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endlessthxxghts · 8 months

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You Better Jump... (part 2 of 2)

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈9k

Summary: Your neighbor fixed your lock for you. How can you ever repay him? [read part 1 here]

Warnings: Canon divergent (no outbreak) & mentions of Sarah but we don't see or interact with her (AU - she moved out, lives on her own). Partial physical description of reader (having a thick/curvy body, wears a dress/feminine). Reader is a polyglot but no explicit mentions of race/ethnicity. Feminine pet names (sweet girl, darlin’, etc.). Flirty/awkward interactions and heightened sexual tension. Reader’s unhinged bestie <3. Implied age gap, but no explicit mention as to how big. LATINO JOEL MILLER (😫). An oddly weird amount of sweetness for 2 people who just met LOL. SMUT 18+ MDNI: Joel gets turned on at reader being a polyglot LMAO. Overall dirty talk/vulgar language. Dom/sub undertones (not heavy or established but definitely present). Vaginal fingering, p in v unprotected (I’m not sorry), semi-public sexual activity, thigh riding, bit of exhibitionism kink, oral sex (f receiving), squirting (blink and you’ll miss it), spit kink, choking, hickeys/marking… please let me know if I’ve missed anything!!

A/N: HERE'S PART 2 (THE FINAL PART)! ENJOY, MY LOVES!!💚

MASTERLIST

You and Joel make out like that, with your front door wide open, until you hear a loud meow from what you immediately know to be the neighborhood cat who likes to visit you once in a while. You two break away from each other, breathless, startled from the feline just sitting at the foot of your door.

You look back up to Joel with a cheesy grin on your face, and he mirrors your expression, bringing one of his hands up to run along your red and swollen bottom lip. “Sorry,” he chuckles breathily, “got a little carried away.”

You slowly lean forward into his touch and take his thumb into your mouth, swirling it around your tongue. “Don’t apologize,” you say. You pull your mouth off his thumb and leave a little kiss to the pad of it, “I liked it.”

He groans, his eyes completely black and the grip on your waist tightens, “Darlin’,” he warns, “I need to take you out properly first.”

You slowly back away an inch with a smile full of trouble and put your hands up in a surrendering motion.

His jaw clenches, “You’re trouble, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

You shrug your shoulders in response, “Maybe.” You fall to your knees in front of him, slowly, and pick up the tools he dropped before your little makeout session. You stand on your knees, head in line with his hips, and look up at him. You reach around and tuck his tools in the back pocket of his jeans, grabbing onto his belt loops to pull yourself back on your feet, “Thank you for fixing my door for me, Joel.”

Before you can break away from the close proximity, his arm snakes around your waist yet again and pulls you in, his other free hand going straight for the underside of your jaw. “Pick you up at seven tonight, hm? Wear somethin’ pretty,” he says, leaning in for a deep kiss that sucks all the air out of you, “Somethin’ that gives me easy access, yeah?”

And with that, he walks out (the cat in tow), shutting the door in the process.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s 5 o'clock by the time Joel left you completely speechless at his last words, and it’s 6 by the time you call your best friend to get your ass over here right now and update her on everything that happened, including her stupid ass comment that made it right into Joel’s earshot. Of course, she laughs hysterically at that, slapping the shit out of your arm with every deep breath she takes at an attempt to calm herself.

“Alright, bitch,” she says, wiping the edges of her eyes from any residue tears, “Let’s get ya dressed, so you can jump-”

“That’s enough,” you say, slapping your hand over her mouth.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Holy fuck.

All your life, you were never really confident in yourself. You were secure enough in your identity that you knew you weren’t that bad to the average eye, but you also very much knew that you weren’t jaw-droppingly sexy. That is, until Joel made you feel like the hottest person on the planet with how he couldn’t control himself with you. Mix in your best friend’s way of hyping you up, and fuck did you feel unstoppable.

You’re not much of a dress person, but you did have a silk, dark green spaghetti strap dress that you bought on a whim a year back. You were slightly skinnier then, but the way it hugs you now accentuates all the right curves and you’ve never felt so fucking beautiful. The dress is also very flowy, having a long slit on both sides, stopping at your hip. Standing, sitting down, no matter what angle, anyone is bound to see a slip of your underwear. Which is totally the reason why you make the executive decision to not wear any, and not because of Joel’s words ringing in your ear since it left his mouth.

You enter your living room once again, giving your best friend a bit of a show before you kick her ass out, and just as your laughs settle down, you hear a knock at your door.

No fuckin’ way it’s been an hour already, you think to yourself. Your eyes go wide as you look at your best friend, her expression mirroring yours. You frantically look at the clock on your television stand, and, it has been an hour already, fuck.

You tell your best friend to hide in your room for now because there is absolutely no way she’s meeting Joel yet. She frowns, but ultimately she listens and runs to your room while you run to grab the door.

You’re already out of breath from the show you were giving your best friend, and the nerves that were building with Joel on the other side of the door you were about to open is not helping one bit.

You planned on just side-stepping him and making it straight for his car, so he doesn’t come inside, but as soon as the door opens, your breath hitches. Joel is so fucking sexy, Jesus fucking Christ, you want to swallow him whole right fucking now. As your eyes give him a full sweep, you make it down to his sleek black shoes, and in your peripheral vision, you see that your feet are still bare. Shit, there goes your plan.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty sight,” he says, also looking you up and down, matching your energy, wanting to devour you just as bad. You smirk up at him and muster up a bashful thank you, but you’re still in a trance from how good he looks. Finally, you feel the outside air tickle your feet, so you start stepping backwards into your apartment, beginning to kneel down to reach the heels you set aside earlier.

He notices where you’re headed and stops you by gently grabbing you by the hip, “Here, may I?” And before you can even think to decline (which you never would), he’s already on his knees for you, for the second time today, and you can’t help the pooling arousal in your core. Your panty-less core, to be exact, which is now only inches away from him.

He grabs your foot and situates it on his knee while he works to unclasp the strap. When he does, his rough hands are grabbing your ankle so contrastingly soft and situating your foot into the heel. He makes sure the strap wraps perfectly around your ankle, and seeing how big his hands are, you would think he would struggle with such a tiny buckle. But no, he clasps it faster than even you would, and he finishes off by leaving a sweet kiss just above where the strap lays on you. He hears your breath hitch at that, so, like the menace he is, he places three more soft kisses, making the journey higher up your leg. And before you can beg him to keep going, he’s already switching your feet around, and repeating the exact same process to your other foot. Including the three kisses up your leg. He looks up at you, a smug smile and a playful sparkle in his eye, “Ready, pretty girl?”

“Y-yeah, I-I’m ready,” you stutter out, eyes already glossed over. He stands at full height now, his hand falling to your lower back as he guides you to the front door. He pauses, though, and you look up at him slightly confused. “I reckon she won’t be here when we get back, but, uh, aren’t ya gonna introduce me to your little friend?”

Your eyes go wide, “How-?” You begin to question, but his fingers are already at your chin, guiding you to look at the black Jeep, backed into a parking spot next to your car, with a bumper sticker of a half set of butterfly wings. It perfectly matches up to the sticker on your car, making a full butterfly. “Oh,” you say defeated but also impressed he picked up on such a little detail. It makes your heart warm a little.

He lets you go from his grasp, and you turn your body in the general direction of your room and yell, “Bitch, get out he-”

It’s as if she had her ear to the door the entire time, waiting for the moment she could dart out because she doesn’t even give you a moment to finish your statement. She’s already in front of you both within seconds.

You give her the eyes that she immediately translates as please play it cool, but you both know she won’t. “Hi, Joel, right? I’ve heard lots about ya,” she spits out at the speed of lightning as she holds her hand out for him to take, and she quickly follows by introducing her name. Joel chuckles at her eagerness and his date’s obvious embarrassment. It’s endearing. Reminds him of his relationship with Tommy. It warms him to know you have a true ride or die in your life, it’s rare to come across these days.

Eventually the introductions are over, your best friend is headed back to her home, and you and Joel are headed to some restaurant that he refuses to tell you the name or where it is, just that the “Drive is worth it, I promise.”

“A 40 minute drive?” you say jokingly just to rile him up, “This better be the best goddamn thing my mouth is ever gonna taste, then.”

His stare breaks from the road for a moment to look at you, then it’s back on the road. But he has a shit-eating grin on his face. “We might as well turn around then, huh? Because the best goddamn thing that mouth of yours is ever gonna taste is not available in any restaurant, no matter how far or fancy.”

It takes you a minute to register, but when it does, you can feel your cheeks and ears heat up, spreading down to your chest, and eventually his dirty implication forces the heat to settle in between your legs. “Christ,” you say under your breath as you shift your hips in his passenger seat, not wanting your already soaked pussy to get anywhere.

Maybe you should’ve worn some panties after all.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You guys are on the last stretch of your drive, about ten minutes left, and Joel’s hand has found his home on your thigh, thoughtlessly rubbing his fingers up and down. However, your mind is completely racing because fuck you just wish he’d move up a little higher to where you are absolutely begging for him the most.

As if he hears your plea, his hand goes higher and higher, but then he stops. His hand goes rigid, grip gets a little tighter, and his breath gets a little heavier. His hand is high enough to where he should be feeling the hem of your underwear, or at least that’s what he was expecting to feel.

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel?” you say as innocently as possible.

“Are you not…?”

“No,” losing the innocence in a matter of seconds.

“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me, baby,” he grits out as his hand resumes his path to your wetness. The closer he gets, the more your hips try and angle upwards so he can reach you better, and as soon as his fingers are running through your folds, you’re fucking done for.

“We’re not leavin’ this car ‘til you cum at least twice on my fingers,” he says, his voice completely dark now. “Ya hear me?” He questions as he applies pressure to your clit.

“Fuck! Yes- yes, please, Joel,” you whine out. You shift your body slightly towards his direction, and you open your legs as much as his truck allows you to. Immediately, his fingers slide from your clit and come down to your entrance, spreading your wetness all over you.

He dips into your hole, just one finger in and slowly starts pumping in and out. You’re so turned on by him that just one finger is enough to make that wet squelching sound from going in and out of you. You let out a moan at the action, your one hand shooting to grip the handle of your door and the other gripping onto his bicep. “You make the sweetest sounds for me, darlin’,” he says to you, southern twang increasing in line with his own arousal.

“Please, baby-” you mutter as your head falls back. His one finger speeds up at your words, “Oh, c’mon, use those words,” he teases a second finger at your entrance.

He’s only using one finger right now, and you’re already fucked out, unable to speak or think. You so badly want more of him, though, so you will yourself to talk. “Oh, p-please, an- another finger, Joel, please.. n-need you so bad, please,” you beg.

“That’s right, baby, usin’ your words for me,” he slides his second finger in, “Dámelo.” Give it to me.

“Oh my god,” you damn near scream out, his words spurring you on more than you’ve ever felt. More slick leaks out of you at his Spanish command. Of course he’s fucking sexy and has the filthiest mouth, in multiple languages, known to man. His two fingers are coming in and out of you at a delicious rate, the thickness and length of him hits that sweet spot in you without even trying. “Touch your clit, baby,” you barely hear him say with how blissed out your head feels. Slowly, you let go of the door handle beside you and bring your hand to your clit, rubbing messy circles on your center, coaxing your orgasm closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Joel, your fingers-” you say as he works you open. “My fingers, what? Go on, lemme hear you, trouble.”

Your breathing speeds up to an erratic pace, hot and heavy, “t-too fuck-” your moan cuts you off as your orgasm approaches. He makes his fingers bend in a motion that hits you right where you need it, and- “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, Joel.”

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, baby,” he says, his movements slowing momentarily.

In your foggy haze, you find yourself peaking at the time, and- It’s only been four fucking minutes? Never has a man ever been able to make you cum that fast. Your past girlfriends, absolutely, but the men you slept with? They’re not even worthy of the label boyfriend if you’re being completely honest. Whatever the case is, you just know Joel has you absolutely fucked. You knew this from the start, of course, but it’s finally setting in. When he’s knuckle-deep inside you while less than ten minutes out from your mystery date location. Chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?

You’re brought back from your slight distraction when you feel him pull out of you. You whimper at the loss, your hips raising for more. “I know, sugar, I know,” he comforts, “I just have to get a taste before I lose my fuckin’ mind.” His fingers disappear into his mouth, licking and sucking every last drop on him like you’re some lifesaving nectar he’s been searching all his life for. He lets out a pained groan, “I need to taste ya for real, fuck.”

He gives you no time to react to his words because his fingers are back inside you in no time. This time he pumps into you with a steady pace but a deep pressure that has you unable to take a single breath in. Your eyes are rolled back, and it feels like you’re drowning. Like you’re being consumed in everything Joel, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sweat is dripping down your neck at this point as the heat spreads from the apples of your cheeks to the swell of your breasts all the way down to your core. The sounds flowing out of you are uncontrollable and pure filth, and it’s riling him up so much that he is in literal physical pain. His hand that’s on the wheel is gripping so hard that his knuckles are ghost white, and his entire face is flushed with the utmost amount of pained self control you’ve ever fucking seen.

“C’mon, my filthy fuckin’ girl,” he grunts out, “almost there, baby, need one more from you,” his pace finally speeding up in the way that he knows, from your first climax, will end you. He tried keeping his pace slow on purpose, so he can draw out all your beautiful moans and gasps and drag you further into that floating state of mind, but you’re nearly at your destination now and he so desperately needs to get out of this car before he drops his gentlemen promise and pulls over to take you right here in his truck. Unbeknownst to you, he pulls into a parking space that is completely excluded from the general population, and he leans over to bring his hand on your jaw to make you meet his eyes.

“You look at me when I make you cum, yeah, trouble?” he asks, though it’s not much of a question. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him and you try to answer him, but you’re feeling too good that as soon as you starts, “Anythinforyou, Jo-” your orgasm cuts you off and your mouth falls open with the most desperate and needy moans you’ve ever heard yourself make.

He continues his movements as you let yourself fall deeper and deeper, and only until the overstimulation begins to hit you do you realize where you are. “W-when did we park..?” you groan out as he removes his finger from your spent pussy. He chuckles at your cluelessness, “Few minutes ago, sweet girl,” he says as he brings his fingers up to his mouth yet again to lap up your arousal. The action alone has your pussy clenching for something more.

As if he can read your mind, “Later,” he smirks at you. “Let’s eat,” he adds as he gets himself out of the car and walks to your side, opening your door and guiding you out. “Thank you,” you say shyly, unable to look up at him and as you stand on your jello legs.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The restaurant he takes you to is absolutely gorgeous and lively. It’s an Italian restaurant, small and homey, and it seems like a locally owned business. It’s extremely dim, and the main sources of light are purple and red, pointing in the direction of the live music. You two are sitting in a booth in a dark corner, intimate and excluded.

“This place is really beautiful,” you tell him with a smile that makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. “You eat here often?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters. Why is he nervous now when he just had you coming apart on his finger merely moments ago? Human emotion is a peculiar thing. “Actually, sorry-” he blurts. You sense his nerves, but you don’t mention it. It warms you that he’s actually nervous. It shows you he’s actively wanting more than just your lust-filled endeavors. You rest your arm along the table, your hand resting palm up near his own, offering him comfort. Silently telling him you’re nervous, too, for whatever it’s worth. He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers with one another. You can see him physically relax. “I don’t really eat here often, but my daughter has dragged me here once or twice. The food is really fuckin’ good.”

“I’m excited,” you squeeze his hand to reflect your excitement. You’re usually the one making the pasta or any Italian dish you’ve been craving because cooking is what you were bred to do. Cooking is the way to the heart, your nonna always taught you. No matter how traditional the sentiment was, it was one you carry with you always. Naturally, you were a bit reluctant to indulge, but the entire atmosphere here screams authentic Italian culture, reminding you of your nonna and soothing your reluctances.

You both scour the menu for a moment, but you both settled on an option fairly quickly, your waiter comes right on queue. “Ciao! Can I start us off with anything to drink?”

Too enraptured by your food options, you forgot to decide your beverage. Before you can even begin to think, Joel is already on it. “Could we get two glasses of red, your house blend, please?”

“Right away, sir, I’ll be back with those in a moment and take your order, then,” he says as he steps away. Immediately then, another individual appears with two glasses and fills them up with water while you wait.

Joel’s focus is on the water being poured, while you’re still devouring him with your eyes. You and him never had a chance yet to talk about your backgrounds or your interests, but so far he’s doing a damn good job at dissecting you: your favorite food being Italian and your drink of choice always being red wine, and he got that, all unprompted.

Finally, his eyes meet yours and the sultry look you’re giving him makes him immediately heat up, his red flush making its appearance again. “What?” He gives you an amused grin.

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean back in your bench seat, “I just- you’re really impressing me. It’s quite the turn on.”

His expression turns from amused to aroused in seconds. “Oh?” He leans forward. “Tell me more?”

Before you can indulge, your waiter is back, placing a wine glass in front of each of you and pouring your glass a little over a third way full before he sets it down to begin taking your order.

“What can I get started for you guys?”

You signal for Joel to go first. The look on your face screams mischief, so he doesn’t question it. He orders the filet mignon gnocchi, tonight’s special. The waiter turns to you.

“Buonasera! Vorrei la carbonara, per favore,” (Good evening! I would like the carbonara, please) you say as you beam up at the waiter. His expression brightens tenfold as he realizes what language you just spoke to him. “Perfetto, la carbonara,” (Perfect, the carbonara) the waiter writes down, then looks between the both of you, “I’ll get these in right away.”

“Grazie,” (Thank you) you say, and you hear a small thank you coming from Joel as the waiter walks away. You and Joel meet each other’s gaze.

“You-” he breathes. He looks really shocked. And utterly turned on. “You speak Italian?” You don’t remember when, but his hold on your hand switched to running his finger up and down your forearm. Chills fall down your spine. “Mhm,” you respond with, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while you reach for a sip of your wine, as if you don’t know how much you just completely rocked his world.

“Fuckin’ trouble, I tell ya,” he says under his breath as he tries to casually adjust himself under the protection of the table and the dark lighting.

After your meals come out, the next 45 minutes are spent in easy conversation. You ask him questions that prompt responses ranging from telling you about his daughter to him being a single father to his contractor business with his younger brother, Tommy. In return, he asks you questions about your family, your best friend, and the question that’s been burning him all night, “Where the hell did you learn Italian?”

You chuckle at his eagerness. Who knew Joel Miller would have an auralism fetish? You wonder what else could spur him on. “I can ask you the same about your Spanish,” you say as you wipe your mouth from any pasta sauce. “Throwing your words at me while you have me wrapped around your fingers, literally.” You say it so casual yet bold that it does nothing but fire him up more. His self control slips more and more with every flirty and filthy word your mouth utters.

He clears his throat and takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Grew up bilingual,” he offers.

Southern drawl with a Spanish tongue? Yes, please, you think to yourself. You hum in agreement. He picks up on it. “Ah, I see.”

“Not bilingual, though,” you clarify with a smirk, mainly to test out just how turned on he’ll get at the prospect of your tongue being versed in a variety of ways.

One hand of his tightens as if he’s trying to really hold onto the string that’s keeping his self control at bay.

You sit and think for a minute. You grew up in a mixed ethnic household, so you have a few options you could choose to reveal right now, but there’s one in particular that you know will make him snap.

The waiter hands the bill directly to Joel. He’s writing down the tip and total as he murmurs to you, “What else do you know?” The waiter comes back and offers you both pleasantries and bids you goodnight, in Italian to you and English to Joel.

You lift your napkin up off your lap and begin to stand. He starts, but freezes as soon as you begin to speak, “Bueno,” you breathe out. “Me encantó la comida, pero tenemos que ir a la casa, ¿qué piensas?” (Well, I loved the food, but we have to go home, what do you think?) You begin to walk in the direction of the exit, but you don’t feel his warmth radiating from you, so you turn back around. He’s sitting back down at the edge of the seat. You go back to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Joel…you okay?”

“Yep,” he says strained, “Just, uh- need a minute.” Both his hands are situated on his knees and he’s leaning over a little. Your eyes drift to in between his thighs and god damn he’s hard. Painfully hard. His bulge is so big it has you holding back a whimper at the sight of it.

You can’t help but make this situation worse for him, it’s in your nature. So you bring your mouth down to his ear and in a low whisper, “Faster we get into the car, the faster I can take care of that for you, big boy.”

He stands at full height now, his body completely flush and towering over you. He takes one look at you and his hands are on your waist, spinning you around and guiding you to the car without a word.

You can feel yourself walking faster than you’ve ever done in your life, and thank Heavens you do because as soon as you reach the car, he wastes no time in turning you around and pinning you between the driver’s side door and his body.

His lips meet yours in a frenzy, it’s a clash of hot breath and tongue, and you take all of him in fervently. His tongue passes over yours in a way that has your knees buckling. He clocks it immediately and before you know it, his thick thigh is slotted between yours, nudging your core. You moan into his mouth at the pressure, and he pulls away to grab your jaw, forcing your attention onto him. “Gonna give me another one, baby?”

“Joel-” you start, but he cuts you off. “You’re gonna give me another one, right here, right on my fuckin’ thigh,” he demands, his grip on your jaw tightening with his words, “Am I understood?”

You nod your head frantically as much as his grip allows you, followed by a “Fuck, fuck, yes, Joel, yes, I understand,” and your hips start moving on their own accord. “That’s it,” he chuckles, eyes blown out in his arousal for you. One hand wraps around your waist while the other bunches the front of your dress so he can see the mess you’re creating on him.

If anyone were to walk by right now, they would get a full view of your sobbing cunt rubbing all over his dressed thigh. It’s lewd, it’s pornographic, and it would definitely get you arrested for indecent exposure and disorderly conduct. And even though those reasons should be enough for you to stop what you’re doing and tell Joel you want to just get home first (which he’d be more than willing to oblige to for your comfort), you don’t want to. The prospect of someone walking by to witness what this hunk of a man can reduce you down to is enough to push you to the edge that much faster.

He slightly rocks his thigh back and forth in time with the grind of your hips, the now wet fabric catching enticingly on your clit. Joel’s grip on your waist tightens, encouraging more pressure into you. He lets go of your dress to slip his fingers in between your cunt and his thigh, adding more stimulation to the bundle of nerves as he pushes himself into you to meet you in another wet kiss. His lips leave your mouth and make its way down your jaw to just below your ear, and he bites. Hard. The searing sensation mixed with everything else makes your vision go white, and you’re literally creaming all over his black dress pants. He soothes that part of your neck with more sucking and licking as your hips come to a halt, his fingers still rubbing slowly, ever so often teasing them at your entrance.

Your full weight is leaned against his truck, and the only reason you’re still standing right now is because of his hold on you. He knows this, so keeping his one arm around your waist, he slowly pulls away from you to bend down and bring his other arm under your knees. He picks you up and cradles you to the front seat of his truck. He sets you down gently, buckles you in, and before he steps away to the driver side, he uses his pointer and thumb to nudge your chin up to his level, and he kisses you so sweetly, the butterflies in both your bellies fluttering like crazy at the feeling. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers.

“Then take me home, cowboy.”

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Ironically enough, your car ride back to your apartment is filled with the sweetness of each other’s presence, your main conversation of getting to know each other from dinner picking back up. The first few minutes of pulling out of the parking lot and getting onto the main road was you bringing yourself back down from your orgasmic high. You wanted to take care of Joel, so that’s what you started to do as soon as you gained your consciousness again, but he stopped you.

“Trust me, darlin’, I want you to so fuckin’ bad,” he says as he regretfully puts your hand back on the middle console and engulfs your hand in his. “But, at least, for tonight, I need to get you off before I do.”

You look at him even though he can’t meet your gaze. The gesture is heartwarming, you’ve never had anyone like this before. And although pleasing your partner is equally as pleasing for you, you don’t argue—but you are confused. “You did get me off, though…three times already?”

He smirks and meets your eyes for a moment before turning back. “That was just your appetizer, baby,” he lifts your hand up to his mouth and leaves a kiss to the back of it.

Your eyes go wide, “Oh,” you squeak out. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, “Okay then.”

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As soon as he parks, he’s out of the car in an instant, opening your door and guiding you out again. You walk up to your door, fumbling for your keys to unlock it. He’s behind you, lips hungrily kissing up and down your neck and your shoulder. As soon as you get it open, you turn around to face him, your lips smashing into his and tugging him into the house as you walk backwards towards the direction of the nearest piece of furniture possible. He kicks your door shut and swiftly locks it, his one hand only leaving you for an unnoticeable second.

You were trying to lead him to your living room, but somehow you ended up crashing into your dining table. He doesn’t care though because his hands are grabbing at your hips, hoisting you up. He breaks the contact with your lips and you whine at the loss, but immediately he’s kneeling. Third time today, you think to yourself, could definitely get used to this view.

“Told ya, I needed to taste you for real, sweet girl,” he says as he runs his hands up your thighs. “Spread your legs, baby.”

You gather the front of your dress and let it pool beside you, your bottom half completely bare to him. You spread your legs and bring your hips to the very edge, your core completely at his mercy. His eyes grow completely black at the view, your wetness dripping out of you.

He secures his hands at your hips, borderline grasping at the globes of your asscheeks, and your thighs hooked on his shoulders. He leaves warm, open-mouth kisses up your thigh, alternating between both. Once he reaches your sex, you realize there is absolutely no stopping him until he’s had his fill. Your one hand stays behind on the dining table to hold you up while the other flies to the back of his head, gripping the curls at the base of his neck.

You’ve never felt anything like this before. His plush lips kissing every place vulnerable to you with such a velvety sensation, his tongue pushing into you and nudging areas you didn’t know a tongue could reach, and his nose—My God, his fucking nose—providing life-altering sensation directly on your clit.

The only noises in your apartment are the sounds of his slurping mixed with your high-pitched moans and occasional dirty praise, and you’re sure your neighbors can hear you, but you’re feeling way too fucking good to even care about that right now.

“Just like that, fuck-” your hips start grinding into his face, “-shit, you feel so fucking good, Joel, yes!” You gasp out as his rhythm changes, forcing you to the edge for the fourth time tonight.

He pulls you in impossibly closer and shoves his face impossibly deeper, and at that moment, your orgasm crashes into you. Your arm that was holding you up gives way and you fall back into the dining table, back arching while your thighs tighten around Joel’s head. The feeling of being completely consumed by you eggs him on so much that he can’t bring himself to stop. He continues devouring you like his life depends on it, his moans and whines vibrating you deep within. You don’t know if it’s another orgasm hitting you or an aftershock from the one you just had, but all you know is that your ass is completely off the dining table and he’s holding you into his face drinking every last drop.

You use all your strength to pull yourself back up, both your arms behind you to hold you up. You try and scoot your ass back onto the table, but Joel is still gripping onto you, spoiling the entire area with slow, deep kisses. He gives extra attention on your thighs, sucking bruises that’ll flourish through the night. Loving the sensation but not loving the way your ass is hitting against the table, you softly call his name with a smile full of adoration, “Let’s take this to my room, maybe?”

He stands to his full height while scooting you back to be able to sit properly again. His smile mirrors yours. He grabs your face with both his hands and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s soft at first, but tasting yourself on him is a taste you don’t think you’ll ever tire of. Your tongue caresses his bottom lip, and he opens, pulling you in, his tongue embracing yours in an all-consuming dance.

Your hands begin to roam at his sides, making your way to the buttons of his dress shirt, and it’s then that he pulls away, remembering the question you asked. “Wait, wait,” he says. He opens your legs a little more so he can step in between. His hands are underneath you once again, and he nudges you forward, wordlessly telling you to wrap your legs around his waist. So you do, and he picks up, chuckling at the squeal you let out when your body reaches the air, and he leads you to your bedroom.

He lets you plop onto the edge of the bed and get yourself situated in the center. He finishes what you started and starts undressing himself. His shirt is the first to go, unbuttoning, untucking, and letting it fall to a random place on your floor. Looking down at you ready for him, he takes a step closer, unbuckling his belt, pulling them out of the loops, letting it follow the same path as his shirt.

He’s been catching the way you’ve been admiring all day, so he indulges in your fantasy a little in the way he undresses himself for you. With every article that gets removed, he watches your eyes grow hungrier, your breathing heavier. You’re too occupied at the sight of his body, you don’t make any move to pull your dress off, but that’s okay. Joel wants to be the one to unwrap his dessert.

Joel removes his pants and boxers in one go, and you let out an involuntary gasp at the sight in front of you. He is fucking huge. His length isn’t overbearing, but it’s his fucking girth that’s throwing you in for a loop. Your anxiety starts to rise a little; you have never been with a man as well-endowed as Joel and no strap-on you’ve taken could ever resemble what you’re about to take right now.

You fell into your overthinking, not realizing that Joel has made his way over you. He grounds you with a kiss, stealing all your worries. He grazes his finger over your forehead, pushing a hair away. The action makes you melt. Oh, there goes the butterflies, again. He guides your head to angle down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, and back to your lips once more. He makes sure your eyes are on each other before he says, “We do not have to do anything more if you are not ready, sweet girl.”

He’s been pretty dominating all night, which you don’t mind at all, but this coming out of his mouth at the fire of your anxieties completely distinguishes them. You know you’re safe with him. Your eyes tear up and before you speak, you snake your hand to the back of his neck and yank him into you for another kiss. As he pulls away, a tear falls, but his thumb catches it.

“I trust you, Joel, I need you,” you say as you lean into the warmth of his hand, “Please.”

“Sit up for me real quick then, darlin’,” he says, sitting back on his haunches and pulling you up with him. His hands find the hem of your silky dress, and he slowly guides it up your thighs, up your torso, and you lift your arms off so he can guide it off completely. Now it’s his turn to admire. It’s as if his eyes don’t know where to look first: at your luscious thighs, your beautiful tummy, your full chest. “You’re so perfect,” he whispers, not meant for you to really hear, but it makes you flutter all the same.

“Lay down for me, baby,” he says as he continues admiring you. You lay back down again, reaching your arm up to drag the pillow below your head. You spread your legs, inviting him in, letting him know you’re ready. But what he does next absolutely surprises you. He grabs your leg at the ankle and lays kisses everywhere. Up your calf, the bend of your knee, all around your thigh in the areas he marked earlier. He reaches your mound and makes no move to dive in. Instead, he lays kisses in the area, even a kiss is placed directly on your clit. You moan at the feeling. He mirrors his actions on your other leg. Then, he bends forward and begins kissing your tummy. Kisses in the general vicinity of your belly button, your ribs, making his way up your sternum.

Granted, your body is buzzing in arousal right now, and you’re making a puddle in your sheets, but mentally, the way he is appreciating your body has you feeling utterly content.

Your hand finds its home again in his neck just as Joel reaches your breasts. He continues his journey and kisses all around, his tongue swirling around your nipples. Your back arches at this, and you feel him smile against you as his hands wrap around your ribs, his thumbs caressing underneath your boobs. His mouth makes its way to your neck.

His mouth transitions to longer, wetter kisses, leaving trails of spit on the valley of your breasts and on your neck. The cooling of his spit coaxes a whimper out of you, wanting more of him. Wanting to drink him. His mouth finally meets yours and it’s slow but desperate, your hips lifting to meet his at an attempt for any kind of relief. His tongue massages yours and you can feel the spit build up; you eagerly try and lap it up.

You pull him away for a moment, slightly bashful to ask, but you need it so bad. “C-can you…” your gaze slips from his. His hand on your rib comes up to rest on the lower part of your neck, his fingertips grazing your jaw but also softly guiding you to look at him again. His eyebrow quirks up at you. Go on, he’s telling you. “Can you, uh- I-” you completely fumble. “Words, trouble,” he smirks, the nickname eliciting a sense of comfort within you.

“Canyouspitinmymouth, please?” You rush out with your eyes clamped shut, scared of what his reaction would be. He doesn’t say a thing, waiting for you to come to your senses and open your eyes. As soon as you do, he’s on you again, kissing you like before you pulled away to ask your question. Except this time, his fingertips secure themselves on the hinge of your jaw and nudge you open. Your lips but a whisper apart, his spit falling into your mouth, as your tongues’ tips dance around one another.

The moans you let out for him are sounds he never wants to give up. He’ll let you drink him dry if this is what he hears in his last breaths.

He pulls away, a spit string connecting you both. You lean forward, attaching to his bottom lip for a moment more before you let yourself pull away, then you swallow.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” you breathily giggle. He smirks at your antics, leaning in for another kiss to distract you. He reaches for another pillow above your head, and as your kiss becomes more heated, you grind your hips up into him, giving him perfect timing to slot the pillow underneath your lower back.

You pull back, “Wha-” you start to question, but he’s quick to respond. He sits back up for a sec, “It’ll help,” he says, and he brings both your legs into a bent position, like frog legs, in a way. Your confusion immediately fades as you physically feel your pelvic floor open up. Oh.

“I thought you were a contractor, not a chiropractor?” you tease.

“Watch it,” he warns. “You know, I could just,” his fingers graze your glistening entrance, “force it in,” he slips a finger in, slowly. You gasp, teasing demeanor gone in an instant. “No preppin’ this tight little thing,” he pulls his finger completely out, you whine in response. “How ‘bout that?”

A barely audible please escapes your mouth, unsure of what it is you’re begging for, and you feel your pussy clench at his words.

His eyes darken, “Oh, she likes that idea, huh?” He’s leaning over you now, kissing your jaw and neck as he grabs himself by the base and lines his tip up to your warmth. “Maybe next time. Right now, trouble, I’m takin’ my damn time with you.”

He grabs himself by the base and guides himself to your entrance, his other hand at the side of your head. He lets his cock grind against your wet folds for a few moments, covering himself in your earlier climax, and then his tip catches at your entrance. You both let out a sharp gasp at the sensation, and he slowly starts pushing in.

“Oh, fuck,” you let out.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he whimpers, “so fuckin’ good, fuck.”

Your pussy clenches at his tone of desperation, and his one arm moves to situate underneath the curve of your back, accentuating it. He’s halfway in you and the painful yet pleasing stretch of your pussy has you closing your eyes at the sensation.

“Baby, eyes on me, need t’see you,” he says, reaching down to nip your bottom lip. Your eyes shoot open and your brows furrow, your pouty face doing nothing to ease his yearn of just pushing completely in you with no remorse.

Finally he bottoms out, both your hips flush with one another, and being completely engulfed in you like this, he can’t hold out any longer. “Look, doll,” he rasps. His hand beside you snakes underneath your head and he’s lifting it for you to look down. “It’s like you’re made f’me, huh?” He says as he begins to pull out of you until only the tip is in.

Your eyes are fixed on the sight below you. Your pussy absolutely stretched out, his dick completely covered in your juices. You don’t have the mental capacity to form anything coherent. Joel knows that, so giving you no time to acknowledge his filthy words, he pushes inside you again. This time much faster and much harder.

He continues that rough and fast pace for a while, kissing and biting everywhere his mouth can reach, relishing in the constant moans and whimpers spewing from your mouth.

“S-so big,” your voice quivers.

“But you’re takin’ it so well, sweet girl,” he replies, voice husky and strained. He sits up a little to stand on his knees, his pace faltering momentarily. His arm from your waist moves down to the underside of the bend on your knee. He pushes your leg higher, opens you up more. The angle makes you flutter around his cock, and he can’t help but speed up.

“Fuck,” he grits out, “not gonna last with that, sweetheart.”

His hand beside your head moves to rest at the base of your neck, his fingers splayed wide across you, giving him more leverage to rock in and out of you. You feel your body wanting to arch up into him, but the hold he has on you and the angle you’re in gives him complete control over you. The thought brings you higher, and you can’t help what spills from your mouth next.

“‘S okay, Joel, p-please,” you moan, “Use me, use my pussy, daddy.”

His hand trails a little higher and now he’s completely wrapped around your neck, his thrusts sloppy, but harder than you’ve ever felt before. “Say that again, sweetheart?” he rushes, hurtling towards his release.

You let both your hands come up to grab ahold of the hand wrapped around your throat. You pulse your grip, hinting at him to squeeze. He gets it, and within seconds, his fingers are right on your pulse points, applying pressure and giving you a yummy dizziness.

Your breath hitches and your voice picks up in pitch, “U-use me, daddy, I want your cum, please.” His other hand reaches for your clit. You gasp out. Immediately then, a lightbulb turns on in your mind, and a dazed smile forms across your face.

“Yeah, baby, that what you want?” he says as his ministrations on your clit picks up, his cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you, over and over again. “Wanna be pumped full of daddy’s cum?”

“Ay, dámelo, papi, dámelo.”

It’s as if you two were really standing on an edge of a cliff, and you pushed him off with just your words. He roars out an addictive moan, and his release coats your walls. The warmth flooding in you and the pulse of his cock mixed with his fingers still circling, and you’re getting pushed off the cliff with him. His fingers begin to slow, and he’s letting go of your throat. He leans back over you to meet your lips, and you take him in. Quite sloppily, though, you’re doing the best you can with the feeling of his hips still slowly rocking into you, the overstimulation milking both of you for all that you’re worth.

You both stay like that for a few minutes longer, basking in the softness of him on your lips, inside you.

But then immediately he pulls away — and pulls out. You both hiss at the feeling.

“Shit! Fuck, I’m sorry-” he starts blabbering, but you cut him off with a finger on his lips.

“Hey, hey, hey, breathe,” you say as you take a deep breath for him to mirror, “What’s going on?”

He takes a deep breath and repeats himself, calmer this time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask where you wanted-” he gestures to his cum beautifully dripping from your entrance, “I know how risky that was- and we didn’t even use protection, I-” his panic starting to rise again.

You put your hand on his sternum and put a little pressure, figuring if your anxiety sits there, it’s worth a shot to see if that’s where his sits, too. It does. He looks down at your hand and back up at you, kind of shocked but not more than the situation at hand to question how you know that would help.

“A few things,” you say as you keep your hand on him. “One, I never stopped you, we both took the risks. Two, luckily enough for the both of us, I’m on the pill.” He smiles at that. “And three, even if I wasn’t on the pill” you continue, “I wouldn’t mind picking up a Plan B if it meant I got to feel you like that inside of me again…” your voice trails off and immediately he pulls your hand away from his front up to his mouth to press several kisses on your palm, bursting in lighthearted laughter, his anxiety fading away.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You and Joel laid in bed, tangled up in each other, for a little while longer, but he could sense the mess started to make you a little uncomfortable. He pulled both you and him off your bed, guiding you with his hands on your hips but ultimately letting you take the lead to your bathroom.

He guides you to your toilet and starts scouring your bathroom to find your washcloths. Once he does, he soaks it in warm water, and falls down to your level, so he can clean you. You reach out to grab the washcloth, thinking you’re gonna be the one doing it, but he’s quick to swat your hand away with a smile. He asks softly, “May I?”

Your eyes meet his, and all you can see is a genuine softness and a genuine yearn to take care of you. It makes you breathless. “Yeah,” you return his softness.

Being the pretty kinky and adventurous person that you were, aftercare always existed for you. Albeit, some of your past partners were more tender than others, but none of them treated you in a way that made you feel like you two were endgame. There’s something about Joel and the way he can be so soft, warm, and appreciative. He’s so experienced and considerate that you know he’s probably had his fair share of lovers in his past, but the way he treats you makes you feel like everything back then was solely leading him to this very moment. Like he spent years searching, and now that he’s found you, he needs to make sure what’s his is truly being taken care of in the way it deserves.

The thought and his actions should scare you, but they don’t.

There are people who spend years dating each other, still trying to figure out if they’re meant to be. There are married couples filing for divorce because they learned that they weren’t for each other after all.

There are others who get married after six months because they just know. Then, there’s you and Joel. Obviously you’re not going to marry him tomorrow but as you sit here, letting him care for you in such a way you’ve never felt before, you feel it. The rightness. The belonging. He’s gonna be in your life for a long, long time, and one of the most important people in your life at that. You don’t say any of this, though. You can’t. It’s too soon.

So, for now, you’ll just let your actions speak louder than words, and show him just how much you need him in your life.

“I’m cooking for us next time,” you say, pulling Joel from his own thoughts.

“Okay,” he says without a second thought. Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the exact same thing as you.

He feels it, too, and just like you, for now, he’ll let his actions speak louder than his words.

He reaches over and plops the washcloth into the sink, his eyes on you.

“Only if we christen the dining table before dinner.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks go hot.

Yeah, you are absolutely fucked. And so is he.

I hope you guys enjoyed!🥹 As always, feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. is extremely appreciated! Thank you to every single one of you for welcoming me with open, loving arms. I'm giving all of you forehead smooches right now. I love you all. So much.

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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circuitcircus · 22 days

Text

in defense of kabumisu……..

addressing things I see people say about why kabru being shipped w mithrun is ‘bad’ or why their canon relationship ‘doesn’t mean anything’ while also clearing up misconceptions of the characters some fans have

listen it keeps popping up and I just gotta do this or my brain will melt (if you don’t see it around then god I wish that were me) there’s an age gap!- erm there’s also an age gap in farcille (ily), the most popular ship in the series...also chilchuck looks like a kid but a lot of fans recognize him as a dilf because of his relative age, so there should be no age gap discourse among adult characters because it feels so conditional tbh

kabru taking care of mithrun is racist!- marcille likes to take care of others as well. is that sexist, or just an aspect of her character?

kabru isn’t treated like a servant, waiting on mithrun hand and foot…I mean he gives mithrun a foot massage but no one told him to do all that lmfao

he's also not the only one to care for mithrun. pattadol is shown to worry for him and milsril was the one to start taking care mithrun in the first place after he…...y’know. speaking of which-

they probably met when kabru was a kid!- neither of them showed signs of recognizing each other the entire time mithrun was introduced nor when they were together. and im pretty sure KABRU of all people would show some kind of recognition if they'd met before. it's kabru!!! the people person!!! mr. "i-noted-down-50+-characters-in-this-dude's-backstory-for-fun-and-actually-enjoy-social-gatherings"

you would think some kind of memory would come back to him especially after hearing mithrun’s backstory if milsril had even told kabru about him as a kid. but nope. it’s just fan speculation unless there's a side comic suggesting otherwise that i haven't seen

mithrun doesn't care about kabru, his shapeshift double looked like shit!- it's obviously because of mithrun's (then) lack of desires that it looked like that, but they really grow on each other

i think it's safe to assume it'd look more like kabru after they spent so much time together (also laios can barely even remember kabru's name..also saw his face multiple times and didn’t recognize him when they talked for the first time)

mithrun is racist!- he’s actually the least likely character to be racist since he lost his desires and that includes a desire for superiority over others. he even calls his past self out on that part of himself. the other elves in that side comic were being just as racist to shorter lived races but just didn’t use ‘outdated slurs’

(unfortunately literally every main character in dunmeshi is at least a lil prejudiced, but I believe it’s worldbuilding and a sign of the times rather than a reason ryoko kui is giving to hate each character)

taking care of others is a pain in the ass!- saying this as a reason kabru and mithrun shouldn't be together is basically saying disabled people shouldn't be allowed to have romantic relationships because they're a "burden"...if someone is actually willing to put in the work, then let them be.

that's not even all of their relationship, mithrun is the fighter of their duo and kabru would've been killed by the shapeshifter or something if he'd fallen down the hole on his own since he sucks at fighting monsters. mithrun helps collect ingredients for cooking every time, too (barometz fruits and griffin egg). he pulls his weight and then some!! i feel like people forget that part of mithrun a lot somehow.

+senshi literally cooks for everyone all time. it's kind of an important aspect of the narrative.

+also, while it is a popular fan thing I see around that kabru handfeeds mithrun, he literally never does lol this is mithrun using his own hands to eat:

also here we have him washing his own body

just saying because people like to treat mithrun like a baby even though the narrative respects him as a capable adult who also has special needs because of an accident. he’s captain for a reason

kabru hates taking care of mithrun!- not exactly, he was initially surprised and put off but got used to it quickly. i’m sure he’s grateful for all the times mithrun saved him from a monster and teleported them out of danger as well

he even starts doing “unnecessary” things for mithrun’s comfort and safety like when mithrun pushes himself too hard fighting, even after his mission to take care of him was complete when the canaries came back

here is even kabru resting while mithrun keeps watch (mithrun let him sleep for 5 hours before waking him up from the nightmare earlier, too):

there's nothing more to their relationship!- they actually have had a very tight and consistent dynamic since they met and they incite the most change within each other by the end. kabru is the one who inspires mithrun to create new desires so he doesn't waste away, and mithrun is the first person we see kabru being genuine with and it leads him to be more honest with others by the end instead of tiptoeing around everyone all the time (that mask was also the reason some ppl initially disliked kabru…)

kabru’s relationship with mithrun is honestly so important for his character and vice versa, but it’s often disregarded because of one over exaggerated aspect of it (an aspect that isn’t even the first way they interact with each other) or because people want to just straight up ignore it for some reason 🥲🥲

kui dedicates many panels to them that don't particularly serve the narrative as a whole in order to demonstrate this and i think that's pretty significant

you're taking this too seriously!- as if i'm the first person in the world to be crazy about a ship or the characters 😭 i love analyzing text and it's upsetting to see them mischaracterized when kui lays out the characters so clearly and deliberately

also they end up touching each other like all the time and have the kind of canon validation most ppl can only dream of lol i feel so insane look at this:

and this is just when they're first getting to know each other cuz there's a fuckload more

kinda hard to explain how i don't actually need them to get married or whatever but i'd die on this hill for them and i enjoy their dynamic immensely

haha you thought you were reading ship discourse but it was actually a character analysis 🤪🤪🤪

also don’t somehow take this to mean I think anyone has to ship them, I just need everyone to understand these accusations kind of don’t make sense especially when they can also apply to other pairs or characters

bonus kabru just looking at mithrun:

#dungeon meshi #kabumisu #kabru of utaya #mithrun #dungeon meshi spoilers #i'd rather be able to enjoy their dynamic without feeling like i have to explain it but i keep seeing the same takes i cant do this anym-#i feel like i advocate for kabumisu so much because i see so many people mischaracterizing kabru to make l4bru work like how they want #by saying he’s obsessed w laios because he thinks he’s hot..but he was curious about his autistic behavior and eventually thought his lack #of malice would make laios the best candidate for becoming dungeon lord to prevent another utaya tragedy. tho eventually he doubts that #not that i care that he's shipped with laius. i just want ppl to see kabru for who he IS bc some still think hes nothing but a shady bicth #i think that's best shown through his dynamic with mithrun (other than his own words of course) so i want ppl to acknowledge it properly #like idk if I can trust popular fan interpretations of the characters or relationships anymore after the shit with toshiro bro 💀💀#not trying to attach kabru’s entire being to mithrun or anything either just..saying #hm i feel like the way i worded all of this will make some ppl mad. not my intention but whoops #anyways has anyone drawn ship art of senshi and mithrun yet? anyone?

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bri-sonat · 4 months

Text

Bloodied Waters

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and slight violence, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, non-sexual nudity and intimacy. Slight canon deviation.

Synopsis: When Brienne returns covered in traces of battle, you give her comfort and safety - and a nice bath.

A/N: This has been sitting finished since July but I haven't wanted to post it for many reasons. For some reason I don't hate this fic anymore so I am taking the opportunity now so I can't revert back to my original state, lol. As per usual, English isn't my first language and all that.

Thank you to @daydream-cement for being the most supportive and encouraging friend I could ask for, and for reading this and giving me your opinion months ago.

Two months.

It had been two months since you had seen her last. Since she rode off to fight Gods knows what battle. In this time of uncertainty, you couldn’t be sure where she was sent off to anymore.

The imminent threat of the Night King and his army breaching The Wall weighed heavily on the land and it resulted in Brienne being away more than usual – but she had never been away this long.

You couldn’t be blamed when you began to wonder if she was still alive after the six-week mark and she hadn’t returned or been heard from. No one had from the company she had departed with. And when it hit eight weeks, your worries didn't get any better.

So, they were all either dead or still fighting for their lives. Those were the only reasons your stress-ridden brain could come up with.

If she had been removed from this mortal realm, she would have died alone. Alone somewhere. Probably in immense pain.

Even if it hurt you to even entertain the thought, you hoped her possible death had been fast. That way, she didn’t have to suffer.

Your heartbreaking thoughts were cut short by the sound of a horn, signaling that the group had returned and to open the gate. From your window, you could see a band of people on horses, three of them unmanned, which made you feel uneasy.

It was usually easy to spot Brienne in a crowd of people, but her straw-blonde hair was nowhere to be seen. The pit in your stomach that had been growing over the past weeks seemed to drop when you couldn’t find her.

Maybe the chance of her losing in battle was more probable than you had been willing to accept.

But until someone explicitly told you that she had perished in battle, you would have hope for her survival.

You witnessed as the gate was opened and the warriors rode in - the people and horses disappearing from view before the gate was once again closed.

Staring out the window and waiting for a knock on your door was only going to drive you mad, so you decided to pass the time in some other way.

Scurrying about your room, you tried finding something to do but restlessness got the better of you, and you soon found yourself waiting for that knock on the door that could either be the face of your love, or the worst possible news.

After fifteen minutes of silence, you started to land in the fact that she may not have returned, and the person who knew about your relationship was slowly making their way to your room to deliver the bad news.

You couldn’t take the agonizing pain so you left your room to venture for some hot water – hoping a nice hot bath might allow your tense body to relax. If even in the smallest bit.

When you returned to your room, hot water acquired, you were surprised to discover that there was no one waiting outside your door, nor had you met someone on your walk to or from. It was strangely silent.

The bath basin sitting in the adjacent room to yours looked more and more inviting by the second and you sprang into action before the water in your hands turned cold.

Pouring the large water cans with hot water into the vessel, you pondered how it would be to bathe with Brienne. How it would be to have such calm intimacy with the person you loved more than anything in this world.

The thought made you the tiniest bit sad and even if you wanted to keep the image in your head for as long as you could, you knew it was better to think about something else for now until you knew that the fantasy was a possibility.

You filled the rest up with the cold water from the large bucket next to the basin so it would even out to a nice lukewarm temperature.

Just as you were about to take your clothes off, a knock on the door disrupted your actions and you nearly ran to the door to open it – desperate for any piece of information regarding Brienne.

When you opened the door, you were met by a face you knew all too well, only this time, it was covered in dried blood, grime, and dirt. “Brienne, oh, Gods.”

You reacted quickly by ushering her inside your room and closing the door after her. She didn’t say a single word and her eyes were empty – apathetic and void of any emotion.

You didn’t know if the blood was hers or not but there was only one way to find out.

Carefully, you sat her down on your bed and undid her sword belt and fur cape before you began removing each piece of her dark armor, sneaking eventual glances at her emotionless face, your heart breaking each time she did not even make a move to look at you. She just stared dead ahead.

Never had you seen her like this before.

When all her armor was discarded, you were hit with the stench of iron, sweat, and mud – the smell of what you assumed to be battle. You moved your attention to her gambeson and gloves, working fast to get everything off to assess her condition – if she had been injured or not.

You remained quiet throughout your entire undressing of your girlfriend, if Brienne wanted to talk – she would. You assumed she needed some silence to process everything and just enjoy being back in a safe location.

The moment her gambeson and the rest of her clothing had been removed - you took hold of her dirty hands to guide her up to a standing position. You raked your eyes over her body and found nothing except for more blood, most likely having run down her neck and invaded the skin protected by the armor.

“The blood is not mine,” Brienne croaked out. The sudden noise made you jolt, your eyes snapping up to meet her desolate ones.

“Right...,” you responded, her statement confirming that she was not wounded in a way that would warrant blood. With your worries settled, you guided her to the other room. You had poured the bath for yourself, but she needed it more.

Slowly, she stepped in, her hand in a steadfast grip in yours as she descended into a sitting position until her entire body was underneath the surface – releasing a sigh once the water enveloped her.

You let go of her hand and grabbed a bar of soap sitting on the table next to the basin and she let the hand you had previously been holding fall under the water as well.

Brienne sat in the basin, staring into nothingness – her breathing slow. You rolled up your sleeves, kneeled next to the tub, and submerged the bar in the warm water before you began gently cleaning her skin from the stench and the mud and blood that tainted her soft skin.

Starting with her face and neck, you used your hands to gently apply the soap and you observed the suds turning a brownish red as it mixed with the blood and dirt on her skin.

As your eyes scanned her face, you noticed that her disheveled blonde hair had also been soiled by blood spatter and dried mud.

“Close your eyes.” It was a gentle command, and Brienne complied – closing her eyes without question.

Using a cloth, you dunked it in the water and allowed it to soak before wringing it out – bringing it to Brienne’s face to wipe away the lather. You dipped it in the water again to rinse it, but you caught a glimpse of it before you did – the color of the froth alien on the white fabric.

With her face now clean, you moved on to her hair.

Normally you’d utilize your own mixed hair wash for this, but you didn't wish to leave Brienne in her current state to go and collect it. Soap would have to do.

Your movements were slow and calculated as you pressed gently on the bottom of her chin, signaling for her to lean her head back. Brienne complied and tilted her head back and you maneuvered yourself so you could have the perfect view needed to wash her dirtied hair.

Utilizing one of the jugs you had carried the water with, you dipped it in the water to fill it up and used it to wet Brienne’s straw blonde hair, going over it once or twice before you were confident that all the strands were permeated.

You grabbed the bar of soap once again and dragged it against the palm of your hand – getting a decent amount on it before placing the bar to the side and rubbing your hands together. Tenderly, you started massaging the soaping into her blonde curls and scalp, making sure that all the dirt and blood loosened from her locks.

Brienne hummed as your hands mildly rubbed her head – adoring the alleviating feeling it gave her. The feeling of comfort and security. Her eyes were still closed, and she could feel the corners of her lips twitch the tiniest bit as you pressed a kiss to her forehead before moving to fill the jug with water to rinse the soap out of her hair.

You worked softly and slowly when you combed your fingers through her locks – pouring the water over her hair as you did, making sure that all the lather was washed away.

With her hair, face, and neck clean – it was time to wash the rest of her body.

You moved away from the head of the basin and switched to sit at the side of it again, kneeling next to it. You grabbed the bar of soap and immersed your hand into the water that was starting to turn red at this point and started to cautiously drag the bar across Brienne’s chest – removing all the dried blood and dirt.

Whilst one of your hands was in the water, the other one rested on the rim of the basin, right next to Brienne’s ear, and before you knew it, you felt her leaning her head against it. A small smile started playing on your lips at the intimate position you had found yourselves in.

You had never experienced this type of closeness with your knight before – it was incredibly heart-warming and you wouldn’t complain if you found yourself in this position again; without the blood and dirt, of course.

Brienne’s head rested against the back of your hand at the same time as yours worked on washing her arms, hands, chest, stomach – anywhere you had seen dried signs of battle.

You enjoyed every single second of the casual intimacy. The fact that there were still new ways to be so deeply close even after so many months made you incredibly giddy inside even when the situation you discovered it in was somber.

Like it had the entire time, the only thing filling the silence in the room was the splashing of the water as it hit the sides with your hand continuing to move as it scrubbed Brienne’s skin. It remained like that for a very long time until the blonde woman opened her mouth to speak for the second time since she had come home. Your hand that was scrubbing her sides halted briefly before continuing - her voice surprising you. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You couldn’t help but inquire as to why she was thanking you. What you were doing right now only seemed like the most obvious choice. You took care of each other in any way the other person needed, and you were more than happy to offer her this small service.

She was quiet for a few seconds before she spoke again – her voice low, almost like a whisper. “For this... and for giving me a reason to keep fighting. It... It didn’t look very promising for a few moments, and I was... I was harboring the idea that I would never return to you again.”

You leaned forward to press a kiss to Brienne’s forehead as you continued scrubbing her skin beneath the surface of the water. “This is the least I can do for you... you take care of and for me every day. I wanted to return the favor. Thank you for coming back to me. And you’re welcome. I’m glad to provide you with a reason to keep fighting if it’ll bring you back to me each time.”

Brienne hummed and whined slightly when you removed your lips from her skin. To have someone care for her in the way you did made her feel so gleeful and she was so grateful for you and all you did for her. “Still... Thank you.”

“Anything for my knight.” You smiled as you washed her and finished your response – already knowing the next words coming out of her mouth.

The blonde woman chuckled slightly and silently, having had this exact interaction with you many times before. By now, she knew you did it as a way of making her smile and it worked; every single time. “I’m not a knight.”

“To me you are. You’re my knight.” You saw the smile that crept up on Brienne’s lips at hearing your words, even if she had heard them many times before at this point. “Besides, if you were a man, we both know you’d be a knight by now. You have the traits of a knight, so in my eyes, you are a knight. Even if you don’t have the title.”

Brienne adjusted her head to press a kiss to the back of your hand before returning to rest her cheek on it again. “You’re too nice to me. Thank you.”

“I only treat you in the way you deserve to be treated. Not my fault you’re such an incredible person.” You said this in a way that made Brienne smile and blush – something that you did with ease many times over the two years you had known the adorable knight. It only got worse once you began your relationship because it made you able to be more frank with your compliments.

The blonde didn’t offer a response to your words – silence filling the room once again. The way Brienne spoke about the battle, it seemed to have gone bad, so much so that she thought she wouldn’t make it. You knew she would talk to you about it if she needed to and you had no reason to ask but a part of you wondered what happened that caused her to see no hope.

The rest of the bath went by in tranquility, the occasional kiss on Brienne’s forehead and the planting of lips on your hand mixed with the comforting sounds of water making the second part of the experience a very pleasant one.

After helping Brienne out of the now red-stained water and planting her before the burning fire in the other room to dry with a fur wrapped around her, you told her to stay put before running as fast as you could to her room to collect her comb, and dry and clean clothes for her.

You didn't wish to leave her but the clothes she arrived in were bloody and dirty, and you knew Brienne would appreciate the gesture.

When you returned, she sat with her legs drawn up to her chest with her arms wound around them on the fur you had put on her.

You slowly approached her and sat down next to her – her folded clothes placed on your bed, the comb resting on the pile. “Hi.”

Her skin was dry now. Her hair was still a bit damp but you knew it wouldn’t be long until it was fully dried as well.

Brienne sighed and leaned her head against your shoulder. She stared into the crackling fire – the flames dancing in her beautiful blue eyes. “...Hi.”

“How are you feeling?” You wrapped an arm around her naked form and pulled her close to you. You had missed her so much and you were not ready to let go anytime soon except to get undressed to join her in bed.

“Better now... A little tired.” Brienne hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks, and she was exhausted at this point. The adrenaline had finally worn off completely and she felt the fatigue creep up on her like she had expected it to once she was back in your safe company.

“It’s getting late... Do you want to go to sleep? I will deal with the water tomorrow.” The sun had started setting as you were washing Brienne and it had been well below the horizon for a while now. You pressed a kiss to the top of the knight’s head and awaited her answer.

“Yes, please.” Brienne sat snuggly in front of the warm hearth, but she knew that it was much nicer to be in your embrace. It was warm, cozy, and oh-so-comfortable.

“Okay... Let’s get you covered and tucked in.” You stood up and began removing the things scattered about the bed. Brienne’s discarded armor, her dirty clothes, her cape, and her sword were swept off the mattress and placed on a round table close to the hearth. Her clean clothes and comb remained on the bed, and you squatted down next to her to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to get dressed?”

Brienne leaned her head against your hand and closed her eyes. “No. I want to feel you pressed against me entirely. I don’t want clothing to restrict me from sensing all of you.”

You almost melted from her sweet words. You rubbed your thumb against her skin, the pad of it grazing against the tip of one of her scars. “Alright, my sweet Brienne.”

The knight lifted her head from your hand and you slid it down her arm – leaving it to rest on her bicep. You gently rubbed it up and down as she opened her eyes and stood up.

You swiftly removed the pile that was on the bed and placed them on the table as well. You would have to comb her hair tomorrow instead.

With the bed empty, Brienne could pull off the furs and crawl in under them – covering her bare body and providing her with warmth and comfort for the first time in weeks.

She laid on her back as she watched you undress, folding your clothes and placing them on top of your trunk.

You finally crawled into bed and cuddled up next to Brienne, her skin incredibly soft. She hummed as you slung one arm and leg over her torso, bare skin against bare skin, and rested a hand on your thigh.

Her other arm went around your shoulders and pulled you closer – your head resting on her chest.

Her rhythmic heartbeat was a consistent reminder that she was indeed alive and still with you. After two months of being apart, the whole situation felt imaginary, but her steady heartbeat let you know that it was real – that she was indeed with you. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

Brienne’s hand on your thigh rested securely and her thumb drew soft lines across your skin. She smiled at your words as she kept her eyes closed to invite slumber. “It’s beating because and for you.”

Her words caused you to pull yourself even closer to her, which was impossible to do at this point. A smile and a blush crept up on your face, she always said the most adorable things and you had no idea what you did to deserve her love, but you were so thankful for her. “You’re sweet. I love you so much.”

Brienne chuckled quietly and you could tell she was close to falling asleep by her voice. “You bring out that side in me... what can I say? I love you, too. Thank you for being here when I returned.”

“I will always be here when you return,” you whispered. You were starting to feel the weeks of worried sleep catch up to you by now and you were more than ready to finally fall asleep in her embrace once again.

The only response Brienne gave was a hum and it fell silent after that.

You heard the knight’s breathing even out after a few minutes, and it signaled that she had fallen into a slumber that you hoped was a deep and restful one. You could only imagine the conditions she has been having to sleep in, and you couldn’t see them being comfortable.

You listened to her breathing and heartbeat for a few more seconds before sleep claimed you as well. Now back with a safe Brienne, you knew that you’d sleep incredibly well. You always did with her.

When you awoke the next morning, Brienne would kiss you all over to make up for two months of being away from one another. But that was up to you in the future to find out. Until then, you were more than happy to finally be with her again, and you remained clinging to your knight all night long.

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taglist: @na-shoba, @pastanest, @the-fuck-do-i-know, @christies-fleur, @idontlikepexple, @lord6-6fandom, @sapphicmitski (can't tag you for some reason)

#gwendoline christie #brienne of tarth #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth x reader

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ro-is-struggling · 1 year

Text

For Your Eyes Only || Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: The three times you and Spencer managed to keep your relationship a secret and the one time you got caught.

Warnings: Garcia!Reader (but the reader's race/ethnicity is not specified, she could be adopted idk), mutual pining, love confessions, reader being a little insecure at one point, suggestive tones, implied smut, possible 14x01 spoilers, canon typical violence, angst with happy ending, fluff

English is not my first language

Word count: 11700 (I'm not even sorry)

Notes: This is based on a dream I had after binging the show so I’m sorry if it’s weird lol

Things between you and Spencer had always been complicated. You first met when you were young and inexperienced when you ended up crashing at your sister Penelope's place after losing your job and apartment all in the same week. She had offered to help you until you could get back on your feet, inviting you to live with her so you could save some money to move into a better apartment. And living with her also meant living with her second family, the BAU, so just a week after you moved in, Penelope organized a get-together with all her friends and co-workers so you could get to know each other.

Spencer stood out to you from the very beginning. He was shy and awkward and too young to be part of the team. You were a little intimidated by him at first. Despite his calm demeanor, he had an intense gaze that sent tingles down your spine every time his eyes fell on you. You felt a little self-conscious under his watchful eyes, feeling as if he was studying you. You knew he was not only a profiler, but also a genius with more than one college degree. There was no way you couldn't feel awkward under his gaze.

That was until he opened his mouth, rambling excitedly about some random piece of information that he seemed to know a lot about, but that no one seemed to want to hear about. No one except you. You found his enthusiasm adorable and his voice soothing. He was a fascinating person who immediately piqued your desire to get to know him better. So that's exactly what you did.

It was clear from the first moment that you shared a special spark. Within minutes of meeting you were already off in your own little bubble, chatting as if you had known each other all your lives. Spencer had never felt so comfortable with a complete stranger before, although he supposed it made sense given that you were Penelope's sister. The apple doesn't fall that far from the tree and all. You became friends in record time and fell in love even faster. But, as mentioned before, you were both too young and inexperienced to do anything about it. You didn't quite know how to deal with the feelings you were experiencing, so you did nothing.

You were always afraid that things wouldn't work out well between you, that somehow Spencer would get bored of you and leave you. You didn't want things to be awkward for your sister, you knew that if you two broke up she would feel the need to choose sides and you couldn't let her get into a fight with her friend and coworker because of you. And Spencer... Well, he had almost no experience in love or dating. It had taken him longer than he wanted to admit to even understand his feelings for you and once he did he didn't know what to do about it, so he did nothing. And when you finally went out to live your life on your own, he watched you walk away, burying his love for you in a box with a thousand locks, hidden deep in his heart so he could forget you. But he never forgot you and you never forgot him.

Timing was never right with you. You were perfect for each other, but there was always something that got in the way, as if fate itself didn't want to see you together. Even though your feelings for Spencer never died, you had given up hope that anything would ever happen between you. Apparently it wasn't in the cards for you to be together and you accepted it, settling for living with the what-ifs as your only consolation. At least that was until a new opportunity presented itself in front of you at Penelope's 41st birthday party. An opportunity you were not willing to pass up.

You were once again crashing on your sister's couch that year, only this time it was until you found an apartment in the city near her. Penelope's job was risky and in the last few years she had been targeted by psychopathic killers on several occasions. You hated the idea of her living alone and since you were now in a financial position to choose where to live, you decided to move close to her so that you could come to her aid in case of an emergency. You had to admit that your timing wasn't great since she was in the middle of planning her birthday party, so you postponed your apartment search until after the event, concentrating all your energy on helping her first. Luckily David Rossi offered to host the celebration at his mansion so you didn't have to make any more mess inside Penelope's apartment which was already a mess because of you. And planning such an event was always much easier when it wasn't your house that was going to be turned upside down.

Spencer was in his mandatory retirement when you arrived, concentrating on his new found love of teaching. For that reason, Penelope hadn't had a chance to talk much with the boy wonder so when he showed up at Rossi's house for the celebration and saw you there he was greatly surprised.

You were laughing with Penelope and Emily and didn't notice his presence until you heard JJ call his name. When you looked up your eyes met his, those beautiful hazel eyes that you still saw in your dreams. It felt as if time stood still for a moment, the world around you disappearing as you became lost in each other's gaze. Memories of moments shared with Spencer came back to your mind in flashes, once again awakening those feelings you thought you had buried deep in your heart.

Spencer looked different, that was the first thing you noticed. He had changed, not only physically but also emotionally. He looked more serious than you remembered and seemed to have matured quite a bit. You didn't expect anything different knowing everything he had been through lately, the change was only natural. However, when he smiled you recognized the Spencer you loved so much. His essence was still there, a part of his innocence and charm still shone in his eyes. That made you smile, you were glad to know that despite everything he was okay.

Penelope was the one who snapped you out of your trance, giving you a subtle nudge in the ribs to bring you back to reality. She knew about your feelings for Spencer, you had never told her, but you didn't need to for her to figure it out. You guys were actually pretty bad at hiding your feelings, which is why she couldn't believe how you still weren't dating. God knows she hadn't stopped trying to push you in the right direction at every opportunity —Penelope loved to play cupid—, but so far nothing had ever worked.

Even though your sister successfully brought you back to reality, you were not able to give Spencer even a few words of welcome. You were still too overwhelmed by his presence, so you preferred to play it safe until you found the right words to express yourself. In the end you didn't get a chance to have a proper talk until late in the evening once everyone present began to show signs that they had had a few too many drinks. You went out into the garden to get some fresh air, getting away from the laughter for a moment to clear your head. Spencer followed you out and before you knew it you were engaged in a casual chat, catching up on things with a level of comfort that was unbelievable considering the level of tension that could be felt in the air when you were together.

It was always easy to be around Spencer. Despite all the pent up feelings between you, you were able to maintain a good friendship. You didn't see each other very often, but whenever you met again it was as if you had never been apart in the first place. That's how strong your connection was.

"I missed this," you admitted after a few seconds of silence, your gaze fixed on the horizon, lost in thought. "I missed our talks."

"Me too," Spencer nodded, admiring your profile as if he were trying to memorize every little detail of your face. "I missed you." His voice sounded more muffled that time, heavy with the sadness accumulated after years of your absence. The mood in the air changed completely from casual and funny to sad and serious, letting you know that the time for explanations and excuses had come.

"Why did you leave?" It broke your heart to hear the way his voice cracked as he spoke. You knew about his fear of change and his abandonment issues, he had opened up to you about it a long time ago. You left to take that job three states away knowing full well how much your leaving was going to affect him and now you were regretting it. It wasn't as if it hadn't hurt you too, but at the time you thought walking away was the best option for both of you.

"I..." You didn't know what to answer. You had a long list of made up excuses you'd thought of over the years, but when you looked up to face him you didn't have the heart to lie to him. Spencer wasn't stupid, he could tell when you were lying, so what was the point? He deserved to know the truth. You deserved the truth. "I got scared and I ran away, just like I always do." You muttered, ashamed of your past actions.

"Scared of what?" Spencer frowned at you, confused by your words. You didn't respond verbally, you just looked at him and that was enough for him to understand what you meant. He could see it in your eyes, the fear, the insecurity. He couldn't believe how he hadn't noticed it before. Suddenly it all seemed so obvious to him that he wanted to yell at his past self for not doing something sooner.

"What we had... I-I never felt anything like that before and it scared me." You finally confessed after so long, keeping your eyes on the floor since you couldn't bring yourself to look Spencer in the face. It felt good to finally tell the truth, even though you felt a little exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. But it was worth it if it would finally bring closure to your story.

"I wish you would have told me." This time it was your turn to look at him with confusion. "I liked you too."

You froze in place, Spencer's voice echoing in your head as you tried to process the situation.

He loved you too.

All this time you had spent wondering how things would have been if you hadn't been such a coward when you actually could have found out if you had just opened your mouth at the right time. Spencer loved you too and you had done nothing but waste time.

But then the cynical voice in your head asked the question you were so afraid of. Why did he love you? There was definitely nothing extraordinary about you, you were the most common and boring person that existed on the planet and he... he was the perfect man. He was sweet and sensitive, effortlessly beautiful and as if that wasn't enough he was also a literal genius. You couldn't understand how someone like Spencer could find someone like you interesting or worthy of his love. Being friends was one thing, but being a couple was a world apart. You were convinced that you were not compatible, despite all the love you had for each other. There was no way a genius like Spencer wasn't going to get bored of you in a matter of weeks. It just didn't make sense.

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could react to this new revelation, you were interrupted by your sister's voice announcing that they were about to cut the cake. You didn't even get a chance to look at Spencer before Penelope dragged you back inside, too tipsy to realize she was interrupting a very important moment.

You had to put on a smile as everyone sang happy birthday to Penelope, feigning happiness when you felt anything but that. Confusion was the predominant emotion, but you also felt regret and a crushing emptiness in your chest that made it hard to breathe. You wanted to be there for your sister, but your mind couldn't stop replaying Spencer's words, having trouble processing the situation.

You couldn't believe that all this time he had reciprocated your feelings. All the time you had spent mourning for what couldn't be, all the tears you had shed for him, it had all been wasted. You felt like a fool, though you couldn't deny that sabotaging your own happiness out of fear or insecurities was something you did more than you'd like to admit. It was hardwired into your brain, an automatic response that you could almost never stop. And now it was once again too late to do anything about it.

Spencer looked happy as he laughed with his friends, unaffected by the revelations that had just come up in your talk minutes before. It confused you a little, wondering how he was able to go on as if nothing had happened after hearing your confession. But then you noticed a detail that tightened the lump that had formed in your throat.

'I liked you too.'

He had spoken in the past tense. He loved you, implying that he no longer did. Spencer had moved on from his feelings for you, putting an end to your story. And the worst part was that you had no one to blame but yourself. You were the one who had pushed him away, the one who had run away from your feelings instead of facing them and now you were paying the price.

Your mind was lost in horrible thoughts, imagining how many women had occupied that special place in his heart since you left. That special place you so longed to occupy, that place that should have been yours... that was yours without you knowing it. You wondered who had dethroned you, who had been able to erase you from his heart to take that place.

Imagining Spencer in the arms of another woman made you feel sick. You knew he could date anyone he wanted —you'd had your fair share of failed relationships yourself over the years—, but for some reason this was the first time it felt real. You hated to think that another woman had come to occupy that special space in his heart, that she knew what it felt like to kiss him or wake up next to him. The thought of Spencer feeling safe and at home in the arms of someone who wasn't you crushed you. You knew you had no right to feel that way, but you couldn't help but feel jealous that someone else had the chance to experience what you fantasized about every night before bed.

Suddenly the room began to feel small, the walls closing in on you as the laughter around you grew louder and louder. You needed to get out of there, to get away from all the noise so you could calm your mind overwhelmed by the swirl of emotions that weighed you down. So you took advantage of Penelope complaining about the lack of ice to escape from there, jumping up from your seat as you offered to get more.

The kitchen sheltered you from the noise of the party, giving you the peace and quiet you needed to try to work out your problems. You took a moment to take a deep breath, repeating to yourself over and over that everything was fine. It was a big lie, but you were more than willing to fake it til you made it. You poured yourself a glass of water and drank it in one gulp, hoping it would help loosen the lump in your throat.

'Keep it together, this is Penelope's night!' the voice of reason echoed in your head, trying hard to keep your emotions in check. You knew she was right, even though you were pretty sure your sister was too drunk at this point to notice the change in your mood, that didn't mean you had a free pass to ruin the party. You had to find a way to put aside what you were feeling for her.

"Is everything alright?" Spencer's voice startled you and you almost dropped the glass you were holding. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. It's just thought that you were taking too long and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh yeah, sorry. I needed a moment away from all the noise." You forced a smile in an attempt to let him know you were okay, but the smile didn't reflect in your eyes. You could barely hold eye contact with him as you spoke, which made him think you were hiding something from him.

"I guess they are pretty loud, huh." He walked over to you, leaning back against the edge of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You tensed as you felt his closeness, feeling the warmth of his body against your side as the scent of his cologne assaulted your nostrils. It was as if he was doing it on purpose, as if he knew the effect he had on you and was using it to torture you. But when you looked up at him you were met with his usual innocent expression, with big eyes looking at you curiously as if he was studying you.

"Yeah and it's been a while since I've been around them, I have to get used to the chaos again." You lied, lowering your gaze. You could no longer stand the intensity of his hazel orbs staring at you as if he could read your thoughts. You knew that was impossible, but what he could certainly do —and very well— was read your behavior. You were sure you were being very obvious and it was only a matter of time before he realized what was really going on with you.

"What's on your mind?" Spencer spoke in a soft tone, breaking the silence that had formed in the room. You bit your tongue, debating whether you should answer his question honestly or not. You wanted to lie, but you knew it was pointless. He would know you were lying, if he didn't already.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about us... about how strange life can be sometimes." You let out a bitter laugh, thinking about how different things might be if only you had done just one thing differently years ago. "D-do you think things between us would have worked?" Your voice was small and unsure, looking up at him hesitantly. You weren't sure if you were ready to hear his answer, but you couldn't contain your curiosity.

Spencer looked at you, studying your face for what felt like an eternity. You felt small under his gaze, but you maintained eye contact this time. You needed to know the truth, to read in his eyes the sincerity of his words. Only then would your brain know peace.

"I don't know," he finally murmured. "I guess we'll never know."

Spencer's eyes did not leave yours, nor did yours leave his. You felt him moving closer to you, the warmth of his body enveloping you as he tilted his face toward you. You copied his actions without even realizing it, desperate to feel closer to him. It was as if you were in a trance, lost in the beautiful hazel color of his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess we won't," you said absently, letting the scent of Spencer's cologne flood your system and wash away what little reason you had left. Your eyes traveled to his lips, reflecting the thoughts that occupied your mind. There was nothing you wanted more at that moment than to close the distance that separated you and join your lips in a kiss. You were desperate to know what it would feel like to kiss him, you had been dreaming about it for years. But you knew it wasn't appropriate, so you used your last bit of strength to hold back.

When you looked back into Spencer's eyes you noticed that something had changed in them. He was looking at you in a different way, with a sparkle you had never noticed in his eyes before. It was... desire. He wanted you as much as you wanted him. He wanted to kiss you too, but he was holding back just like you. You were once again dancing around each other, hiding what you truly felt, waiting for the other to make the first move. You were tired of it and you weren't going to make the same mistake again.

So you leaned into Spencer, letting him know that you wanted this as much as he did. Time seemed to slow down, making you feel like you were moving in slow motion as you drew closer to shorten the small distance that separated you. The tension in the air was strong, almost unbearable, as you lost yourself in Spencer's eyes, anxiously waiting to feel his lips on yours.

Your heart raced as you felt his warm breath mingling with yours, the tips of your noses brushing and awakening a wave of electricity that coursed through your entire body. You shared one last glance before letting yourself be carried away by the moment, joining your lips in a long awaited kiss.

It was shy and experimental, a simple brush of lips that did nothing more than leave you wanting more. Spencer caught your upper lip between his, caressing it with a tenderness that made your knees weak. It wasn't a full kiss, but it was still better than all your fantasies because this one was real.

You broke apart almost immediately, opening your eyes once again to study each other's expression. Neither of you needed to speak to know what the other was thinking, it was enough to see the glint of happiness shining in your eyes to confirm that you both felt the same. So without wasting another second you brought your lips together once again, only this time in a more confident and passionate kiss.

You let his lips guide yours, allowing yourself to get lost in the euphoria of the moment. Spencer's hand cupped your cheek, holding your face against his gently to deepen the kiss. His fingertips sparked a warm tingle on your skin and you leaned into his touch, clinging to his lips as you tried to keep up with him. Your lips closed over his lower lip, your tongue caressing it gently asking his permission. He granted it and you didn't waste a second exploring his mouth. He tasted like cake, the sweet blend of chocolate and cream still present on his tongue.

You didn't want the moment to end. You didn't want to separate yourself from Spencer's lips ever again. You had fantasized about this moment for so long and wanted it to last forever, but unfortunately for you that wasn't possible. You were in the middle of a party and it was already taking too long to get back to the others. If you didn't pull apart now someone was going to find you like this and you didn't want to face the awkward moment, so you reluctantly broke away from Spencer.

"That was..." he trailed off as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Late." You finished the sentence for him, letting out a chuckle. That kiss was long overdue and you couldn't believe it had taken you so long to get to this moment. "We should get back to the party." You said, making no effort to pull away from him. You were still so close to each other that your noses brushed and your breaths mingled in the air. And that's how you wanted to stay for the rest of the night, even though you knew you couldn't.

"Yes, we should." Spencer nodded, but instead of pulling away from you, he shortened the small distance that separated you even more, bringing your lips together in a quick kiss. You reciprocated immediately, allowing yourself to get lost in him once again.

"I mean it!" You exclaimed, parting from his lips for a second before being drawn into them once more.

"Me too!" Spencer murmured against your mouth, making you giggle into the kiss.

You allowed him to distract you with his kisses for a little while longer, taking advantage of the privacy the kitchen provided to explore a little more of whatever it was that you two had. That room was your little refuge, your little bubble in which there was only you and the tension in the air that had followed you all these years. It was your safe place, one where you didn't have to explain what you felt in front of anyone. You only had to look into each other's eyes to understand what you were feeling. Going through the kitchen doors meant facing the real world and that only made everything more complicated.

"I don't want to stop." You confessed finally, leaning your forehead against Spencer's as you looked into his eyes.

"Me neither."

"Maybe... maybe we should try this out, see where it takes us." You didn't know why you were nervous to speak, you could see in Spencer's eyes that he wanted the same thing you did. You supposed it was because you weren't used to expressing your feelings in clear, concrete words. You hated feeling vulnerable even though you knew you were safe with Spencer. "I want to give us a chance, if you want that too, of course."

"I do! That's all I ever wanted." Spencer gave you one of his big, adorable smiles of his, the kind that made his eyes crinkle and radiated nothing but happiness and positive vibes. It warmed your heart every time he smiled at you like that, genuine joy written all over your face. It was hard not to return the gesture, his smile was so contagious.

You shared one more kiss, the perfect seal of your deal. Even though you were running out of time, you took a moment to enjoy it, trying to memorize every detail, every sensation, for the future. Spencer took your face in his hands, pulling you closer to him and tilting your head so he could deepen the kiss, making the most of every second you had together.

It left you completely breathless and a little stupid to be honest. So much so that you almost forgot you had gone there to get ice in the first place. He had to remind you before you left the kitchen empty handed, feeling secretly proud of his skills.

"Wait!" you called out to him before Spencer disappeared behind the kitchen door. He turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow, wondering if there was something he had forgotten.

"What is it?"

"We should keep this between us, for now at least."

"Oh." He mumbled and didn't need to say anything else for you to realize he was disappointed.

"It's not that I don't want to tell people," you rushed to say, taking a few steps towards him. "It's just that... you know how annoying Penelope can get with stuff like this. I want to explore our relationship without having her asking me about it all the time." You tried to explain, hoping he understood where you were coming from.

There was nothing you wanted more than to go out there and shout how happy you were about all this, but your sister couldn't find out about anything yet. She had bugged you to go out with Spencer from the very beginning so you could only imagine how annoying she was going to be when she found out her wishes had been granted. You knew she meant well, but she could get a little intense at times and you'd rather have the freedom to explore your relationship with Spencer without feeling pressure from your sister every second. Besides, if things between you two didn't work out the way you hoped, you didn't want things between her and Spencer to get weird at work. You needed time to process your feelings so you'd be ready to deal with the intensity of your sister's love when she learns the truth.

"I promise it won't be for long, just until we make sure we... work together, you know."

Luckily for you Spencer was not angry with you. On the contrary, he agreed with you when you brought up Penelope's attitude to these issues. He wasn't one to share much about his private life anyway, so he didn't find anything unusual about keeping your relationship a secret for a while. He liked the idea of having you all to himself behind everyone else's back. It was as if you had your own separate world, your own little piece of paradise on earth. And that was exactly what he needed at this point in his life, a haven where he felt safe at all times.

So you shared one last kiss before emerging from your little bubble to face the real world, struggling to hide your happiness from a room full of profilers. It was not an easy task, but for that night you had alcohol on your side to help you.

Spencer knew from the beginning that keeping his relationship with you hidden from the team was going to be difficult. They were not only excellent profilers, but also his best friends and knew him too well to notice when he was hiding something. He liked to think that he was relatively good at lying since it was a tool he used from time to time in his work. However, lying to a suspect or an unsub was not the same as lying to his friends. He expected suspicion and curious looks from his teammates at some point in the near future, though he had to admit he was surprised at how quickly JJ seemed to realize something was up.

It was late at night and the team was stuck in the office finishing up paperwork. Spencer couldn't wait to get out of there to be with you. Tonight was date night and even though you didn't have anything too fancy planned —just dinner at Spencer's apartment, you had learned the hard way that it was best to play it safe with his crazy work schedule—, but still, he couldn't stop counting down the minutes until he could see you. Things between you were going great and he felt on cloud nine every time you kissed him or held his hand. He couldn't believe that after so long of dancing around each other things had worked out and now he wanted to spend every spare second of his day by your side to make up for lost time.

As soon as Emily allowed them to go home, Spencer was quick to pack up his belongings. He wanted to be the first one through the glass doors, to disappear before any of his colleagues could delay him any further. However, he wasn't quick enough since JJ managed to intercept him before he reached the elevator.

"I've been meaning to ask.... Is everything alright with you?" she asked him, lowering her voice so the few agents passing by wouldn't hear them.

"Yes." Spencer hesitated to answer, sounding more like a question than a statement. "Why would there be anything wrong?"

"I don't know, you tell me." JJ folded her arms, waiting for an answer. When she got nothing more than a confused look from Spencer, she added, "You've been acting weird lately, like you're hiding something. You got a new phone! And you're always the first to walk out the door." JJ sounded genuinely worried about him and Spencer immediately felt bad about having to lie to her. Although he knew she would understand.

"Whatever it is that's going on you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Nothing is going on, I'm fine!" He tried to convince her friend, speaking in a calm and slow voice in an attempt to reassure her.

"Spence, do I have to worry?" JJ insisted, remembering what had happened the last time he had kept something from her.

Spencer could read the genuine concern in her expression and hear it in her voice as she spoke, so he tried his best to give her an answer that made sense but at the same time didn't give away his little secret. "There's nothing to worry about." He affirmed, giving her friend a warm smile. He appreciated that she cared so much about him, but this time it wasn't necessary. "I got the new phone so I could stay in contact with my students when I'm teaching. Apparently accessibility is a big part of the teacher/student relationship now days and I need to pay more attention to my emails."

That wasn't a lie in its entirety. The truth was that he had bought a newer phone so he could keep in touch with you. He didn't want to at first, but you managed to convince him that more modern technology would make it easier to keep your long distance relationship afloat when he traveled away for work, but it would also help you keep things hidden. Spencer knew that if you wanted your relationship to move forward you had to spend time together as a couple to actually know if you worked well together. And after having to cancel your first date three times because of a case, Spencer decided that maybe it was a good time to upgrade a little. The benefit of being able to communicate better with his students when he taught was an added bonus that had played almost no part in his decision.

JJ looked at him with narrowed eyes, trying to search his expression for something to tell her if he was lying to her. She still felt he was hiding something, but when he smiled at her she saw pure happiness in his eyes. Then she realized that maybe there was a good reason behind his secrecy. "So I don't have to worry then?" Spencer shook his head and she smiled. "Good."

They walked together to the elevator, changing the topic of the conversation to something more trivial as the metal box transported them to the exit. As they parted ways, Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket and hurried to let you know he was running late, but he was on his way. You responded with a picture of his apartment door, letting him know that you had arrived at his place. He then gave you permission to use the emergency key under the welcome mat so you wouldn't have to wait for him in the hallway. After all, it wasn't the first time you went to his apartment and it definitely wouldn't be the last.

Opening his front door and finding you there with the takeout food ready to eat gave him a sense of joy he hadn't experienced before. The worries of his job, the gruesome crime scene photos and the wicked look of the unsub they had caught, all vanished from his system the moment you greeted him with a smile, telling him how much you had missed him. You were in your own little world when you got together, one that had no room for the stresses of work or everyday life. There was only peace, happiness and love. Suddenly the outside world ceased to exist, it was just him and you exploring the feelings you had hidden for so long. It was incredibly liberating in a way and made it all worthwhile. He could get used to that feeling.

Spencer wasn't the only one who had trouble keeping your secret hidden. You might not work with excellent profilers, but you lived with Penelope Garcia herself, which was almost the same thing. You thought that maybe the fact that your sister had such a demanding job or that Spencer traveled from state to state on a regular basis would play in your favor —you had no big plans to hide from anyone and Penelope was hardly ever home to pick up on anything anyway—, but you were wrong. Penelope didn't need more than a quick glance in your direction to raise an eyebrow accusingly.

"You're seeing things." You tried to defend yourself when she confronted you about it. "I think you need to take some time off, the stress is getting to you."

"Oh no, you can't lie to me. There's something going on with you, I can sense it." She insisted, chasing you into the living room and standing in front of the TV so you couldn't avoid her gaze.

"You can sense it?" you repeated in fake disbelief. You were sure she could, she knew you too well not to realize you were hiding something from her.

"Yes! You're glowing, you have this, this... happiness aura you didn't have before. What's going on?"

You rolled your eyes, though you had to bite your tongue to keep from smiling. You did feel like you were glowing and, although it was inconvenient, it was nice to know that others could notice it too. It was the happiest you had been in a long time and it was all thanks to Spencer's company.

"Nothing is going on, Penelope." You tried to convince her. "I promise."

She looked at you for a moment, squinting her eyes as if deciding whether it was a good idea to believe you or not. Finally she said, "You would tell me if there was something going on with you, right? You wouldn't keep it from me, would you?"

"Of course not! I promise you that when something good happens to me, you'll be the first to know." You felt terrible as soon as the words came out of your mouth. You didn't like lying to your sister, but it was for the best. Your relationship with Spencer was too new to be announced to others, you wanted to be able to enjoy a little more of the privacy and intimacy you were able to have by keeping everything a secret. Penelope would learn the truth eventually, but for now you wanted to keep things as they were. You were sure she would understand.

Penelope didn't say anything, she just sat down next to you and turned up the volume on the TV to watch whatever you had on together with you. You thought you were in the clear, that you had effectively eased her curiosity with your promise, but then your phone vibrated. The screen lit up with a new notification, drawing two pairs of eyes to the device resting on the coffee table. You reached out to grab it, immediately recognizing the contact who was texting you, but Penelope was quicker.

"Who is... 'S plus heart emoji' and why are they asking you if you can go over to their place?" She looked at you with an accusatory raised eyebrow and you almost let out a growl of frustration. How could she be so lucky? You and Spencer hardly ever texted, you always talked on the phone, and the one time he texted you she was there to read it. Fate hated you.

"That's... Sophie, my friend from work." You lied, hoping you sounded convincing enough so Penelope wouldn't ask too many questions. "She's going through a tough break up and I'm helping her whenever I can. Her ex boyfriend is an ass and I told her that whenever she felt bad and had the urge to talk to him she should call me instead."

Penelope couldn't argue much against that, leaving you alone the moment you mentioned broken hearts. Once again you felt guilty about lying to her, but all your worries disappeared when you set foot in Spencer's apartment. The smell of wood and old books hit you as soon as he opened the door, making you feel at home. It wasn't the first time you were there, since you were still living with Penelope most of your secret meetings had to be at his home to avoid being discovered. You were already more than familiar with the place and the beautiful scent that you could identify as the very essence of Spencer. It was your favorite smell in the world since it reminded you of him.

"I don't think she's onto us, but she definitely knows something’s up." You told Spencer as you snuggled on his couch. You didn't have any plans in mind, you just wanted to feel each other's warmth close by, taking advantage of Spencer's day off to relax together like a real couple. You had your head resting on his chest, listening to the soft beating of his heart as he wrapped his arms around you, his nose hidden in your hair, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo. It was his favorite scent in the world, associated with happiness and love since he recognized it as your very essence.

"Would that be so bad?" he blurted out without thinking before speaking, letting his heart take over his lips. "Getting caught, I mean. Would it be so bad if the others knew about us?" It was a question that had been bouncing around in his head for a while now. When you had sat down to talk through the implications of your arrangement, you decided it was best to keep things under wraps until you found out if you worked as well as a couple as you did as friends. The point was to keep things from getting weird with the rest of the team —especially Penelope— if things between you two didn't work out. Spencer thought it was a good idea and agreed to wait to announce your relationship to the others. But now that some time had passed since that day, he couldn't help but wonder how much longer you'd keep hiding it.

It wasn't that he didn't like it, he loved your secret dates and sneaky texts. Your relationship had become a kind of refuge, a sanctuary where he could go to escape the outside world. Yet he couldn't help but wonder if maybe the reason you wanted to keep things secret was that you weren't sure how you felt about him. Spencer was ready to let the world know he loved you and thought you felt the same way, but lately he wasn't so sure.

"I mean, w-we were supposed to do this until we figured out if we worked as a couple, right? I-I d-don't know about you, but I think this works, right?" Spencer added, stumbling over his words because of nerves. He didn't want to sound like he was pressuring you, far from it, he was willing to wait as long as he had to for you, but he needed some kind of confirmation that you felt the same way he did in order to ease his anxious mind. "I'm not trying to pressure you or anything, we don't have to tell people if you're not ready... I just-"

"Spence," you interrupted his ramblings, lifting your head from his chest so you could look him in the eye. He looked terrified in the most adorable way possible, looking at you with wide eyes as he waited for a response. "It works." You stated with a smile and felt him relax beneath you. "We work great together. That's not why I want to keep us a secret anymore."

"Then what is it?" You let out a sigh as you tried to find the right words to express what you felt. It wasn't that you didn't want to tell the world how happy you were with Spencer by your side, god knew that keeping your mouth shut was a challenge that was getting harder every day. But you knew that the moment you did, you would lose the special kind of intimacy you had now that no one knew about you. You knew that the moment you made your relationship public you would have Penelope bugging you with her questions, wanting to know every detail after pushing you to date him since day one. And you knew the other members of the group wouldn't be far behind. You and Spencer were like the babies in the family that was the BAU so it was inevitable to have them hovering over your shoulders looking over your shoulder with every step you took.

"I just... I know the second we tell people they're gonna be all over our business and I hate that. I love what we have and after all the time it took us to get here, I just want to enjoy this a little more, have you all to myself." Your answer seemed to be enough to erase the doubt in Spencer's eyes. He smiled at you in relief and you reached up to kiss him.

The lingering doubts in his mind vanished as he felt the way your lips moved over his, your tongue caressing him in that slow, sensual way that drove him crazy. He let your kisses soothe him, losing himself in you and in the warm sensation that your closeness always aroused inside him. You worked your magic on him, replacing every negative thought in his mind with love and comfort just with the touch of your lips on his. It was amazing how quickly you could invade his mind, making him forget the world around him in a matter of seconds. It was an ability that only you possessed and it showed how madly in love with you he really was.

“Besides, you can't deny that keeping it a secret makes things more... interesting.” You whispered against his lips as you pulled away in need of air. There was a mischievous sparkle in your eyes that revealed exactly where your mind was going and he couldn't help but blush. Flashes of the nights you had shared together appeared in his mind, the sound of your agitated voice pronouncing his name like a mantra as you came undone under his touch replaying in his ears.

"Those late night calls while your colleagues are only a few feet away, sleeping on the jet or separated only by the thin walls of a motel room." You teased him, your voice low and sultry as you settled into his lap. The atmosphere in the room changed quickly, the tension heavy in the air as you playfully teased Spencer, scattering kisses up and down his neck. You could feel him tensing beneath you, his hands flying to your hips, clinging to your skin in warning.

"Those pictures that I sent you while you were still at work," you purred in his ear, grinding your hips against his. Spencer closed his eyes, letting out a long gasp as he remembered the episode you referred to. Nothing could have prepared him for those messages, seeing you lying on your sheets wearing only one of his unbuttoned shirts and a red lace bra was too much for his poor heart. He had been lucky that his colleagues were distracted, otherwise he would not have been able to hide the clear reaction of surprise and desire that your messages had awakened in him.

"I thought we were just going to hang out today." Spencer said, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. He tightened his grip on your waist, guiding your slow movements and pressing you against his growing erection.

"I got bored." You pouted. "I wanna play."

Spencer couldn't resist your charms even if he wanted to.

You didn't realize that agreeing to go to a bar with the BAU team was a mistake until it was too late. When Penelope invited you, you thought it would be a good idea to get out of the house for a while and it would give you a good excuse to be close to Spencer. You were prepared for the tension and having to hold the urge to kiss him in front of everyone, at this point it was part of your routine. What you weren't prepared for was how many women seemed to find your boyfriend attractive.

You couldn't blame them though, Spencer looked especially sexy in that black suit with his hair slightly messed up. The knot of his tie was loose and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing the skin of his forearm. Your eyes got lost following the path of his veins, remembering the way they stood out more clearly every time his hand closed around your neck or your hips when you were alone in his room. It was honestly torture to have him in front of you looking so sensual and not being able to do anything about it. Even worse was having to watch every woman in the bar try her luck with him, coming up to flirt whenever he was alone. And there was nothing you could do about it, not without revealing your little secret at least.

"You should have listened to me, little one." Your sister's cheerful voice startled you. You looked away from the woman chatting with Spencer at the bar to turn your gaze to Penelope, who was looking at you with a smile that said I told you so.

"Huh?"

"If you had listened to me when I told you to go for it, you wouldn't have that look on your face right now."

"What look?" You played dumb, taking a long sip of your drink. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were staring at boy wonder talking with that woman over there." Penelope rolled her eyes, tired of hearing you deny your feelings for Spencer. It had been clear to her from day one that you were right for each other and she couldn't understand how you still weren't together.

"I was not!"

"Are you kidding me? If looks could kill, that poor woman would be on the floor right now."

"Very funny, Penny, but I wasn't looking at them." You tried to lie, avoiding looking your sister in the eyes for fear she might read the truth in your gaze. Keeping your relationship with Spencer a secret was one thing, but hiding your jealousy was something you apparently couldn't do.

"If it makes you feel any better he doesn't seem that interested in her." Penelope continued speaking, completely ignoring your previous comment. "You should go talk to him, I'm sure he'd rather be with you anyway."

"No. You know what I'm gonna do?" Penelope shook her head, watching you drink what was left in your glass in one sip before rising from your seat next to her. "I'm gonna buy another round."

You walked away from the table before your sister could protest, heading to the bar to get more alcohol. You were going to need a lot more to be able to handle this whole situation, otherwise jealousy was going to eat you up inside. You bumped into Spencer on purpose as you walked past him, successfully getting his attention.

"Careful with those, the rest of the team is pretty drunk and I'm going to need your help to make sure they get home safely." Spencer said, appearing at your side only a couple of minutes later.

"I can handle my liquor, I'll be fine." You sounded colder than you intended, mistakenly taking your jealousy out on him. Spencer noticed something was wrong with you right away, frowning at your sudden moodiness.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes!" you lied to him, answering without even looking at him. But you immediately regretted it, realizing that it was stupid to lie when you were doing such a bad job of hiding your jealousy. "No, it's not! That woman was flirting with you."

"No she wasn't!" Spencer said and you looked at him with narrowed eyes, deciding if he was serious or if he was playing you for a fool. It didn't take you long to figure out that the confusion in his expression was genuine and then you couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh.

“You can’t possibly be that naive! Half the women in here have been eye fucking you since we arrived.”

“So what? I don’t care about any of them.” The casual tone in which he spoke was almost as annoying as the women in that bar. You knew he was right, you didn't doubt his feelings for you, but you still hated having to watch all those strangers approach him thinking they had a chance. Spencer was yours and you were desperate to let them know, but you couldn't and it was driving you crazy.

"It's annoying, that's what!" you complained, crossing your arms and pouting. "I can't even hold your hand to let them all know you're mine." Spencer's hand traveled to your cheek, taking advantage of the fact that you were far enough away from the rest of the team to be seen. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the warmth of his skin against yours. You missed him and honestly didn't know how much longer you could stand it in this place without being able to touch him or have him near you.

"But that's part of the fun, isn't it?" He echoed the point you had made when he had come to you with a similar concern. You suddenly felt the urge to hit him, and you would have if it weren't for that adorable smile on his face. You couldn't stay mad at him when he looked at you with that face.

"You're lucky you're cute." You warned him, pointing an accusatory finger at him and making him laugh.

"C'mon, I'll stay with you the whole night if that makes you feel better." Spencer promised you, helping you carry the drinks to the table with the rest of your friends.

He kept his word, sitting next to you and not moving from his spot, but that didn't make you feel any better. You could still feel the curious glances of the women around him, wondering if he was single, hoping to get a chance to talk to him. You hated it and the alcohol in your veins wasn't making it any easier. You weren't necessarily drunk, but you did feel a little more liberated and uninhibited. You were a little tipsy and something you did a lot when you were in that state was touching and hugging anyone who was unlucky enough to be next to you. That combined with the jealousy that overwhelmed you was a recipe for disaster.

You started with simple, inconspicuous things, taking Spencer's hand under the table and bringing your leg up on top of his. No one could see you, but it gave you a sense of closeness that calmed your anxious mind. But as the night progressed those hidden caresses turned out to be more and more about satisfying your need for him.

You needed to feel his warmth embracing your body, his lips on yours as he showed you how much he loved you. But, since you knew that wasn't possible —at least not until you left that place—, you settled for resting your head on his shoulder as you chatted, snuggling against him as if you were the only people there, too distracted by the ridiculous way your drunken friends danced on the dance floor. It was as if you were in your own bubble, enjoying your night together as a couple without anyone knowing. It was nice to share that complicity, to look into each other's eyes and understand each other without having to use words.

"Are you feeling better?" Spencer asked you, taking his eyes off the dance floor to look at you. You smiled and nodded, feeling your heart fill with love as you lost yourself in the changing color of his eyes. You had to try hard to contain the urge to kiss him that came over you at that moment. And you were lucky you did because otherwise Emily, who appeared out of nowhere, would have discovered you.

"Hey guys, have you seen my phon...?" Her voice trailed off when she saw the pose you were in, her eyes immediately noticing your hands clasped together on the table. You pulled away from Spencer as quickly as you could, but you still weren't able to stop a smile from forming on Prentiss' lips - though you were grateful that she had tried to contain it.

"Nevermind, carry on." She said, disappearing as quickly as she had appeared in the first place. You let out a growl of frustration, hiding your face in your hands as you promised yourself that you were never going to drink again.

Your heart dropped when you heard Emily's voice on the other end of the line telling you that Penelope and Spencer had been kidnapped. You hadn't even cut the call and you were already running out of your apartment, rushing to your car and on your way to the FBI headquarters where two of the most important people in your life worked. Your brain was on autopilot, reduced to controlling your movement and basic life functions. Your mind was blank, too shocked and scared to even try to process what was happening. You knew that the moment you started thinking about what might be happening to your sister and the love of your life was the moment you would lose your sanity, so you tried your best to keep your mind free of all thoughts. You had to stay strong for them, concentrate all your energy on your desire to see them safe and sound again and maybe the universe would listen.

You lost all sense of time as you paced around the office where Emily had allowed you to wait while they worked, promising to get back to you as soon as they made any progress on the case. You felt like a caged lion, pacing back and forth while muttering to yourself that everything was going to be okay. Both Penelope and Spencer had had this job for so many years, that had to count for something, right? If anyone had the tools to survive a situation like that it was them.

You felt like you were going crazy locked in that dark office. But then the door opened, revealing a very shocked, but safe and sound Penelope. You ran into your sister's arms, letting tears roll down your cheeks as you clung to her, relieved to feel her sweet embrace once again. You went back to your childhood for a moment, remembering the one time you had shared a hug like that in the past. You had just learned of the fatal fate your parents had met and through tears and sobs you clung to your sister. You cried together for what felt like an eternity, and in that embrace you vowed to always be there for each other. Just as you were doing at that very moment.

“He told me to run, so I did… I left him there, how could I have left him there?” Penelope sobbed into your shoulder, feeling responsible for Spencer's future. Through tears, she managed to tell you how she had managed to escape thanks to him, how she had had a small window of time to run and how she had had to ignore the sounds of the commotion Spencer had created in order to escape —even the sound of gunshots. You'd be lying if you said your stomach hadn't dropped when you heard her say that, immediately fearing for your boyfriend's safety, but you knew that wasn't the time to panic. Penelope needed you to be strong, so you swallowed your emotions so you could comfort her.

"Penelope, listen to me." you said, pulling away from her so you could look her in the eye. "None of this is your fault, okay? Spencer made his choice, he's a smart man, you know that. He probably has a plan, he knows what he's doing. He's going to be fine, the team is going to find him and bring him back." You tried to reason with her and yourself, seeking to comfort your sister while calming your nerves with your own words.

"But what if they don't get him in time? W-What if... what if they hurt him before we can get to him?"

"That's not gonna happen, not as long as you're out there using that brilliant brain of yours to help your team to find him." You assured her, giving her a warm smile as you wiped away her tears with your thumb. "You need to stay strong for him right now, alright? You have to help him get back home." It was a plea for help hidden in words of encouragement, a subtle way of begging her to bring Spencer back into your arms. It wasn't fair to ask that of her after all she'd been through, you knew that, but you were desperate.

You knew she was just as desperate as you were, though, so she nodded at your words, wiping away her tears and letting out a long sigh before putting her glasses back on and heading back to her office to do what she did best.

Once again you were left alone, pacing around the empty office with your thoughts as your only company. You hated the waiting, the uncertainty and the fear tightening in your chest and making it hard to breathe. You wanted to believe that Spencer would be okay, but the truth was you didn't know. There was no way to be sure the team would get to him in time and the mere possibility that something bad could happen to him was driving you crazy.

Your eyes were glued to the screen of your phone, reading over and over again the last texts you and Spencer had shared as you prayed they wouldn't turn out to be your final conversation. He had warned you that he would be a little late and apologized for ruining your first dinner in your new apartment. You had been quick to reply that it wasn't a problem, assuring him that the extra time would help you finish preparing dinner. Your last message telling him you loved him and to be careful still remained unread and you couldn't help but wonder if he really knew how much you meant it. You hoped he knew how much you loved him and how happy you were to have him in your life. He was the best thing that ever happened to you and you refused to accept that your story would end like this after all you had gone through to be together.

Just as you were about to go to Penelope to ask her if they had any progress on the case, your phone vibrated with a message from her. You almost dropped the device to the floor when you read the words 'Spencer is fine', feeling your muscles relax as a wave of relief swept through your body. You didn't even answer her, opting to go find her to ask her what she knew. However, you discovered that she wasn't in her office, so you went to the conference room where they used to have all their meetings. Then you saw through the glass the crowd of people gathered in the bullpen, among whom you distinguished the figure of Spencer being hugged and kissed by his friends.

You ran out of the office into his arms without a second thought, breaking some speed record in the process. When you called his name he turned to you and your vision blurred with tears as you noticed the purplish red tone on the skin of his temple and the corner of his lips. You hated to see him hurt, even though it was minimal considering the complexity of the situation. You knew things could have turned out much worse, but you still couldn't help but be upset at the image of the love of your life beaten and hurt.

“Thank god you’re okay, I was so worried.” You murmured against his chest as Spencer pulled you tightly into his arms. You let the warmth of his body envelop you, slowly calming your nerves. He was there. He was okay. He had come back to you and that was all that mattered to you.

"I'm okay," he assured you, placing a delicate kiss on the crown of your head. The scent of your hair brought him back home, filling his insides with that warm feeling that only you awakened in him. He was fine, he had you in his arms and that was all he needed to regain his composure.

You pulled away briefly so you could look at him, taking his face in your hands while your eyes scanned his wounds. It was nothing serious, just a couple of bruises that would disappear in a few days. You let your fingers caress his skin delicately before shortening the little distance that separated you, joining your lips in a kiss. You didn't think about the fact that you were in the middle of the office or that the entire BAU team was behind you watching the scene, the world around you wasn't a concern at that moment. You only cared about Spencer and the way his lips moved against yours, showing you how happy he was to be back in your arms too.

It was a delicate, yet powerful kiss. You didn't want to put too much pressure on his lips so as not to hurt him, but you didn't need it to let him know how much you loved him and how worried you had been about him. For a moment you had thought that you weren't going to get another chance to do that, to kiss him with everything you had, to tell him that you loved him one more time. It was something that terrified you, so now that you finally had him back with you, you didn't want to pass up the chance to join your lips one more time.

However, your beautiful magical moment was interrupted by the high pitched voice of Penelope, who was admiring the scene with surprise.

“Oh my god! You two!”

You abruptly pulled away from Spencer, finally realizing what you had done. You were grateful to have your back to the team, so the only one who could see the panic in your eyes was your boyfriend, who smiled at you in amusement. You knew the situation wasn't so terrible, but this wasn't how you had imagined telling others about your relationship with Spencer.

"I fucked it up, didn't I?" you whispered so only he could hear you.

"Yep."

"And they're all staring at us, aren't they?" Spencer looked over your shoulder for a moment, passing his gaze over the group of profilers who were admiring you with surprised and happy expressions on their faces. Then he returned his gaze to your face and nodded, earning a grunt from you as you hid into his chest, seeking refuge from the inevitable comments and questions that were to come.

"I can't believe you two! How could you keep this a secret?" You heard Penelope complaining behind your back, speaking increasingly faster and in a high-pitched tone. "How long has this been going on?"

"You don't really want to know." You told her, emerging from your refuge in Spencer's chest to face your sister. She let out a gasp, clearly surprised by your response.

"How long?" she insisted, almost feeling betrayed that you kept something so important hidden from her for who knows how long.

You and Spencer shared a look before you let out a sigh. "Since your birthday party at Rossi's place." You confessed and Penelope's jaw dropped, unable to believe that you had been able to keep your relationship a secret for so long. "Oh and also, since we're sharing, I don't have any friends named Sophie." You added, amused by your sister's expression.

"Oh I'm so mad right now, but I'm also so happy for you guys! You’re so lucky I love you! Come here!" Penelope enveloped you in a tight hug before you could object. She planted a loud kiss on each of your cheeks, repeating how happy she was for you, before letting the rest of the team congratulate you.

"I knew I saw something between you the other day!" Emily stressed, remembering when she had caught you together at the bar. Now that she knew the truth it was obvious that you were together, but at the time she hadn't given it much thought. You guys had been dancing around each other since she had joined the team so many years ago, so she thought it was just you being you. She was happy to be wrong though, you two deserved to finally be happy.

You were enveloped in the warm love of your friends, who showered you with positive wishes for your future. It was a nice ending to such a horrible day, exactly what you needed to finally quiet your troubled mind. It definitely wasn't the way you imagined revealing your relationship with Spencer, but you were happy it had happened. It reminded you that as long as you had Spencer by your side and your family close by life was beautiful no matter the adversities.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer x fem reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader angst

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dukeofdelirium · 1 month

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????? creepy…? Aang didn’t view Katara as a mother or mother figure within his life, lol. Like, ever. Show me when and where Aang ever thought of her in this way?

Y’all are invalidating the love Aang had for his father Gyatso who actually raised him from the time he was a baby. Aang viewed Gyatso as his parent. He loved Gyatso as his parent. He proudly states to Katara and Sokka that Gyatso “taught me everything I know.” Stop erasing Aang’s bond with his actual parental figure in canon. Aang’s love for Gyatso and grief over losing him is what everything else in the story revolves around. The disrespect you idiots show to this relationship is ridiculous. We need to start gatekeeping this show I’m so serious

The first thing Aang did when he met Katara was to ask her to go play with him as the children they are. He then reminded her that she was still a child, too. Aang always viewed Katara as his peer and equal, his best friend—NEVER his parent.

If Aang viewed Katara as his parent, that means he would view her as having authority over him. Which he doesn’t. That also means he would expect her to care for him, which he very much doesn’t.

In fact, the exact opposite is depicted. Aang actually canonically struggles with and rejects Katara’s affections toward him, multiple times. It is portrayed as difficult for him to allow her to show him love, something he has to get over as the show continues. Aang never asks Katara for anything, and he doesn’t expect her to do things for him. She does all of these things of her own free will. Katara also hates that Toph views her as motherly. The only time Katara even speaks on this is when she is arguing with Sokka and Toph. Guess who isn’t a part of this in regards to viewing Katara as motherly? Aang. He doesn’t speak on any of this and the episode doesn’t focus on his and Katara’s relationship because they don’t treat one another the way Katara treats Toph and Sokka. The only time Katara ever acts “motherly” toward Aang is in that very episode, and it’s played for laughs… because she isn’t his mom lol

Also, the EIP episode wasn’t “insane” 😂 and it definitely wasn’t proof that Katara didn’t love Aang. If anything, she’s verbally affirming she does love him romantically. She just set a boundary, because she was afraid he might die and she would be unable to revive him like she had in the book 2 finale. It’s really not that difficult to understand…

Also.. if Aang getting broken out of the ice is a metaphor for …. Childbirth…. Then did Katara birth Appa too ? 😭😂 help it’s sending me

#monk gyatso #Katara #Aang #kataang #pro kataang #avatar the last airbender #atla #anti zutara #anti zutara shippers #anti zutara stans #anti zutara fandom

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shrimperini · 9 months

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emori AU babies :3

like in canon, sunny and mari moved to faraway town when they were young. they met hero and kel and befriended them. sunny is a quiet, snarky, imaginative kid who likes to draw. mari is an intelligent, introverted girl who has a big interest for bugs, especially spiders. hero is also pretty introverted and likes reading. the irritable nerdy kid if you will. when hero first met mari, he thought she was a bit weird and didn’t really like her, but eventually they became friends and as they grew older they fell for eachother.

kel is the brash, energetic kid who constantly wants to play! he always drags sunny out of his house to spend time together. at some point, the group met aubrey. again like in canon, later on she introduced basil to the others. aubrey is a responsible, well mannered & cheerful young girl. one day she saw a blonde boy playing alone in the park, so she became his friend. basil, who comes from a rich family, never really had a close friend before; aubrey was his first.

aubrey helped basil come out of his shell and he grew closer to sunny as well, and became inseparable. basil may appear quiet and shy, but he’s a bit of a prankster. he really likes poking fun at his friends every chance he gets lol

btw hero is still terrified of spiders in this au 🤭🕷️ mari has a collection of bugs of all kinds in her room. everytime he visits her he has to look away from that corner lol

#my art #omori #omori fanart #omori art #omori sunny #omori kel #omori aubrey #omori hero #omori basil #omori mari #emori au

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spider-jaysart · 2 months

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Quick doodle of little Damian and his other bro Respawn + Momma Talia too

(Click for better quality)

May or may not clean and fully finish these up lol, but I really wanted to do some fluff with these three hehehehe, so I really like it anyways💖

Also, for anyone wondering why Respawn is here with Damian and Talia, and while so young too instead of as a teen, this is not my Young age au here lol, I just changed up Respawn's backstory for my version of the main DC universe, making it that instead of Ra's, it was actually Slade, for very selfish reasons, who had created Respawn himself, using his and Talia's DNA mix just like in canon to make it happen, and was the one who had him in his care ever since he was born. But then one day, Talia found out about Respawn's existence and also the fact that he's her Son, while unexpectedly stumbling upon both him and Slade during a mission of hers, so then she decided to take him away with her to raise instead, since despite Slade being the Father, she sees him as a danger that should never be near kids, especially after hearing everything he's done to his other older ones before, so she's definitely not gonna let her child keep being stuck with that. Once Talia successfully brings Respawn back to the League without Slade being able to follow her, he officially becomes apart of the Al Ghul family after that and stays living with them for a long good while before certain events in the future happen. There's way more details to this version of the backstory though and to the future parts of it too, but this is just to only quickly summarize things here, but anyways that is why he is here as a young kid with them both (and another thing that I wanna mention too, unlike canon, Ra's and Talia do not abuse him in this version of things! They care about him like how they care about Damian and treat him the same as him too)

Also, I am thinking that Talia would feel like it's also so wrong that Slade didn't give Respawn a real name, so she decides to name him "Abbas", which is an Arabic name that means "Lion", because it describes his strength as the fighter he was already trained to be and the internal one he also had while dealing with Slade for so long before she had finally met and rescued him. After that, Respawn begins to grow attached to it and understands the actual love and thoughtfulness behind it, unlike his original one, and it lets him see and feel like he's really cared for, so in result, this causes the name "Respawn" to later become one that belongs more to his sepereate identity instead in the future whenever the mask is on

And he leaves the Wilson name behind too, since he doesn't want to be associated with Slade anymore after going through a lot of abuse from him, so he just completely goes by "Abbas Al Ghul"

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venusin-aries · 1 month

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E//riel’s yesterday, today, tomorrow, and every day: “SJM’s sweater is about e//riel! Her background is about e//riel! These emoji’s are about e//riel! This Taylor Swift song is about e//riel! These news articles that didn’t even bother doing their research are soft launching e//riel! She had her kid because of e//riel! Feysand got together to set up e//riel! Nessian got together to set up e//riel! Feyre almost died having her baby FOR e//riel! E//riel is the second coming of Jesus. E//riel is the whole reason this book series was written.”

Also E//riel’s yesterday, today, tomorrow, and every day: “Gwyn is NOT a bad person. She’s so misunderstood by her stans. Fanon Gwyn is so far from her canon personality and SJM is only using her to further e//riel. Azriel respects her, but doesn’t even like her. The destruction of a character like her and a found family like the Valkyrie’s isn’t important at all! Lucien wouldn’t be deeply, psychologically damaged after breaking the bond. He would move RIGHT ON to Vassa! He didn’t spend years mourning Jesminda, a woman who wasn’t even his mate! Elain needs someone who will do everything for her, not someone who thinks she’s capable! Who cares about any of that! We would just see e//riel’s happily ever after. It’s all for E//riel 🥹this whole series is for e//riel!”

I’ve never met a ship I dislike more and I’ve been on tumblr for 14 years lol. I’ve seen some shit.

Soft launching? Like a bland ass Instagram couple that teens have a parasocial relationship with? Okay.

I wouldn’t be surprised if they think about e//riel more in a single day than SJM had in her entire career.

#anti e/riel #Gwynriel #elucien #pro gwynriel #pro elucien

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bluesylveon2 · 11 months

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The Princess and the General

Summary: When Silver meets the princess from his father's old bedtime stories, except she is not a princess but his past lover.

Note: set in the same universe as the Leona royal au fic, fluff, slight angst, mentioned pregnancy, aged-up characters, Yuu/Reader is a fae, former General Lilia, and oc child. I saw the General Lilia card and it inspired this fic :)

Warning: not beta read, possible ooc characters, slight spoiler of past Lilia, and possibly inaccurate fae aging (just ignore canon if it was addressed in Book 7 lol).

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist: here

"Father, can you tell me a bedtime story?"

A male with long black hair and red streaks scooted closer to his son's bed, careful not to wake the green-haired boy sleeping next to him. His red eyes met big auroral ones.

The man chuckled at his son's cuteness and nodded. "Alright." He adjusted the boy so he could lay his head on the man's chest. "What kind of story do you want?"

"The one with the princess."

The man's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly cleared his throat. "You always ask for that one. It has a sad moment too."

The boy smiled. His innocent eyes sparkled. "I like the ending."

The man sighed and nodded. "Alright. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. She was so beautiful that it felt like the world around her would stop to stare at her when she passed by. She was very kind and loving. Everyone in the village loved her." The man felt a lump in his throat, but Silver's innocent eyes continued staring at him. "One day, she met an injured and cold-hearted knight. So, being the kind princess she was, nursed him back to health. The princess eventually grew close to the knight that she fell in love with him."

The boy began to feel sleep overcome him, and he closed his eyes, unaware of the man's voice, beginning to choke. Despite this, he continued the story and concealed his aching heart for his son's sake.

"But the knight did not feel the same way. He was cruel and only cared about returning back to the war. So he left once he felt better, leaving the princess heartbroken without saying goodbye. The princess thought all was lost until one day, while wandering around the woods around her castle, she discovered a small baby with golden hair. She felt sorry for the baby, so she adopted him and named him Aurum. The princess gave the baby all the love and attention he deserved." Lilia almost choked on his words, but he continued on. "She raised him as her own, loved him, and nurtured him until he became a king. And they both lived happily ever after."

Silver stared at the faceless crowd in thought. It has been years since his father stopped telling him bedtime stories, yet the one with the princess stood out to him. His father never described her in detail, but Silver often wondered if he would ever meet a woman like her. He often had dreams of a beautiful woman who looked to be around his father's age. Still, he has yet to meet someone whose beauty can make the world stop.

"We need food, clothes, water, and new swords. Are we missing anything else…" The green-haired boy looked up at his friend (more like a brother), but his friend's eyes stared off at the crowded marketplace. "SILVER!"

Silver broke out of his train of thought and turned to his friend. "Did you need something, Sebek?"

Sebek groaned in annoyance. "You were staring off into space again. You must stop doing that so we can return to the Young Master."

Silver sighed and closed his bag. "Father can care for him just fine, but we can head back. Let me make sure I have my magical pen, and we can go."

Once they had everything, the two walked through the Briar Valley markets and back to the castle. The walk was short, yet Silver was too occupied with his thoughts. He had a feeling that something would happen today, but he did not know if it was good or bad.

As Silver was about to exit the bustling market, a woman walked past him. Her features passed for a brief second, but Silver felt it. Sebek, who was in front of him, slowed down. The voices around him sounded like unintelligible noises. It felt like the world suddenly slowed down, and it all happened when the woman passed.

Silver immediately turned around in search of her. His eyes caught sight of her swaying hair and pointed ears. She looked young, possibly around his father's age. Silver's feet acted before he could think.

"Wait! Miss, wait!"

Sebek turned around only to find his friend not there. "Silver?" Sebek's eyes landed on Silver running away. "SILVER! GET BACK HERE!"

The woman turned around to the noise to see a silver-haired boy heading her way, followed by a green-haired boy screaming at him. Her eyes stared at the familiar uniform. It was an updated one from the one she knew, but it still had the same colors as Briar Valley. Suddenly, the silver-haired one started pointing at her.

"Miss! I need to talk to you!"

The woman immediately ran off in hopes of losing them. Meanwhile, Sebek had finally caught up to Silver.

"Silver! Why are you chasing that woman?"

"Remember those stories Father would tell us? Specifically, the one with the princess? That's her!"

Sebek looked at Silver like he was crazy. "How would you know that? We could be chasing an innocent woman?"

"She had similar features to the princess, and the world slowed down when I saw her. Trust me, Sebke. It's her."

Sebek looked at Silver with a conflicted look. They should return to the castle, but what were the odds that it was the same woman. Even Sebek had moments where he wanted to meet her.

The woman moved fast, using her fae abilities to her advantage. What felt like hours was actually minutes of running, and she was heading toward a large crowd. It would be a matter of time before she lost them.

"We need to do something!" Silver yelled to Sebek. The green-haired boy had a determined look.

"I have no choice but to do this." Sebek took a deep breath. "DO YOU KNOW LILIA VANROUGE?" The woman and everyone else stopped moving and turned to them. She stood there stunned, giving Silver and Sebek enough time to catch up to her. Even up close, her beauty was maximized by ten.

The woman's eyes widened briefly before going to a neutral expression. "Was he looking for me?" she replied, causing Sebek to groan.

"You didn't answer my question!"

Silver sighed before looking at the woman. "I apologize for my friend, Miss. It is a long story, but Lilia often talks about you."

The woman's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "You're lying. He would never talk about me like that."

Silver turned to Sebek and noticed the big crowd watching them like it was a drama his father liked. The two nodded after a few moments of silence.

"I think it's best to discuss this over tea. How about we go back to the castle?"

The woman glanced around her, a hint of reluctance on her face, before nodding.

---

The three sat in Malleus' study with Sebek preparing the tea. The woman stared at the room in awe.

"The King must have traveled a lot," she whispered as she stared at the many pennant flags decorating the walls.

"They were gifts from Master Lilia to the Young Master, Yuu. The Young Master treasures them." Sebek proudly said as he set down her teacup.

Yuu thanked him and drank from her cup. She set it down and looked at Silver. "So let me make sure I understand this. You are Lilia's adopted son, and you-" her gaze turned to Sebek, "-are Baul's grandson. Lilia would tell you two stories where I was a princess, and you think it's me? How would you know?"

"He always talked about how beautiful you were and how it would look like time would slow down when you walk by." Silver explained, causing Yuu to blush.

"I think he was exaggerating."

"No!" Silver exclaimed, "It felt like the world stopped moving when we passed you in the market earlier."

Yuu's mouth opened in shock, "I see…What else did he say in that story?"

"He mentioned how you met a cruel knight, fell in love with him, and he left you heartbroken. The story ends with you adopting a child."

Yuu chuckled and leaned back, her eyes gazing at the ceiling painting. "Did you know that's how I met your father? It was a long time ago, he was a general, and I was naive. I thought he would reciprocate my feelings, but I was lying to myself the whole time. That story sounds like the life I wanted when I met him."

Sebek awkwardly drank his own tea and remained quiet. He had heard stories from his grandfather about how the mischievous Lilia they knew now was very different from years ago. Meanwhile, Silver slammed his hands on the table.

"Father may have been like that before, but he is not now! Also, I was too young to understand then, but he would always stumble and tear up when he told me the story. He may not say it, but I know he regrets what he did."

Yuu smiled sadly. "Thank you for that, Silver; those are the words I wished I heard years ago."

"Then you should stay so you can see him!"

Yuu shook her head. "I don't know if I should. I should be heading out soon before it gets dark. I'm visiting the Scalding Sands and hear it is lovely this time of year." Yuu brushed off imaginary dust off her clothes and started standing up.

Silver and Sebek stood up like they had a burst of energy. They jumped toward Yuu and pushed her back down.

"NO!"

"WAIT!"

Yuu became slightly annoyed. "What are you two going on about?"

"What is going on here?" A deep voice asked as he entered the study. Everyone froze, and their eyes turned to the newcomer.

"Lilia?" Yuu said as she stared at him. He looked handsome, but she still saw small remnants of the cold man she met before. Her eyes were wide, just like Lilia's, and her heart tensed up from seeing him.

"Yuu?" Lilia whispered with fondness that startled Yuu. She still looked as beautiful as he remembered, and he felt an invisible pull towards her like an enchanted spindle. Neither of them moved and stared in silence until Silver cleared his throat.

"Father, I'm sure that you remember Yuu. If you would excuse Sebek and me, we must help Malleus." He quickly said as he grabbed Sebek's arm and dragged him out.

"Right! We must see the Young Master to help him!" The two boys immediately closed the door, leaving Yuu and Lilia alone. What Malleus needed help with? They may never know.

Yuu cleared her throat. "You know it's been a while since I've seen you, Lilia. You definitely changed." She made no move to leave the room, causing Lilia to give in to the invisible pull.

Lilia chuckled and sat down next to Yuu. "Don't I still look youthful?" He grinned mischievously.

“Don’t push it. I’m surprised you haven’t broken your back yet.” Yuu smirked, causing Lilia to gasp.

"My youthful appearance has made it through the years! Besides, who else was supposed to watch over Malleus during his youth?"

Yuu laughed at the thought. She felt her heart relax as they quickly made conversation like they were old friends seeing each other. "I guess it makes sense. I heard the King was quite the handful as a kid."

"Yes, but he grew out of it...most of it. He had a wonderful young caretaker to watch over him."

Yuu rolled her eyes and smiled. "Don't push it now. You may have cut your hair and dyed it pink instead of red, but there is more than that. You look happier and not like you're ready to murder someone. You even have a son. A human son, for the matter. The Lilia I knew before would never want to be near one, much less adopt one."

Lilia smiled proudly, his eyes briefly glancing at the door Silver had just left from with fondness. "Well, things happened, and I met Silver. He is my pride and joy, after all. I taught him everything and he has been a fantastic retainer for Malleus."

"I can tell. You raised him well. Did you know that he was the one who found me in the market? He even told me you tell him stories about me as a princess. I could not believe it myself." Yuu chuckled, but Lilia remained silent.

"Lilia?"

Lilia looked at Yuu with a serious expression. The atmosphere felt slightly tense as Yuu knew it was time to address the elephant in the room. Suddenly, Lilia got down on both knees in front of Yuu and held her hands. He gently caressed her fingers with his thumbs.

"You know, I tried to find you after the war ended. My mind was so focused on it that I did not realize what I did to you until it was over. I even returned to your house to beg for forgiveness, but you were gone." He looked up at Yuu. "Did you leave because of me?"

Yuu slowly nodded and looked down at Lilia's hands. "That was part of the reason. That house may have brought me painful memories, but I always wanted to explore the world. Your leaving gave me an excuse to do it. Despite that, I learned so much about myself from it."

"I'm happy for you, Yuu. I tried to look out for you years after, and then I met Malleus and Silver. You can see what happened next…" Lilia trailed off before continuing. "Yuu, I am so sorry for the damage I've done. If I could travel back in time, then I would. I would be the fae that you deserved back then. I was slow to realize it, but I love you and always have."

Yuu felt tears form in her eyes. "Lilia…" The former stoic man rested his forehead on her knees and began to cry.

"So please, if you could give me a chance, I will stay by your side for as long as you want. If not, then I understand. I will respect your wishes."

Yuu sighed, causing Lilia to look up and for their eyes to meet. "I still have plans to travel, but I have an idea. I will think about it, and when I come back, if you are still waiting for me, we can talk again and go from there."

Lilia nodded with hope in his eyes. He moved to sit on one knee, grabbed Yuu's left hand, and kissed her knuckles. When Lilia's lips touched her skin, Yuu felt a spark flow through her body. It was a familiar feeling, and she had missed it.

"I, former general Lilia Vanrouge, swear to wait for you, Yuu, for as long as you need until you tell me to go or death do us part."

Yuu interlocked their fingers together as a sign of comfort between them.

"I, Yuu, promise to give you, Lilia Vanrouge, my answer when I return." Her eyes shifted to meet Lilia's red ones. "Maybe I will let you propose to me properly."

Lilia smiled with all the love he had for her. "Take all the time that you need."

With those words, both knew the future would be bright.

---

Later

Silver, Sebek, Malleus, and Yuu sat together, silently eating dinner until Silver addressed the other elephant in the room.

"So, Yuu, can you cook?"

Yuu's eyes lit up in excitement. "Yes, I can! I picked up a few things during my travels, so say the word, and I'll make it." Yuu smiled, causing Silver, Sebek, and Malleus to tear up. The three ran to her and pulled her in a big group hug while crying tears of joy.

"Thank you!" They cried in relief. Meanwhile, Lilia watched them from afar with a smile.

"What a lovely family."

"Mommy, can you read me another bedtime story?"

Yuu laughed as she tucked her daughter under the blankets. "Another one, Aurie? I already told you many."

"Please! My little brother wants to hear one too!" Aurie pleaded. Her big red eyes shined with forming tears, and she put on her best pout. Yuu sighed, giving in to her daughter's cuteness.

"Okay. One more, and that's it. I don't want you to fall asleep when your father and brother return tomorrow. You know that they will be excited to see you."

Aurie smiled proudly and nodded, her hair swishing up and down. "I promise, Mommy."

Yuu smiled and ruffled Aurie's silky hair. "Now, what story do you want?"

"Can you tell me the story of the beautiful princess who fell in love with the handsome knight? I like that one."

"Alright, young lady." Yuu sat beside her daughter and let Aurie rest beside her as best as possible with her 30-week baby bump. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. One day, while out in the village, she met a knight who was in love with her from afar for years…."

A/N: Aurie means "the golden one" and comes from the Latin word aurum aka gold. It's also used as a short form for the name Aurora :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia x yuu #lilia vanrouge #general lilia #general lilia x reader #general lilia vanrouge #general lilia vanrouge x reader

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maybege · 2 months

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What If - Part One

Summary: Tensions between the clans are high so to ease the reclaiming of Mandalore, an old tradition is reintroduced.

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.0k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), finger sucking, oral fixation maybe, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk and loving verbal humiliation, exhibitionism (lite)

Here we are! Last year, April did not go so well for our favourite Big Blue so I decided the only way I can get over it is by rewriting That Episode in a way that I find acceptable. Naturally, that also meant adding A/B/O dynamics.

Joke aside: I love love love my Calmer AU and I love love love it even more if we can pair it with a fix it AU so this is what that is. However, I won’t be super stringent with adhering to the rest of the canon either. Both because I am here for the vibes only atm and also because I still haven’t seen the S3 finale so I have no idea how it actually ends. lol

Anyway, I would be very happy to hear what you think in a comment or a reblog, those really do give me life.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke.”

You watched as Axe Woves, captain of the privateers and the most insufferable alpha you had ever met, looked at Bo-Katan as if she had lost her mind. And to be fair you could not really blame him. When her suggestion had first been made public knowledge, everyone had thought she had lost her mind.

Well, almost everyone.

“You want to reinstall an ancient rule just because these primitives cannot control their emotions?”

“It is not only about them controlling their emotions,” Bo-Katan pointedly interjected, her arms crossed in front of her chest. You had heard a lot about her but the actual experience of seeing her and hearing her speak was … underwhelming. “It is about bringing the tribes closer together.”

The alpha scoffed, clearly unimpressed and you scrunched your nose, not really liking the scent he emitted. As an omega, you were used to having strong-scented alphas all around you but there was a difference between a casual run-in and standing in a small room with the alpha leaders of opposing tribes. The difference being that under any other circumstances, you would have been able to escape the stench of this arrogant alpha.

Now, though, you were stuck between what felt like a rock and a hard place.

“It might be ancient for you but it is not for us,” The Armourer said calmly.

Your eyes flitted to the alpha leader of the clan that you had only gotten to know as a “cult”. She had a very demanding presence, one that almost rivalled that of Briggs. Which you knew he noticed by the way he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“What do you think?” Sluice asked you. Briggs was standing next to her, looking as stoic as ever and you knew it had to be serious when they rested their decisions on you. Not that they never asked you for your opinion, you were a respected member of the council, after all, but it was your first term as the voted omega representative and you had relied on their guidance a lot when it came to decision-making – especially on this scale. But now it seemed they were relying on yours.

You looked back at your fellow council member and friend, Chants, who gave you a slight nod.

“I think I would do anything to get us peace,” you said, finally, highly aware that next to your friend you were the only omega in the room and the person who everybody’s eyes rested on, “And the ancient rules lasted for centuries for a reason. They worked then and I cannot think of anything why they would not work now.”

“Maybe because they will use any chance they get to exploit the innocent omegas of other clans.”

You frowned, not liking any of Axe’s implications. Were omegas of Djarin’s tribe not innocent? Did he think you were incapable of defending yourself?

You were about to think of a retort when another alpha across the room stood up from his seat. He was clearly from Djarin’s clan as he was wearing a helmet and smelled so offended, you had to fight the urge not to snap at Woves himself. What startled you most, however, was how big that man was. You had thought him to be standing already with how tall he was and he was even taller when he actually stood up, his figure demanding a lot of space and everybody’s attention.

“I am not sure how you were raised but where I come from we respect our omegas,” he thundered, his voice deep and cracking through the beskar barrier, “And especially our calmers.”

Axe Woves looked as if he was biting his tongue not to say anything and you had to suppress your smile when you saw the strict look on Bo-Katan’s face. She was obviously trying her best to keep everyone in line.

“It is decided, then,” The Armourer announced, “We will collect the names of those willing to be calmers and distribute them amongst our tribes. This is the way.”

It did not come as a surprise that the desire to be a calmer in these times was … almost non-existent. You knew Sluice and Briggs did their best to present a united front but it was hard to convince omegas across all clans of something by having their highest-ranking alphas making decisions for them.

Still, given the circumstances, you were glad to find that a decent number of omegas seemed to be at least willing to hear you out.

You and Chants had been the first ones to volunteer, figuring that if you, as omega representatives of the council, chose to volunteer, it might assure other omegas who were still on the fence. And it had a surprisingly positive effect because, from all clans, omegas signed up. And the more omegas signed up, the more they seemed to encourage other omegas to sign up as well.

Soon, the sun had settled over Nevarro and a few fires had been made by which the Mandalorians of all clans huddled together. Crates and ship pieces had been pulled to create some circle-like shapes and make-shift benches and once the foundlings had all been sent to bed, the announcement began.

One after the other, names were drawn, pairing an omega with an alpha. You watched friends, acquaintances and strangers make their way to the centre when their names were called, before walking away together.

When you heard your name called, it was like you were in the clouds. Far away from everything and everyone. Maybe you could still say no, maybe you could just go and disappear forever. What if you were paired with someone horrid? Would people be angry if you decided to leave even though you were the first to volunteer? What if you weren’t good at the whole claiming thing at all and your failure resulted in a war that was to last centuries?

“ … Paz Vizsla.”

The giant of a man stood up and your heart stopped. That was the man from the council meeting, the one who had spoken against Woves. The one whose head had almost touched the ceiling and who was wearing a blaster on his thigh even now. There was nothing on his body that looked as if it could not be used as a weapon. If this was how he was in his home, how hostile was he in places he did not know?

Your heart raced in your chest as you walked towards him, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at you. You felt sick to your stomach and your breathing had to be abnormally loud. What if everyone could hear how nervous you were? How panicked? What if that was reason enough for other volunteers to change their mind and then it was all for nothing?

When your hands touched, his proximity pulled you back down to Nevarro.

You followed him wordlessly to the back of the group, passing a few couples that already seemed to get acquainted. You tried not to look at them, the same way you tried not to look at him for fear that his giant stature would terrify you into leaving.

Paz Vizsla was a warrior through and through and it showed in the way he was sitting too. He took up almost all the space on the little bench and even when he was sitting down and you were standing up, he seemed so much bigger than you.

“Hello,” he said and you were taken aback by how gentle he sounded. He did not look gentle. He looked dangerous. He looked like he could snap you in half. He –

“Hello,” you replied shyly.

He tilted his head and you reminded yourself to look into his visor and not take in his very large presence. Was he as large underneath the plates of armour? What was that colour all about? Did it mean anything?

His hand tugged on yours and it took you a moment to realize he wanted you sit to on his lap.

Careful not to come too close, you perched yourself on his knees even though it resulted in his knee pads digging into your thighs uncomfortably. Ironic, considering you were about to get to know this man in the most intimate ways.

“I don’t bite, you know?” he sounded surprisingly amused, his legs spreading under yours and you squeaked, throwing your arms around his neck to keep your balance.

“I suppose the helmet would make that very hard,” you replied, not thinking about how you wanted to keep this alpha happy and not risk antagonizing him.

But to your surprise, the alpha warrior roared with laughter, sounding nothing like the stern and dangerous man you had imagined. You smiled a little, loosening your grip around his shoulder and allowing yourself to truly rest your weight on him.

“What is your name?” he asked, his big hand running over your back before coming to rest on your lower back. The heat of his touch did not feel unpleasant and you took a deep breath.

“What is it to you?” you asked right back, keeping your tone even as you kept your eyes on the front of the fire where the announcements continued to pair up calmers and alphas.

“Do you not think I should know the name of the omega I am about to make very happy?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his flat joke but the corners of your mouth tugged up nonetheless. “Aren’t you going to call me omega all the time anyway?”

“Yes, but as an endearment,” he stated, his helmet resting next to your cheek, “Not because I won't know your name.”

That was weirdly touching.

You told him your name, then, and your body shivered as he repeated it in a deep voice.

“I gather you have more experience in this than I do,” you shifted, “What, uh, how … how do we proceed?”

“However we want to,” he replied as if that was not easier said than done, “There are a few things I need to know first, though. Are you here out of your own free will?”

“Of course, I am,” you protested, “I was the one to agree to this whole scheme if you recall, why would I not be here of my own free will?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was calm and his second hand brushed over your arm up to your neck where you could feel your pulse race, “And because you smelled … hesitant.”

“You can smell me with that helmet on?”

“You would be surprised at the things I can do with that helmet on.”

You raised your eyebrows, feeling your cheeks heat up at the innuendo. This man was nothing like you had imagined at all. He seemed ... funny, oddly enough. And kind in a way you had not expected. And gentle, too, with the way his hold on your body was strong and supportive but certainly loose enough that you could leave any time you wanted to.

“Are you wet?”

“Uh, what?”

His voice dropped an octave and his gloved hand brushed over your neck, barely brushing your scent gland. “Are you wet, omega?” he repeated his question, “Does your body react to my scent? To my voice? To my touch? Do you like the idea of being close to me?”

“Maybe a little bit,” you admitted, shifting your legs and trying to ignore the low pulsing in your core. How could a voice be so enticing in a man?

“Good,” he grunted, “Open your mouth.”

You did, opening your mouth for him and feeling your heart skip three beats at once. He pulled off his gloves, revealing thick, weathered hands and fingers. There were inked designs on them, tattoos whose meanings you did not know but you wanted to. You wanted to ask him and listen to his stories while putting your nose on his neck, just close enough to the edge of his helmet so you could smell him. And scent him, maybe, if he would let you.

Shocked at your own daydreams, you tried to focus instead on what you could see and not the images your brain came up with. Every one of his fingers had at least one tattooed knuckle but his ring and middle finger had the most designs on them, some of the lines already a little washed out from age. Much like the rest of his body, his hands and fingers were big and thick. And despite your best intentions, your mind instantly wandered to what it would feel like to have them on your body.

“Wider,” he instructed you, his hand flexing, and you glanced around, wanting to make sure that no one else was watching. But you were his calmer and you wanted to calm him. Even if it meant other people saw you in a more vulnerable position than you would prefer.

Not to mention that the way he rumbled out instructions as if you were the best thing in the whole wide galaxy made the wetness between your thighs spread.

Something in his voice made you want to please him and so you pushed out your tongue, just the tiniest bit but it seemed to be enough. “Stars,” he hummed, thick fingers settling on your tongue and pushing down, “I think we are going to have a lot of fun, aren’t we, omega?”

It was instinct to suck on his fingers, coating them in your saliva and you closed your eyes, trying to think one thought at a time. Like how big they were in your mouth and how heavy. How he did not move them at all, before gently pushing down on your tongue. You followed his silent order and opened your mouth again, your eyes fluttering open when you heard the rumble in his chest.

You could not see his eyes through the visor but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and intense. He did not say anything when he pulled his two fingers away. Your eyes followed the movement, spotting the wet trail that connected them to your bottom lip, still, and found yourself wishing for them back in your mouth.

What had this man done to you?

He put three fingers together, then. His ring, middle and pointer fingers landed on your tongue before pushing inside, deeper than before. You took a deep breath through your nose, feeling the touch tickle at the back of your throat and you swallowed around the digits, trying not to gag.

The alpha hummed, his legs moving and thus jostling you in his lap. He pulled his fingers away again and you whined, your mouth following him as if you could pull his fingers back by the power of sheer will alone.

Heat collected in your cheeks and between your thighs at the realization that you liked this. You liked him in charge.

You looked around nervously, trying to gauge if anyone had seen this moment of weakness. And it seemed that no one had, except for the alpha that had put you in this position in the first place. “No one is watching us,” he assured you, pushing his fingers back in your mouth, “No one is looking at you, omega. Wanna know how I know?”

Relaxing your throat so he could get his fingers deeper, seemed to be answer enough.

He tilted his head, a pleased hum leaving him when you swirled your tongue around his fingers. “Because everybody knows I don’t share my omega, and that includes seeing how beautiful you look drooling on my fingers like it is my cock.”

His fingers were pulled from your mouth again, only to be pushed back in and you realised what he was doing. “Open your mouth for me again, sweetheart,” he said, “Let me see how good you take my fingers.” Like they are my cock.

It remained unsaid but the thought that he was … fucking your throat with his fingers made you wetter than you would have admitted. But you opened your mouth for him nonetheless, letting him see how his fingers glided over your tongue, playing with it before pulling out, dragging over your bottom lip and leaving a drooly mess behind.

“Thank the stars it was you,” he whispered, running his wet fingers over your lips, “I hoped it would be you.”

His words caused something in you to stir. Confusion, mostly, but also a feeling of flattery that he seemed to have noticed you before. That it wasn’t just duty for him. That, maybe, it wasn’t just duty for you. Not when he caused your blood to stir like that with just his fingers in your mouth.

“Can you open your dress for me and still be comfortable, omega?” he asked, his voice almost drowned out by the crackling of the fire, “I want to claim you once out in the open. So everyone can see what a good calmer you are.”

“What if I’m not though?” you heard yourself ask. Your voice sounded way too small to your liking, not at all teasing and flirting like you wanted to but insecure and a little hoarse from where he had been using your throat.

“I know you are,” the alpha replied steadily, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip, “I know it from the way you try to be so good to me. Know it from the way you don’t recoil from me. Do you have any idea how long it has been since I smelled someone as beautiful as you?”

Beautiful, his voice echoed in your head and you looked at him with wide eyes, the desire to touch him growing stronger.

“To be honest,” he murmured, his fingers running over your cleavage, playing with the top button of your dress, “I don’t think I ever smelled an omega that I wanted to claim as much as you.”

“Then you haven’t met many omegas,” you replied, trying to ignore your trembling hands as you undid your dress. The fabric fell open on your middle and you could see the way his chest moved a little heavier.

“Stand up,” he instructed you, meddling with a little pouch on his thigh. Your eyes fell to the where his legs had shuffled apart even more. He was not wearing a codpiece, you noticed, and the bulge in his pants was huge. Or, when it came to him, proportional.

At the thought of him putting that … thing inside you, you squeezed your thighs together. You had never been with an alpha before, and certainly not an aloha of that kind of size. Not even your toys to help you through your heats were this big.

“What is that?” you asked, watching as he pulled a little tube out of his pocket.

“Lube,” he explained, holding the little bottle up, “I am big and I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your entire body tingled with desire and you shuffled your legs again. The cool evening breeze reminded you of your state of undress and you glanced around nervously.

“No one is watching,” he reminded you. “Now,” he put the bottle down next to him, petting his thighs, “Up you go.”

Your dress fell open and just like that, you were completely bare to him. It did not make you as nervous as you had thought it would. Knowing this strange man was looking at you, touching you, did not fill you with a sense of dread. Because he did not feel like a stranger. He felt … familiar.

The way Paz Vizsla was touching you only made your entire body thrum with pleasure, like he knew exactly just where you were most sensitive.

His bare fingers brushed over your chin, down your neck, between your breasts down your middle until they just barely grazed your folds. You rocked your hips, just the slightest bit, to get him closer but the alpha pulled his fingers away.

Then he repeated the motion, touching you but avoiding the places where you wanted – needed – him most.

Your mouth fell open, your tongue slipping out in a moment of weakness. But as soon as you noticed what you were doing, you closed it again, hoping he had not seen it. But of course, he had.

The warrior chuckled. “You want my fingers back in your mouth, don’t you?”

You swallowed, your eyes flicking to the tree line behind him in the hopes that he could not see the embarrassment so clearly written on your face.

“This is not the time to be shy,” he reminded you, his fingers tipping your chin up. You knew he was looking at you, could feel the weight of his gaze on you. And you also knew that he knew the answer already. There was no denying it. So, you nodded.

“Good girl,” he praised you, “Open your mouth for me again.”

Pushing out your tongue as he pushed his fingers back in your mouth, you allowed yourself to really enjoy it this time. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on them and it did not take long before you wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to get closer to him. With you straddling him – and wearing barely anything – the cool night air made you feel cold and exposed.

Until his other hand was on your pussy again.

When his fingers brushed over your clit, gathering the wetness between your folds, your entire body tensed. His fingers felt thick and calloused, a stark contrast to what your own fingers felt like and you breathed through the initial stretch of having two of them pushed inside you. Your toes tingled with pleasure as he edged them deeper and deeper, his movements slow and controlled until you felt like you were blinded by pleasure.

He crooked his digits inside you, rubbing over a spot you could only reach on the rare occasion that you took a lot of time for yourself.

Now though, it seemed like it was effortless for him.

“Paz,” you mumbled around his digits, your voice muffled.

“Deep breaths,” he instructed, “Open up for me, sweetheart, let me in that pussy.”

Surprisingly enough, his words got you to relax and you sucked on his fingers again. Focussing on the weight and the feel of them on your tongue like he was not fingering you surrounded by dozens of people. No one is looking at me, you remembered his words and they felt safe. They felt true.

He kept moving his fingers, working you until three thick digits were stretching you further than you had ever been stretched before. Your walls were already fluttering around him and you could feel the wetness seeping down his hand.

“You're ready,” he stated, pulling his fingers from your pussy and your mouth. You were not sure which loss you mourned more.

You looked down between you, observing as he opened his pants, freeing his cock to your eyes. He was big, that was no surprise. But it was a surprise how thick he was. His shaft bobbed between you, the weight of it almost dropping him down.

How is that supposed to fit inside me? you wanted to ask How am I supposed to take this?

His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his shaft a few times and before you knew what you were doing, you reached out, your fingertips brushing over the head of him. He felt hot and soft. Paz groaned, the sound beautiful in your ears, and his hand reached for yours, helping your hand wrap around him.

Your fingers barely met around him and you let him guide your hand up and down his shaft, letting him direct the strength of your grip. “Stars, that feels good,” he murmured, moving so his cock bumped against your folds, running it through them again and again until it met your clit. You jerked at the touch, your pussy clenching.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands – literally – you continued to hold his cock, rubbing your thumb just under his head before grinding on top of him. The touch of him against your wetness was everything you needed as you started to rub yourself against him. Your breath came faster and you could feel how dripping wet and needy you were for him.

And Paz felt it too.

He seemed completely at ease and if it were not for his rock-hard erection between you, you would have wondered if he had been affected by you at all. But when you whimpered once again as his head rubbed over your clit, you could see his hand reaching for the little bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount of fluid on his fingers before reaching between you and spreading it on himself.

“You ready, omega?” he asked you and you could not nod quickly enough.

With a racing heart and a dripping pussy, you lifted yourself up to your knees, the wood of the bench digging into your joints. But you could not care less as your pebbled nipples pressed against the cold beskar of his armour and he leant back, allowing you to rest your weight onto him.

This position gave you almost all the control and you appreciated it. You appreciated it even more when his warm hand slipped under the dress covering your back, landing just above your butt.

“Go on,” he encouraged you, holding his shaft for you, his tip breaching your entrance as you first started lowering yourself into him.

“Oh shit,” you gasped, sinking down on him a little more, “A-alpha, you’re – you're –“

“Big, I know,” he teased you, his fingers digging into your back, “But you can take me, sweet omega, I know you can.”

And you did.

It took minuscule thrusts and encouraging hums paired with his thumb drawing circles into your skin but when you felt his thigh plates under your legs, you were fuller than ever before. Not even the toys you had to keep you company through your heat filled you like this.

And yet here you were, seated on the biggest cock you had ever taken, facing a faceless alpha whose hands had shifted to your hips, his fingers brushing circles into your skin as if he was just as in awe of what was happening as you were.

“There we fucking go,” he praised you, his voice gentle even through the helmet, “Look at you, taking such a big cock almost all the way.”

The glow of the fire was warm against your back. You felt tense and full, your body constantly trying to adjust to his size. With how your legs were spread around him, you felt like you were barely holding on and you did not know how you could possibly take him to the base.

Which was exactly what you said.

But Paz only chuckled, the sound warm and you sighed when one of his hands drifted up to your neck, brushing over your scent gland. Your back bowed in pleasure and you took a deep breath in, tilting your head so your nose could run over his wrist. His scent was spicy and comforting and you breathed in deeply, feeling your thighs relax.

The alpha beneath you made a soothing noise, his thumb brushing over your scent gland again, just enough to have you clenching on his cock.

“Relax, omega,” he whispered, his helmet tilting forward, “Relax for me.”

“Easier said than done,” you murmured, tightening your arms around him, “I’ve – stars, I’ve never felt so full.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” he rumbled and you snorted out a laugh. You could smell how pleased he was with himself for the joke and you leaned forward, burying your head in his neck and in his scent.

“I bet I can make you take it all the way,” he said, his hand on your back pushing you just a little bit closer.

“Feeling cocky, huh?” your joke ended in a hiss as you wiggled your hips, his cock shifting inside you.

“One could say that,” he rumbled, jerking his hips as if to prove his point, “So what do you say? Wanna take the bet?”

“What do I get if I win?”

“You get to come.”

“And if you win?”

“I get to make you come.”

“Seems like a win-win,” you gasped, trying your hardest to lift yourself up. Your legs were straining with the effort and despite how wet you were, he was big inside you and any movement felt like it would end you in the best way.

Paz put his hand between you, his fingertips gently circling your clit. Another hiss left your lips and you could feel your walls clamping around him. Or trying to clamp around him. He was so big it felt like all you could do was simply sit there and take whatever he gave you.

Another shift, You could feel his legs move beneath you and you squeaked in surprise when he spread them further apart, your weight suddenly no longer supported by his legs. You tightened your grip around his neck shifting just that much lower on his shaft that had your walls pulsing.

His big hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, helping you stay up. It took you a second to realize that he wanted you to relax like this, that he wanted to help carry your weight like this, and you frowned.

“Trust me,” he murmured as if he could read your mind, “Let me lead, omega, I promise it will feel good.”

Before you could protest, he started to move you, lifting you up until only the tip of him remained in you. Your fingers dug into his until you could feel the blood leaving your knuckles. But Paz did not let you fall. Instead, he slowly sank you down again, just a little bit, before lifting you up again.

You gasped out a breath, his slow and shallow thrusts opening you up for more. Soon, the first few inches did not feel like they could ever be enough and when you wriggled your hips in his grip he let you sink lower until you felt like there was nowhere left to go.

“See?” he whispered, grinding you down on his cock, your clit rubbing against him, “This is how you relax, omega, all you needed was a little help to take my cock all the way.”

“Alpha,” you whimpered, trying to get him to move, “Please – please –“

“You know what I think?” he asked you his voice cool as ever as he moved you on his cock, “I think you don’t even want to win the bet,” he revealed, the coolness of the beskar against your cheek, “I think all you want is to come on my fat cock and get all cock drunk on me.”

“I have,” you gasped, your body opening up for him even more, “I have never been cock drunk.”

“First time for everything,” he teased, his hands gripping the back of your thighs even tighter, “Now rub your pretty clit for me,” he instructed, “Let me work you on my cock and you get to come all over me, hm?”

It was not difficult to get your fingers on your pussy, working yourself into a frenzy that was only helped by the way he lifted you up and down on his cock like it was no work at all. You felt like a toy almost, in his hands, letting him move you this and that way so that his cock hit a spot inside you that made you see stars.

The squelching noises told you how wet you were and they made you even wetter still. It had never been like this for you, giving up the control of your pleasure and yet you did not want it to change. On the contrary, you wanted to revel in it.

You wanted to see how big he was inside you, wanted to see how he split you open, how small you were against him, how his knot would swell against you. The images made you clench around him and the man underneath you let out a grunt, his hips thrusting up against you.

His movement hindered yours and so you decided to relax against him, leaving everything completely up to him except for the fingertips working on yourself.

His thrusts were forceful and your tits bounced with the movement. Your fingers continued to circle your clit and you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to your release.

“Prettiest omega that ever sat on my cock,” he praised you, “I can already tell you were made to calm me. Made to take my cock.”

“Y-Yes,” you nodded eagerly, thinking of how the next days were going to be filled with nothing but taking his cock over and over and over again. Stars, you were lucky.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, working his, “Are you going to take my cock like a good little calmer? Sit on my knot all day? Take my come when I need you to?”

With your mouth open in a silent moan, you could only nod again. You had never felt like this before, this free and shameless. Like all that mattered was your pleasure and his because you felt like his pleasure would give you more than you had ever imagined.

The images his words caused in you made your walls pulse even more. You could see yourself spending most of your days just like this, full of his cock and breathing in his scent. Or kneeling between his legs, trying to swallow all the he could give you.

It was no surprise that with your fingers on your clit, his fantasies in your ears and his cock in your pussy, you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. And with the way his fingers tightened on you, he was close too.

“Want me to come inside you or on your face?” he asked, his voice sounding hoarse, “Or I could come on this pretty pussy? Make you play with it?”

“Inside,” you gasped, throwing your head back when his thrusts started to speed up, “Stars, please – please inside me.”

His groan slipped from under his helmet and when he hit a particular spot inside you, your vision went white. You could feel your walls spasm around him as pleasure rippled throughout your entire body. Everything tingled, from your head to your toes, and something shifted, like the world was suddenly … different.

Paz’s hands held you down on him, burying himself as deeply inside you as he could and as you sagged against him, your chest against his beskar chest, you could feel him pulse inside you.

He really was filling you to the brim.

Where before you had hardly been able to focus on what was going on around you, now you were only left with your heartbeat in your ears and the silence between you.

Hone hand swept over your back, up to the back of your neck and you leaned into his touch.

“How was that?” he asked quietly, his fingers once again seeking out that sensitive spot under your ear, “How are you feeling?”

You ran your nose over his scent gland, taking comfort in the smell that was already becoming familiar. The contact made him twitch inside you, again and again, and you swore you felt another spurt of come filling you.

“Tired,” you admitted against the fabric of his undershirt, “Tired and full and great and …” you trailed off, taking in another breath, “Good. I feel good.”

His body shook under yours in a warm chuckle. “I’m glad,” he replied, “Though it sounds like you need a good night’s sleep before the meetings tomorrow.”

“Sleep sounds good,” you mumbled, “Sleep sounds wonderful.”

“Let me get you to your bunk, then, love,” he whispered, gently untangling himself from you. “I will see you in the morning.”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #smut

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bluelikebruises · 3 months

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whispers of summer fervor || aegon ii targaryen

Aegon II Targaryen/TargaryenF!Reader summary: Fire and Blood—you were etched out of those great words. Born covered in a veil of maroon with the stench of death. A hollow child with sunken eyes kissed by the very fire that gave your family their power. When the dragon egg in your crib never hatched you were thrown into the dragon’s den. Ignited by a dragon who was not yours to claim, your skin holding the memories of your failure. The Cursed Targaryen Princess—without a mother, without a dragon, and maimed. Your misfortunes were a stain upon the tapestry of the Targaryen legacy. or Being the disgraced child of King Viserys and abandoned by your eldest sister pushes you into the arms of her opposition, leading to your support of Aegon’s claim. wc: 5.1k tw: slight ooc aegon, angst, rhaenyra is usurped, rhaenyra slander, daddy issues, mommy issues, viserys is a shity dad, burn scars, reader is born from aemma but skintone & physical features are never discussed, canon divergence, incest cause yknow targaryens, bastard slander, hints of misogyny

a/n: i usually write (or try to) a reader who is neutral to the whole blacks vs green, but not today! rhaenyra is the rightful heir—always—but for the sake of this fic she is not. also i’ve been neglecting completing my uni assignments to finish this lol, enjoy!!! p.s. not proofread

☆━━━━☆━━━━☆

Fire and Blood—the words of your House.

Fire and Blood—a warning to those who would ever think of opposing the Targaryen dynasty.

Fire and Blood—a declaration of war met with threats disguised as promises.

You were etched out of those great words. Born covered in a veil of maroon with the stench of death. A hollow child with sunken eyes kissed by the very fire that gave your family their power. When the dragon egg in your crib never hatched you were thrown into the dragon’s den. Ignited by a dragon who was not yours to claim, your skin holding the memories of your failure. The Cursed Targaryen Princess—without a mother, without a dragon, and maimed. Your misfortunes were a stain upon the tapestry of the Targaryen legacy.

A fate you were lucky enough to not shoulder alone, Aegon like you was born of your mothers blood. Born out of a desperate need to uphold old customs and beliefs. While his birth was celebrated it also split the Realm, whispers of his right as future king followed him throughout his life. The notions of king left heavy expectations for him to shoulder, expectations he never met, always falling short in one way or another. Resulting in his feverish drinking and promiscuity.

You are both young when you realize the shortcomings of your livelihoods. The drop in your father’s voice whenever he spoke of you. The frigid overcast that glazed over his eyes when his eyes set on you. The blatant favoritism he showed towards your much older sister—the tenderness in his eyes was a warmth you had never felt. His disdain leaked into your interactions; an uncomfortable shadow fell upon his brow whenever you were in his presence. As if your very being pained him, and how could it not? You were the walking reminder of his wife’s death, of his failure as not just a husband but a King.

Aegon knows the resentment his mother harbors towards him despite her denial. Her first born conceived of a loveless marriage. She had been a girl and made a monarch overnight and some months later a mother. She was robbed of her girlhood and tied to the crown forever and Aegon had been the first nail in her coffin. Aegon represented every sacrifice she had made and his constant rebellion felt like an insult to everything Alicent lost.

You understood one another, in ways many could not. Cut from the same cloth amalgamations of Targaryen indulgence, stubbornness, and passion. The least favored children of the King and Queen, bonded over neglect and resentment.

Years forged your attachment into blind fidelity, a sickly devotion that was rooted in your hearts like oaths. The world hardly existed outside the two of you and it didn’t stop for anyone without the Targaryen name. While many believed there were no exceptions to your coterie, they would find themselves proven wrong. For nearest and dearest to you was Helaena and Aemond, both as intertwined with one another as you and Aegon.

Though the four of you were close none of you shared an inkling of a relationship with your eldest sister. Rhaenyra had left for Dragonstone and never turned back, no word or ravens ever arrived in her stead.

When she had resided in the Keep she made no effort to hide her aversion towards you. She was a specter in your memory and marked as a heathen by the Queen. The Queen marked Rhaenyra a great many things and left a bitter child you swallowed her words like water.

It came to no surprise to anyone when the Queen announced that Vaemond Velaryon was bringing into question the validity of your nephew’s claim to Driftmark. After all Rhaenyra had done a very poor job of hiding her indiscretions.

━━☆━━

On the day of the trial you sit in front of the hearth dreading the affair that was to come. As the hours passed you prepared to become a part of the circus, another spectacle for the Lord and Ladies of the Kingdom to gawk at. Prying eyes were always trying to glimpse at your injury, trying to validate the whispers of gossip they had heard. They were children and you, a parable came to life—a reminder of how cruel the Gods could be. The Cursed Targaryen Princess who could not hatch or claim a dragon. A clear demonstration that even the Targaryens were exempt from their own fire.

Eyes followed you even when not a single body was around. They haunted you mercilessly. The constant feeling never allows you to inhabit your body comfortably. It was the reason many of your dresses had been tailored towards your lesions. Tailored towards the concealment of the damaged skin of your shoulder and upper arm.

Your dresses always had long sleeves even during the hot summers. The scars that could not be hidden with fabric were hidden by your hair. Never was your hair tied up or styled in extravagant fashion. It was only ever neatly placed out of your face in a simple manner.

With the sound of your chambers doors opening you surface from thought. Aegon steps into view, freshly bathed with his hair combed and wearing an exasperated look.

“The Keep is a mess” he says slumping down next to you. He throws his head back leaning uncomfortably on the divan

“Your sisters arrival warrants pageantry”

“Your sister” he clarifies

You scoff, Rhaenyra had not been your sister in years. She had always tried to marry you off to a Lannister or whatever Lord presented himself as willing. She thought you incompetent and arrogant, endowments she believed were smears of her mothers memory.

She was one to cast judgment, you’re sure Aemma would not have been keen on having illegitimate grandsons. What was the saying of House Arryn… As High as Honor. Bastards were anything but.

“Has she not summoned you?” he looks at you curiously

“She has,” you respond boredly. A servant had entered your chambers the day prior, her head tilted towards the floor as she spoke. Her timidness struck you as odd and instantly you knew she was one of Rhaenyra’s. With a smile you sent her back to her mistress, refusing to tangle yourself in her web.

Aegon smirks, “She is to be Queen and you deny her”

“She pedals falsehoods and you forget she is not Queen yet”

He laughs shifting in his seat, his eyes never leaving you. While you hated being watched, Aegon's gaze was different. He was never trying to pry you open or overzealous with morbid curiosity. He always regarded you with esteemed affection and tenderness.

After a long pause you say, “Is there something on my face?”

His stare doesn’t waiver and he doesn’t respond. It is rare when he forgets how bewitching you could be but when it strikes him, he is at a loss for words—overwhelmed by the realization. His eyes shine with novelty as if it is the first time he has ever laid eyes on you. As if you were the grand encompass of the ocean and he was ready to dive in.

You utter his name and he’s awoken from the spell he had been under.

He stands offering his hand, “We should take our leave now”

“You’ve never been one for punctuality” you tease and he smiles

“No, but I have been informed to behave. To present an image of regalness and grace” a laugh escapes his lips, “As if I am Aemond”

Now you laugh taking his hand, “He is much more regal than you”

Aegon clutches his chest just over his heart, feigning hurt, “You injure me”

With your arms laced together you set off to find Aemond and Helaena. It would have been improper for Aegon to enter without his wife and for you to show up in the arms of a married man—regardless if he was your brother. It was a rule the four of you rarely followed but today was not the day to deter away from customs.

Helaena is the first to spot you in the halls, Aemond is with her. A bright smile displayed on her face as she said your name. You can’t help but admire her, always effortlessly beautiful and far more intelligent than anyone gave her credit for. The picture of what women of your house were to be, beautiful, intelligent, and dragon riders. Everything you were not and though she did not hatch an egg she had claimed Dreamfyre. You should have been mad with envy but no such ill feeling ever came.

You loved her, perhaps no envy was born due to your ever present feeling of having to protect her. Of shielding her from the claws that embedded themselves into Keep. Destroying any sight of light or innocence. Fearing she would be treated like you had been.

You depart from Aegon to greet Helaena with a kiss on the cheek. Moving towards Aemond to do the same, he greets you with a compliment before extending his arm for you to take.

“Always so chivalrous” you say loud enough for Aegon to hear

━━☆━━

The hearing had gone to shit. Your father made a surprising appearance, Vaemond had died, Lucerys was still heir to Driftmark, and everything was as it had been the day before.

You stand beside Aegon and Aemond in the dining hall, the room is lit by candle light as chatter fills the air.

“What a waste of time” Aegon huffs

“Dinner or the hearing?”

“Both. Lucerys is still heir and Daemon suffers no consequences.”

Aemond chimes in, “Their breaths are an insult to everything we stand for”

You nod about to speak when the sound of the wooden door opening announces the arrival of the King. Quickly everyone settles to stand before their seats, seating only after the King is seated.

Your father greets everyone with a hoarse voice. He wears a golden mask on the rotten side of his face and he breathes as though it pains him.

“Prayer before we begin?” The Queen asks and he nods

Instantly your head is bowed, your hands are in your lap, and your eyes are closed. Prayer had become a daily ritual before dinner and it was always led by the Queen.

Before the prayer is over you feel the sensation of eyes on your skin. You think it to be one of your nephews but when the prayer is over you see it is Rhaenyra.

Her eyes are casted with an emotion you cannot read and they soon drop to your shoulder. Eyeing the scars that edged just above your shoulder and the base of your neck.

Feeling the scrutiny of her gaze, your hands find your hair moving it to disrupt her viewing. You had been judged by the vultures of the Seven Kingdoms, you would not allow Rhaenyra to do the same.

The expression on your face is clear, Rhaenyra has gotten to you.

Aegon notices your discomfort, notices how your hair now falls over your chest, and how your eyes are focused on the empty plate before you. Instantly he knows someone is to blame. He first assumes it to be Daemon, his uncle was crude and unceremonious. Having little regard for the people around him, not bothering with niceties.

But when he sees Rhaenyra attentively watching you—casting judgment—he knows it was her. Aegon almost laughs at her hypocrisy, as if she out of anyone had any right to look down upon others.

If his sister wanted something to look at, then he as a gracious brother would oblige in the only way he knew how, by causing a scene. The one thing Aegon was adept at was getting under people's skin, poking and prodding until they burst.

He leans towards Jacaerys spewing his obnoxious rambling. When his nephew bites back Aegon leans back in his chair reveling in the beginning of his antics.

The sound of wood scraping against stone makes you cringe, your father is standing removing his mask displaying the rot that has taken over the left side of his face. Eye’s are averted at the bare sight of the King’s face, but you are accustomed to seeing rotten skin. His teeth can be seen through his cheek, the muscle stretching and contracting as he speaks—it's a morbid sight.

He speaks of reconciliation and forgiveness but you pay him no mind. Besides you, Aemond keeps his eyes forward, Helaena has her eyes on the wooden table, and Aegon’s jaw is tight as he stares at his wine cup.

You spent the next couple of moments with your head in the clouds. Surfacing from thought when Rhaenyra toasts to the Queen, thanking her for looking after the King. You’re surprised when the Queen follows after, her kind words confound you. But you have no time to think them over as Aegon stands from his seat. Stepping between Jacaerys and Baela pouring wine into his cup.

Aemond looks suspiciously towards you but you had no answers to give him. When his eye leaves you the table shakes and Jacaerys stands as Aegon sits. With furrowed brows you look at Aegon who sips on his wine with ease.

The room falls silent and Aegon is reviling in the tension, trying not to smile triumphantly as he uses his cup as a shield.

The tension in the room grows thicker when Aemond stands. He’s looking at Jacaerys with the marksmanship of a hunter who had spotted their prey.

Eyes shift and concern is painted on the faces of almost everyone.

Jacaerys playfully hits his uncle on the shoulder, raising his cup as he smiles at Aemond, “To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth” Jacaerys pauses looking between his uncles, “And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles”

Across the table you see the snarky smiles of Jacaerys’ betrothed and Lucerys. Their smugness lights a flame in the furnace of your heart. You have half a mind to stand with Aemond, to show that their disrespect would not be tolerated.

“To you as well,” Aegon says

When Aemond sits you lean towards him, “Fucking miscreants”

“Vermin” he responds as Helaena stands.

She smiles excitedly holding her cup of wine, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon” she turns to them, “It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you, except sometimes when he’s drunk” she smiles

You let out a small laugh at her words. Aegon was rather whinny when drunk, he became a rambling needy mess who desperately wanted attention. And you were always there to give it to him in any shape or form that he needed it in.

Smiling, you raise your cup towards Helaena, “Hear, Hear”. The scarlet wine falls down your throat with ease and your moment of enjoyment is shortly ruined by an approaching Jacaerys.

His eyes are set on Helaena as he extends his hand asking her to dance. To your dismay she takes his hand without hesitation. You’re staring daggers at the Prince, indignation replaces the taste of wine in your mouth. Helaena was far too kind for the world.

Aegon’s eyes catch yours before he looks at Jacaerys dancing with his wife, disbelief and annoyance clear in his face.

In one swift motion you move to stand beside Aegon, “The apple does not fall from the tree” you glare at the hazel haired prince, expecting a response from Aegon but you get none. Confused, you turn towards Aegon only to find him gazing across the table. He’s quiet as he sips from the cup in his hand watching Rhaenyra laugh and talk with their father. Viserys is smiling and coughing through his laughter and it is the most alive he has been in years.

“She arrives and suddenly he can will himself to walk and attend supper” he says only for you to hear

You look up towards the sight of his words—your father and Rhaenyra and you understand. His jab was not said out of anger but out of a feeling of lacking. All the traits and characteristics Rhaenyra had that he did not, the love of their father she had that he did not.

“You’re jealous”

He turns towards you, “Are you not?”

“No”, you lie

“She’s father’s favorite”, he’s looking up at you through his lashes, “I’m the son he killed for and it is not enough”

You avert your gaze, his words struck like an arrow. A part of you had always felt responsible for the birth of Aegon. At fault for the death of your mother, the death of your brother, and the birth of Aegon. If you had not been a butcher, if you had been a boy his burden would be yours.

“You didn’t kill anyone Aegon” you sip wine solemnly, your posture falters, and your head is half hung.

Aegon notices your somber spirit and his eyes soften realizing the error in his words, “I’m sorry, I meant no offense”

“I know”, is all you say returning to your seat

As the night passes you eat and make conversation with Aemond. For most of the night his eye is set on the dancing prince and princess. Occasionally when he looks at you his lips pull upwards in a smile.

After your father retires for the night, servants enter with more food. A cooked pig is laid out before you and before you can think Aemond’s fist hits the table as he stands.

“Final tribute”

All eyes fall on Aemond and the room goes quiet.

“To the health of my nephews. Jace…Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” he pauses and it is as if all the air in the room has been cast out, “strong”

Your eyes widen in shock as the Queen pleads with Aemond.

“Come let us drain our cups to these three…strong boys”

“I dare you to say that again”

Aemond turns towards Jacaerys, “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment”, they both walk towards one another, “Do you not think yourself strong?”

Lucerys rises from his seat as Jacaerys strikes Aemond, Aegon is not far behind grabbing his nephew and slamming him against the table.

Bolting upwards you grab Helaena pulling her away from the chaos. She grips your hand tightly frightened by the scene.

“Are you alright?” you ask

She nods, “Yes but Aemond” her hand points at the exiting prince. Understanding, you pull Helaena, following Aemond.

Once you’re in the halls you follow the sounds of Aemond’s steps, Helaena runs towards him. She latches onto the side of his arm soothing the riled prince. You’re about to do the same when laughter echoes from beyond the hallway—Aegon.

Grabbing the side of your dresses you hold it up allowing yourself quicker movements. With your approach the shadow of Aegon grows smaller and his laughter grows louder.

You say his name as you grab his arm. When he lays his eyes on you they widen excitedly, your name falls from his lips, “You are a vision. Have I told you that? Come, come, let us retreat into our burrow”. He gives you no time to respond as he throws an arm around you and leads you away.

The burrow was a small unfinished room at the far end of the Keep that had been hidden by a suit of armor; it had been discovered by Aegon when he was ten and two. Immediately he ran to inform you about it, dragging you into the room. It is not large like either of your chambers but it’s spacious enough that both of you can move without bumping into one another. Rugs and sheets hung throughout the floor and walls hiding the decaying walls. Bottles of wine littered the room, both empty and full.

Aegon is drunkenly rambling, as you make sure there is no one around to see you gently push past the suit, “”Twas only a compliment” he mimics Aemond’s voice.

Sitting near the corner of the room you grab a bottle and Aegon moves towards you. He rests his head against your lap spilling wine into your dress, not that you cared. He’s laughing recalling the events of the night.

With a laugh you respond, “Jacaerys’ stance was laughable, he looked like a child throwing a tantrum”

“He is to be King”, his laugh dies as the sentence leaves his lips, “He is to be King”

You both grow quiet, the words weigh heavy over the both of you. The realities of a future that is so close to becoming reality. If you were believed to be a stain on the Targaryen legacy, Rhaenyra's children were desecrations to the Targaryen dynasty.

“Perhaps your mother is right,” you sip from the bottle of wine not fully thinking about the words as you speak, “Perhaps you should be King”

Aegon half laughs, pushing himself into a sitting position, “You speak of treachery”

“Your mother says—”

“My mother is crazed on a notion that we will be slain”

You wish you could believe him, but the image of your sister's husband swinging his sword without mercy does not leave your mind. How easy it would be for Rhaenyra to rid herself of you once she is Queen; there were fates far worse than death.

“Enough talk of foreboding futures. Let us drink ourselves blind”

“Hear! Hear!” you eagerly agree

True to Aegon’s words you both drink until your visions are blurred and the room spins. You both dance and drink carelessly, laughing as though the events of the night had no effect on you. It comes as no surprise when Aegon leans towards you and presses his lip on yours. The kiss is sloppy and full of hunger, your teeth clash and tongues swipe over one another. There’s a desperation in his hands—in the way he holds your face obstructing any movement. In the heat of passion you bite his bottom lip earning a yelp from Aegon.

He pulls away with a smile, “Ow”

Your hand rest on his chest playfully, “Don’t be a child, I didn’t draw blood”

The rest of the night blurs into a giant mirage of jubilation.

━━☆━━

As the sun rose you wake with a yawn, your body aching from the uncomfortable position it had been in all night. Your head had been on Aegon’s lap and his arm had been thrown over your body. Maneuvering from his embrace you press your back firmly on the brick wall, your head throbbing feeling as though it had been repeatedly bashed.

The sun’s rays kiss your cheeks, it's warm and gentle and for a brief moment the world around you falls into obscurity. Nothing else matters beside the sun’s golden touch and the beating of your own heart.

The body besides you grumbles and your moment of serenity shatters as Aegon slowly stirs into consciousness. You’re brought back into the arms of reality.

“Wine,” he says, “More wine”

You don’t waste your breath, instead you make your way to your chambers. Stumbling the first few steps out of the room. Peeking your head out of the door way you make sure there is no one around before exiting.

Walking down the corridors there is an air of urgency within the Keep. There were twice as many Knights as you were accustomed to seeing and servants hurried into the direction of the Great Hall. Regardless you carry on, not bothering to greet any of the people who greeted or called after you.

Approaching the hallway to your chambers you’re unexpectedly faced with the sight of your wooden doors wide open. Stepping closer you see three figures standing at the center of your room; Aemond, Ser Criston, and the Queen.

Puzzlement rests on your brow, what had transpired in the hours you and Aegon had disappeared. As you continue your approach you can see the faces of your visitors all displaying an array of emotions.

“Your Grace,” Ser Criston states as you walk through the threshold, “The Princess”

The Queen turns towards you instantly, wasting no time in embracing you, “Oh sweet girl”

Her embrace wasn’t foreign but the sudden action confuses you further.

“Where have you been? Where is Aegon?” she pulls away but keeps her hands on your arms

You looked towards Aemond trying to find any answers on his face but there were none.

“I’ve just left Aegon. Has something happened?”

“Where is he?” The Queen’s grip on your arm tightens. Desperation is in her eyes and it frightens you, enough that you decided to keep Aegon's whereabouts to yourself for the time being.

“We snuck out of the Keep last night. Upon returning to the castle Aegon left my side”

She turns towards her sworn Knight an unsaid order ushering him quickly from your chambers, Aemond follows suit.

When they’re gone you repeat your question, “Has something happened?”

“Your father is dead, he died in his sleep”

Her voice was grave and her words echo in your mind but you can’t decipher them. It’s as if you have lost the ability to comprehend the common tongue.

A moment passes and you realize what your step mother had said. Silently you wait for grief but it never arrives, there is no sadness in your heart, no invading sorrow. Your father is dead and you shed no tears for his memory.

“I–I need a moment,” you pull away but before you can leave the Queen pulls you towards her. Her hand is under your chin lifting your head just enough to meet her gaze.

Her eyes are round and full of distress, “You know where Aegon is, I beg of you, bring him to me. It was the King’s dying wish. Do not let my father get his hands on him first”

You nod and hurriedly walk out of your chambers, returning to your burrow. The throbbing in your head returns but you try to disregard the discomfort, there were far more pressing matters.

The closer you got towards Aegon the faster your move, breaths of air forcibly escape as enter through the hidden door. You thank the Gods when you see Aegon in the same position he had been when you left. You rush to his side, dropping to your knees shaking him.

“Aegon, Aegon. Wake up, Wake up”

He groans and his speech is slurs. Letting his arms go, he slouches into a half sitting position half laying. His eyes flutter open for a moment and your name falls from his lips.

“‘Tis me,” you cup the cheeks of his face almost painfully. He tries to move away from you but you do not yield, “Aegon, father is dead”

You watch your words register in his mind. He blinks his eyes open and takes a breath, pushing you aside.

“Your jest are not appreciated, my head is murderous”

“It is no jest, the King died in his sleep”

Like you had with the Queen, Aegon takes a moment, his eyes are wide looking through you making sense of your words.

“Father is dead” he repeats. His hand passes through his hair, a look of distress clear on his sunken face

“Yes and your mother and grand feather are searching for you”

“For me? What could they want—”

Realization hits you both like a strong gust of wind, knocking all the air out of the room. The line of succession crosses your mind for the first time. You had thought nothing of the Queen’s words about your fathers dying wish but you understood them now. Of course, the Keep was in disarray because the Hand was trying to sit Aegon on the throne before news of the King’s death spread.

“They mean to crown you”

Crowning Aegon would be treason and all those who participated would be punished with death. The idea does not frighten you as much as the idea of Rhaenyra on the throne. You’d surely be sent away, sold off to be the pretty little Targaryen wife of Lord who’d defile you. And the realm would fall to pieces with a spiteful malicious woman at its helm.

Aegon looks at you horrified, “No. They can’t. I am not heir”

“That does not matter, it was the King’s dying wish to have you succeed him”

“On whose word?”

“Your mother’s”

Aegon scoffs, “She is crazed, fuelled by her hatred for Rhaenyra”

“You may think her crazed, but your mother is a woman of the Gods, she would not lie about a matter of this caliber”

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly. His back is against the wall, he looks disheveled, dirty, and disarranged. Tears swell in his eyes and he swipes them away with his sleeve.

“A dying wish he had years to fulfill”

“I know not the whims of old Kings, but I know regret. It is clear in the words he spoke to your mother that he wanted you on the throne, his first born son”

“What kind of brother would I be to take the throne from Rhaenyra?”

“By the law of Gods and Men the throne is yours. You cannot steal what is rightfully yours”

“I do not want the throne” he argues

“Aegon” you plead

“No! I will not take it,” swiftly his hand grab yours, “Let us climb on board a ship escape to Essos or on dragonback—”

You interrupt his crazed thoughts squeezing his hands, “Listen, Rhaenyra only cares for her own, she has never cared for us. If you let her ascend the throne what will come of your mother? Of Aemond? Of Helaena and your children? ” you pause, “Of me? She sees my existence as blasphemous and yours as opposition. If we leave we are leaving those we love to die. Ascend the throne Aegon, protect us”

Silence encompassed the room, Aegon ran his eyes over your face searching for answers, trying to understand what was being asked of him and if he could undertake such a task. You return his gaze with soft eyes and gentle hands.

He had never thought himself a leader let alone a King. He did not want the pressures and responsibilities of leading an entire land. Aegon would no longer be able to hide under his title of prince, as King. He would have to be the picture of Targaryen greatness and regalness—heavy is the head that wears the crown. He wants to laugh at the notion but his chest is heavy with your words.

“Do you understand?” there’s a desperate edge in your voice and he doesn’t respond, “Aegon, do you understand?”

“Yes,” he nods

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