeth did. perhaps, in memories that are lost and locked away in the back of his mind, he used to be like her. 
annabeth looked happy here, safe. luke let out a breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in. he’d given up on a life other than survival a long time ago. since he was nine, he’d been running from everything all on his own. then he met thalia and he didn’t feel so alone anymore. and meeting annabeth, well, he found a new reason to keep going after that. she was too young to have experienced all of this. if he couldn’t protect his own innocence, maybe he could protect hers as much as he possibly could. 
“you must be annabeth,” you smiled at her, crouching down to her height the same way luke just did. “i’m y/n. i’m so glad to have a new sister.” 
“yeah, i’m annabeth. nice to meet you,” annabeth removed her hand from luke’s grasp, reaching over to shake your hand. your eyebrows raised in surprise, pleased at her manners, and accepted her handshake. she pointed at luke, “this is my brother, luke.” 
the boy beside you, holding a clipboard, furrowed his eyebrows. he flipped through the notes he had on his board, “i was told there was only one child of athena.” 
“yeah, no, i- i’m a child of hermes,” luke shook his head, the name of his father tasted bitter on his tongue. he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “she just means it like metaphorically? is that the word? we-we’re not actually related.” 
you stood up, eyes darting between him and beth. luke’s eyes met yours and he couldn’t help but flush under your stare. he’d seen pretty girls before; in line at a grocery store while he stuffed his pockets with stolen twinkies and chips, in the mall where he’d sit at sometimes to get away from the harsh weather outside, even on his way to see chiron and mr. d when he got a glimpse of aphrodite’s daughters, but he’d never seen anyone like you before. 
you had a commanding presence about you, like you had the answers to everyone’s questions and knew what was best for everyone, but it wasn’t intimidating at all. one look at you and luke knew you were a leader, one that led with grace and empathy and blessed with a face of an angel. you had soft features, kind eyes, high cheeks like you didn’t go a day without smiling, and hair that framed your face perfectly. he wouldn’t be surprised if people didn’t hesitate to follow you to the ends of the world if you asked them to. he was about ready to do that and he’d only just met you. 
you grinned at him, the crinkles by your eyes appearing, “but she’s your sister.” 
the smile that he returned to you was effortless. he glanced down at annabeth, nudging her, “but she’s my sister. annoying, but my sister, nonetheless.” 
“hey!” 
you and luke laughed at her harmless protest, sharing a look with each other that nobody else caught. the boy next to you, who unenthusiastically introduced himself as oliver, tucked his clipboard under his arm and motioned for all of you to start walking to the cabin. 
“luke,” oliver said, stopping his tracks, “we can take it from here. i’m sure you want to get some rest in your cabin after the 48 hours you just had.” 
luke wanted to say no. he didn’t want to leave annabeth yet. he would rather sit through long, droning minutes of learning about athena’s cabin, though he had no use for it since he won’t be living there, than retreat to the hermes cabin. but he also didn’t want to seem weak, clinging onto a seven-year-old girl when he should be perfectly fine on his own. annabeth said so herself, she wasn’t going far. 
you lived up to your angel-like demeanor when you spoke for him. you noticed the flash of panic in his eyes as he took in oliver’s words. you cleared your throat, “rest is for losers, oli. plus, the more the merrier. i say luke should come with us.” 
oliver huffed, but nodded, continuing his steps to cabin 6. you fell into a rhythm with him, conversing about camp activities that luke wasn’t too familiar with yet. annabeth trudged happily beside him, silent as she stared out into the view of camp. luke had to pull her by her shirt to stop her from running into things, her excitement getting the best of her. 
as oliver began his rant about some ares kid, you turned your head to sneak a glance at him and annabeth. luke felt his chest tighten when you smiled at him, all teeth and sunshine, before returning to your conversation with your brother. 
annabeth tapped luke’s hip, “i like her.” 
luke couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he looked down at her. his cheeks hurt from smiling so much, “me too.” 
luke wished he could say that the rest of his introduction to camp half-blood was as pleasant and nice as his interaction with you, but the rowdy cabin he was met with after he left annabeth in cabin 6 was something that he was not prepared for. unlike the athena cabin, where things were neat and put together, scrolls and books lining the walls, the hermes cabin was a mess. 
there were clothes thrown everywhere, makeshift beds in every corner of the cabin, and dozens of kids, claimed and unclaimed, running around. luke wanted to punch oliver across his face because how on earth was he supposed to get some “rest” with all of this going on? 
luke sighed, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as he searched for an empty bed. much to his dismay, the only bed available was the one right next to the entrance. he tried not to think about how little sleep he’d be getting with the door slamming open and shut with how many kids seemed to live in this place.
luke rolled his eyes, watching his siblings jump on the beds as they chased each other. none of them seemed to notice that he arrived, that he was new, but he learned from you earlier that too many half-bloods came and went in the hermes cabin. they were probably used to seeing unfamiliar faces and didn’t bother to introduce themselves anymore. 
with a silent groan, luke lay on his bed, trying to drown out the noise of laughter by pushing his thin pillow against his ears. the noise wasn’t unwelcomed, per se, but it was just foreign to him. he’d spent countless nights falling asleep to the sound of coos from animals in the woods and the sound of hushed echoes in the caves he called home. he’d slept through the roaring of the train tracks by his head and the sound of city noise outside his window when he managed to sneak into an empty motel room. he’d slept through the feeling of imminent danger, but never this. he doesn’t remember the last time he slept to the sounds of children laughing. 
he probably got a few minutes of rest before the cabin door swung open. the children quickly quieted down, which made luke get up from his position on his bed, ready to thank whoever it was that got his siblings to calm down. of course, luke wasn’t surprised when you were standing at the door, arms crossed over your chest. 
“come on, guys,” you tutted, shaking your head. “can’t you see someone is trying to rest? luke is new here and you’re not making a good first impression.” 
mumbles of apologies rang through the cabin before they all scurried out the door, all blushing in embarrassment as you sent them a look of faux disappointment. you walked over to luke, stopping at the foot of his bed. he sat up straighter, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. 
“sorry about them,” you grimaced, “they have too much energy for their own good sometimes, but you’ll grow to love them. i swear it.”
“yeah, they’re cute.” 
you couldn’t help but snort at the sarcasm in his voice. you motioned for the seat beside him on his bed and luke moved over to give you more space. you were so close to him that he could feel the heat of your skin radiating off you. “i take it your first day hasn’t been the best?” 
“it’s been… okay,” he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. his curls were a mess on his head and he’s sure the pillow he had against his face left an imprint. “just a lot to take in, i guess.” 
“i get that,” you said, taking off your shoes to sit criss-cross on his bed. luke thought the cartoon owls on your socks were charming. “i remember my first day here and how chaotic it was. i would love to tell you that it stops being like that after a while, but i’d be lying and i don’t want to start off our relationship on a lie.”
luke knew that what you meant by “relationship” was platonic, with no romantic connotations, but he was a teenage boy developing a hopeless crush on a pretty girl, way out of his league, so so sue him for how his heartbeat increased ten-fold at the word.
he tugged on the neckline of his shirt, “do they always listen to you like this?” 
“i don’t know if “listen” is the right word,” you chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i’ve been here a while, so all the kids know me. i dunno, if i had to guess, i’d say they’re just used to me.” 
luke hummed. you were being modest. it was clear that all the kids liked you. on the way to the athena cabin, multiple campers greeted you as you passed by, completely ignoring oliver who was beside you and him and annabeth who were trailing not far behind. you had to make so many stops to engage in small conversations with the people you ran into, younger and older kids alike. he was shocked at how you remembered everyone’s names. he lost track after the third kid. 
luke’s stomach growled in hunger and he couldn’t even play it off because it was silent in the cabin. he shut his eyes, embarrassed, as he looked away from you, clutching his stomach, begging his body to be his friend for once. 
“perfect timing, luke,” you showed no sign of being affected by his embarrassment. you slipped your feet into your sneakers. luke noticed you tied the laces of your shoes loosely, making it easier to take them on and off. “lunch is in five minutes so we better get going. when the ares kids get there first, they massacre the food before any of us gets the chance to put anything on our plate. all that training makes them hungry.” 
luke followed you out the door as you explained the structure and schedule of camp half-blood. he was only half paying attention to you because he was too busy listening to the sound of your voice and watching your face light up when you talked about something you found particularly cool. 
as you approached the line for food, thankfully before the ares kids, you handed luke a tray. he began to scoop up some food, before turning to look at you, “don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t the hermes head counselor be showing me around? not that i’m not enjoying this tour you’re giving me, but i figured each head counselor for each cabin would be doing this for their new siblings.” 
“typically, yeah,” you shrugged, “i’m not even the head counselor of cabin 6 yet.” 
luke’s eyebrows raised, “you’re not?”
“nope,” you replied, leading him over to an empty table. he sat across from you, waiting for you to continue. “oli is, but he’s leaving after this year. he got accepted to MIT. i’ll be taking over for him when he leaves.” 
“that’s cool,” luke nodded, taking a bite out of the chili mac on his plate. “who’s the head counselor for the hermes cabin?” 
a frown appeared on your face as you looked down at your plate. you used your fork to push around your food, “lettie used to be.” 
luke knew that tone– grief. it was the same tone he used to tell two apollo kids to be quiet when he overheard them talking about thalia when he and annabeth were still in the infirmary. that tone meant that it was something that shouldn’t be discussed. he changed the subject, “how’s little beth settling in?” 
your usual smile returned to your face at the mention of annabeth. luke was glad it was back. “she’s great! she’s brilliant, which i expected, but she’s incredible. truly, luke, she fits right in.” 
pride bloomed in his chest. of course beth was already impressing people. she was too smart for her own good and sometimes luke had trouble keeping up with her. at least now she had her siblings to talk to. “she is great, isn’t she?” 
you nodded, “polite, too. can’t say the same about some of these kids.” 
as if on cue, two kids started bickering with each other, using colorful language that luke was sure they probably shouldn’t be using at their age. they continued to spew insults at each other before an older camper marched over to them and scolded them. the interaction ended in the two kids muttering insincere apologies to each other.
you motioned to the scene with your fork, “see what i mean?” 
luke laughed, bringing his attention back to you. “how long have you been here?” 
“three years,” you pulled out the necklace from under your shirt, showing off the beads on the string. “i got here when i was 11. grover was my protector, too.” 
“how was–” he cleared his throat, swallowing the last bits of chili mac he had in his mouth. he usually didn’t care about how messily he ate, but you were so put together that he figured he shouldn’t scarf down his food like a heathen in front of you. beth used to make fun of him because he inhaled his food so fast that she wondered if he even chewed. “how was your life before all of this?” 
“nothing special, really. my dad tried his best to raise me, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. a single dad raising a daughter on his own is hard enough, and adding that your kid is a demigod would surely have anyone raising a white flag.” luke nodded in understanding, too familiar with the pressures of that from what he could remember about his mom. you continued, “but life was good before camp half-blood, normal. i grew up in a small town in connecticut so there wasn’t much to do.” 
luke’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “where in connecticut? i grew up in westport.” 
your jaw dropped, eyes lighting up in glee. you dropped your fork on your tray, leaning over to grab his shoulders from across the table, “no way! i’m from south wilton!” 
the name sounded familiar. he recalls seeing the name on a road sign when he first left connecticut, but he couldn’t remember exactly where it was. a lot of the places he used to go to as a kid blurred together into one giant mush over the years, but with how excited you were to find out he was from westport, he figured you guys lived relatively close to each other. 
luke thought about it; a different life where he probably met you under a different circumstance. maybe you guys ended up at the same high school, both terrified little freshmen, hoping that the older kids would take it easy on you on your first day. or maybe you met earlier than that; perhaps luke was sent off to another middle school, no doubt after getting expelled because of his shenanigans like he always did, and you’d be a student there. there were so many other ways you could’ve met each other, but something in his heart told him that the ending would be the same. 
you’d still be the nice, pretty girl sitting in front of him at the lunch tables, showing him the ropes of life, showing him the type of kindness he never experienced before. though, he’d probably be eating the smushed pb & j sandwich that he forgot in the bottom of his book bag that his mom packed him for lunch instead of chili mac and you’d both be normal kids, excitedly talking about recess activities instead of swapping war stories about hellhounds and monsters. 
“what a small world,” you commented, sitting back down on your seat. luke missed the feeling of your hands on his shoulders. he liked how touchy you were. it was like your emotions were so intense that you had to grab onto someone to keep you grounded. you looked up to the roof, wondering, “i wonder how many times we almost met each other. south wilton is only ten minutes away from westport.”
“probably not many times,” luke replied, off-handedly. he wiped his greasy fingers on the napkin beside him. he didn’t know he still managed to get messy even though he tried his best to eat proper, but you didn’t seem to mind. “i didn’t really go out a lot, i don’t think. always had to stay home with my mom.” 
maybe it was because you were the daughter of athena and you were blessed with heightened emotional intelligence, but you sensed that there was something deeper to luke’s words that he seemed to not want to share. 
luke lived with the unfortunate ability to only remember the bad things that happened in his life. he attributes it to his knack for survival; if he remembers the things that could get him caught in a sticky situation, then he won’t put himself in that predicament again. dodging death left and right for five years meant that his brain was filled with a step-by-step guide on how not to die, which left little to no space for happy memories. the things that he does remember from his childhood were things like turning the stove off because his mom forgot she was in the middle of making dinner or remembering to close the window in the fall or else the house gets too cold because his mom forgot to pay the electric bill for the heater. 
not really the best memories to have of his childhood, but it taught him a lot. it kept him alive. 
“that’s okay,” you took a bite out of the strawberry on your tray, red juice slipping from the corner of your mouth. you wiped it away with your forearm, giving him a wide grin, “we met each other here so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” 
before he could answer, annabeth came racing to the table, out of breath. she was grinning like a fool, already talking luke’s ear off about how great the athena cabin was. luke pushed his tray away, turning to face the girl, nodding happily as she animatedly explained all the new things she’d learned. he couldn’t get a word in to respond because she kept talking and talking, but luke didn’t mind. 
he stole a glance at you as annabeth took a break to take a sip of water. you watched the two of them fondly, chin propped up on your hand, listening to the girl’s stories as if you weren’t there when it all happened. 
he thought of your question. no, he decided, it doesn’t really matter. he was here with you now.
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bazkrekkers · 5 months
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but this love is brave and wild!
@swiftiehalloween gift for @statecfgrace! I've loved getting to know you and I had so much fun making this, happy halloween and may autumn be kind to you, grace <3
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swiftieinbrazil · 1 year
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Taylor Swift performing State Of Grace as one of the surprise songs at The Eras Tour on March 18th, 2023 (day 2 of the tour) - (x)
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fkevin073 · 1 year
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these are the hands of fate. you’re my achilles heel. 
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ewanmitchelll · 2 months
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Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (XIV): State of Grace.
Imagine you find the love of your life on Tinder. But there’s a lot going on before you and him realize that.
Warnings 1: fluff, light reading, some drama, light smut.
***
• (I)
I'm walking fast through the traffic lights. Busy streets and busy lives and all we know is touch and go. We are alone with our changing minds. We fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds, or fades in time…
You stare at the Tinder app you’ve just downloaded. Motivations cannot be concealed of why you are doing it. Loneliness is why it’s suddenly opened, leading you to interact with strangers under the pretense you are about to fall in love with the man of your life.
Ridiculous are such romantic notions, and you have no one to blame for nurturing them but yourself. That is why you open it and sliding these male pictures like they are part of an odd menu, you think you are very demanding when you see his picture on your screen.
His profile reads:
Aemond T, 28 years old. “Live fast. Die young. No idea what the fuck I’m doing here, but it is what it is.”
You think those lines are quite amusing and you press the “like” button, a part of you doubting he’s liking you back. Especially when your profile reads:
Y/N, 28 years old. “I talk a lot and make bad jokes. If you are here to be monosyllabic, please get out.”
To your disconcert, he likes you back.
“Well, let’s see how this one goes”, you tell yourself, somewhere between self pity and skepticism.
*
Aemond Targaryen has arrived home in the first rays of morning. Ran on the streets, crossing red lights, a color he dresses and lives for, hardly respecting it at times when he finds convenient.
Living at the upper east side of King’s Landing, he’s slightly drunk when he gets at the apartment he shares with the only tolerable member of his family: his sister, Laena, who’s sleeping by now.
Opening Tinder because, since he left Alys, he feels the need of one night stand, he finds himself quite impatient before such pursuit. When he sees Y/N on his screen, he knows this is not the kind of woman he usually hangs out with.
In fact, this bad boy hardly looks for good girls—Alys once accused him of mother issues for dating older women who somewhat resemble his mother and this kind of traumatized him. No one knows, but he’s doing therapy to fix this issue.
But you are not older, hardly look like his mother, Mrs Alicent Hightower, and… well, you look beautiful with vivid y/c eyes, smooth y/c skin and y/c hair tossed against the wind.
As soon as he sees he’s corresponded, he sends a message, almost falling asleep because it’s 5 am but he’s surprised when you promptly reply.
“What’s up?”, Aemond writes, half drunk, half asleep.
“All good. And you? Where do you speak from?”, you write back.
“Upper east side, you?”
“Not the richest part of the town for sure.”
When reading these acid lines, Aemond laughs, though something about them annoys him in the same measure.
“What do you know about that?”
“Enough to know this is not a place I frequent.”
“So where do you come from?”
“I recently left High Garden and am temporarily living at the capital. In that neighborhood called Y/C.”
“That’s a good neighborhood. Despite your prejudice, I actually go there at times.”
“My prejudice? Do you suppose I hate rich people now?”
Aemond is not sure how the hell this is going. Shouldn’t a one night stand be this difficult to find, for sure.
“Sorry. I’m drunk.”
He’s about to throw the phone away and touch himself instead. This appears to be a better option. Besides, calling Alys is not fucking considered.
“Apologies accepted. I admit I did not express myself well”, you write. “Should we start again?”
Aemond, between horny and impatient, finds himself compelled not to throw away his phone, after all.
“Sure, why not? What are you doing at 5 am? I mean… I have the excuse of being drunk after a fantastic party at the port, but you?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts over my head, I think, but this is not a conversation for Tinder.”
Now Aemond is wide awake. You don’t look like any superficial woman he’d been talking these days.
“Why, tell me about it. I am an expert when it’s about anxiety and other things. Besides, who do you take me for? I like deep conversations.”
“Send me a text message and we can keep this going.” And you write your number down.
The silver haired male raises an eyebrow. Despite the poor starter, you are more interesting than he’d formerly judged.
I wonder what lies behind these photographed vivid eyes, Y/N.
***
You exchange messages with Aemond for three days. A date is set, and before you know expectations rise. Then you start to sabotage yourself.
You begin to look for excuses when it comes to meet this strange, handsome rich man. Old traumas remind you of past failures, but your mind is briefly distracted when he sends you a message:
“Hey, Y/N. How’s it going? Didn’t hear from you today.”
It’s mid-week, and due to your work as y/c you occupied yourself enough to avoid his name or the fact that in three days you might meet him.
Part of you wonders what could possibly go wrong whilst another makes a power point presentation with lists of why it could go worse than expected.
“All good”, you eventually answer. “Sorry for not answering straight away. I’ve been working.”
To your surprise, he doesn’t take long to answer you back.
“How’s work so far?”
You know Aemond works as humanities professor at Westeros University, but that he’s also part of that (rather infamous) Targaryen family.
“Good so far. Just busy. How’s yours?”
“One needs patience to deal with young adults that still think they are teenagers. By the way, apologies for the swift change of subjects, but how’s our Saturday going? Still standing, I hope?”
You hesitate, panicking before the idea of seeing someone. Part of you tries to find motives to avoid him, but another, more reasonable, reminds you this is living: hurting, yes, but embracing the joys life may offer. Shielding oneself against disappointment will not stop them happening, so what is the point of hiding in shadows under the pretense of impeding suffering?
“Is 10 o’clock good?”
“It works fine for me. I’ll see you there!”
It’s set. Your first date in three years…
• (II)
You come around and the armor falls. Pierce the room like a cannonball. Now all we know is don't let go. We are alone, just you and me…
Aemond is not romantic, but practical like his ex used to mock. He is not the kind of man who opens easily, rather being a man of actions.
How unusual, or perhaps following an advice of his sister dear, that he opts as first date with a girl he’d never seen before a picnic at the Aegon’s Hill.
Dressed like someone who could easily be mistaken as a motorcycle rider man, he’s wearing a pair of sunglasses and threw over his shoulder a black jacket, wearing a simple white shirt and black pants.
He checks his phone once a while, but why is he feeling dizzy at this first encounter with a stranger?
It’s when he spots you dressed in a flower dress, medium y/c hair blowing against the wind, wearing a pair of blue sandals on your feet.
A funny contrast you two are, like sun and moon when they meet, resulting in an eclipse. But as Aemond watches you come, shy and insecure about him, he wonders where this will go.
Taking off his sunglasses, he stands and smiles:
“Y/N? It’s me, Aemond.”
“Oh”, you barely blink when spotting those purple eyes. “You are taller than I had assumed.”
He chuckles at your remark.
“In my family this is a remarkable trait, some would say.” Aemond offers you a seat and you soon take it.
You see the picnic is already set, the cloth already spread over the green grass on a spot that has some shadows thanks to a large tree that there stands.
There are fruits, cakes, cereals and breads, but also juice, water and coffee. You are positively impressed by the effort he paid to this. Aemond side smirks at your reaction.
“What? Did you like it?”
“I loved it”, you smile the brightest at him. “Thank you, Aemond. I’ve never done picnics before.”
“No?”, he inquires, watching you with interest. “How come? I thought this was a common thing at High Garden?”
You laugh heartily and Aemond decides that he likes the sound.
“I am not a noblewoman, my dear. It may be a tradition amidst the local elite. You must certainly have heard of a beauty named Margaery Tyrell. She does promote these events there, but like I said, I’ve moved to Kings Landing a few years ago.”
“The name may hint something, but I don’t care about elites and their gatherings”, says Aemond, serving himself some water whilst you opt for some juice. “My father loves throwing fanciful parties, but I don’t fit them, so I stopped going.”
As you study him, your gaze and his linger for one small, but significant moment before you say:
“So I get you are not very close to your family?”
“Not really, no. But you wouldn’t be if your father favored one child over the other and expected gratitude in return”, he smiles despite the poisonous words.
You raise your eyebrows.
“Is it that bad then?”
“You have no idea.”
You tilt your head.
“I cannot believe I relate to you, Aemond Targaryen.”
For some reason, this brings you both to delightful laughters in that first date…
***
• (III)
And I never saw you coming. And I'll never be the same…
It’s been two weeks. What was supposed to be a chasing after one night stand it has become new discoveries giving space to new sensations.
Aemond likes to kiss your lips in his car, to make you laugh at his bad jokes or listen when you tell about your day.
You like to listen to him too, not only about his days, but his past experiences, open wounds that mirror yours. And when he kisses you it is as if the world stops spinning and everything takes in a slower rhythm.
His kiss makes you feel unspeakable things, but that you never felt encouraged in doing them, transferring to reality what has only been a fantasy of your dreams.
Nonetheless, you are still reluctant in pushing affairs forward and Aemond respects you that. He reads you like an open book, always observant about your mannerisms.
This day, for example, you two are at a coffeehouse that is located within a bookshop. There, you read a book of poems all the whilst he drinks coffee. It’s a comfortable silence and it gives him such a peace, one of the kind he’s unused to it.
“What are you looking at?”, you ask upon sensing his stare, which makes you blush.
He chuckles, finding adorable how easily he makes you shy.
“You”, says he directly. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful like you, reading so concentrated.”
You giggle like a silly girl, finally putting the book aside to take his long hand in yours, enjoying how smooth it is when your fingers are locked with his.
“Stop it”, you shoot him an embarrassed look. “You know it’s untrue.”
Aemond laughs quietly. He then makes sure you are now sitting on his lap, disregarding the fact you two are at a public place.
“I mean every word I say”, he looks deep into your eyes, holding your hips as he rests his chin over your shoulder. “How come I feel more alive when I’m with you, dearest Y/Nickname? My heart races when you look at me like that.”
You lean closer to him, a smile spreading big on your lips before cupping his face with your hands.
In your mind you cry out a big “I love you”, but these words don’t reach your tongue yet. You thus kiss his lips instead and there you stay, at your private paradise.
*
Later, he drives you to his home. His sister isn’t there and Aemond wants to show you his place properly. This is the first time you are there since you and him started dating—though no label has come out of either mouths yet.
Once inside, you are given a tour at the apartment. It’s bigger than you’d expect, but cozy and nice to look at with a huge view at his living room to the sea.
“Look at this view!”, you exclaim in awe as you see green hills mixing with different modern buildings that are combined with the blue of the oceans, reflecting the same shade of the color that paints the skies. “I wish I was this privileged! But then I remember I already am.”
And saying so, you look at him, transmitting more than you’d expect. But even so… when Aemond meets your gaze, he sees it through you. What is curious is that, somewhere in his past, he’d flee, panic or fight it in his way by sabotaging the process.
He still has his scars, and these are eventually coming to surface, but this silver haired male has no space in his mind that is not you. Thus, he comes to stay behind you and says:
“You know what, Y/N? Be with me. Be my girlfriend.”
You turn your head at him. It is easy to be involved by sweet words and empty promises, but this is not what you feel when your wide-eyed gaze meets his intense one.
Souls speak in silence when desires, sentiments and thoughts are aligned in one purpose. Could it be any different? Perhaps yes, but neither you nor Aemond conceive otherwise.
"Yes, my dearest."
You turn and wrap your hands around his neck. Proximity is shortened as his long, callous hands tight the grip around your waist and his forehead once again rests against yours and a kiss comes as a result.
Though he is not yet ready to speak these three words that at times can be seen behind his dazzling purple eyes, Aemon is more than ready in building a new, more optimistic future with you by his side.
A sentiment and perception that you share as your togue snakes in his and together dance in one slow syncronized rhythm. Silence remains undefeated in the surroundings... but for how long?
His is the fireous pursuit and you, like a timber prompted to burn. Soon, you are pressed against the wall with his lips still locked with yours, but his hands move to your hips, there staying, there caressing your bum before rising to your waist and slowly transferring his gentle, warming touch to your back, underneath the blouse you wear.
It does not help that, after biting your bottom lip, he breaks the kiss so he gradually grows bold in his teasings. You like how your boyfriend--and the word brings a smile to your redish lips--takes his time to get to know you and your pace even if you suspect he's a dragon like the standard of the symbol of his famous family.
You play with his long locks, wrapping them around your fingers, sighing quietly as his tongue takes its time to get familiar with your neck. You giggle softly, however, when his hands rest subtly on your belly.
"Yes, babe?", he raises his eyes to meet yours and in them you see mischief. "Is it good for my lady?"
Your knees often weaken and your body gets instantly warm at whenever he is gallant with you. Aemond, a good observer, knows it well. No wonder why he smirks at you.
"It is more than good, I fear to say", you chuckle, struggling not to rub one leg to the other, especially when he looks at you like that. And you find yourself restless, prompted to let your fingertips vaguerously move from his arms to his chest, thus helping him remove his shirt.
"Is it so?", Aemond laughs quietly, letting you take the reins of the moment. "Your innocent gaze makes me no fool, young lady".
Saying so he presses you one more time against the wall, biting your neck all the whilst your hands eagerly move to his pants.
"You are my doom", you whimper impatiently.
The spark is about to explode...
***
(IV)
So you were never a saint and I've loved in shades of wrong We learn to live with the pain, Mosaic broken hearts. But this love is brave and wild
Even sun sets in paradise. In due time, his obscurity comes to surface as well as your vices. Jealousy is a trait you dislike in yourself, reflecting the insecurity within due to bad experiences in former relationships.
His self entitled taste for liberty awakes this beast, coming to test your relationship in the famous “three months crisis”.
“Don’t give me the silent treatment”, says Aemond, troubled by your silence as he drives you home.
The cause of disagreement rests in the unwelcoming presence of Alys Rivers. Two days after Aemond’s birthday party, she, who remained a close friend to his brother Aegon—even if his entire family hates her for reasons you have not yet figured out—paid him a visit and you were not told about this.
But he eventually tells you like it is not relevant for your relationship. You, proud where sentiments are concerned, think that if he cannot see how wrong this all is, certainly will not find out by you.
“I am not giving any silent treatment”, your words cry a wound open in your ego, your voice betrays your pride.
Aemond sighs and stops the car somewhere random.
“Come now, don’t be like this, Y/N”, he looks at you with confused eyes. “We have always talked about everything, haven’t we?”
Your therapist usually tells you that, regardless of how uncomfortable it is to speak out, you must not swallow your sentiments nor bury them by turning into a burden that should be forgotten. Or else your body would feel the results, which in turn were not nice.
Aemond can see you are struggling against yourself, aware that underneath you there lies old scars that still do you harm. He puts a hand around your shoulders, patient.
“Take your time”, he says with his usual soothing voice.
In other circumstances, he’d not be patient. But this is someone whom he cares deeply, having grown to love sincerely. Only another woman holds his patient affection and it’s his sister, Helaena.
Eventually you burst into tears, letting yourself exposed before this man you love. You’d think he is the kind of guy who likes strong women so you’d never let be seen so fragile, so open.
Aemond somehow comprehends it, then he lifts your face so you can meet his gaze and see there’s no judgement behind his eyes. Wiping away your tears, he suddenly realizes, after examining his conscience, the probable cause of your hurting.
“What did I do, lass? There is no need to push me away. We must speak. What is troubling you, my love?”
“I… I…” you take a deep breath, confident you can battle your demons. “You welcomed her, the woman who you told me you loved fiercely for many years. You welcomed her at your house and tell me as if this is no big deal? She may remain friends with your brother, but then what about us? What about me? Do you care so little about my feelings that you simply receive her, a woman I cannot equal in many ways?”
Oh, the thought comes too late. So this is what it’s about.
Aemond doesn’t know how to respond straight away. Sticking to his early encouragement, he is not running away from himself.
There is embarrassment, there is shame. His thoughts are a mess, but only after you stop sobbing that he turns at you.
“I’m sorry, Y/Nickname. That was imprudent of me.”
“I am not that kind of girl who is possessive of her boyfriend. Who you hang out with is your problem, we all have friends and it’s completely understandable to be friends with one’s ex but…”
“Wait”, he frowns. “Are you friends with your exes?”
You ignore his remark.
“…to welcome her like that without even telling me, and at your own house with no one else. How can I feel comfortable with that?”
“Aegon was there”, Aemond mumbles. “This doesn’t excuse, I know. I’m sorry, darling. And I had no idea you compared with her. For the love of God, I am your boyfriend, not hers. If I wanted to relive the past, I would be a historian or a museologist.”
Pleased to make you chuckle, Aemond smiles at you, pressing a soft kiss against your temple.
“Are we good?”
“Yes, my love, we are.”
And you two stay silent, appreciating each other’s company with only the stars and the poorly illuminated posts as witnesses.
*
A few months later, a graver disagreement comes like an earthquake to shake the stability between you two.
Aemond is a possessive man, so he is not exactly a man of sharing. This flaw comes particularly when he feels threatened by others. One of these is his nephew, Jacaerys Velaryon.
He thought this rascal man was being friendlier to you than you deserved. You two had a fervent argument after that.
Or when you accused him of running away of his commitment to you by not introducing you to his family.
As you can see, it’s been a hell of a ride.
But twelve months later and insecurities are overcome, with you finally settled with each other’s demons.
***
• (V)
This is a state of grace. This is the worthwhile fight. Love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right. These are the hands of fate. You're my Achilles heel. This is the golden age of something good and right and real…
You mount on him, ready to another drive. It feels so damn good to have his cock twitching hard, thrusting inside you as you two move slowly.
“This is so damn good”, you moan, eyes closed.
“Do not be loud, my dear”, Aemond smirks, adjusting to you, taking a seat without letting you fall.
Curtain is open, giving path to moonlight spark in his bedroom. You are at his apartment, having recently moved together.
But dear Helaena’s birthday is coming soon and some of the family is spending time there.
“I am trying to, but you make it difficult”, you whimper when he takes your breast to his mouth all the while fingering you concomitantly to his moves.
And then he rolls you to his bed, fastening his pace and kissing you passionately.
Not too long after that and you both come together in the same climax. When cuddling you, Aemond says.
“I corrupted you, didn’t I?”
You cast him an amused glance.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve become more naughty since we’ve met”, Aemond chuckles, kissing your neck. “Not that I am complaining.”
“What can I do if the makeup sex is really good?”, you laugh quietly.
Interlocking fingers, you two stay like this for a moment, staring into the nude dark sky able to spot from his bed.
“I was thinking…”
“Yes?”
You look at him, admiring his beauty, the paled, smooth skin, the well built muscles perfectly drawn in his shaped body, his long hands that mould so well with yours… Even his wrongs, his flaws, his vices… make you love him ardently.
Sensing your gaze, Aemond begins to flush.
“I am no romantic”, he whispers in his usual quiet tone. “But you know how I’ve grown to overcome my disability in expressing my thoughts and sentiments.”
“I’ve always judged you did this better than me”, you muse partially joking, pleased to make him smile.
“I…”
Now on your elbows, you take his face with your hands.
“What’s it my dear?”
Avoiding your inquisitive gaze, Aemond is silent before bursting it soon:
“Be my wife.”
You barely blink, a small, silly smile, coming to form on your lips.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me”, he blushes.
You laugh at his lack of sensibility. Throwing yourself at him gives the peace his rioting heart requires.
“Is this a… yes?”, Aemond asks, unsure. “I should have done it better, I’m so…”
You shush him by kissing his lips, then saying:
“Of course this is a yes! You are my state of grace, Aemond Targaryen! I could have not asked for a better husband.”
When contemplating the genuine joy stamped in your features, he, stroking your cheek, then says:
“You are the love of my life, Y/N Y/LN.”
Without waiting for any response, he holds you against his chest, rocking you in his arms as you share a kiss.
It’s the first chapter of your happily ever after…
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