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kookslastbutton · 1 year

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Loverboy ༓ kth (m)

✑ Summary: After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

Pairing: taehyung x reader

AU/Genre: fluff, smut, angst, established relationship

Word Count: 7,177

Warnings: feat. Jimin and Tannie, body insecurity (including some self-deprecation but nothing toooo bad), sexual insecurity, a hint of marriage insecurity, catty coworkers (one who wants your bf! 😠), swearing, social drinking, and explicit sexual content

Sexual warnings: oh where do I start? dom!taehyung, sub!reader, two smut scenes, praise kink, asking for consent, lingerie, foggy glasses, reader is on pill, f*ngering in the kitchen, oral (f.), d*rty talk, making out, tiny bit of breastplay, m*ssonary (legs over shoulders and then around waist), hand holding while c*ming bc I'm a sap, slight begging kink, back kisses, cuddling, taehyung calls oc sl*t once but all other times he is calling her beautiful, baby, etc., lots of neck kisses, oc does her best to initiate, if I have overlooked some my apologies....these are the main ones though.

Now Playing: UP by J. Valentine (thanks to tae's live 😳)

A/N: I've been have crazy tae fever 😅 once again my pwp's turn into fluffy one-shots hahah with smut ofc. Anyway please enjoy 🥰 fyi oc isn't a virgin nor shy generally speaking, but she's nervous about her sexual abilities.

The last ten minutes of work on Fridays are possibly the best moments of your life.

And it’s all thanks to an unspeakably gorgeous man with ruffled ebony hair, perfectly plump cherry lips, and a seductive tiger-like gaze. The faint mole on his nose is wicked cute too and when he puts his reading glasses on–oh fuck.

Of course, you’re referring to your boyfriend, Taehyung. You accidentally bumped into him while he was taking his Pomeranian for a walk four months ago; leading to the messiest (yet cute) first date ever. Now, he and Tannie come over to your apartment every weekend for snuggles under your cozy fleece blankets.

TGIF right?

But while Friday nights typically consist of snuggling with two goofs, it means getting hammered at the bar downtown to your coworkers. You don’t typically take up their invites to join but tonight you were guilt-tripped into it. Something about chumming with the gossipy group rather than being on their blacklist for the seventh rejection in a row was more appealing—they can be a vicious bunch.

Taehyung wasn't off work for another hour or two anyway, leaving you with a decent amount of time to kill. So why not appease the peanut gallery for a few?

“It’s my two-year anniversary with Eun-woo,” one of your coworkers, Ji-won, pipes up after taking a sip of her Cosmopolitan. She swirls the glass in her hand before setting it down on the table. Ji-won works in the finance department and is absolutely gorgeous. Her skin is clear, has honey-colored eyes, and possibly the best body proportions a woman can have. Her personality is no joke either and her laugh? Infectious. Everyone who comes across her either wants to marry her or be her best friend.

The cynical part of you wants to dislike her but it’s impossible–that’s how charismatic she is.

“Oh my god, congratulations babe!” Another coworker of yours reaches over and pulls the woman into a tight squeeze, giggling at the news. Suzy also works in the finance department and the pair are the best of friends. “I can’t believe how well it’s been going between you and Eun-woo! What are you doing to celebrate? You have to tell me!” She grabs her friend's shoulders and shakes her.

Unlike Ji-won, Suzy is much more energetic and eager to know the details of everyone’s lives. Nosy in other words. But despite her invasiveness, she manages to attract a great number of suitors as well; taking nearly half of them home with her every night. Suzy has beautiful bone structure and to get to the point, she’s naturally very sexy.

You don’t feel the same way towards her as you do with Ji-won; you dislike her quite a bit. The main reason is that she has an insane crush on your boyfriend and shamelessly flirts with him whenever he’s around. She’s told you many times before that if anything happened between you two, to let her know. She masks it as a joke to lighten the blow but god, you don’t like calling people a bitch but if the shoe fits.

“We’re taking a short weekend trip to Jeju Island,” you hear Ji-won’s silky voice reply, cheeks growing rosier with each word. “I think he might propose to me but I’m so nervous.” Her fingers move to grip her Cosmopolitan; raising it to her ruby-red lips to take another sip.

“That’s so wonderful,” you start, downing a shot yourself. The burn of the alcohol rolling down the back of your throat serves as an excellent distraction from your personal worries about marriage. You love the idea but would anyone stay with you for life?

Your relationship with Taehyung has been going swimmingly well, with the occasional fight here and there, but you haven’t been together nearly long enough for a proposal to come into the picture. Maybe someday but you can’t afford to jump ahead of yourself.

“Jeju Island will be perfect for you both. You’re like a couple straight from the Hallmark movies,” you continue with an encouraging smile. “You be sure to tell us if he really does propose though. What hint did he give to cause your suspicions?”

Ji-won chuckles and tucks some of her hair behind an ear. “We were packing for the trip last night and I saw him sneak a small jewelry box into his bag. I didn’t say anything because I thought maybe I was seeing things but when I thought about it later, I don’t think I was wrong.”

Once again, Suzy grips the poor woman’s arm to tug it out of excitement. “Please tell me I get to plan the bachelorette party! I’ll hire only the best strippers for you babe, as long as you want them of course. Oh, I’m just so crazy about this! Weddings are my heart and soul!”

After watching the scene unfold in front of you a grimace spreads on your lips. “Weddings are your heart and soul?” you repeat as a question, trying to withhold your judgment. “Last I knew you weren’t the fondest of happily ever afters.”

“That’s a good point!” A fist suddenly pounds on the table. You all look toward the source; your third coworker Mina who’s already borderline drunk. Mina is your IT specialist and after so much HTML and Python, her brain is utterly fried. Similar to you, she started dating someone about six months back except he’s been on an overseas business trip for the past week.

“Suzy,” she points at the woman whose eyes widen at the stark gesture. “You sleep around, right? So __’s right that you don’t actually like fairytale weddings.” Her words slur a bit due to her drunken state.

Across the table, Suzy rolls her eyes and shrugs. “For myself yeah, but not for other people. I’m not against weddings entirely.” She leans towards Ji-won with hopeful eyes. “By the way, if you need help picking out what underwear to bring with you on your trip, just say the word.”

Ji-won’s previous blush returns fourfold at the offer. “Thanks but I have that under control.”

“Oh good,” she praises, waving her margarita around in her hand. “It’d be an atrocity if you didn’t. Lingerie is the cherry on top for keeping your sex life spicy, and if you didn’t have any I’d drag all of us to the store right now. __ agrees with me.” She winks. “Her and Taehyung must have gone through tons of sets by now.”

What. The. Fuck.

When did Ji-won’s potential engagement turn into a poke into your sex life?

You choose to ignore the comment entirely.

Not that she needs to know but you and Taehyung have recently started becoming very active in the bedroom; you're never in the same position twice. Even began getting down and dirty in the back seat of his car (...if he isn’t the biggest experimentalist you’ve dated then you don’t even know your own name).

But while it's been wild in the bedroom, lingerie isn’t an area you’ve explored yet.

You know, it sounds crazy. Surely a couple that's open to a whole list of kinks and positions would dabble in something as basic as lacy underwear.

It's not the case here.

Truth is you're timid of the whole idea; of purposefully seducing someone with your body. Would you be so bold? No, even if you are interested to try it out, you'd shy away within the first ten seconds.

Yes, you've recently become sexually active with your boyfriend but 90% of the time it's him who's doing the initiating. The subtle hand on your thigh or kiss on your neck while you're trying to wash the dishes—he's truly evil with that one.

Not to mention that Taehyung has your clothes ripped off before you can blink so what's the point of buying expensive, itchy lingerie?

Atrocity or not, you have your reasons.

"Well?" The sound of Suzy's nagging tone brings you out of your daze. She stares you down with piercing eyes, demanding a reply.

You merely shrug and take another shot.

Sorry, but you're not really into the whole swapping sex stories with the woman who wants to sleep with your boyfriend.

Suzy gives a small huff when she realizes you aren't talking. "So anyway..." she turns to the other two. "Sex is boring without a proper lace set. Or silk if that's more your thing. I have at least twenty in my draw." She takes the lime from the rim of her glass and plops it into her margarita proudly.

You're mid-eye roll when you hear Mina shouting in agreement. "Hell yeah, it's boring! I just got a new set the other day for a video call I'm having with my boyfriend tomorrow night." A round of oohs is given before she continues. You on the other hand listen intently. "Ever since he's been away in England at his conferences, it's been like a heaven sent to keeping our sex life alive."

Ji-won nods. "I wasn't sure how it would go the first time I wore lace for Eun-woo. Once I did, we never went back. It gave me a sense of power to take the lead too, which most men find really hot. It gets tiring when they have to do all the work all the time."

The girls chuckle together while your mind reels. Taehyung's never had a problem with you being in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants before fucking you silly. But then again, it's not like you've ever asked him.

Your face flushes at the thought—you've never actually asked if he wanted more.

Is he actually happy with the sex?

Should you be doing more for him like wearing lacy underwear or a maid outfit (or whatever's in these days)?

Maybe he isn't satisfied at all but tolerates it because he loves you. Sex isn't the only part that matters in a relationship you know.

Still.

It's an important one.

And if a few pieces of lace are seemingly such a necessity as your coworkers attest...then you're fucked.

Ji-woo places a gentle hand on your shoulder and furrows her eyebrows in concern. "You feeling okay? This is the second time you've zoned out in twenty minutes."

"Oh my god," Suzy gasps, hand covering her mouth. "It makes sense now. You haven't had sex with Taehyung yet have you?!" Her eyes smile at you devilishly as she bites down a grin. This woman seriously needs to get a hobby other than obsessing over your boyfriend.

"Actually," you drawl, scooting your chair backward until you're able to get up. "We have multiple times and we don't plan on stopping. He's coming to my place in an hour or so where he'll gladly fuck me wherever we please. I gotta head out for that now but see you all Monday."

You hurry away from the group as quick as you can, fully aware of their eyes burning holes in the back of your neck and jaws dropping in shock. Why did you say that __? Fuck it.

You feel unwell.

For the next hour and a half, you're restless; pacing around the house in search of meaningless tasks to do. Cleaning usually helps in these situations, though it's proving quite useless this time.

Are you a good sex partner?

Does he secretly wish you'd take the riegns more?

You fluff the living room pillow and toss it on the couch. Stupid. It's all stupid but you can't shake it.

When your boyfriend finally arrives at your place, you take a deep breath before throwing the front door open.

"Hi baby, how was your d—"

As soon as Taehyung strolls inside and sets Tannie down on your apartment floor, you grab the collar of his shirt and press your lips firmly on his. He's surprised at your boldness yet not the slightest disappointed given the hands that smoothly settle around your hips.

"I missed you," you say desperately, walking him back into your kitchen island. Taehyung grunts when the small of his back hits the edge.

"I missed you more."

He shoves his tongue into your mouth, drawing out a sweet moan from your lips. His favorite is when you gasp, hips bucking into his. So with subtle fingers, he untucks your blouse from your pants to trace up the expanse of your back. His cool fingers cause you to shiver as he does this; not because you're chilly but because of the growing anticipation inside you.

As Taehyung runs his large palms up and down your bare back, you card through his soft, fluffy hair. He knows how messed up you enjoy making it. That and it's typically a sign that you're extremely turned on; yearning for him.

He'll gladly take either.

"Oh!" You yelp when he spins you around until it's your back against the counter. An unexpected giggle comes out of you upon seeing his glasses foggy from your mid-make-out session. You do the honors of removing them from his face and carefully set them on the counter. "Hi handsome," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

Taehyung lowers his head to nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, placing several feather-like kisses along the ridge. "Beautiful," he returns your greeting, smokey eyes lifting back up to meet yours. "Wasn't prepared to be kissed like that."

"Did you like it?" You bite your lip which most definitely does nothing to tame the growing erection in his trousers. Taehyung brings a thumb up to your lower lip and swipes across it lightly before pushing it into your mouth.

"I liked it a little too much." His voice drops a few octaves as he watches you suck on the digit. He'd rather have it be his big cock but it's all about the build-up. "I was trying to be a good boyfriend and ask about your day but all you seem to want is to get dicked down on your kitchen counter. Is that all that's on your mind tonight baby? To spread your legs like a dirty girl?"

You whine and rub your thighs together but he prys them apart with his knee. He then moves to unbutton your pants, watching for a nod in consent.

"Please Tae," you say once he retracts his thumb from your mouth, giving a brief nod. "Been waiting all week for you to touch me."

"Shit." Taehyung makes quick work of your pant button and unfastens the zip. He then dips his fingers into your underwear to glide across your folds. "You want me to touch you here baby? Stick my fingers in you and make you come around them?" He teases, obvious that you're wetter than the Pacific Ocean; you could probably take him all right here and now if he desired.

"Yes, put them in," you beg, bucking your hips into his hand. "Please, can't wait much longer."

He smirks at your neediness and begins to sink two of his fingers into your wet pussy, just the tips. "How's this? Can you come like this? You're so wet I bet you can."

You shake your head, inches from snarling at him. "More. Need your whole finger in me to come. Baby—"

As soon as you drop the 'B' word Taehyung pushes his fingers into you, all the way to the knuckle. The loud gasp you let out reminds him of how far his fingers can actually reach; sometimes he forgets how long and slender they are.

His pace is steady from the start, fingers pumping in and out of you as he watches your head fall back further and further in pleasure.

"Fuck," he swears and quickens his speed, curling his fingers to properly stimulate your sweet spot. "I can feel your pussy clenching and throbbing already. Come whenever you want okay?"

"Uh," you answer in a pant, sweat lining across your forehead as your body jerks back and forth.

"Mm that's it," he coos. "Can't even talk can you? That's okay, focus on how my fingers are making you feel. Good right?" He continues thrusting inside of you, loving how you've started riding his fingers in an attempt to make yourself come faster.

"F-feels amazing Tae!" You moan as the peak of your high inches closer and closer. To help get you off, Taehyung circles his thumb over your clit and latches his lips to the side of your neck.

"You wanna come?" He taunts between kisses and you reply with a breathy 'yes'. Taehyung smirks and nibbles on your ear, licking the shell of it a little until finally, you come all over his fingers.

"Such a dirty slut," he says, slipping his fingers out of you and cleaning them off. He kisses you afterward while his hands work to remove your blouse. Once he has the material pushed off your shoulders he kisses a hot trail down to your collarbone.

Taehyung reaches behind your back to unclasp your bra next but then, he feels your body suddenly tense up. It's not a good tense-up either, it's stiff and uncomfortable.

"You okay beautiful?" He stops all movements and puts his hands on either side of you, caging you between him and the counter. "Did I go too far? Shit I'm sorry if I did, you can tell me."

You shake your head fervently, rejecting the idea. "No, you didn't do anything." You then glance down at yourself in your plain black underwear; nothing fancy. All at once the conversation with your coworkers floods your thoughts again and you feel silly for letting it consume you but it does, it bothers you.

"Taehyung I—" you choke on your words as you watch your boyfriend's previously playful face turn into one of worry. You glance down at your hands and chuckle, feeling bad that you just ruined the mood. "I really need your dick in me, let's just get back to it." You move to kiss him but he doesn't let you.

"Hold on a second. I know that laugh," he says, looking deep into your eyes. "Something's bothering you."

"Oh no, I was just thinking that you must be really hard right now so—" You wave your hands about but he grasps them into his, softly.

"Stop. My dick can wait. What's going on?"

You sigh and allow your shoulders to slump a little. "Its nothing, Tae."

"Which means it's absolutely something." He takes the initiative to lift you on the counter; into a seated position and you know, you're not getting out of this until you tell him what's up.

A good 30 seconds of silence pass with him patiently waiting for you to say something, anything. Taehyung's about to prod a little more until you blurt it out all at once.

"Am I sexy? I mean, we have sex but are you...satisfied? Are there fantasies you haven't told me yet? And what about lingerie? You know I haven't worn any of that so...am I boring? Is it boring to have sex with me? Because I can wear that stuff if you want...if you like it I mean."

Taehyung's mouth gapes open at you, baffled by what he's just heard. It takes him a few moments to gather his thoughts; the last thing he wants is to be an idiot and reply dumbly.

"I'm sorry," he starts and rubs soothing circles on your hands. "I don't know where to start. Of course, you're sexy, you're my angel. And boring? This coming from the woman who makes me hard just by looking at her?"

"Tae I know that–"

"I love you," he continues. "And I love all the things your pussy does to me. There's nothing you need to do, wear, or say for those to be true. Now who gave you the idea that you're boring? Was it me? Shit, it was me wasn't it?"

"No! It wasn't." Your fingers tighten in his hold, eyebrows raising in slight alarm. "I was out with some girls from work and they said that lingerie is the cherry on top for keeping sex spicy. They also said that sex is boring without it and that a woman should take charge in the bedroom so her partner isn't doing all the work."

"Well, that's bullshit."

"Taehyung! You're not taking this seriously."

"I am baby. I promise I am. But since when did fabric define a healthy, thriving sex life? We fuck all the time without lingerie and last I checked we both come. And you know why? Because we're made for each other and we have really great sex. I'm not one to blab about our sex life to others but if I did, everyone would be jealous. Especially of me, because I'm with a literal angel. So not to belittle your coworkers but they're a little narrow-minded."

The faintest smirk pulls at the corner of your boyfriend's lips as he slowly dances his fingers along your waist. "By the way, I would happily do all the work. I aim to please as you know. And taking charge isn't a problem for you seeing as you practically jumped me two seconds from walking into the door. Poor Tannie is scarred for life now. I think he ran into your bedroom."

"Stop," you allow a chuckle, feeling the tension lighten from his joke. "Tannie's seen a lot worse, I'm sure. He just likes my fluffy comforter. Little dog has high standards just like his daddy."

"It's true, I spoiled him too early." Taehyung's grin spreads like oil across his face and you smile as well, not as wide as his but enough that the mood picks back up. "Back to what we were talking about though. I don't want you to think that you're not giving me enough okay? Maybe for your coworkers, sex is different for them and fair enough, they have their own relationships to maintain. But, as long as you're alright with how we're doing, both in and out of the bedroom, then we're perfectly fine."

"So..." You pause to take in the drastic difference in opinion. "You don't want me to wear a sexy lace set or something? What about a ribboned bodysuit? I've seen those becoming more and more popular because they show–"

"Yes, I–I'm aware of the variety out there." He wets his lips, thumbs pressing into your delicate skin harder. "I won't lie in saying I wouldn't love seeing you in a set or two, but I think it's up to you. Because the only thing I need is for you to be comfortable, whether it's in an oversized t-shirt and baggy sweats or naked on this countertop. You're stunnimg to me either way because it's you in front of me and no one else."

"I love you Tae," you sigh and lean into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist to bring him near. Naturally, his crotch brushes against yours as he inches to stand between your parted legs. "Wow, you're still hard?" You snort, feeling his very obvious bulge.

Taehyung kisses the top of your head. "Yes, you'll be surprised at how long I can last with a boner."

A week after your conversation with Taehyung and getting possibly the best fuck of your life on your kitchen island, you find yourself at the mall with your favorite pink-haired boy; Park Jimin. You and Jimin have been close since college and when you say there are no secrets between you, you mean it.

Jimin is also a fashion mogul which is why he's insisted he tag along with you on your search for new clothes. Due to the coolness of the season, you're in need of some warm fall clothing. He prefers you look for something from Dior or Chanel but you put a stop to that; your bank account doesn't have the funds to support that joy ride just yet.

"My grandma's sweater looks better." You hear your best friend sass for the twentieth time behind you. "Put it back __."

"No." You throw the hanger with the baby blue cardigan over your arm and continue browsing through the sale rack. "I happen to like this one, you snob."

The man instantly slaps a hand over his heart as if mimicking being shot. "So rude when I'm just trying to save you from a fashion disaster. If my assistance isn't needed then I might as well go over to the men's section and take a look at the new cufflinks I saw on the way in."

You give your eyes a roll and if you did it once more, they'd get stuck up there. "Fine by me, you've been gawking at them the entire time we've been here. I thought you didn't dwell with the commoners Mr. Only-Buys-Designer-Staight-From-The-Runway-Itself."

"Well, what can I say," Jimin snaps and heads for the other side of the store. "We all have faults. It just so happens that my new partner prefers these kinds of cheap renditions over classic Prada cufflinks."

"Aww poor Chim," you holler after him. "Maybe gift him a pair for Christmas to help break him in?"

"Tried that for his birthday and it was a major fail __. But it's all good because I'm saving that gift for someone else."

You freeze at the questionable choice of words. "And who's that?" you ask. Jimin whips his head over a shoulder and smiles sweetly.

"Your boyfriend. Did you forget he also loves designer?"

"Oh yeah, right. Thanks, Jimin." You hold out the baby blue cardigan, observing it once more. Maybe you shouldn't get this? Not that it matters to Taehyung what you wear either but....maybe it does look old ladyish.

"Hey," your best friend strides over to you again with a softened expression. "Everything alright between you two?"

"Everything's great, you just got me thinking of something is all. I recently had a small talk with him last night about, you know, our bedroom situation."

Though your voice is lowered Jimin understands you clearly. You confide in him a lot so of course he knows about all your personal challenges; the ins and outs of you. He's known about your hesitations towards lingerie and intimacy long before Taehyung came into the picture.

"Oh shit," he swears under his breath. "What did he say?"

You proceed to retell him the highlights of last week's conversation; how sensitive Taehyung was to you and how he told you it's up to you if you want to bring lingerie into the mix. Jimin nods along.

"So what about you then? Do you want to explore the endless realm of lacy bodysuits, transparent bras and panty sets, garters, and aisles of naughty roleplay outfits to fulfill your sexual fantasies or no?"

"Damn, no wonder that lingerie store you worked at straight out of college didn't want you to leave. Anyway, I was thinking about giving it a try but I'm still unsure. It's not that I don't want to or that Taehyung's pressuring me–I still just feel really nervous."

"Here's a thought then." Jimin hums aloud. "What if we went to an underwear store and you tried on a few things? You don't have to buy any of it or take any home to show off. It'll be an experiment of sorts."

You ponder the idea and it doesn't sound half bad. Low commitment right?

"Okay. I think there's a Victoria's Secret on the second floor."

"Oh no no," the man shakes his head as if amused by your cuteness. "We're going somewhere a little more special than that."

"Jimin! Help please!" You holler from inside the dressing room of one the poshest boutiques you've been in. Turns out the place you've been dragged to is a high-end underwear store called Delilah's. You were beyond skeptical of the price on your way in but it wasn't horrible.

"Oh my god," Jimin rushes into the stall with you as soon as you call for him. "You look so sexy in this __. Like a Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped."

"The tiny silk bows on this thing barely cover my nipples." And you're not exaggerating. The set you've opted to try on first is Jimin's pick; a strappy red two-piece with matching garters, silk choker, and bows over both breasts. He says it's supposed to be like a sexy Mrs. Clause but while it's sexy for sure, it's way more revealing than how you'd prefer (at least the first time trying this kind of thing out).

"Turn around," he commands. "You're straps are a little loose."

"I don't think this one fits me Chim. This is obviously meant for a specific body type and it's not mine." You have a hard time staring at yourself in the mirror so you stare down towards the floor instead.

Jimin takes a small breath and turns your shoulders back around so you're facing him again. "This is for anyone who wants to wear it, love. Your body is beautiful and this set looks smashing on you. If it's not your style, no problem, but I won't have you getting down on yourself."

"You're starting to sound like Taehyung now." You give a nervous chuckle and rub your arm.

"If it means you listen to him then good. I'm your best friend and your biggest supporter __ so you know I'll always be honest with you. Now do we not like this because it's not to your taste or is it because you're not good enough for it?"

"Not...my taste," you slowly draw out the words. "Thanks Chim."

"You really mean that?" He straight into your eyes, knowing you have a habit of telling him only what he wants to hear sometimes. You nod.

"Yes, and I was thinking maybe we can keep the color the same but go for something a little tamer?"

"Anything for you, love."

Well, he convinced you to buy the third set you tried on at the boutique. It's a similar shade of red as the first set; the ones with the bows on it, but covers a bit more. Both the bra and panties are strappy and made of sheer, but also have the occasional lace detailing to cover the important parts. A matching red robe made of silk was included in the purchase too.

When you got home, you shoved the set into the back of your drawer, not thinking you'd take it out any time soon.

But alas, you did.

You're now twisting in front of your bedroom mirror with it on, along with the robe which loosely hangs off your shoulder.

"Is this cute?" You ask yourself. "I look kinda different with it on. Maybe I should return it," you continue to talk to yourself in mutters until your bedroom door squeaks open. You jump at the sudden intrusion.

There, sauntering into the bedroom is your boyfriend's dog. Being Friday again, Taehyung and Tannie came over to spend the weekend with you. But while your boyfriend is busy showering in your bathroom, Tannie has decided he wants to make himself cozy on your bed.

"Hi Tan." You crouch down on your knees in front of the pup and give him a few good pat. He yips at you but doesn't move away. "Have you still not made up your mind about me yet? I know I took your daddy away from you so now you don't have him all to yourself anymore but didn't I give you extra treats this morning?"

Tannie's big eyes look up at you and then towards your bed. He then trots over to the edge where his doggie stairs are and uses them to climb up atop the bed. You stand up from your kneeled position and place your hands on your hips.

"Well, I guess you made this place your home huh?" You watch as the little dog spins three times in a circle before plopping down. "Alright, you're too cute to be fake mad at. Since you're here though, maybe you can help me."

You feel utterly stupid for what you're about to do next, yet that feeling doesn't stop you. "What do you think about this new set I got? It's my first one so I'm excited but it looks weird right?"

Tan huffs and stares at you.

"Yeah? It does, doesn't it? You know when I got this I was thinking maybe I could get into it...this whole lingerie thing. And it's sexy, no denying that, but as I told my friend Jimin. It's not meant for my bod–"

Your sentence is abruptly cut off when a pair of hands make their way around your hips. They stay atop your robe yet the burn of your boyfriend's fingers is still fiery hot.

When did he get out of the shower?

Taehyung stands behind you in a pair of silk pajama bottoms and nothing else. His bare chest presses lightly against your back and his wet hair falls messily around his face with a few strands covering his eyes. "Hi," he breathes in a husky tone, right next to your ear. It sends a whole trail of shivers up your spine. "What's not meant for your body, baby?"

In a ball of nervous energy, you move to tug the robe as closed as you can, forcing his fingers to loosen around your body. "Tae! I didn't hear you get out of the shower. I was just talking to Tannie and I-I'm gonna go get changed, now that the bathroom's free."

You'd make a beeline out your bedroom door if it weren't for the arm that snakes around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. "Do you have to change? Because I really, really don't want you to. As always I'll let you make your own decisions though..." Evilly, he sweeps your hair all to one side to expose the nape of your neck. He then places a kiss on the sensitive area; too soft, his lips are too soft.

You bite your moan back however, don't meet his question with a response. The thought of opening your robe and showing him the number underneath makes you crazy with arousal. You just wish you didn't have the pesky whisper that tells you that there's nothing to go crazy for after you do.

You're really not trying to be so hard on yourself but can you actually do this? The set is hot, sure, but maybe it was a mistake to g– "Oh Tae, fuck." You gasp when your boyfriend latches his mouth on the side of your neck, sucking on it lewdly. It never fails to send your head backward into his firm chest. Your eyes fall shut to bask in the pleasure. "You're way too good at this," you coo.

Taehyung slowly traces down the fabric of your robe, near the opening. It's a struggle for him not to pull the thin material open. "Can I see?" It's a plead.

You wet your lips and fiddle with the material yourself. "I-I don't know."

"Let me rephrase that." He folds his palms over your fingers and spins you both around so you're able to see each other's reflection in your full-length mirror. "Do you want me to see?" His deep, lusty eyes lock with yours in the glass. Taehyung brings his chin down to your shoulder, resting it there calmly while his grip tightens around you.

He gives you as long as you need to reply.

"...yes," you finally decide, dragging your robe down and off your shoulders. Taehyung groans and kisses your bare shoulder as you cautiously show yourself to him.

"Tan." His voice calls out, more gruff than when he was speaking with you moments ago. "Living room." The little dog's ears perk up and he flees off the bed and out the room.

"Did he really have to go?"

"He's our baby. He can't witness all the nasty things I'm about to do to you. He'll make himself comfy on the couch, don't worry." Your boyfriend runs his hands up your thighs before helping you remove your robe completely. "I haven't said it yet so I'm going to do it now. You look fucking hot in this, like a lucid dream. I don't deserve this, fuck."

"Really?"

His fingers sensually trace your curves, then the thin band of your lace panties. "Yeah, really," he hums and cups your mound. "This color on you is making me insane. I can't decide if I want to take it off or savor it on your body a little longer."

"Tae—mfph!" He doesn't let you finish, preferring to turn you around so he can press his lips on yours. He moves with passion, nipping your bottom lip to sneak his tongue inside. Your moans only grow louder when his grinds his hips into you.

With a gentle pull, Taehyung leads you to the edge of your bed. "Lay down for me, on your stomach."

You do as he says and slide onto your mattress, face down. All your senses tingle at once when you feel his body hovering over you. His legs straddle you from behind as his hands cling to the sheets on either side of you.

"Tae what are you doing?" Your senses heighten, your heart thumping at the inability to see him.

"This," he answers and brings his warm lips to the small of your back. The tiny jolt of surprise doesn't stop him from continuing to kiss up your spine and all the way up between your shoulder blades. He's never kissed you like this before. Your body arches off the bed from the newness and arousal pools between your thighs.

"This feels ni-nice." The broken moan spurs your boyfriend on. He kisses you the same way again, faster. Clearly, wherever your boyfriend's lips touch you, you like it tenfold.

Once he gets back to your shoulder blades Taehyung lifts his head up and unclasps your bra. He then flips you over, gives you a quick peck, and rips the now pesky material off your body.

"I love seeing this on you and I wanted to wait it out some more but I can't do it." He cups the swell of your breasts, squeezing them together while his thumbs fondle your perky nipples. "You look so, so beautiful and I need to make love to you now or I'm going to come in my pants like a teenager." He releases your breasts and mouths at the supple flesh, tongue licking across the peaks.

"Fuck," you moan and sink your fingers into his hair. "I need you too. Please."

Your panties are off before you know it, the cool air hitting your warm pussy. Taehyung spreads your thighs wide open and tells you to keep them there until he gets his own pants and underwear off. He's seconds from putting himself into you when he pauses.

"Can't skip over this can we?" He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb and lowers his head down to your center. "Not that you really need it seeing as you're soaked down here, but I'm a creature of habit." He proceeds to lick up your folds, teasing your clit at the same time.

"Oh, oh my god Tae!" You claw his hair harder and reflexively buck your hips into his mouth, drawing a deep groan from him.

"Shit!" He raises his face from between your thighs with lips already glistening with your arousal. "Maybe I can finish eating you out after I fuck you into the mattress."

You nod your head. "Okay, yeah sure, fuck me. I'm still on the pill."

Taehyung lifts both of your legs over his shoulders and rubs the tip of his cock up and down your entrance. You clench at the teasing. "You are literally going to be the end of me, baby." He thrusts himself all the way into you, bottoming out much quicker than other times.

"Fuuck," you both moan at the stretch. Taehyung's hips snap forward with vigor, his thick length being squeezed by your velvet walls with each push and pull.

"Goddamn, this pussy is too good for me. So hot and tight, shit! You're so beautiful you know that? Everything you are. That's why—it's why it hurt me so much when you asked if I thought you were sexy or boring last week."

Your nails dig into the sheets as you watch the veins protrude from his neck. His eyes, on the other hand, are laser-focused on you.

"Hurt....you?"

"Yes," he affirms, fucking into you faster with hard, controlled thrusts. "Hurt me so much because you're mine and I–fuck I'm gonna come soon!"

I never want you to question how I feel about you. And when you asked me those things, it made my head spin. Our relationship is not all about sex and I thought maybe I was making it seem like that. And now, seeing you in sexy red set gives me such a mindfuck but I don't want you to feel like it's just because of the lace."

"No, no not at all. I don't think any of that because you're perfect to me too Tae. Going out with my coworkers and having that conversation just triggered me. This is all still new to me....us."

"I know." Taehyung unexpectedly stops his movement to lower your legs from his shoulders. He then brings them around his mid-section which you gladly wrap around. "It's new to me too but we're just starting right?" Your hands are intertwined with his when he resumes his previous brutal pace.

"Right," you breathe, fingers gripping his firmer against the mattress "I'm-I'm gonna come baby. It's so close."

"Me too."

You both have your release at the same time, panting like crazy from the post-orgasmic bliss. Taehyung rides both your highs out, then pulls out of you slowly.

"Holy fuck." You're the first to speak. "That damn lingerie really did make our sex better."

"Better?" Taehyung squeaks out. "What do you mean better? Was it not as good before?"

"I'm kidding, however, I do think you were a lot more eager this time. What happened to the whole being able to last with a boner for eternity if you have to speech?"

He breaks out into a cute grin. "I guess I was bullshitting then, lesson learned. Also, even though the lingerie is hot we don't have to keep doing it...I mean if you want to–"

You shut him up with a kiss and snuggle into him. "Maybe we'll try it again. It was kinda fun. Either way, you're right, we don't need it because I love you."

"I love you more. Now how about I fulfill that promise earlier about eating you out?" He jerks back to look at you with a quirked brow.

"Taehyung....we were having a moment."

"Oh shit, sorry. We can keep snuggling, come here beautiful." He pulls you back into himself with a smile.

a/n: Hoping you enjoyed ☺ LMK your thoughts 💞

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagines #bts smut #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts au #bts fanfic #taehyung #fic:loverboy #kookslastbutton

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desireangel · 27 days

Text

Dark Cherry [2] | Aemond Targaryen

Part Two

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop ;o

Word Count: (I'm... sorry?) 7.1k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! UNEDITED!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? power struggle both in bed and out, reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, degradation, Aemond is a fucking asshole but he's sexy, talk of masturbation. as always, let me know if I have missed anything!

Author's note: Entirely unedited because here I am posting this at 2:30AM having just finished writing this bad boy even though I have to be up for work at 7:30. yay :/. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love on this series so far! I'm thinking there could potentially be some more to come. Reader ain't done with her revenge so soon. I will reblog with the taglist tomorrow! or today I guess--after I've had some sleep! I would also love to hear your thoughts!! So pls hmu in my inbox to chat abt things xoxo kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Part One

Distancing yourself from Aemond was not a difficult task. You’d barely see much of him aside from the meals you shared and your occasional stroll through the gardens anyway. It still felt odd, knowing that you were avoiding him when only days ago you had been grasping at whatever crumb of his attention you could reach.

His existence was ghostly. Always talked about but never seen and it made it remarkably easy to ignore him. You spent most days between your chambers and Helaena’s, idly passing time with embroidery and small talk. But you were distracted - your mind foggy and your usual grace and poise replaced by clumsiness and a constant flustered jumpiness.

It was always on your mind. Always.

Your mind was a problem of its own and as soon as you lay down amongst your sheets for a night of sleep, it took you back to the memory of your name lewdly falling from Aemond’s lips. As days had passed, you could have convinced yourself it was a hallucination - an odd dream of some sort.

And while it had become muscle memory for your hand to find your soaked sex at the midnight hour, the scene of your alluring husband in the throes of pleasure bringing you to a quick peak, the first two nights had been marred with silent tears of humiliation, hurt, betrayal–jealousy and anger.

Maybe it was for the best that you had not seen the face of the whore in his private chambers. If you had any idea of who she was, you would have had half a mind to have sought her out and suffocated her yourself.

You had to remind yourself that if she were, in fact, a whore then you could hardly let yourself seriously consider choking a woman out for simply doing her job.

Frustration was an understatement. No matter how hard you tried, there was nothing that you could do which would calm the mix of emotions inside you. You considered declaring Aemond’s infidelity at dinner–or even at the small feast that was held two nights ago. But it wouldn’t be enough and it was too early to show your hand.

If you had come out and made it known to all at Court, nothing would happen. At all.

Most husbands take on whores and mistresses. And despite the pain and hurt of it that the wives suffer, it’s simply accepted as the way things are. Men are innately animals and so they must fuck like it too. So nobody would bat an eyelid at Aemond. Instead, you knew that they’d turn it on you in one way or another.

On the sixth day, you were surprised when Ser Tunsley knocked on your door to announce your husband’s presence. When Aemond took a seat at the small table where you usually shared your breakfast, he barely spared you more than an inquisitive look before telling your handmaid to bring your breakfasts promptly.

Aemond leaned back, letting his legs rest comfortable but still maintained his effortlessly flawless posture. He reached for the book that lay forgotten on the side-table, holding it open with one hand and his other arm stretching over the back of the seat beside him, where you sat all tense and surprised. A barely-there frown crossed your face at the foreign gesture and you willed yourself not to think much of it.

You would have fumbled to snatch the book from his hands, if this had been a week earlier. But it wasn’t, and with a curious and conniving sense of calm, you let him read the first page of a story riddled with obscenity and romance. The first couple chapters were perfectly appropriate.

The prince looked at you with a gentle tilt of his head, unmoving aside from . “You have been withdrawn.”

Silence. You were sitting beside him, unable to meet his eye as you usually would, scoffing so softly at his words that he almost mistook it for a cough.

Aemond, who was far more observant of you than he knew you believed him to be, found that he was bothered by it. Whether it was because of the loss of the devotion that he had always seen in your doe-eyed gaze, or the flippant shift in your attitude, he did not want to know.

“Have I done something that has bothered you, dear wife?” His eye returned to the book and moved from one side of the page to the other as he read.

Aemond clearly did not see you watching them on that night. The fact that you had faced no repercussions for sneaking up on him and eavesdropping on such a moment was enough confirmation of that.

But Aemond’s presence re-ignited the red hot resentment you had for his actions and the hurt that you felt because of him. How any man could seek out the company of his wife for the first time in a week, sit beside her and pretend so shamelessly as if he cared for the repercussions of his own vile actions was beyond you.

Nonetheless, you forced a polite smile onto your lips and turned slightly to face him better. You let his question linger in the air between you as the maid returned, placing a plate of cheeses, fruits and an assortment of breads on the table in front of you.

Thanking her, you reached to pour yourself a cup of the sweet vanilla and rose tea that had become your favourite part of your mornings in the Keep. When you answered his question, it was purposefully less than what Aemond was seeking.

“I have been ill, lord husband,” you murmured. When you rested against the back of the seat, you tensed at the feeling of Aemond’s arm grazing your shoulder. You had forgotten it was there.

Your reaction to his proximity and while you had initially been shy around him–not so much since you had started your little performance–, you never flinched away from his touch.

Aemond placed the book down beside him and hummed in thought. He reached over you, to take a piece of fresh bread for his plate and to put some fruit on your plate, his chest pressing against your shoulder and his hair brushing past your nose.

If you had moved, just an inch, your lips would be against the milky skin of his throat. Despite your disdain for your husband, you could hear the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears and stopped yourself from dragging your fingers through his hair and tracing your lips across his jaw.

There was an unfamiliar sense of purpose behind what he was doing. It dawned on you that he knew what he was doing. The bread was already on his plate but the son of a bitch placed the fruits piece by piece on your plate, his movements lazy.

He smelled like lavender, leather and dragon smoke. Like an intoxicating drug that overwhelmed your mind until piety and sin were indiscernible. It was far too easy for you to see Aemond as more godly than just a mere man, to feel the need to worship him in the most sinful ways you could imagine.

No man in any realms was as strong, as beautiful, as terrifying, as educated as the prince who breathed fire onto your skin. And he was your prince.

A drop in your stomach was the least of your problems when the image of Aemond enjoying another woman’s passion invaded your thoughts. You wondered if his scent drove her just as mad as it made you and you had the urge to drive a knife through Aemond’s hand for you knew he’d have let her indulge in him.

But when he looked at you, his violet eye a mask of indifference yet still failing to hide something that you couldn’t for the life of you put into words, you hated that your desire for him burned just as strong as your rage.

Aemond’s eye met yours, humming in thought as he brought a cherry to his lips and glancing down at your own. He took a bite out of it first and then brought it to your mouth, dragging the open side across your bottom lip. The soft fruit dripped delicately onto your chin and left a stain on your perfect lips. The sight of you with reddened lips, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, shining with an uncorrupted devotion and a pure desire sent his blood rushing.

The cherry was sweet and chilled, a stark contrast to the darkened, heated want that Aemond watched you with. And again, you had an urge to ignore everything and take what it was that you had been hoping Aemond would give you. You obediently took the cherry into your mouth, holding his gaze, chewing the flesh of the fruit and rolling the pip on your tongue.

When you looked hard enough into Aemond’s eye, you could see the reflection of yourself morph into a reflection of the unnamed woman and you turned from him, turning away to drop the pip of the cherry onto a napkin.

Aemond’s hand fell softly to rest on your knee and he only moved back a nudge. You refused to meet his eye but you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke, his voice slightly strained yet still calm and smooth. “I’ll send for a maester.”

“Thank you,” you pushed the words out of your mouth and nodded towards the food. “You should eat your breakfast, my prince.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes at him and slid back into his previous posture, sitting against the backrest of his own seat. An infuriating grin played on his lips. “Don’t worry about my breakfast. Why did you roll your eyes at me?”

You rolled your eyes again. “As if I cannot call for a maester myself.”

It crossed your mind that you could have told him right now of what you had seen. And the urge to scream at him became so strong you almost did.

But what would come of it? Not enough. Aemond would only offer you an apology if you were lucky and carry on as if nothing was amiss. Because that is just how it is for husbands–they could cheat and lie all they please to no consequence. And you wanted him to regret the moment he chose to disrespect you.

You wanted him to suffer for it. To feel as insulted, as embarrassed and as inferior as you have.

So he would suffer. But you had to be patient if you were to make it hurt.

A thought crossed your mind as Aemond said something you didn’t quite hear, with that unbothered expression he had mastered years ago.

He didn’t linger long after that. You ate your breakfast in silence, while Aemond, much to your distaste, finished the first chapter of your book. And when he finally left, he took it with him, giving you a knowing smirk as he tucked it under his arm.

One punch. Surely, you would be entitled to that.

Initially, the idea of seducing Jason Lannister was a gruesome one. But upon hearing of his prolonged and unbusy presence at King’s Landing, you recognised an opportunity as it presented itself to you. Simply because of pride and ego, there were few men who enjoyed the idea of his wife turning to another man for what they could not provide.

Alas, if there was any part of Aemond that made him weak, it was his pride and his arrogance.

And so here you were, enjoying your afternoon tea with the Lannister twin, listening to stories of his life at Casterly Rock. You made sure the house staff had known of Lannister’s presence and that the Kingsguard were well aware of the pot of tea you shared in the Courtyard. Easily within sight of where you knew Aemond was training with Ser Cole and some other men you had no interest in knowing.

For the past thirty minutes, you could feel him watching you. But when you lifted your head to look, pretending to the man across from you that you were interested in watching your husband train, Aemond would turn away. Yet he finally seemed to have finally had enough and you could see him walking over from behind Jason, his shoulders stiffer than usual with a sour expression.

“This tea,” you covered your mouth gently, letting out the remnants of a laugh that had been pulled from you. If you were being honest, Jason Lannister was turning out to be surprisingly fun company and the smile you had expected to fake ended up being real. Not bothering to look at Aemond, who was much closer now, you held your teacup towards the Lord Lannister with a pretty, sultry smile. “It is incredible–I’ve loved it so much, t’is the only tea I will drink. Have a taste of mine, I insist.”

With a look of blatant excitement, Jason leaned into where you held the cup, fingers grazing yours as he held the cup but never took it out of your hold and took a sip. It was slightly awkward, the way his eyes held onto yours, but you brightened your smile nonetheless.

Aemond visibly inhaled a sharp breath and cleared his throat, covering the both of you in a dark shade. The prince was looming over Lannister, who never looked away from you even as you peeled your eyes away from him with exaggerated difficulty to meet Aemond’s eye. You dropped your smile so slightly that only Aemond could notice.

There was a tense, awkward silence that lingered. Lannister’s head tilted ever so slightly and a wave of annoyance ran through you at the cocky tilt of his head regardless of the fact that it was exactly what you needed him to do. The two men stared at each other, Aemond’s typical dark repose and Lannister’s challenging chagrin at the disruption.

“How nice of you to join us, my prince,” you beamed. “Lord Lannister has been sharing this pot of tea with me. It’s lovely to enjoy some company for once.”

You took pleasure in the way he squared his shoulders at your remark. Lannister snickered but was quick to cover it up with a cough at Aemond’s narrowed eye.

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Aemond’s voice was sharp. “I happen to have some time on my hands before I take Vhagar to flight, lady wife. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll through the gardens?”

Aemond was behind you in a blink, tugging your chair back gently into himself and holding a hand out to help you stand. The air around you became soft lavender and leather and something very Aemond. And despite the slight flutter of your eyelids, you straightened and held strong.

Weakness would get you nowhere. You were out here for a reason and no matter how strong the pull was, your lust to hurt him back was much stronger.

You shook your head gently, looking at Jason who seemed to stiffen under the prince’s eye. “What kind of host would I be if I were to abandon Lord Lannister? Considering it was I who invited him to tea. We can enjoy the gardens another time, my prince.”

The fire in Aemond’s eye rivalled Vhagar’s. It gave you a sense of satisfaction that was much unlike yourself and you wondered how he’d burn with rage if you decided to take Jason to your bed. You’d lose everything you had to your name but you knew it would not be difficult to convince yourself that it’d be worth it.

Jason Lannister was no fool. He understood the wrath of the Targaryen prince but he knew that you would never be subjected to the extent of it. As much as Prince Aemond pretended he did not care, the Lords and counsellors of the Red Keep knew that he had his weaknesses. At the end of the day, Aemond would not dishonour himself by tarnishing the image of his pious, kind wife who was loved by all.

Lannister also had his doubts about you. Again, he was no fool to fall for whatever game you were playing. An honourable, devoted Lady such as yourself would never actually be so easy to adulterate. Whatever it was, Jason was not against indulging himself in some fun here and there.

But he did prefer to keep his limbs and so he shook his head gently and stood from his seat.

“You have my thanks,” he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. A bold move from a man who could so strongly feel the Prince’s pointed glare. Jason turned and bowed his head gently towards Aemond. “But I fear I have some business to attend to, so do not stay back on my regard. It was lovely to sit with you, my Lady.”

Aemond scoffed loudly as the Lord took his leave. He waited for you to take his hand to help you out of your seat before dropping it to your waist.

“My prince-”

“If you are so starved of company, dear wife,” he drawled, looking straight ahead with a tightened jaw as he led you in the direction of the gardens. It was a habit now, whenever Aemond had you on his arm, to walk that route. Not surprising seeing how it was the only place where you two would see each other apart from your chambers. “I would expect you to call upon me rather than some toady Lord who would certainly misjudge your intentions. I am your husband, am I not?”

The thought of keeping a list of the times he spoke as if he were faithful crossed your mind for barely a second. Aemond was infuriating.

You offered him half of a smile and pulled him back slightly as you came to a stop. “You are. But your mind is never with me and I am well aware your time is far more precious to you than I am.”

If Aemond’s composure was not so ingrained into his existence, he may have spluttered and gawked at you. Instead, he barely frowned.

There was little he could do about the unemotional, unkind man that he had become perceived as. Aemond understood that it was his own actions that meant people viewed him as little less than a monster. And truly, it was how he tried to be perceived.

So why did it disturb Aemond that his own wife thought him so uncaring? He knew he had only himself to blame for it.

“I am afraid a stroll in the gardens will have to wait,” you continued in his silence. Being alone with Aemond was not how you intended to spend the afternoon. The risk that you’d lose your composure and tell him all that you had seen of him was still high. “I am still feeling fairly unwell. It may be better for me to rest in my chambers with a book.”

Aemond knew that you were retracting into yourself, pulling away from him where you would have been at his beck and call only a week ago. He hummed. “Tomorrow then.”

And with that, Aemond escorted you to your chambers in silence. It was hardly two hours that you had spent in the Courtyard with Lord Lannister but it had been tiring nonetheless. The peace and quiet that came with your reprieve from the man that had set your nerves into a frenzy just at the knowledge of his presence while you pressed at his patience was welcome.

A few hours passed slowly in your own company. Dinner was brought to your room at your request. The mere thought of sitting beside your husband and putting on a display for his family exhausted you.

The sounds of footsteps and conversation outside your door pulled your attention from the embroidery you had forced yourself to practise. Your chambers were fairly secluded compared to the rest and so it wasn’t often that anyone wandered this area. Expecting the Queen or your husband to be the source of the noise, you were hastily at the door, a sudden flush of anxiety shooting straight to your gut.

You waited barely five seconds for Ser Tunsley to knock on your door but your impatience pushed you to step out first. There was nobody there. You could see Ser Tunsley stalking away from the direction of the private chambers. You didn’t question it, assuming he was probably stepping away for a brief break, given that his position hadn’t been replaced.

Footsteps. Again.

Curiously turning your head in the direction of the sound, you saw a flash of brunette hair and a dark grey dress. Fuck.

It was impossible not to recognise her. Even as she walked away from you and clearly in the direction of Prince Aemond’s chambers, you knew who she was.

So with one final glance back into your room you followed her, thankful that you were barefoot so that your own footsteps couldn’t be heard. Even though your body was running hot with a mixture of heartache and rage, there was an icy stiffness that had spread from the back of your neck to your shoulders as you rounded a single corner after her and helplessly watched her enter Aemond’s chambers.

You held back tears. She had left the door open. Again. It did little to ease the knot in your throat when you realised that while she may be good enough for Aemond with her mouth, she was not the smartest.

Unable to move, you stood planted in that one spot a few feet away for what must have been ten minutes before you heard the same shuffling and muffled voices. You could hear her more clearly this time and it took you another two minutes to build the courage to see, once again, how Aemond dishonoured you.

If the circumstances were different, it may have been one of the sexiest sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. But it struck you in a way you couldn’t have expected and it took all of your willpower to stay standing.

But what else had you expected?

This time, the woman was sprawled out, her head hanging off of the bed and if her eyes weren’t screwed shut in bliss then she would have been looking directly at you. Her left hand gripped the sheets and the other was tangled amongst Aemond’s silver hair, her thighs on either side of his head.

Gods, you had never known anything like it.

Aemond was devouring her like he had been starved of her for weeks (you knew he hadn’t), the obscene sounds of his mouth against her sex striking you with distress. He held her down as she writhed against him, a strong, clothed arm keeping her in place at her waist.

You had hardly been watching them for thirty seconds and you didn’t even have time to consider turning around and walking away to save yourself the misery.

Because Aemond’s eye opened and he gazed straight through his lashes, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. A piercing violet eye accompanied by a glimmering sapphire that watched you dangerously, as if he had seen you standing there the entire time and this was all entertaining to him.

For what may well have been the tenth time that night, you couldn’t move. You stood at the door, chest heaving and jaw slack as you felt a tightness in your throat. How could you feel so powerless in a game you managed to believe you had the upperhand in?

Aemond still held your eyes with his own, pulling away from the whore he was toying with, and fucking smirked.

Like things were going exactly how he had planned.

Red. And a loud gasp and then panic and a flash of arousal and all of a sudden you were running back to your chambers, falling to your knees over your empty bathtub and dry heaving. It was all too much.

The shock, the fear, the jealousy, the fear.

And it dawned on you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Ignoring your arousal–you cursed your body for reacting faster than your mind once again–panic continued to flood your veins like an ice-cold burn.

Aemond had definitely seen you watching. But had he known all along?

It made no sense. Did he see you that night when he moaned your name instead of that damned woman’s?

You couldn’t even be sure how long Aemond had stared at you from his spot, his attention diverted entirely from the nameless woman, who whined and stirred incessantly at his distraction, to you. Caught like a thief in the act, wide-eyed and dazed.

Aemond knew. And he must have known the entire time. With the way he looked directly to you, as if he were waiting for you. As if Aemond knew exactly where you stood the first night. As if he had finally caught you in his trap.

He wanted you to see.

Aemond had already bested you at your own game with even more cleverness than you. Before you had even started to play.

Sleep did not come easy that night.

You were dressed and ready far earlier than usual the next morning. Even though you dreaded the worst - that Aemond had convened to have you punished for watching as you had, you let your scheme motivate you to take back the control you had lost. If you had ever had it in the first place.

The dress you wore was hardly decent and it left you bare from your chest up, a wide slit running through the skirts. It was a deep green that had a shine to it and clung to your skin, making it clear that you had foregone your smallclothes for the day.

For the sake of decency within the hallway, and because you detested the idea of either of the Cloaks at your doors seeing your attire, you donned a heavy cloak over top. It was Aemond’s; he had left it behind after breakfast once.

Aemond was still asleep when you had talked your way past the guard at his door and pushed through the doors to his chambers. You stood at the foot of his bed, tracing the place where that woman lay with your eyes. Quietly, you dropped the cloak to the floor.

It was your first time in Aemond’s private chambers. And would things have been different, you would have taken the time to observe all the things that made this space his. Instead, your eyes scanned every centimetre of every part of his chambers for any trace of that wretched woman.

There was none. Not a single strand of hair.

You sat at the edge of his plush bed, taking a moment to get your head straight before you stood and walked around to the side of the bed where he lay. The scent of him was overwhelming as you stood above him.

“Well,” Aemond barely moved aside from his lips as he spoke. His eye remained shut. “Look who finally figured it out. Why are you here?”

You let out a drawn out sigh, shivering gently. “I would like to talk.”

Aemond sat up lazily and you noticed he was naked save for the sheet that covered his lap. From the way he was sitting, you stood in between his legs and his head was slightly tilted as he looked at you over the swell of your breasts. His hands found a resting place on your hips and you were hyper-aware of his touch, which felt heavier than boulders and hotter than lava.

He looked at you as if he were ready to devour you. As if Aemond were a man starved of air and you were his only chance at breathing.

The prince let out a hum. “Dressed like this?”

“Since you seem to prefer a whore over your own wife, I figured I would dress akin to one,” you kept your voice stern and stepped further into him so that his chin almost had to rest in the valley of your breasts if he wished to keep his gaze on yours. “If this is what it will take to have your attention.”

Not once did Aemond’s heated stare falter. “I think you are well aware of where my attention lies. What with your childish attempts at seduction.”

“I did not think you cared to take note.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Aemond said, dragging a finger up and down the side of your waist. He enjoyed the soft feel of the fabric and the way your nipples perked through the dress at his touch had him resisting a primal urge to bite. His patience had been astounding thus far but it was wearing thin. “I would have expected that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady such as yourself. You are a princess, after all.”

Trying your best not to squirm under his touch, you held firm in your hardened gaze. “You seem to enjoy whores.”

“I do not.”

You scoffed. “So you have been fucking her just to spite me? Or have you fallen in love?”

“Such filthy language from such a well behaved girl,” he mused. Aemond’s cursed smirk had you holding back from both cutting him and kissing him. “I never would have guessed that my wife is so full of surprises. It seems I do not know you as well as I believed.”

“Answer my question, Aemond.”

“I never fucked her properly, since you insist–”

“As if it makes a difference whether you fucked her cunt or her mouth,” you spat. He was maddening. “You are my husband. I should be the only woman you have in your bed.”

The grip on your hips tightened almost painfully before he brought one hand up to caress your jaw. Aemond didn’t hide the longing he felt, pulling you closer and admiring every inch of your skin tenderly. “If only you had been good and asked me nicely for what you need. Instead of acting like a desperate slut every time we were in the same space. Things could have been so much easier for you, my love.”

Aemond had always spoken to you with respect. And yet here he was, speaking to you as if he already knew exactly what sent your cunt wild with need. He harshly held your chin, forcing you to look up at the roof as he straightened, pressing his nose into the crevice of your neck. The tickle of his hot breath on your skin made you gasp and you felt the velvet of his lips smirking against your throat.

“The whole time,” you panted, bringing your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. “You knew. It was-”

“Hm. It was for you.” Aemond let his teeth graze against the dip of your jaw.

There was a fire alight on your skin. You could barely make sense of his words but you forced yourself to hold it together. “You are insane.”

“I was only playing the game that you started,” Aemond chuckled. “Only, I have played it far better than you. Perhaps we are lucky that you did not present more of a challenge, considering I was not above taking her on your bed instead.”

Fuck that. You despised him and loved him and lusted for him all at the same time.

The control you had was slight to begin with but whatever little there was, it was slipping through your fingers. You threaded your fingers through Aemond’s hair–which was silkier than you had expected–and pulled him away from your neck.

When you saw the hunger for you in his eye, the slight pink flush of his cheeks, a warm flood of invigorating energy made it’s way through your veins. You fought the urge to run your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his bicep–any part of him you could reach.

You swallowed thickly. “You should have. I need only one more reason to cut her.”

“I shall have her hanged if that is what you wish.”

For a moment, you thought you might scratch the smug expression off of Aemond’s face. You groaned, pursing your lips at his indifference and squeezing your thighs together at the passion in his eye. “Fuck you, Aemond.”

“I’m going to give you another chance. Ask me nicely to fuck you until all those doubts you have are replaced by the empty space I will fill your pretty little head with,” He pulled at your hips, so that there was no empty space between you, your torso flush to his chest. Aemond felt deathly tense yet strangely relaxed at the feel of you gasping against him. “And we can put an end to this contest. I do regret that I have left you, my wife, unsatisfied but I want you begging first.”

You watched him closely, challenged him with your gaze. There was no chance you would beg and let him win. The air between you was charged with energy, hissing and stinging. It became heavy and despite the way both of you were breathing so heavily, chests rising and falling dramatically, you couldn’t get enough oxygen to fill your lungs.

The thickness in the air only became heavier as you gripped his wrists, and moved slowly so that you straddled his right thigh. Aemond fisted the thin fabric of your dress and when you lightly pressed your leg against the hardness at his crotch, you felt his steady breath against your lips which lingered above his own. The skirts of your dress rode up to your hips.

Lavender, leather and him.

“You want me to ask you nicely, my prince?” You purred, relishing in the way Aemond’s jaw clenched when he felt your bare cunt press against his thigh. It sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. “You want me to beg you to tear this dress off of me? To fuck me until I can no longer think of any word other than your name? To make me yours properly? Beg you to fuck me how you should have every night since our wedding?”

Aemond’s hands were grasping at the flesh all over your body, pulling at the fabric of your pathetic excuse of a gown until it ripped. There was a weight on his chest that only grew at the sight of your perfect skin through the torn fabric, your nipples slipping into his view.

His voice was low and guttural. “The final chance. Be good and beg.”

“If you wish for me to be good,” you whispered into his ear, moving hastily to grip the back of his neck with one hand and the other holding his chin tightly as he had held yours minutes ago. He let out a strained sound through his teeth as you shifted against his cock, pretending to get comfortable. “You should not have indulged in that whore.”

Aemond scowled at you. And he could have thrown you off of him but his hands continued to scorch the skin on your hips.

You realised you had never been so close to Aemond as you pressed a trail of tender kisses to his jaw. You were infinitely closer to him than all the times you had held onto him while walking the gardes or while he had bedded you with feigned disinterest. And you were aching with want and desire just as he was, your wetness seeping onto Aemond’s thigh.

It was nothing in comparison to the rage that you had pent up. With a gasp you ground down on the strong muscle of his thigh, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Holding back a moan, you rested your forehead against Aemond’s and rocked your hips against him.

You tightened your legs, well aware that Aemond could overpower you and have you under him in seconds. He was allowing you to have your moment and you pulled your hand from his jaw only for it to stay tightly locked as his fingers dug into your hips.

There would be bruises left on your skin for weeks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, almost groaning out loud when Aemond took control of your movements, pushing and pulling your hips so that your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. You think you can just do as you like and that there would be no consequences. That I would come crawling back to you so easily?”

A moan slipped from your lips when Aemond shifted his leg. You knew you were getting carried away, that the power you had over him was getting to your head but fuck. It didn’t matter.

You dropped your hand to where Aemond’s cock pressed against one of your thighs, touching him gently over the sheet that covered him. It still surprised you just how perfectly big Aemond was, thick and hard in your palm. And then you held him firmly, rocking your weeping cunt against his thigh even harder when he groaned. It sent shock after shock straight through your core.

“Did you think I would be on my knees for you so easily just like she was?” You spat, whining at the pleasure that was incomparable to the way you had been touching yourself. Aemond hissed as you slid your hand up and then back down so slowly. “After those shows you put on for me, there is not a chance.”

Countermoves. Aemond was good at them, even when struggling to even out his breath and regain his composure. “Tell me, which part did you enjoy the most? Was it when I fucked my seed into her throat? Or when was calling your name?”

You gripped the back of his neck so hard, pushing your soaked pussy harder onto his leg. “Do not-”

Aemond hummed, his grip tightening painfully on your hips as he moved his leg in motion against you. He smirked when you shuddered, caressing your cheek with his nose as he spoke lowly into your ear once again. “I think I know. It was last night, when I had her on my tongue and thought only of how perfect your desperate little cunt would taste instead.”

“Aemond,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rolled your hips deliciously on his thigh. He let out a small, deep laugh at the way you trembled in his hands but you could hear that he was losing himself just as much as you were. “Gods.”

“I wish to know, princess. How many times have you touched yourself since that night, wishing you were in her place?”

You sucked in a breath, rutting against Aemond violently and he only pulled you in harder when you refused to answer his questions. Another moan. “Be quiet, Aemond.”

“Hm,” Aemond nipped at your earlobe. “Do you really want me to stop talking? You know that I can feel how wet it makes your perfect cunt. Desperate little slut.”

Whining and cursing him under your breath, you let yourself really look at him. Aemond’s sapphire eye shone under the early morning light that spilled in from the windows, his eye dark with lust and his jaw clenching as he watched you fall apart on his lap.

Hips buckling as he continued to pull you back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness on the soft expanse of his skin, your legs failed to hold your weight and you had clearly resigned to letting Aemond take control of your pleasure.

You were right at the edge and just as you started to ride out your orgasm, Aemond spoke.

“If you do not beg me,” he threatened. “I shall stop.”

“Gods, no–do not sto-”

Aemond held you still in response and no matter how you writhed against his grip, you couldn’t move. He was keeping you at the tipping point, smirking at the way you were gasping for air and squirming on his lap. But he was in no calmer state himself and you could tell his resolve was about to shatter.

“Stand up. I want you on the bed,” He demanded. And when you didn’t move, he let go of your hip to lay a stiff smack to your backside. “Now.”

“No.”

It was almost too easy and you snatched his wrist before he could return it to your hip, moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his leg again now that he only had one hand to try and control you.

Aemond’s leg was slick and your clit was sliding deliciously across his skin. Fingernails dug into the flesh of your hips and you could feel Aemond’s frustration as he yanked his hand out of yours. But you blindly grasped at it again, shockwaves of white hot pleasure striking you suddenly as you came undone, your forehead falling forward to rest on Aemond’s as you let out a loud, drawn out moan.

You shook through your orgasm, holding Aemond tightly. His cock throbbed against your thigh and you almost felt bad.

“You should understand, my prince, if you continue to bring that whore to your bed then I am not above bringing another man to mine.” You struggled to catch your breath and your legs were still trembling as you stood, stepping away to pick up the coat you had dropped to the floor.

Aemond glowered at you, his glare strong enough to have made you crumble before him were you not so high on adrenaline.

“You would not dare,” he all but growled.

“Have I not surprised you enough already, Lord Husband?”

Aemond stood, the sheet falling to the floor, entirely naked and stiff against his stomach as he watched you don his coat. The anger in his voice only served to spur you on. “You will not leave. You would not dare to leave.”

“I am a princess, after all,” you looked at him over your shoulder, lip caught between your teeth at the sight of him bare, hard and infuriated. There was disbelief written all over his expression. “You will need to work much harder than that if you want me to give in.”

There was something new in the way Aemond looked at you. As if he was impressed. Admiring you, even through his frustration. And without giving yourself the chance for second thoughts, you walked right out Aemond’s chambers with a triumphant smile.

631 notes · View notes

unconventional-lawnchair · 27 days

Note

A request for you!

Is just Remus helpin a newly werewolf infected reader learn how to deal with it (either back in school or as adults) and they have some heart eyes for each other (or are already together with some added anst that Remus feels responsible because she got targeted because of him or he infected her)

Go wild uwu

N/A This is perfection, kinda went the Angsty route, and by now, you know my pureblood obsession. This has become so much more then it originally planned to be LOL - Not proof read

Think like a Lupin

Iris The Goo Goo Dolls

Remus Lupin x Werewolf!Slytherin!Reader

Wc- 11536

Cw; Use of Y/N Sexual themes and actions, Cussing, themes of ptsd aligning with assault, arranged marriages, abusers doing abusing, continuity issues (mostly wolfbane during Remus's school years)

You always used to enjoy your walks. The one time you were allowed peace, away from your rancid family and their overbearing presence.

They were always simple, slow, and just a lap around your parents' garden. The {L/N} manor was huge, and the property was far bigger. The trail, however, was just around the fountained hedges and back. It was the only path you were allowed to walk without a chaperone, so you relished in it.

It was just around the garden.

It was safe.

It should have been safe.

It was foggy, cold, your limbs buzzing numb and your lips chapped. Your father had just came back from his week-long ministry endeavor, working to ban those infected with Lycanthropy from the more popularized highlands. He had no shame in his views on them, and for the longest time, you believed them too..

You had a lot of regrets like that.

Your father was furious, his bill wasn't passed and he, as usual, had taken it out on your mother the second he entered the threshold of the place you called home. The verbal attack that started was horrendous and you wanted no part in it. So here you were, as far away from home as you could get.

You wanted to walk for hours, but the trail was only about long enough to allow you to avoid your fathers fury, that was pushing it.

Once you were behind the hedges, and you knew no one was watching, you sat down. Looking up at the full moon you lifted your hand as if you could catch it.

You didn't feel the eyes on you.

You don't hear the rustling on the outer line of the property.

Maybe if you did, it would have been different. Maybe if you didn't go out alone, it would have been different.

Maybe if you didn't go out alone, the imprint of Greyback’s jaws wouldn't be permanently etched into your skin.

~~~

Being a pureblood had never been necessarily difficult when you were younger. Occasionally you weren't allowed to play certain games or be around certain people, but it remained plausible. As you got older, specifically when you got to Hogwarts, you suddenly had weekly letters informing you of their expectations. It was crushing, from your parents expecting updates from the professors, to them giving you a letter with a list of all of the approved students your parents allowed you to associate with. Merlin forbid you make friends with muggleborns and halfbloods. Living with that for six full years was destroying you.

You preferred that, however, when you heard news that after your seventh year you were to be married off. Your parents didn't even permit you to know who it was.

Being left with your thoughts was favorable, knowing once the year was over, you were to be married off and a child wasn't an option, more of an obligation. The idea of bringing a child into a world so cruel, to face the same fates, with the possibility of your inflection? It was keeping you up, despite how you tried to keep the thoughts away.

You were laying in the cott, as Madam Pomfrey tried to quiz you on how all of this happened. She didn't say it, but she had this horrible feeling that it was a certain boy she knew, and the guilt he would feel if he heard of it would destroy him.

You didn't answer, just kept denying it. The scars along your face and chest throbbed, your very skull ached from your first ever transformation. Your parents had made you promise to keep it quiet, not wanting to disgrace their name and ruin your betrothal. No one was to know, especially staff, so you kept your mouth shut. Pomfrey tutted and shook her head before she stood. Giving a startled breath when the doors crashed open.

Your eyes tightened in pain and you lifted your good hand over your eyes to try and drown out the raising sunlight.

You groaned and looked up at the doorway. You saw four boys, boys you unfortunately knew very well. The Marauders. If it was to be anyone coming into the hospital wing with no explanation, at this ungodly time of the morning, it would be them. You didn't notice Madam Pomfrey’s familiar and routine movements as she left your side and hurried the boys into the cott next to yours.

You closed your eyes and let out a low sigh as you tried to ignore them. Luckily, the tallest one, Remus, seemed just as over it as you by the way his friends hushed around him.

“I'm fine, guys, you can head off, it will be breakfast soon.”

Remus’s voice sounded strained. Not that you paid particular attention to it before now, you could even hear a bit of crackle in the base of it, clearly over used. You slowly peaked one of your eyes open and spotted Remus’s form sprawled out on the bed just a yard or two away from you. You wondered if she did it on purpose.

Now, your ideals didn't align with your parents, you had long since grown out of that phase. But that didn't mean you still didn't put up a front to anyone you weren't close to. The Marauders and you didn't really care to involve yourself with each other, the only one you knew vaguely was Sirius, but that was due to your relationship with Regulus. Both of them were dramatic shouts, but Regulus was at least charming about it. You couldn't say you knew Sirius well enough to know it.

Not that it mattered.

His name was nowhere on your parents list.

“Are you sure, moony? We can get you anything you need.” James fretted like the mother hen he was. You rolled your eyes and began to roll over, giving a low hiss of pain as the bandage that littered your skin rubbed against your raw flesh.

It was then that the boys noticed you. Your back was now to them, and it seemed they took that as a sign to go. You heard the three shuffling away with low whispers of something you couldn't quite catch.

You tried to steady your breathing, as your ears narrowed in on Remus’s breath. Ever since that night, while you were still in denial, you noticed how your eyesight increased tenfold, your hearing was beyond sensitive, and Merlin your nose seemed to find new and powerful scents everywhere. Taking long deep breaths through your nose wasn't helping.

That was, until you smelt something strong. It wasn't a smell you were able to place, but it was amazing. Calming and numbing, like you could fully unwind and let yourself take the backseat because something was here to protect you. Something was there to stand guard, you didn't have to anymore. You tried to hush this utterly annoying whining in your ears, telling you to go closer to the source, like there were claws wracking against your temple.

You curled up within yourself, holding your head, trying to block out every sound and smell, it was overwhelming. Your body ached, your head throbbed, your nose felt cold and raw with every breath. You wanted to forget tonight, figure out a glamour to cover up your damned scars, and go back to class. But that could all be done tomorrow. Now, you just wanted to sleep.

“Is it loud?” Remus called over to you in a low tone. Still, you flinched at the unwelcome and piercing intrusion it caused. Remus’s voice traveled down your spine and warmed your stomach. Whatever this was, you needed it to stop. You don't even notice the hesitance and slight pain in his voice.

“What?” You whispered back with narrowed eyes.

“The voice.” He challenged. Remus Lupin was smarter than most, not that it took too much thought to figure out what was happening. You looked a lot like him, when he was first nursed back to health by Pomfrey.

“I don't have a clue what you mean.” You snapped back before you carefully rolled over to look at him. You hid your wince and grimace perfectly, but you couldn't hold an angry expression with Remus. Especially when his eyes locked with yours. The voice got so much louder, demanding and begging she go to the boy infront of her. You did your best to ignore it, flinching hard, and covering your temple with a huff.

You don't get a chance to notice how Remus seemed to be going through the same. The second he walked through the door, your scent hit his nose and he knew. He knew what you were before he realized who you were. {Y/N} {L/N}. To him, the only thing notable about you outside of your pureblood bordering on royal status was the company you kept.

You were one of the many who couldn't stand Severus, but you hung around Regulus Black, Evan Rosier, and even Barty Crouch Jr. you seemed to only be friendly with purebloods, but you never went out of your way to pick on anyone else. It was like you lived in your own little world, as far away from ‘tainted blood’ as possible. He only remembered you as the girl who hexed Avery for calling Lily a Mudblood, then receiving a howler from your parents about it the very next day. You avoided anyone who wasn't a pureblood since.

The only exchange he had ever had with you was when Barty had cornered a few first years in the hall, Gryffindors with a loud mouth, having called out Regulus for Slytherin cheating during the game.

The marauders just so happened to be walking down the hall at the time, and before they could do anything about it, you walked in from the courtyard to the scene. It was almost scary, how you simply calling the boys names retracted them from whatever they planned to do. Well, Barty planned to do, Regulus held his usual look of indifference and likely didn't seem too interested in any outcome.

“Then, what are you in for?” Remus prodded with an amused look. You huffed as his voice became more soothing the more he spoke. You wanted to ignore him, you knew you should. That voice in your head did not like that idea, it seemed. Desperate for any bit of attention Remus would give you, and he seemed willing to hold a conversation. It latched onto that.

“I'm.. sick.” Okay, maybe you weren't a genius, but you certainly weren't that dumb. That damned voice speaking louder then any thought in your head.

“You're .. sick?” He prodded with a smirk and you bit your cheek.

“Uh huh.” Might as well stick to it.

There was a long pause between you two, you eventually gave a low groan and he smiled. “Well, I usually wouldn't suggest this for just sick girls.” He started and you peaked one of your eyes to glance at him. He was sitting up, back propped up by pillows. The second your eyes met your lungs suddenly refused to work properly, and he seemed to stutter for a moment.

“What?” You whispered.

“Calming drought. And a few drops of deflating drought. I take it before I get,” He gestured to his bandages, much less then yours. “Sick too.”

Your eyes widened at his remark. Eyes trailing down his form a bit, not noticing how it made him squirm. Your jaw went slack for a moment before you corrected yourself. He was a werewolf too? Who else knew? They allowed him at school? Regretting your own stupid excuse now. But you listened to his every word intently. You bit your bottom lip and slowly sighed. “Ah. Well, a little over kill isn't it?”

“Is it?” He chuckled and gestured to your current state. “I also do something to relieve stress, you know, before I get sick.”

You quirked your eyebrow at him and hummed. “Relieve stress?”

“Mhm.. I can give some suggestions, I can help you too, if you need.”

“You forget yourself, Lupin.”

Remus seemed baffled by your response before his jaw went slack. “W-woah, not like that.” He laughed and you couldn't help but smile at it. The crinkle of his tanned skin in the corner of his eyes made your heart throb helplessly against your ribcage. What had gotten into you?

“That's a real shame.” You continued to tease and Remus seemed thrown for a loop, before he quickly caught himself.

“Sorry, princess, I usually like at least one date before I go to such extremes.”

“How very proper of you, I wouldn't of expected it, considering the company you keep.” You smirked and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“I could say the same to you.” He tried to joke, but that remark made you pucker your lips a bit.

“Not exactly my choice.” You mumbled and he slowly frowned. The wolf in him whining helplessly as he seemed to upset you. He used to have it under control, but it seemed the company of other werewolves was weakening his resolve and strengthening Moony’s.

A silence followed, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He actually hadn't felt more at peace in months. You either.

“Wolfsbane.” He remarked and you looked up at him.

“What?” You whispered and he smiled at you.

“Wolfsbane. It's a potion to help with our sickness.” He muttered and you clicked your tongue.

“Have you ever used it?”

“Can't afford it.” He remarked quickly and you took a breath in, sharp. Forgetting to be conscious of your privilege.

“Ah… what does it do?” You asked carefully, and the conversation continued like that.

Your conversation faded into nothing but familiarities after a while, from your shared sickness to random facts. Almost like you were old friends catching up with each other, you learned of his parents, his friends, his childhood. It was simple and you were practically strangers, but by the time you had dozed off it felt like you understood a bit more about who Remus Lupin was.

You didn't share much about yourself, you hoped it didn't show just how desperate you were for his voice. You didn't even have time to think of blood status, how your parents would react to you making a friend of a halfblood.

It felt like you had an ally, someone you could lean on. It helped that his presence alone seemed to sooth the manic thoughts in your head.

~~~

It had been days since your encounter with him. You couldn't seem to get that stupid boy out of your head. So what was a good distraction when you couldn't get your thoughts straight? Studying, of course. The only reason you found yourself ducking into the library was Barty wouldn't be caught dead studying, less people think his brains were more than just a Merlin given gift. You found yourself smiling slightly at his utter ridiculous reasonings. Regulus could keep him entertained while you were away, you were sure of it.

You had to be careful with the two, Evan was easy to fool, too focused on trying to be on par with Barty, or too focused on making a name for himself, but the others? You didn't want them to narrow down what was happening to you. You didn't exactly know how they would handle it. Regulus was still young enough his mothers words meant the world to him, and Barty and Evan had expressed interest in more extremes then just arrogance. You chose to ignore those thoughts, because you loved the boys, no matter how foolish they were. You didn't claim to be the bastion of temperance. You didn't have all the answers for them, you certainly didn't have enough experience or evidence to the contrary, you just knew you cared deeply for them, and abandoning them for ideals imposed upon them was never an option in your book.

Walking into the library, the scent hit your nose like a ton of bricks. That familiar and soothing smell. It was intoxicating, having to catch yourself as your body moved closer without your consent. Your eyes locked with his almost instantly, as if he was looking for you too.

Remus Lupin was with his usual friends, though you noted Lily and Mary were with them as well. It wasn't anything big, as you knew Lily had started dating James Potter after years of embarrassing pining. Though, Mary was sitting awfully close to Remus. The voice in the back of your head did not like that. All of them took a full table for themselves, and as your body had started walking towards them, you suddenly realized you had stopped in the middle of the aisle staring at Remus. And he you.

It took an awkward cough from someone at the table and that seemed to break you and Remus’s staring contest. You looked over at where the noise came from and you saw Sirius Black, giving you the dirtiest look you had ever seen. You give a ‘hmph’ and look away from them, walking right past their table to one of the smaller ones near the window.

You didn't notice how Remus’s eyes trailed after you, nor did you notice when Sirius gave him a look of confusion, looking for an explanation. Remus, however, simply looked down at his parchment and waved him off.

“What was that about?” Sirius hissed at Remus, that was hard to ignore.

“Nothing.” Remus muttered. Even though his voice was lower than Sirius’s, you heard it more clearly than anyone else’s in the room.

They continued to talk among themselves, and being just a few tables down it was hard to ignore. It was mostly about whatever they were reviewing, it seemed Sirius gave up on trying to pry out Remus’s explanation. Eventually, it went quiet. You gave a sigh of relief, body unwinding. The voice in your head seemed to quiet down a bit, being in close proximity of Remus calmed it down.

This was a bad idea.

You tried to focus on your work, you truly did, but writing a 12 inch on the migrating patterns of horned slugs was as boring as it sounded. Could you even call moving from one side of a city to another migration? Sounded like a bit too much credit. Not that you could think of that for too long, soon enough, Remus was invading your mind again. The voice was becoming less and less content with the distance between you two. You rubbed your face and sighed. You have been at this for twenty minutes and you already wanted to go back to your dorm and forget this ever happened.

There was shuffling behind you, and you prayed Remus and his friends were leaving. When you heard books hit the desk next to you, you knew Merlin had a sick sense of humor.

You turned to look at whoever had the audacity to sit next to you, and your eyes locked with Remus’s.

“Hey.” He whispered to you and that voice shot down your spine like a bolt of lightning. You turned to look at his friends and saw that all of them seemed to be staring at you two, baffled. You quickly looked away, body stiff as you looked right back down at your parchment. You ignored him for a few moments, before you finally spoke up.

“Why are you here, Lupin?” You muttered, glancing over at him and noticing with a start that he had been staring at you already.

“To calm the voice.” He whispered, maintaining a stern and serious eye contact that almost strangled you. When did Remus Lupin get so confident?

You hadn't even noticed how the voice in the back of your head stopped, until it began to send pleasant rumbles threw your entire chest, like a purring cat. Oh, you were done for.

“Y-you forget yourself.” You whispered out in a stammer and he smiled bright at you, denting his cheek with his tongue. “You have that effect on me.”

You scoffed and looked away, covering your cheeks with your wrist and tried to pretend his words didn't rattle you. Cocky little-

“You can call me Remus.” He whispered to you and you closed your eyes and began to steady your breath.

“I will do no such thing.”

“Why not?”

“Have you forgotten who you're speaking to, halfblood?” You snapped back at him, turning to face him once more and you flinched at the surprised look on his face. The voice gave you a sharp bout of pain down your neck as if to punish you for hurting him.

There was a moment of quiet, before he turned to face you fully, both of you having forgotten your audience. He hung his arm around the back of your chair and that did nothing to calm your battering ram heart, as if it was trying to tear away from your chest to Remus. “You know.” He whispered, leaning closer as if he was telling you a secret.

You could have fainted right then and there.

“I don't think you really believe that, do you?” He whispered and you snapped you out of your thoughts. His smell. Please please please, whatever cruel gods were watching stop this torture already. “If you did, you wouldn't have hexed Avery. You wouldn't have talked to me in the hospital wing. And you would have long since hexed me for coming to you.”

“I'm still debating that, Lupin.”

“Remus.”

“Lupin.”

“Moony?” He offered and you looked over at him in utter stupefaction. You narrowed your eyes before one eyebrow arched in questioning.

“Moony?” You muttered, not noticing the shiver that went down his spine at that. “Moony.” He confirmed.

“Sounds ridiculous.” You huffed and he gave a brighter smile this time.

“Sounds amazing when you say it.” He whispered and before you could shoot something back, a voice called out behind you.

“Yo, {Y/N}! The bloody hell have you been!?”

You didn't know if that voice was a gift or an additional plague from the gods above. You pressed your thumb to your cheek and sighed. Preparing yourself for another shiver of discontent from your wolf, you leaned your head back to glance at Barty, and he was smiling, not for long, when he noticed Lupin with his arm practically around you, leaning into your space. His expression hardened.

“You! Get your damn hands off her!” He shouted to the entire library. You groaned and quickly stood up, Remus’s eyes still on you, as if he could care less about the scene to come. Barty was quick to make his way across the room and began to, and rather forcibly might you add, pack up your things for you.

“Is he bothering you?” He pried and inserted himself between you two, the growl from Remus was almost missed. You quickly shook your head as he put your book bag over your shoulder.

Barty huffed at your answer and put his hand around your lower back. “Bold halfblood.” He spat at him and began to escort you out of the library. You quickly paused, looking back at Remus as a realization hit you.

“Lupin.” You called over to him, and your breath got caught up for a moment, noticing he was watching you without ever moving from his seat.

“Remus.” He whispered back to you and it felt like he whispered that right against your earlobe. You took a sharp breath.

“Remus.” You whispered back and he sat up straighter. “I-I took your advice.” You whispered out, your hands gripping your book bag harder. You didn't think about why you said that. Maybe you were looking for praise? Merlin, what was wrong with you?

He just smiled at you and toyed with his lip, wetting them. “Good.” He nodded and you took a deep breath, about to say something further before Barty quickly hooked his arm more forcibly around your waist and pulled you away from the library. This would be a long year.

~~~

Weeks later, you were laying down on your bed and rubbing your temple. The green sheets that enveloped you were hardly soothing to your throbbing head. The voice, who you learned from Remus was indeed as you suspected, the wolf, had been furious with you. Between tests and studying, and not to mention Barty’s new found protectiveness over you, you weren't able to see Remus, outside of the stolen glances in the halls.

Barty refused to let you anywhere near the Gryffindor quartet, having told Regulus and Evan's that very night when he walked you all the way back to the Slytherin common rooms. Evan's was appalled, but Regulus seemed more disgusted then anything else.

It was like they formed a schedule to keep you away from any undesirables, every day, from potions to history of magic, they escorted you from class to class, and the voice was growing very impatient with their insistence. Even Regulus involved himself with the two’s foolish plans.

You loved the boys, but you didn't know how to explain that it physically pained you to be away from him. It was bizarre, you hardly even spared him a glance through the entire school year, he was just James Potter’s friend, someone to avoid. Just another person who didn't match your parents standards and thus, you needed nothing from. Now, it was like the very idea of going back to that was blasphemous. The wolf in the back of your mind howled out in displeasure at your own thoughts. What you would give for everything to be quiet.

As if to mock you, there was a firm knock on your door. You huffed and sat up, only for the door to be thrown open and Barty to let himself in. “Got something for ya! Looks like it's from your parents.” He announced as he plopped the package down, your bed dipped under its weight, and the sound of glass clinking filling the room. You huffed and stood up, arms crossing as you glared at him.

“Has waiting for me to open the door ever once crossed your mind?”

“It did, once, it scared me.”

You scoffed and tried to hide your smile. “I could of been changing!”

“Nothing I wouldn't like to see, dear.” He purred with a wink. You reached back and grabbed a pillow, pelting it at his face and he laughed, throwing his head back.

“Out! Out of my room!” You shouted, unable to help the giggles that left your lips. Despite the joy, you felt this familiar dread fill your chest. Your voice agreed with it, you didn't want to be alone with anyone. Not right now.

“And if I don't?” He smirked and held the pillow still. You bit your cheek, another horrible attempt to hide your laughter. Trying your best to ignore how a toad made its home in the back of your throat. You felt like you could cry, you didn't know why, Barty had never once made you feel unsafe, and despite his jokes, he respected you more then you figured to be normal considering how purebloods usually were. He was definitely your favorite RavenClaw.

“I'm calling your boyfriend.” You teased and he gave a dramatic gasp, his smile twitching a bit as he noticed your eyes growing glossy.

“Oh no, whatever will I do? It's not like he agrees with me or anything.” He attempted to continue the joke, but when tears actually began to shed, he stopped fighting, letting you shove him to the door. That comment alone seemed to effect you more then you let on. He paused, about to ask you something, before you groaned, managing to get him out the door.

“Begone!” You shouted and slammed the door in front of his face.

“Hey- Wait-” He called from the other side of the closed door, you could just barely make out Regulus call for Barty to leave you be from the common room.

You pressed your back to the door and tried to calm your breathing. Closing your eyes tight to dispel your tears and gather yourself. Breathing becoming heavier, and slowly sinking against the floor. What was happening? Why were you so panicked? Your wolf paced in the back of your mind, making your breathing harder to steady. You gave a gasp and curled up tighter. Your hands were shaking, your throat was scratchy, and you were sure you would pass out if your hiccups paired with the heavy gasps had anything to say about it.

You wanted to sleep, you wanted it to stop, but you had a feeling you knew exactly how to calm yourself.

~~~ Remus’s POV ~~~

It was like they were brandishing you like a trophy of some kind. He didn't want to think about it like that, like you were just some prize to be won, but it was getting harder. The looks Barty and Evan would shoot him in the halls while keeping you as far away from him as possible.

He was dying here, Moony wouldn't just shut up about you, and the boys kept harassing him about you too. Still not over the interaction he had in the library. It got worse when he admitted you were the one who laid next to him in the hospital wing.

“I mean, she's a pureblood, she acts like everyone else doesn't exist, you think she'd give Remus the time of day?” Sirius spoke up, ever the skeptic. He was laying on his back on the floor of the common room, tossing a pair of folded socks above his head. “{L/N}s would eat our poor moony alive.” Sirius smirked and tossed the sock pair at Remus who lifted his hand sharply and caught it without looking.

The taller boy was laying on the couch, sprawled out to try and ease the tension in every limb of his.

Sirius let out a low, impressed whistle. They had also found his new wound up Moony’s reflexes fascinating. Sirius especially.

“Have you seen the way they look at eachother? Like star crossed lovers.” James sighed fondly from where he sat in front of the loveseat, head resting in Lilys lap as she braided bits of his hair. Lily gave a fond eye roll, looking over to Remus.

“Starcross what now? Honestly, Remus, if you're shagging her you can just say that.” Sirius snickered but quickly his chuckle was caught in his throat when Remus sent him a deadly glare.

Sirius bit his cheek and slowly smirked. Interesting.

“He really does seem fond of her. Infatuation, maybe?” She teased and Remus groaned. “I am right here.” He grumbled and glared over, Lily giggled.

She was the only one he told about what had been happening, so she was surely just taunting him. He rolled his jaw and opened his mouth to speak before there was a soft knock on the portrait. The fat lady’s voice soon came, gasping and scolding whoever was trying to get in.

“Woah, after curfew?” James muttered, looking to Lily. “As heads, we should probably do some scolding, hm?” He prodded and Lily gave a dramatic hum of thought, pressing her finger to her cheek. “Hmmm…”

She glanced up at Remus and saw how his body stiffened and he sat up a bit. He was staring at the door like a patient and loyal dog. Her eyebrows raised in amusement before she shook her head.

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p.’ “We're off.” She cheeked and James gave a chuckle and leaned his head back against her plush thighs with a content hum.

“Sounds good.”

There was another, much less confident knock.

No one moved, Peter looked around the group from his homework before he groaned as all the eyes landed on him, safe for Remus. He stood up and walked over to it. He was gone for a few moments, before he walked back with an amused look, Remus was already getting up.

“Remus your…” Peter trailed off as he watched the taller boy quickly walk past him and out of view of his friends. Lily smirked and James tilted his head curiously at her.

“Remus is getting callers, soon enough, we'll have to set up a dowry.” She hummed in a serious tone, Sirius throwing his hands up.

“What? I always have callers! What's my dowry?”

“We have three chocolate frogs for whoever will settle down with you.” James remarked and Lily gave a startled laugh, covering her smile as James looked up at her like she was the one to gift him sight.

Sirius pouted.

~~~

You knocked, just once more. You didn't know why you expected them to be up, but the wolf in the back of your head was calming slowly, you had a feeling you knew why. When the door opened, the warm air seemed to pour from the common room, the very air wrapped around you in so much comfort. The smell came with it, and you could have fainted with how loud the voice became. Your hands found purchase on your skirt when you made eye contact with Peter Pettigrew. You both stared at each other bewildered. Right. It wasn't just Remus here.

Awkwardly, you cleared your throat and lifted the small paper bag in your hand, “I uhm,” You cleared your throat again. “Remus. Something for Remus.”

Peter slowly smirked before he nodded and hurried back into the room. You looked away and began debating with yourself. If you ran back to the dungeons, would he catch you before you got there? Your hands were still unsteady but your breath was finally growing even. What were you even planning? Give him the Wolfsbane and beg him to stay with you a little longer? Because him standing near you was calming? Merlin you should've thought this through. You sounded insane.

Your head snapped up when you heard the portrait open again. You locked eyes with Remus, both a bit too stunned to know what to say. You opened your mouth a few times and began to grow frustrated with yourself as you continued to try, and no sound left. You took an even breath and Remus gave you a small breathtaking smile. This bastard.

“A-actually, this was a mistake, I'll-” Your words were cut short when Remus reached out and grabbed your arm to keep you in place. His hand was much larger than you expected. You turned back to look at him and when your eyes met, your breath was once again snatched from your chest. You let out a whine that was so audible it was humiliating. “R-Remus…” You whispered out his name and that seemed to really ignite something in him.

He tugged softly at your arm to gesture you in. You toyed with your bottom lip before you obeyed him and followed. He lead you into the common room, and you met his friends look of utter bewilderment, and they matched your expression.

Remus ignored them, leading you right up the stairs to his dorm. You heard a wolf whistle from Sirius before the door closed behind you.

Everything else happened so quickly, but so carefully. He backed you into the door and you stammered out his name. You couldn't think clearly, with how intense your wolf was becoming. Like it was whimpering in excitement. You huffed as Remus gave you a look that sent danger signed flaring in every part of your body but your mind.

Your left brain was utterly useless around him, you decided.

He caged you in, and leaned his nose against your neck and took in a deep breath, savoring the smell of your shampoo and body wash. He seemed just as dazed as you did. You pressed your legs together, hard, and you squinted at the light above you, allowing him to take you in.

After what felt like hours, he pulled away. You felt so cold, you resisted the urge to pull him back. He leaned down over you, face just a few inches from yours.

His eyes glanced down at the paper bag in your hand and your mouth dried. “Got something, Princess?”

You closed your eyes tight and lifted the bag. He looked between you and it, not that you noticed. “For you.”

“For me?” He asked in a soft teasing voice. Taking it from your palm and opening the bag. His breath caught in his throat and he snatched it out, holding the blue grey sludge like potion in his hand. “Is.. is this?”

“I-I listened. Like I said, and my parents sent me far more then I would ever use in a school year so.. so I figured it would be a waste.” Your voice grew lower as he gave you a look you couldn't describe. Would you be honest? That you lied to your parents to request double knowing they wouldn't question it? To offer Remus just a bit of relief? Even if it wasn't much? You doubted it. But the way he was looking at you now, it felt like he knew. He set the bag down and stepped closer to you.

You reached for the door knob but he beat you to it. Leaning down as his lips hovered over yours, you held your breath, your fingers trembling. Slowly, moving to rest on his chest. He smiled, it was so small, so soft. You took a shaky breath and slid your hands from his chest to his shoulders. “Can I?” He whispered and you let out another ungodly sound.

“Yes.”

When his lips landed on yours, everything else went blank. You reached around him and gripped at the back of his uniform with desperate clawing motions. It was flashes filling your head. Flashes of Remus against your neck, then you on his bed.

You had no clue what was happening you just knew you'd didn't want it to stop. Ever. When he shifted on top of you, however, you noticed his hesitance.

You were both red, deep with rushing blood. His hands that were once around your waist were now to your wrists. He straddled your hips, but he didn't move beyond that. When did he take his shirt off? When did yours go?

It seemed to hit Remus, how foggy you truly were. He slowed down and let go of you. Carefully,he crawled off and sat down in front of you with a low groan. You slowly and carefully sat up. It was hard, with how little your core seemed to obey you. “R-Remus?” You muttered and he covered his face with his hands.

“This is a bad idea.” He mumbled and you pouted a bit.

“What?”

“You can't think straight. Neither can I.” He whispered. “I won't regret this. But I know you will.”

You paused for a moment and considered what he said. He was right. If he had continued, you surely would have gone far further then you were willing. You didn't know how many people would of been able to make that call.

You fall on your side on his bed and groaned. It smelt so much like him. Your eyes closed and you buried your face in the pillow. He slowly smirked.

Climbing up onto the bed and wrapping his arm around your middle. You leaned your body fully against his and he sighed. “Is this okay?” He whispered, nose to your neck and voice desperate. You nodded, rolling over to hide your face in his chest. Everything was calm again, for both of you. No voices. No howling or clawing, no thoughts of anyone but who was in front of you. He waved his wand and closed the canopy drapes for privacy.

You knew you'd feel safe with him.

~~~

You woke up feeling amazing. Too bad the other three were there to greet you two with teasing and vile innuendos you had never heard before. And you were friends with Barty Crouch. You couldn't deny how funny it was, so when Remus apologized you could only laugh.

You and Remus made a habit of it, meeting up together and finding comfort in the calm you brought each other. Only on weekends, as you weren't allowed to go to Hogsmeade on most occasions, so the boys didn't question you when you said you would be keeping yourself busy.

Busy you definitely kept, when they left in the mornings, you made your way to the empty Gryffindor common room, straight to Remus’s room. Thats were you were now. Laying in his bed and fiddling with his hair. He was laying between your bent knees and nuzzling his head into your stomach. You flinched a bit as he rubbed against the mostly healed bite mark. He lifted his head and gave you a concerned look. You bit your cheek and slowly lifted your shirt, showing off the large bit of mangled skin to him again. He had seen it before, several times by now. Usually due to him throwing a shirt of his at you the second you walked threw the door. It was kind of adorable.

His eyes fully took it in, running his thumb against your jagged and twisted skin, clearly confused. His wound healed when he was young, yours seemed to be getting worse. “My mother healed it the best she could.” You whispered and his face twisted in confusion, eyes meeting yours. You bit your cheek.

“My parents didn't want anyone to know so.. that meant no St Mongos.” You whispered and he seemed surprised, like a deer in headlights. You gave a reassuring smile.

“It's alright, pretty boy.” You cooed and ran your fingers threw his hair and tugged softly at the roots. He gave a low sigh and closed his eyes.

“There are rules for that, to keep the doctors quiet, you know.” He whispered and you slowly nodded, biting your bottom lip. He peaked one of his eyes open and tugged your lip from between your teeth. “I know.. my parents are pretty paranoid.” You mumbled.

He nodded and slowly got up to his knees, running his free hand along the scar, rolling you over onto your stomach, you obeyed easily. He leaned down and kissed the bottom half of the scar, making you smile into the pillow you were hugging. “Do you…” His voice trailed off and you hid a bit into your pillow. He frowned and crawled up further to kiss the back of your neck. As if to tell you he was there. You were safe. No one would hurt you while he was here.

“... My father was at the ministry. He uhm..” You felt pathetic, like what happened was something you deserved. You one agreed with your father, so what did that make you? You were just as bad as his mindless arrogance.

“He was voting on the bill, and donated a hefty share to get.. people like us banned from the highlands.” You whispered and you felt as his lips stilled against your lower neck. Before the kiss slowly deepened, almost bruising. “I-I guess there were people there that didn't like that. Fenrir Greyback followed my dad back home and- I guess it just so happened to be a full moon-”

Your words were getting caught in your throat. Suddenly it felt like you were being strangled. You quickly sat up and he moved off of you quickly. You turned to face him and gave him a sigh of relief. “S-sorry I- I couldn't see you, I just-”

“Shhh..” Remus tried to calm you. Leaning forward and rubbing your back carefully as he offers you his hand. You grabbed it and used it to yank him against you. You missed the security of being under him. He pressed his nose to your shoulder and you sniffled slightly.

That night was the closest you felt to Remus. It was a shock to learn his father also earned Greyback’s wrath, in much the same way.

You didn't want to leave the dorms that night, so, for the second time, you found yourself tangled up with Remus in a much more affectionate way, less intimate and more careful. That's not to say that his lazy open mouthed kisses against your skin were anything but love. And his deep thumb prints against your abdomen where he focused the frustration from your slow and careful kisses were anything but lust.

You both agreed not to label what you had. It was clear that most of what it was came from the shared experiences, the shared inflection, and of course, the terribly desperate wolves that would rather kill you both then be without the other.

It was getting harder, however. As the months went on, how you both would focus on each other after every full moon, how being tangled with each other was more gratifying than any prank Remus could ever pull, leaving his boys behind most nights, how you both couldn't seem to get enough of each other.

When Remus became a prefect, your meetings went from every weekend to every other night. You were falling for eachother, hard. You were sure you wouldn't recover from this, but instead of breaking your heart early, you simply caved to his every desire. Every question, every look, every touch was reciprocated. In turn, he caved to his obsession. Letting you consume what little sanity he had left.

Your friends noticed the change, the marks on your nape and throat, the bruised lips, the skipping breakfast and even dinner at times.

His friends noticed it too, Sirius seemed all for the idea of 'tainting a pureblood’ and James seemed happy Remus seemed to be love struck. He had spent all of his years at Hogwarts refusing love, but it seemed he fell into this one so fully and so helplessly, he had forgotten who you were.

You did too.

When summer finally came. It was like they were strangers again. You didn't even spare him a glance. Remus was desperate, it was like he was going mad without you. He knew you had called it off. He knew why you did too. He felt cheated, the one time he lets himself fall so fully and she belongs to someone else. You two had talked, you told him the last thing you needed was your parents finding out about you two. That after the last night, there was no ‘us,’ that you two never happened.

Remus was devastated, but kept it to himself. He knew by the look in your eyes that this wasn't the outcome you had hoped for. You both got too distracted with each other, with the fantasy of it all. You two never labeled what you had, so there was nothing to fight for. He wondered if you did that on purpose.

The next day after your conversation was the last night you snuck off to his dorm. It was mostly you watching him pack, the way his mother had taught him. He was telling you stories of his mother, how strong and resilient she was. How she taught him even the most mundane tasks were best done slowly. He said it in a tone that made you wonder, what exactly he could mean.

When he was finally done he crawled into bed with you. Once again, you fell asleep in eachothers arms. It was peaceful and content. It brought a smile to your face, trying to ignore the biting pain of knowing this was the last you'd have of Remus Lupin. A strange lecture and a night together.

He had changed so much of who you were, he had taught you so much more than you would've ever known alone. You were grateful life gave you him, even if it was just for a moment.

The morning would come too soon.

~~~

You loaded your things on the train, with no true attachments to anyone you were allowed to see, it was easy to just leave.

That's what you told yourself, anyway. When you sat down, next to Barty and across from Regulus, you fiddled with your book instead of reading it. Tears gathered in your eyes as Evan and Barty continued to debate who you had been seeing the past few months.

Regulus seemed not to be entertaining the conversation, focusing more on you as you sniffled. Quickly, you dismissed yourself to the bathroom. Leaving the compartment and ignoring their calls to you. Hurrying past students you didn't know with their varying looks of confusion and concern. You didn't even have time to think before your arm was grabbed.

Looking back and up you saw Remus. He was guiding you to a storage closet, you both said nothing.

He pulled you in and closed the door, and you came undone in his arms. You had kept strong about the separation, but it was tearing you apart inside. Remus had taught you to tame the voice in your head, so you knew now your reckless emotions were your own. You clung to him and sobbed, he held you close and you heard his own sniffles into your shoulder.

You were there for a while, eventually, he used his thumbs to dry your eyes, you looked at him and saw such terrifying love in his eyes. You bit your cheek and shook your head. It wasn't just love. It was desperation. Like he was begging you for an answer you surely couldn't give. You pulled away and his head hung down in defeat. You stared at him. Say it. You thought. Say it and I'm yours, Remus.

You both sat in silence for another minute or two before you sighed. Turning to open the door, still no words passed between you both.

As you walked out, your head down, you were greeted with a pair of polished black shoes. Your eyes slowly trailed up to meet the eyes of a shocked Regulus Black. His jaw tensed when he saw who was behind you. You hadn't known he followed you. Fuck.

“Regulus, it's-”

“Blood traitor.” He spat the vile insult and you felt like he slapped you. Your breath hitched and you reached forward towards him. He was young, he didn't understand. You knew the only experience he had with this was his cousin and brother both of whom, he confided in you, he felt abandoned him. You didn't know how to explain what had happened. You didn't know what to tell him. You don't know what to say. Your entire body was lit up like a live wire, and Remus spoke in a low tone.

“What was that?” He prickled and you quickly shushed him. Remus seemed startled but didn't say anything. Scoffing as Regulus marched off with another much lower repetition of the insult. You sighed and covered your eyes, feeling even more miserable now.

Remus reached out to you, wanting to comfort you again. Anything to keep you close to him. “I knew this was a bad idea.” You gave a heart broken whisper and Remus froze up, staring at you with wide eyes.

He didn't say a word as he walked to your side, moving some of your hair to behind your ear. Muttering a soft goodbye, one he figured would be his last, before he turned and walked away. Back to his compartment. He didn't want to cause any more damage.

You made it back to your compartment, Barty and Evan greeted you with concern and you waved it off. Your eyes on Regulus who was glaring at you. Luckily, the boys were distracted with their hundredth conversation of the night.

You turned to look down at your book once more. It was one Remus had given you, just to borrow, you wondered if he thought it would be an excuse. To see eachother again.

~~~

A week of being home, you were finally slipping back into routine. The first thing you knew you wanted to do was return Remus’s book. Once you did, he had lettered you back almost immediately. You knew you shouldn't, but it was hard when every part of your heart ached just to read his words. You exchanged letters with him several times over the week. With nothing else to do but write and wait for your betrothal announcement, there were days when three letters between you two simply wasn't enough.

Eventually, over the weekend, you convinced your mother to allow you to go to Hogsmeade. One hour of freedom to finally explore before your marriage, to your surprise, she agreed. You had finally gained ownership over your own vault so she allowed you to roam as long as you returned within the hour.

You did not go to Hogsmeade. You met with Remus, outside the Potters. You knew it was risky, there was a war brooding and you shouldn't be caught dead entertaining him, but you were weak. You would always be weak to him. It was just an hour, the worst mistake you had ever made. It just reinforced what you already knew. You and Remus were dangerous together. You found yourself not caring about who may have been watching. It was just a conversation and a few stray touches, but it ruined you.

Once you made it home, you watched the house elves scatter around, avoiding you. Your parents had sent you up to your room the moment you walked through the doors. They were in the living room with the Blacks, specifically Walburga and Orion.

You hadn't seen your father so furious before. Once you heard the door open, you watched through your window as the two devilish figures apparated away. You turned to your door as it slammed open. You straightened your back and avoided his eyes. “Father-”

“ ‘In the safety of our nights, I reveled in your presence. Knowing another werewolf was near brought a comforting embrace. And in your exquisite beauty, I found my heart forever captivated. You are captivating.’ “ He announced to the room and your blood ran cold. Your eyes snapped over to the drawer of your desk and realized it was open. Remus’s letters.

You looked to him and saw your mother avoiding your gaze, holding the small stack of parchment and your heart sunk to the floor.

“Father-”

“Where were you?” He demanded and you took a sharp startled breath.

“Hogsmeade, I asked mother-”

Before you could finish, he snapped his fingers and the parchment in his hand was lit ablaze. Ashes gathered at his feet and you couldn't help but let out a yelp. Covering your mouth and clenching your chest, watching as the last of Remus was burned in front of you.

“ ‘Each moment apart feels more arduous than I ever imagined. Could there be a chance, however slight, for our paths to intertwine once more?’ “ Your father spat Remus’s words back to your face and you flinched. “Where were you?” He demanded again.

“I-I went to the Potters. I went to the Potters to meet with Remus Lupin.” You sobbed out and your father gave a condescending laugh.

“You've involved yourself in filth. Do you understand that?!” He snapped at you, snatching the letters from your mother with so much force some of them flew around the room. “You have been a plight on this family since you were born! I should have sooner raised a son! I was this close to being rid of you, now the Blacks won't even take you for their disgrace of a fallen heir!”

You closed your eyes tight, bowing your head as your mother spoke up. “Where did we go wrong? You were such an obedient girl when you were younger! You used to be such a good girl, {Y/N}.”

“Don't lie to her! I will fix this. I will fix this problem. You want to entangle yourself with filth? I'll show you filth!” Your father boomed. With a wave of his hands every letter ignited. Shriveling them up to nothing but black spots on the carpet. You slowly fell to the floor and hugged yourself. Sobbing out in desperation, you wanted to go back. You wanted everything to stop throbbing and the pain to go away.

You wanted Remus.

~~~ Remus POV ~~~

Two months. Two months and none of his desperate letters got any reply. He wasn't ready for that hour to be his last goodbye. He wasn't ready to be without you yet. He wasn't ready to lose you.

He thought if he kept pushing it, kept going past the boundaries you set for yourself, you would eventually say you wanted him too. You wanted to be his and he wanted to be yours. Why was that so hard?

He spent those months moping around in his room. Bless Sirius’s soul for all he put up with. Remus would only get up to write, Sirius had to force the rest out of him. The black haired boy finally managed to drag Remus into the shower, then into the living room. Forcing him to spend time with them.

“There is a war waging! Stop worrying about that girl and drink for tonight at least.” Sirius shoved a wine glass in his hand and laughed as Remus curled up his nose in disgust. Lily walked over and pulled Remus over to the table, ready to play one of the many random muggle games she brought. Remus felt like he was going through the motions for the most part. Just doing as he was told.

There was a tap on the window, Remus ignored it. Long since learning his lesson about getting his hopes up. He focused on the cards in front of them as Lily dealt them. She had a sneaky hand, notorious for slipping them in her sleeve. His thoughts were only interrupted as Sirius muttered his name. Low and cautious.

He looked behind him and stared at Sirius who was holding up a parchment of paper, he recognized it instantly. {L/N}’s. It wasn't any normal letter. It was more of a card. “What is it?” Remus whispered, dread filling him. He knew what it was. He already knew what it was, but there was this small bit of hope that he was wrong.

Sirius looked to James who was reading it over his shoulder with a grimace. “Uh… are you sure you wanna know?” James asked cautiously, and Sirius winced.

Eventually Remus stood up and snatched the paper from them. His eyes widened and his heart stopped, slowly muttering the words to himself before Lily cautiously stood up. “What is it?”

“I don't think-” James began, and Sirius watched as Remus read it out, interrupting James.

“We, the noble and long standing house of {L/N} cordially invite you to the engagement party of..” Remus felt his words stop in his throat and Lily looked to James for an answer, he began to stutter out and over himself, before Sirius spoke up this time.

“{Y/N} {L/N} and Fenrir Greyback.” Sirius whispered and Remus crumbled the letter in his hand. No. This wasn't happening. Remus threw the invitation away and began to pace the living room, hands tangling in his hair as he clung to what little sanity he had left.

“Okay, well, let's figure this out.” James declared and Remus stopped his pacing and looked over at James with bewildered eyes.

“What?”

“Let's go crash a wedding. Well, a wedding party.” James mused and gestured to the four of them. “When is it?”

“It's tonight. Must of sent the invitation to me as a fuck you.” Remus muttered before he looked across his friends faces, slowly smiling. “You'll do this for me?” He asked softly and Sirius walked up to him, patting his shoulder. “Remus, I'll do anything to stop doing the dishes again.”

Remus gave him a glare as Sirius smiled cheekily up at him, before he turned to James who shrugged. “She makes you happy, man.” He offered before Lily leaned forward with a chime. “And no one deserves to marry Greyback.”

Remus slowly nodded and felt a rush of adrenaline. “Yeah. Yeah, let's do it.” He turned to the three, “What's the plan?”

~~~

“So let me get this straight.” Lily mused as she looked into the passenger hanging mirror, as they drove down the street like muggles. “Greyback turned this girl into a werewolf? And her parents are just going to.. marry her to him?” She scoffed and Remus nodded, clenching his jaw as he slipped his wand in his waistband.

“That's foul.” Sirius hissed with his head half out the window, smoking a cigarette. Remus once again muttered something in the affirmative.

James glanced back at Remus from where he was driving. “Okay Moony, you sure this will work? Just going to walk out with her?”

“If she'll have me.” Remus muttered and leaned back fully with a sigh. “Thanks for coming.” He mumbled.

Sirius nudged him and Remus looked at him from the corner of his eye. “Anything to ruin another pureblood legacy.”

“I'm starting to think this is more about that than helping me, Sirius.”

“Can't it be both?”

“Certainly not.”

“I'm sure it can.” Lily mused from the front seat.

“Certainly can.” James remarked and Remus groaned, followed by a fit of giggles.

“I can't believe she likes you guys.” Remus mumbled and Lily gave a startled gasp. “What? Awe, she likes us!?”

“Oh look, we’re here.” Remus interrupted her and she gasped. “Remus Lupin!”

“See ya.” He chuckled and climbed out.

The celebration was at the {L/N} manor. As Remus walked up, he was ushered in past the people getting their names checked. Not at all jarring, might you add.

His coat was taken by a house elf and another handed him a drink. He gave a small thank you and then winced when one looked at him with surprise and the other like he was dirt. His eyes scanned the full room, and they landed on the man of the hour.

He looked as slimy as he remembered. Like a sore thumb in a place like this, it just seemed to push how much of a punishment this must of been. He looked around the manor and noticed you were nowhere to be found. He remembered from your letters, your room was on the first floor. Well, time to go hunting.

~~~

You were in your room, sitting by your vanity and trying to push back the time as much as you could. Your debut was happening in thirty minutes. It was like the clock was taunting you. You sat in silence, with your mother putting the final touches on your makeup.

“You should have listened to me. You shouldn't have lied.” Your mother spoke in a cruel tone. Tutting out about your features as she did. “This wouldn't be happening. You could of been happy with that Black boy, he is friends with that Lupin kid too, you could of-”

“Could of lied to myself? Become an obedient housewife? Or sneak off with my husband's best friend behind his back?” You snarked in a calm tone and she scoffed. “If that's what you wanted, you could have had it. You are a {L/N}, yes, but you are my daughter. You should have known how to make this work for you. Without making us bring his kind into our family.”

“Ha! His kind? Mother, I think you've forgotten! I am his kind! And you're about to marry me off to the man who made me one!” You shouted, met with a firm slap across your cheek. You lifted your hand to touch the tender skin as your mother stood up and stomped to the door. “Finish up and be out here in 20 minutes, I will not wait longer than that.”

You were left in your room. It was quiet again. Your head leaned back to stop the tears that threatened to pour. You resisted the urge to cry, straightening up when you heard your door open. Taking a deep breath, figuring it to be your father. “I am still not ready.” You whispered.

“You look bloody magnificent, what else is there to do?”

That voice. Oh Merlin please.

You shot to your feet and turned to face him, startled. “R-Remus! What are you doing here?” You asked quickly, walking over to him to yank him fully into the room and close the door.

He instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist and smiled bright at you. “I've come to get you.” He whispered and you took a deep breath. “Remus, what are you talking about?” You whispered and he gave you a determined look.

“Do you trust me?”

“... yes?” You whispered and he lit up.

“Good enough, do you love me?”

“Remus-”

“Do you?” He pried and leaned closer. You took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “Yes.”

He gave a large and exaggerated sigh of relief, pulling a giggle from you. “Thank Merlin, I thought this was for nothing.” He whispered and pulled out a box from his coat pocket. Your jaw dropped and you looked around quickly before you rapidly shook your head. “Remus, don't be foolish.”

“The only thing foolish about me is not asking you to stay with me. I know this is fast, but I think I've known for a while.” He declared and opened the box. It was a modest ring, very unlike the large stone on your hand now.

“Remus-”

“Princess, I know. For once, stop thinking as a {L/N}. Think like a {Y/N}. Better, if I beg enough, would you think like a Lupin?” He begged and you gave a watery laugh. Covering your mouth with your gloved hand and shook your head, this time in amusement as he got down on one knee. He seemed to light up at your delight.

“You look like a fool.” You giggled out and he shook his head.

“Only thing that could possibly make me look like a fool now is if I brought back my mothers ring with no one attached to it, princess.” He implored and you gave another laugh. It sounded like heaven to him.

“Unless you want me on both knees? I can do that, darling, I can.” He declared and you shook your head. “Remus, get up and put the ring on my damn finger.”

He gave you the most dazzling smile as he stood. Taking your hand and throwing Greyback’s ring across the room. Giving you a goofy look as he slipped his mother’s ring on your finger. You gave him a bright smile and bit your lip. Before grabbing him by his lapels and yanking him down into a kiss. It lasted no longer than a moment before you both pulled away in a fit of giggles. “So, what's your plan to get us out of here?”

“Simple, really.” He mused and scooped up your hand and walked backwards to the door. “We run.”

Your jaw went slack and your eyes widened. “You're mad!”

“Think like a Lupin, darling.” He teased and yanked you out of the room. You have a startled yelp when you came face to face with your mother. Surely there to bring you to your debut. You looked at Remus who bit the corner of his lip and yanked you along.

In another fit of giggled and young foggy foolishness. You both ran. Ran past your mother, who made no move to stop you, past the ballroom, past several guests, when you were finally noticed you ran right past your shouting father and a rather angry looking Greyback.

You ran after Remus, eventually he stopped by a car, and you laughed. “You came in a muggle car!?” You exclaimed in delight and he smiled. “Get in, will ya!?”

You hurried in and bumped into Sirius, looking up at him with wide eyes as Remus closed the door behind them, “Drive!”

“Congratulations, pretty girl.” Sirius spoke up. “Lovely dress.”

“Thank you.”

You gave him a bright smile and looked to the front seat, James focusing on the road and Lily looking behind her seat and waving. “Hey! We met once before, nice to meet you officially!” She introduced herself with a calm that was certainly not matching the manic sounds outside the car. “My name is Lily! Lily Evans. Looks like we match.” She mused and flashed her ring. You couldn't stop smiling like an utter fool. “Nice to meet you!”

“This is Sirius Black.” She introduced, and Sirius leaned forward with a nod, you have a brief greeting, before she turned back to the front and put her hand on James’s arm. “This is James Potter, my lovely fiancé.” She chimed as your eyes locked with a stupid love sick looking Remus.

“Have I mentioned how I love your friends?” You whispered and he leaned forward and took your lips for his own.

Lily was curious when you didn't respond and glanced back, just in time for Sirius to complain. “Merlin, why am I stuck back here with the horny teens!?"

433 notes · View notes

perlelune · 9 months

Text

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | v.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Grandma’am’s dissonant notes fill your room as you lie on the bed. The old woman’s wobbly soprano has been the background noise to your awakening this early morning.

At least it diverted you from your dire thoughts.

You rose with low spirits, defeated. You didn’t dare leave the cover of the warm blankets.

You’ve stared at the ceiling for so long, the flower patterns have morphed into smudges of pale color swirling in your vision. It’s all you did the entire morning. Stare at the ceiling while awful thoughts collide in your head. Perhaps for hours. You’re not sure. Time has been a foggy concept as of late.

You can’t even remember when everything started spinning out of control. The beginning of your unraveling.

The day before Coryo held you as you wept in his arms. For a while, in the warmth of his embrace, the uproar in your head fell silent.

Now it’s all noise again. Chaos. You have no desire to climb out of bed, face the day. Perhaps it makes you a bad guest. But hiding is easier. So it’s exactly what you elect to do.

Hiding until it becomes an impossibility.

Or until the door knocks in that case.

The sound startles you.

You don’t answer. Instead, you burrow yourself further beneath the sheets.

The knock starts again. Stubbornly, you ignore it.

“I’m coming in,” a familiar, airy voice announces.

The creaking of the door reaches you and your brows crumple. A slight weight plops on the mattress, making it dip under you. You freeze, willing yourself to remain still.

A delicate perfume hangs in the air. Guilt seeps through you. It’s not like she’s done anything to you. If anything, she’s been kind. It’s about the hot layer of shame that has grown thick roots into your being.

Her gentle lilt flutters above you.

“I won’t move until you talk to me; I’m worried.”

You gnaw on your lip. The seconds stretch to minutes, arduously long, seemingly endless as she remains on your bed. It dawns on you how deadly serious the older of the Snow cousins is. She will not go away until you speak to her.

Besides, your mother’s voice echoes somewhere in your head. Your behavior is ill-fitted for a lady. Here you are, a guest in someone else’s house, acting like a petulant child.

Though you balk at the prospect, it’s time to face the world.

You huff out a quiet sigh under your breath before peeking above the blanket.

“Tigris,” you mumble.

Her thin blonde brows are pinched.

“You missed breakfast,” she notes. She tilts her head, scrutinizing you as her frown deepens. “First dinner, now breakfast. It’s becoming a habit.”

Concern glimmers in her honey orbs. Your chest squeezes. The last thing you want is for someone else to feel terrible. You push the blanket further away from you, sitting up as a contrite smile tugs your lips.

“Sorry.”

Tigris’ slender fingers latch onto your forearm.

“Don’t apologize. Just keep me company today.”

You attempt to deflect, “What about Coryo?”

The blonde releases a deep exhale, crossing her arms in frustration. You’ve gazed upon a similar crease on Coriolanus’ face before.

“He barely has time for me these days. Between his work with Dr Gaul, the University and…” A small smile plays on her lips as her voice trails off. “You of course.” Your cheeks heat at her implication. Of course, you’re aware of Coriolanus’ dedication to showing up for you as of late. But it never occurred to you that it could impede on Tigris’ time with him. It saddens you.

From what you recall of the glimpses of them you caught growing up, there was a time the two Snow cousins were inseparable. After all, ever since they were young, Tigris has been everything to him. A mother, a sister, a best friend. It was clear on Coriolanus’ face too. Fondness was etched on his face whenever he looked at his cousin.

She leans over you, her tone pleading.

“Come on, I really need a friend, and something tells me you do too.”

Shoulders sagging in surrender, you concede, “I’ll get dressed.”

She leaps to her feet, a victorious smile breaking onto her face.

“I’ll have the maid bring you some food before we go,” she sings. “When’s the last time you ate anyways?”

You purse your lips, shocked at the realization of how long it’s been since your last meal, eating having toppled to the bottom of your list of priorities the last two days.

You give an honest reply.

“I…can’t remember.”

Concern scrunches Tigris’ angular features once more. She then takes her leave and you glumly get ready for the day.

Food is brought up to your room. You nibble down every bite of cheese, bread and eggs until you’re full.

You find the massive trunk Coriolanus had the staff carry up to your room. You marvel as you peer inside, rummaging in search of an outfit for the day. His thoughtfulness astounds you. You don’t deserve a friend like Coryo.

Once you’ve removed your night robe, it pools at your feet. Your stomach sinks at the sight of your bare form. Bruises still speckle your skin. They are starting to fade but the ones on your hips and thighs are still quite prominent. The thought of Coryo touching you this way crosses your mind and you shudder.

You know you shouldn’t feel this way.

It’s like your friend said. It’s better that it was him than some stranger with nefarious intentions. After all, you were both drunk. You both didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s obvious Coriolanus is as inconvenienced by this as you are.

You should move on, let the incident scatter amidst the unfortunate mistakes of youth. It’s what common sense dictates. Otherwise guilt will chew you to the bone.

But you can’t.

Every time you think of that night, you’re unsettled, an inkling of wrong humming through you.

It haunts you. Though you wished it didn’t.

The remainder of the morning is spent with Tigris. The two of you scour the city in search of various fabrics and items her boss, Fabricia Whatnot, asks her to collect.

It’s a nice change of scenery and you welcome it.

You even get to see Tigris work on a dress, a magnificent wedding gown whose sight stirs a bittersweet feeling within you. It reminds you that your own dress was ruined, a matter you’ve yet to solve.

…If there’ll even still be a wedding.

As the afternoon sun crests to a scorching peak in the bright blue sky, she offers to stop by a café which you readily accept. You both sit beneath a wide umbrella on the outdoor terrace.

You take small bites of your petit fours, the sugar melting on your tongue providing much needed comfort.

“Does your grandmother do this every morning?”

Tigris’ lips pause above the rim of her porcelain cup, her honey gaze widening at your question. Realization then lights up her face.

“Oh, the singing? Yes, almost.” A fond smile spreads onto her thin lips. “Grandma’am likes to reminisce about the glory days of our family, you know…before the war.”

Your brows furrow.

The glory days...

Could the days before the war truly be referred to as that? The people of the Districts were forced to serve the ever-growing needs of the Capitol citizens, reaping no benefits from their hard work and being kept docile by the perpetual threat of execution.

Exactly like now.

You hardly see the glory in that. Maybe for the victors, the ones who get to stand atop the mountain while others try to claw their way up from the bottom until their hands bleed.

But, as usual, you don’t voice your treasonous thoughts, simply nodding in response.

Tigris and you both relish the comfortable silence for a while. She doesn’t urge you to talk and you’re grateful for that. Idle talk is an arduous task when constant worries gnaw at your mind.

While she may not know the depth of your predicament, you appreciate that Tigris picks up enough not to prod.

“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” she says. “Quiet. I like to come here when I need a moment to myself.”

Your gaze roams across the luxurious garden near the café. You get lost in admiring the pretty flowers and the swan fountain. It reminds you of your own garden, your beloved roses, probably withering from neglect. You’ll need to tend to them soon.

“It’s beautiful,” you admit. You nibble on your bottom lip before your eyes find hers. “I’m sorry for being…difficult this morning.”

Tigris’ shoulders heave as she replies nonchalantly, “It’s quite alright.” Mirth sparkles in her amber orbs. “I’m sorry for dragging you all over Panem to run those errands.”

You give a small smile. “It’s fine. I enjoyed the distraction.”

You look down and fiddle with your napkin, arranging it in different positions several times in your lap.

“Is something the matter?”

Tigris’ abrupt inquiry makes your head snap up.

You hesitate beneath her compassionate stare. After a long, quiet minute, your shoulders slump.

“I just loathe that I am such a burden to you and Coryo,” you mumble.

Tigris tilts her head, genuine confusion scrunching her features. “A burden? Don’t be ridiculous. You could never be that to me...” Her slender hand reaches across the table to drape over yours. “And even less to Coryo.”

A wry chuckle leaves your lips. “Well, he’s got better things to do than taking care of me.”

She shakes her head.

“Taking care of you is a pleasure to my cousin.”

You wince. “I very much doubt that.”

Tigris’ head lowers, her hand rising to her mouth to dampen her chortle.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, frowning.

“It’s just…you really don’t see how much you’re changing him?” She studies you momentarily before heaving out a long exhale. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately. She smiles.

“I haven’t seen him focus on something other than his ambitions in so long…not the way he focuses on you.”

Your jaw hangs slack at her admission.

She pauses, seeming to mull over her next words. “Coryo…when he returned from his service in District 12, he was so different. I thought all the warmth in him was gone, that he was becoming like my uncle.” A distant, sad look dims her eyes. “A cold, calculated man. But when he’s around you…" Fondness illuminates her face while she gauges you. "I don’t know, it's almost like he’s back to his old self. The little boy I knew, sweet and caring. My little Coryo.”

Her fingers tighten around yours as she beams. “You’re good for him, so don’t worry about being a burden. It couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Tears of relief almost spill from your eyes at that but you swallow them.

Instead, you return her smile. It may have been at the behest of your dead brother but you couldn’t deny how comforting Coriolanus’ presence has been, his friendship the silver lining above somber clouds. Coryo is the only one who gladly listens when you talk about Sejanus and how much it aches that he’s not there anymore, his passing having left a void that can never be filled. It’s too painful for your mother and your dad’s in plain denial. If it weren’t for Coryo, grief would have eaten you alive, you’re certain of it.

It’s hard to picture your life without him in it now, in some form or another. In fact, you don’t think you even want to. You may have lost a brother but the gods were merciful and granted you another.

After you leave the café, you and Tigris take a leisurely stroll through the Capitol’s streets. The talk you had with her rejuvenated you. For the first time since that awful night at Clemensia’s, you feel a bit more like yourself.

All is well until someone strides out of a bakery, someone you know too well. The sight of the familiar face freezes you in your spot.

Your eyes then lock from across the street. You watch the recognition dawn on his face.

He starts making his way towards you.

A surge of panic bleeds inside you. You briskly grab Tigris’ hand.

“Let’s go,” you urge, already pulling her in the other direction.

“Wait…what?” Befuddled, Tigris lets you drag her along as you start racing through the streets.

You don’t dare look behind you, your heart thundering inside your chest.

You dive into a busy street. The crowd cloaks you as you zigzag between bodies. Strangers give you dirty looks but you don’t care, focused on running as far away from who you saw as you can.

You and Tigris end up in a narrow alleyway, catching your breaths behind a dumpster.

You shoot worried glances at the other end of the alleyway. You lost him, you realize. A strange blend of emotions fills you, every single one carving a larger hole inside your chest.

“Who was that?” Tigris asks between uneven breaths.

Shame swells within you as your gaze lands on the cobblestoned floor.

“My fiancé,” you reply.

“Hey.” Your head lifts from your knees, your eyes traveling to the blond head peeking through the slight opening of the door.

Concerned cobalt orbs study you. You avoid his scrutiny by focusing on a random spot on the bed sheets. He enters the room. As he sits at the edge of the bed, you bring your legs closer to your chest.

His soft tone breaks through your hazy train of thoughts. “Tigris told me what happened.”

You unleash a shaky breath before finally meeting his gaze.

“I’m a coward,” you say.

His hand rises to cradle your jaw, his thumb collecting an errant tear you didn’t even realize had spilled over. “You’re not a coward,” he assures.

Your lip wobbles. Of course you are. You saw William, your own fiancé, and ran away from him. Who does that? An idiot and a coward. But you didn’t know what else to do. You panicked. When his beautiful green eyes locked with yours, all you could think about was those same eyes filled with hate and betrayal if he ever learnt what you did.

“I am,” you affirm.

Coriolanus strokes the side of your face, his tone growing firmer, “It’s a tough situation…”

His sentence is halted by a loud banging downstairs.

Your eyes go wide.

“What’s that?”

The faint echo of your name being yelled from outside reaches you. Your heart leaps as Coryo’s features go taut, his jaw clenching.

His lips stretch in a tense smile.

“I'll go check. Stay here.”

“I’ll come.”

You jump from bed and make a beeline for the door. He tries to placate you by holding your shoulders, blocking the exit with his towering frame.

“Princess, I don’t think-”

You glower at him. You can’t run forever.

“You can’t stop me, Coryo.”

Tension hangs in the air for some minutes, thick and electric, before he relents with a deep sigh, “Alright.”

Heart in your throat, you take slow steps down the stairs. Coryo trails behind you in silence.

Your name’s uttered again, the door rattling as he bangs against it. You flinch.

Trembling feet drag to the front door. Your hand spreads over the wooden carving. You take a deep breath before hesitant words stumble out of you.

“William, you can’t be here.”

“I love you. Of course I should be here.”

Unwavering determination vibrates in his tone. Guilt flares within you. You swallow the impending rush of tears. You don’t deserve him. He’s good, kind, honest…and you’re a liar.

“I saw you with that girl, Snow’s cousin. Talk to me, baby, please.”

“I just need a little time...alone.”

“What? Is this about the wedding preparations? Is it your parents?” He sounds confused and hurt. Your heart wrenches. You’re hurting him. It’s exactly what you meant to avoid. “Whatever it is, we can fix it. We can face anything as long as we’re together.”

The desperation thickens in his voice.

“Come out. I just want to see your face, please.”

“I…”

Your fingers hover above the gold door knob. But your hand is snatched by long, stern digits before it can fully wrap around the handle. Coryo tugs you away from the door. You gasp as his deep voice resonates in the lobby.

“You need to leave her be. She told you she needs space, William,” he says.

“Snow!” A mirthless chuckle ripples from the other side. “I knew it had to be you somehow.” You leap as the hinges of the door shake as William’s fists slam against it once more. “What did you do to her?”

Tears well up in your eyes.

“Right now, it’s you that’s hurting her,” Coriolanus says, his fingers curling around yours. “What kind of husband-to-be doesn’t respect his future wife’s wishes?”

Your brows collide. You wish he didn’t speak like that. After all, you’re the one at fault. But fear keeps the words chained to your throat.

“I just need to see her, please,” William insists.

Your stomach lurches. This is insane. Your fiancé is on the other side of the door and you won’t let him see you.

Maybe William’s right. Maybe talking to him will fix everything.

You sniffle and wipe your tears. You take a solid stride towards the door again, fingers ready to open it.

“I think I should, just for a few minutes.”

Your decision is made but Coryo’s hand cinches around your wrist. This time his hold is much firmer, on the cusp of painful in fact.

You grimace as he draws you away from the door, near the stairs.

He bends over you to whisper hotly, “To tell him what, princess?” Angling your chin upward, he sighs. “That you gave me something you denied him all this time? After just a few drinks?” Heat nestles in your cheeks. It is true. Both you and him got near that point so often, but you were adamant about waiting for your wedding night. It was your excuse every time. You doubt he’d take it well if you told him what occurred. While you want to believe your relationship will survive it, Coriolanus’ words are tossing fuel on every insecurity within you. Your confidence wavers, your hand sagging in his hold.

Coriolanus’ intense blue gaze is hard on you as he continues, his raspy tone low and foreboding, “Or perhaps, you’ll make up a lie? You really think he won't see it on your face?” A contrite expression settles on his handsome features. “You wear your emotions on your sleeves. He’ll know right away.” His thumb sweeps over your cheek to wipe a lone, stray tear. “William seems like a good man, but such a betrayal…it’d break the two of you before you even began.” He leans closer, his lips ghosting over your earshell. “He will never forgive you.”

All hope shrivels inside you, the last remnants you still held onto crumbling to dust.

You almost made a mistake. Of course Coryo’s right.

“Do you trust me?”

You give a frantic nod, releasing a shuddering sob.

He smiles at your response.

“Then go upstairs,” he instructs. “I’ll talk to him, fix everything.”

Seeing you linger at the bottom of the stairs, longing gaze darting to the door, Coriolanus squeezes your hand in reassurance.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’m going to make sure you still get to have a wedding at the end of this.” His smile grows wide. “I promise you.”

You search his face. Confidence radiates from his expression, planting the belief that he’s right deep within you. You shouldn’t have doubted him. Coriolanus has gone to great lengths to help you. Even now, he’s protecting your future. It’s more than one should ask of a friend, yet he’s doing it for your sake.

“Thank you,” you say. His hand slackens around yours, a satisfied glint dancing in his cobalt gaze. You rush up the stairs, not daring to look back in fear you falter once more.

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!coriolanus snow

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httpisaoki · 6 months

Text

'till death do us part ft. yu jimin

sypnosis. after 10 years of marriage, even if it was only an arranged marriage, you thought that she would at least stay loyal. least to say the sounds coming from your shared bedroom last night weren't just nothing. and the moment you shove the divorce papers to her face, she couldn't let you go just like that, can't she?

tags. domestic au, non-idol au, ceo au, cheating, angst, crying, wlw, marriage

warnings. cheating, arranged marriage, karina CHEATEDDD, oooo you mad mad, crying, ANGST. (that's all i think?)

-> part two. not proofread!

last night was foggy, karina had woken up naked, her fling right next to your side of the bed, an empty feeling in her stomach. she shouldn't have done that, she thinks, but it's too late. it's happened more than she can count and she knows that the fling she had wasn't going to end anytime soon. she feels guilty but you never liked her, or did you?

Now she stands across from you, the silence in the room makes her nervous. the papers in your hands made her anxious, she couldn't lose you. the tension in the room could be sensed miles away, you were mad--- and she knew it.

it's all clear in the way you stood against the door, a hint of anger radiating off your body. karina was scared, she felt the sweat on her palms, her eyes fixed on those papers on your hands as if she could burn a hole through them if she stared long enough.

"please... just... wait a moment." she pleaded.

why should she get her way when she had been the one who betrayed your trust? her infidelity wasn't excusable in any way. "I don't have all day." the tone of you voice cold, she knew if you was angry— she wouldn’t have a chance.

she wanted to whimper in fear, the coldness of your voice could send her to tears, a tone that would make even the most powerful man cower in fear. she could feel the blood rush out of her face, her legs shaking, she just couldn't let you go.

and then the moment of realization hit her, the tone of your voice, the way you were standing and the glare of your eyes had reminded her of something, a memory that she'd tried so hard to bury away..

"Please..."

she wanted to cry, but the fear of you turning her down stopped her tears from falling. she'd cheated because of her own problems, her own loneliness, and her own issues but she was still your wife. she was still yours.

she begged again, a tone of desperation in her voice.

the last thing she'd want was to lose you... but she knows it was her fault.

the words that would come out of her mouth right now could make or break your marriage.

she takes a deep breath, looking up at you, trying not to cry from the fear that was rising in her chest, a knot tying in her throat.

"please... i know that i cheated but..."

"stop." the ice in your tone was unforgiving, the lack of patience in those eyes would make just about everyone shut up and listen. you weren't going to be easily manipulated anymore.

"i don't want to hear it." she flinches at the tone of your voice, her eyes fluttering for a moment before she forces herself to look up again.

her eyes fill with sadness, those pleading words were stuck in her throat, a lump taking place in her mouth.

"after 10 years, really? I knew this would never work out." the anger in you voice had made her shiver. "but to think that you'd cheat with jaewook, one of my employees too, huh?" the venom in your voice forced out a bitter chuckle. "h-he..." the words stuck in her throat for a minute, she couldn't believe that you knew of her affair partner, then she shook her head slightly. "yes, him.."

the fact that you knew his name made her want to shrink. your eyes pierced through her, you knew every single detail of this entire ordeal. you knew how often this had happened between the two of them, you knew she had betrayed you the moment she accepted a drink during the business dinner.

her lips parted for a moment, her brain scrambled, panic and fear consumed her. she could see your anger now, you knew everything, she was caught red-handed. "you...you know everything.." her voice cracked as she spoke. You scoffed, "you didn't think that I'd be stupid enough to not keep tabs on you?" you smiled sarcastically,

"we had agreed on none of us seeing anyone and being faithful even if our marriage was arranged, right? I had to make sure. and I was right, you didn't stick to your promise, karina." the way her name rolled off your tongue, the tone of disgust as you said it.

the way you had said her name, her own name, with a tone of disgust made her want to sob. you knew everything, every single detail of this affair, every detail that she thought she'd hidden so brilliantly.

she gulped, her throat drying out at the fact that you were well aware that she's betrayed your trust. you had kept track of her, you had kept her in your palms the whole time and she was foolish enough to do such thing under your nose.

"beg all you want, I don't care." you spoke harshly, "you know how I don't tolerate cheating." the cruel nature of your response made her flinch. her lips parted for a moment before she said, "don't you care about me? don't you...don't you love me?"

as much as she was guilty for her infidelity, she still hoped that you liked her, that you cared for her, that you saw her as your wife despite the arranged marriage. but the tone of your voice made it clear that you didn't, that the only thing you were capable of feeling was anger, hate-- disgust.

you scoffed, "why didn't you asked yourself that before you went into bed with him?" a hint of sarcasm in your tone. "don't..." she wanted to sob, the humiliation of you reminding her of her own infidelity was torture. but the fact that she did it to herself was even worse, she was the only one to blame. but it's not like she had done it out of pure lust... no, it was her need of validation-- a need for some form of connection with a man. she'd felt so lonely in the marriage, but that wasn't your fault. she gulped, her eyes fixed on yours as the tears fell.

"Who do you think took you home after all those stressful nights that you drank until you passed out? who do you think supported your company after all those years? was it him or was it me?" your tone was cold but the look in your eyes showed that you were hurt.

"it was you..." she was reminded of all the times you'd picked her up from work after she finished her work, the times you've carried her to bed when she had passed out, the times she'd called you in tears. she owed her success to you, to your support.

a knot took place in her throat but the words couldn't come out, she couldn't find a single excuse for her infidelity. "you did...everything for me."

You hummed, "just because I didn't show it doesn't mean I didn't care. you out of all people should know that." you let out a shaky breath.

she gulped, she couldn't believe that she had thrown away 10 years of marriage for another man. your cold demeanour, your unapproachable nature, all of it was a wall she had slowly started chipping away over the years but the fact that she was the one who initiated that affair was the saddest thing of all.

"please, I'm sorry..."

"can we give ourselves another chance? please...we can...we can start over..." her knees were nearly giving out at that point, the thought of losing you was far too terrifying. but she was the one to mess up the marriage...

but you had been so kind the whole time, despite the fact you didn't show affection, she could see that you cared in your own way. she just had to prove that she was worthy of your attention-- your love.

"fill out the papers, karina." your voice was soft, wanting to get this over with already, you tossed her the papers. "no...wait..."

her heart was racing, she couldn't stand this anymore. the thought of losing you was enough to make her knees buckle, her heart sinking to her stomach. but the papers...

they were for the divorce, your divorce papers...

she looked down at them, her fingers trembling, the tears running down her face, and she thought of one thing and one thing alone.

she should've never cheated.

-> idk if this is a teaser for an upcoming series of mine or if this is just my karina rip post idk but yeah, thanks for the support !! :)

#aoki's works #aespa x reader #yu jimin x reader #karina x reader #kpop x reader #angst

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dyns33 · 6 months

Text

Family honor

So Alfie x Y/N Shelby wife will be a little series now

There were several differences between a Gypsy wedding and a Jewish wedding.

The most obvious being that gypsy marriage was not recognized by anyone except gypsies.

But if it wasn't celebrated, you could walk past a priest, a rabbi, an imam or the fucking King himself, to live for years with the same person, under the same roof, with children, that would not have the slightest importance for the gypsies.

Alfie Solomons muttered several times that none of this was kosher, but he respected all the rites and traditions of Y/N's family. Even drinking alcohol, he who hated having a foggy mind.

"Already quite foggy the rest of the time, love. But if your savages of brothers insist…"

“The savages insist.” John said, giving him a whole bottle of whiskey.

“I can’t believe this asshole is going to become one of us.”

"Oh, Arthur, I'm touched that you accept me so quickly into your heart."

It took several people besides Tommy and Y/N to stop them from killing each other, when they were completely drunk.

Then they insisted on walking together in the horse field, the older Shelby brother ending up giving his blessing before falling asleep under a tree, making it clear that he would slit Alfie's throat if he did not treat his beloved little sister correctly.

The wandering jew left him to return with the others, who were dancing and singing. A perfect wedding, completely normal.

If he was offended when Y/N told him that the Jewish marriage was practically the same, he didn't show it, just made a strange sound with his nose.

There may have been less alcohol, and it was legally recognized, but the rest was a gathering of a lot of loud people, not speaking English, jumping around and congratulating them on their union.

Y/N, however, quickly noticed the biggest difference between gypsy marriage and Jewish marriage.

Although they had been a little surprised and worried by her choice of husband, her family had decided to give a chance to Alfie Solomons, whom they judged solely because of his actions. The rest didn't matter in the slightest.

With the Camden community, it wasn’t so simple.

“Your lovely wife is going to convert ?” an old woman asked, although it sounded more like an order than a question.

"Ah, frau Aldermann. It is true that I am such a pious man myself, it is a very important subject that my wife and I have talked about a lot. Isn't that right, treacle ?"

“Good, good.” sighed a man, patting his shoulder, not seeming to understand Alfie's sarcasm. "This is very important, especially for such an admired member. Perhaps your mother was of Jewish parentage ?"

She could have replied that she had not really known her mother, and therefore even less her family, but her husband saved her from this discussion, which he considered ridiculous, by inviting her to dance.

A true act of love, for him who hated dancing, in addition to suffering terribly because of his back.

It didn't take long for her entire family tree to be dissected in every way. The old harpies of Camden were like all the harpies of London.

The fact that she couldn't answer their question was almost a good thing. This mystery made it possible to say that if we could not verify that she was Jewish through her mother, we could not verify that she was not either. And everything always went through the mother.

The deplorable past of her father and the Shelby family could then have been forgotten.

The problem was mainly that her mother was not Mr. Arthur Shelby Sr. wife, which made Y/N a bastard. A gypsy bastard at that.

Even when she didn't understand the language, she guessed that people were talking about her. These looks and these laughter, she knew them well. Her brothers had suffered them when they were younger, before they used their fists to silence the ignorant and conquer Birmingham.

But she wasn't in Birmingham. Her brothers were not there, and it was her husband's kingdom.

Alfie wasn't the last to comment on gypsies.

"You know, I expected to have to sleep in a caravan for our honeymoon. It would have been terrible for my back, I don't know if Thomas took pity on us or if his petty posh side is to be thanked."

“They had a tent for us, but Finn threw up in it.”

"Fuck off, love. You're kidding me !"

“Then we would have danced naked around a fire asking the moon to give us happiness, health and above all a lot of fucking money.”

"… Yeah, you're totally kidding me, you little rascal." Alfie said, mock irritated, pulling her in for a kiss.

He didn't seem to notice that every little word spoken against her family and their traditions was beginning to weigh on her.

At least it was never completely mean when it was him. Almost innocent, full of prejudice and stupidity, but not crossing certain limits.

The rest of the community was not so kind. Many had not appreciated that the King of Camden, such a prized party, war hero, respected gangster, charming man, ended up with a girl like her. It must have been business, blackmail, or black magic.

There was no other possible explanation.

For several months, she decided to be the reasonable adult, remaining calm and polite, taking the blows as best she could. Tommy had taught her how to do it.

He had also taught her the pride of gypsies. Honor.

So there came a day when she was walking through the bakery, and some of the employees made a little joke about stealing and fortune telling, laughing like the idiots they were.

Normally, she would have ignored him. But Y/N was exhausted, and Polly's voice repeated in her head that no Shelby would ever allow themselves to be treated like this, so before they had time to react, she grabbed the hair of one of them, placing a knife to his throat.

"Tell me another joke about gypsies. Then I'll tell you a joke about Jews. Then I'll kill you."

The boy squealed, calling to his colleagues for help with his big, frightening eyes, but no one dared to move. Because they knew she would go faster. And even if she wasn't moving fast enough, she was Tommy Shelby's sister and Alfie Solomons' wife. Literally untouchable.

"Come on." she whispered in his ear. "Make me laugh. No ? No more jokes ? You're going to play the victim. It's funny, people who complain about being mistreated, then do exactly the same thing to others while thinking they're superior. You're all the same."

She didn't comment on the puddle under his legs, nor the little cry of panic when she released him.

Everyone stood still, watching her leave, and when she met Ollie's gaze, she knew she had just made a mistake. She only proved that she was indeed the savage they all described, the bad person.

Alfie probably wouldn't be happy when his right hand man told him what happened.

He did indeed seem to be in a terrible mood when she found him waiting for her in the living room, sunk into the sofa, indicating that his back was hurting badly, but that he would refuse to talk about it.

"Come, love, have a sit. Come on, sit down here."

Not wanting to act like a child, she remained silent as she took a seat in the chair he indicated to her.

This was obviously not what he expected, because he didn't speak either, staring at her intensely, hands crossed, displaying a small pout.

“Do you want to tell me what happened at the bakery today ?”

“Why ask if you already know ?”

“I would like your version.”

"I threatened to slit the throat of one of your workers and disrupted production. Do you want to spank me ?"

"Tempting. Why did you want to slit his throat ?"

“Unimportant.”

"Unimportant, uh ? Unimportant, love ? Because Ollie came to tell me that some guys were talking bad about me wife."

Groaning slightly, Alfie stood up just enough to push a piece of paper and pencil in her direction onto the table between them.

"Names."

“Alfie…”

"I want the names, treacle. I've already gone around the bakery telling everyone that insulting me wife and her family was insulting me, and I don't like being insulted. Names."

“You always make fun of gypsies.”

"Wrong." he retorted, holding up a finger as if that proved his point. "I do it when your brothers are around, because Thomas can be a little prick, and it's hilarious to see Arthur react like a mad dog. But I have nothing against gypsies. Lovely people. The proof, look at you. And look at me. The two most wonderful creatures our communities could spawn, right ?"

Despite all her strength, Y/N couldn't help but smile, which seemed to please her husband. He then placed his victorious finger on the paper, insisting on names.

If she had shown mercy by not cutting, this would not be the case with the wandering jew, king of Camden Town.

No one insulted his wife. No one looked at his wife badly, no one criticized her, no one tried to take away from her, no one thought of her with bad thoughts.

“Not even you ?” Y/N asked with a mischievous smile.

"Not at all. Now you brought up spanking. You brought it up first, love, not me."

“My brothers would be furious to hear that you beat me.”

"Don't tempt me, I can spread false rumors all the way to Birmingham just for the thrill of them all running here, and finding us…"

“You’re the one who deserves a spanking.”

"Ungrateful wife. Threatening me, under my own roof, when my back is killing me and I have just condemned half the city for the love of her."

The Shelbys never knew about their sister's difficult first months in Camden. Tommy noticed that he seemed to be treated with a little more respect when he walked the streets, but neither Y/N nor Alfie talked about what had happened before this outpouring of acceptance from the community.

On the other hand, Arthur noticed marks on his little sister's neck, and he tried to strangle Alfie, even after realizing that it wasn't what he thought, because it wasn't really better for him.

And Solomons reminding him that he was his brother-in-law didn't help at all.

#peaky blinders #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfiction #shelby reader

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periprose · 5 months

Text

Priestess | Sayyadina

Faith is falling in Sietch Tabr. Reverend Mother Ramallo has a solution– marrying Naib Stilgar to one of the Sayyadina, in order to greater connect the people and the spiritual way, and enable Lisan Al Gaib’s journey to freedom, when he appears. This is your story as the chosen priestess.

Genre: arranged marriage to lovers, fluff, smut, (oral, piv, 18+) angst, lots of sci-fi Dune book references

Word count: 9.8k

Fremen Dictionary:

Sayyadina: Lower ranking priestess(es) who have not yet drank the Water of Life

Naib: Leader of a Sietch

Sietch: Cave/place of assembly by the Fremen

Sahar: Reader’s Sietch Name

Biet: Reader’s Fremen Name

Stilgar climbs up the rocky terrain, his fingers adeptly finding well-known grooves in the stone as he lifts himself to the absolute top of the cliff.

He needs some time to think over his conversation with Ramallo, Sietch Tabr’s Reverend Mother, before he heads back to the Sietch. Stilgar is not one to stay away from his people, his community— but for once in his life, it’s too close for comfort.

As Naib, there will be too many people coming to him at once, asking for his advice and input on things he is normally capable of answering. Friends and family will approach him closely, knowing too much about him to tell there’s something on his mind, and expecting him to be transparent as he typically is.

For this moment, though, he needs his head to be clear. He cannot be as jovial as he might’ve been in the past.

What Ramallo offered him is a subject matter he does not take lightly.

The sun is setting as Stilgar remembers their conversation from the previous hour.

“As Sayyadina, as Reverend Mother, my honest recommendation is that the Northern Fremen need to replenish their numbers.” Ramallo speaks in hushed tones of Chakobsa, the native Fremen language.

Stilgar is slightly confused. The concept of child bearing is not one that he has to be concerned with, as he, despite his older age, has not been married yet.

Something he admonishes himself for.

“There are many of us, but we could always expand. I have already suggested to the South that they could send some of their people here, if they would like to be.” Stilgar frowns. “So many Fremen in the south, densely packed, is an easy way to be attacked. We could spread out more.”

“Save your war-speak for later, Stilgar.” Ramallo tuts, and then sighs a long, languid sigh that has Stilgar feeling much younger than he really is. “I don’t mean simply bringing people here.”

He’s never sure what the Reverend Mother wants, but he always gives her his full attention. Something about staying in his faith for so long has kept him here, grounded, seated in front of Ramallo, ready to do what needs to be done. Not just for the Mahdi, as he is often teased about, but so he doesn’t lose himself.

“Please. Tell me.” He asks, kneeling his head down in a solemn movement, and Ramallo knows he’s ready for this.

“The youth of Sietch Tabr don’t believe in our faith anymore, do they?” Ramallo wraps a gnarled finger around her wrist, feeling a minor form of trepidation she is sure real Bene Gesserit have never felt. “They laugh when we speak of Lisan al Gaib.”

“They have not read the prophecy.” Stilgar swallows, unsure if he can really speak on this, when he regards himself as a humble follower. “They laugh because they do not believe in the Mahdi to free us.”

Stilgar thinks of his niece, Chani, who suggests that a Fremen could be the Mahdi. He knows this can’t be true, because he believes his people are fed-up— it should have happened by now if one of them was truly possessed with that capability.

“Sietch Tabr is too worldly now. I worry that if we lose our faith, we cannot usher in Lisan al Gaib as he should be, and our promise to freedom.” Ramallo fixes her cold, foggy pupils on Stilgar, the cloudy whites making the typical Fremen-blue appear more teal. He shivers at the idea.

“I want you, as Naib, our political leader, to take one of the Sayyadina as your wife. One of the lower priestesses.”

Stilgar nearly protests instantly, feeling embarrassed to even think of desecrating a Sayyadina like this, but the old Reverend Mother knows what he thinks of this.

“It would be a marriage between our religion and our people, a symbolic union. I believe our spirituality will be renewed.” Ramallo taps his hand. “I’m an old woman now. I cannot make as much as a difference as my younger sisters— and you and I both know it is written that we must keep bearing children.”

Stilgar swallows. He only vaguely knows of the Bene Gesserit, but he can guess Ramallo was deeply inspired by their way, marrying into families, keeping a physical bloodline going. The only thing that troubles him, is that he’s unsure of what this has to do with having children with a Sayyadina in particular.

“If you have children, especially with a Sayyadina, they are more likely to be faithful. Perhaps we cannot convert the others,” Ramallo grits her teeth. “But I believe we can start anew.”

Stilgar knows he cannot force himself on any of the Sayyadina. It’s bad enough that they cannot say no to the Reverend Mother’s command, especially with that shocking, unnerving Voice she uses, so he would much rather let one of them pick him. Yes, that’s what he’ll do— walk into the temple, and let them approach him.

He just hopes he’s not too old, too ugly, too entwined with his role as Naib. He wonders if that’s why women haven’t necessarily been interested in him— what with his constant vigilance to keep Sietch Tabr safe and with a good allocation of resources, which makes him rather unapproachable, not as dashing as a typical Feydakin.

He knows how Lady Jessica looked at him with reproach when he offered himself to her, to protect her and her son, Paul. Yes, even the name Paul suggests something more to him— he still thinks he could be Lisan al Gaib. But either way, Lady Jessica did not want to be connected to him like that— so Stilgar feels that he must admire how marriage exists in that intrinsic bond between two people, from afar.

On the other hand, he feels the slightest tinge of hope when he remembers that a Sayyadina would surely be impressed with his devotion. In fact, Stilgar feels a slight grin on his face, as he climbs down from his cliff, thinking of a veiled Fremen priestess, eyes of Ibad even bluer than his own, marking her commitment to the faith. Holy, but his, to see like no one else would, and to be devoutly loyal to.

Almost like a personal representation, an extension of their faith together. And suddenly Stilgar feels understanding to what the Reverend Mother said, as he walks through the night, back to his quarters, that there would be power in this.

You’re chewing on your bottom lip, knowing that it’s a needless thing to do— a waste of water, now, that a drop of blood has been drawn from where you have accidentally split your lip— and you can’t help yourself.

Reverend Mother Ramallo grasped you and your sisters’ hands during prayer this morning, and told you that Stilgar would choose one of you as his wife.

It’s a bit surprising. As a Sayyadina directly under a Reverend Mother, you simply expected to be on your own, until she died and one of you would have to take her place. Other Sayyadina marry, yes— but you’ve always studied under Ramallo and assumed that you would not have to.

You know the Bene Gesserit— as far away as they are to you— form alliances like this with men, and it’s an honourable thing, typically, to produce a child from a union and continue on a legacy of people. It’s with that line of thinking that you asked Ramallo if this is what you were meant to follow.

“Sahar.” Ramallo used your Sietch name, the one that is only known among your sisters for the most part, as most Sayyadina consider their Sietch name to be their sacred name. “Smarter than I sometimes give you credit for. Yes, like our fellow priestesses, we too can create children for the sacred purpose of replacement.”

You smiled, but Ramallo had a slightly weary look in her eyes.

“I don’t want you girls to forget the sacred duty. Continue the faith. Do not let others forget our long wait for the Lisan al Gaib. Pass this onto your children, if you have them.”

You nodded, and whispered a silent prayer that hopefully soon he would be found, and that in itself would be enough to push people.

So now you wait. You know Stilgar— you’ve conversed with him before, in lunch circles, at the deathstill. He was kind enough— he always bowed when he greeted you, and you liked that, liked that he acknowledged your importance in your role here, however small it may be to you. And he always had a careful, leaning inwards glance, where he would be intently listening to whatever you had to say, even if you simply wished him well and hoped that the Maker would bless him and his passage.

It also significantly helped that he was so handsome to look at, too. You’ve heard women murmur about their surprise on his lack of a wife, and how they’d be grateful to take him, if they got the chance. You don’t disagree– you know you’ve spent many a moment glancing too much at him.

But Stilgar seems intensely busy, and you do not be the one to pull him away from his duties. You have had the privilege of being unaware of fighting, of battles and duels, and now to be potentially married to him, it feels like you’ll simply not fit into his life.

And, on the other hand, as you glumly sit on your bedding, rolling a pebble on the stone floor, you think about how you’ve had little-to-no experience with men.

It’s not that it wasn’t allowed, you’ve always been preoccupied with your faith. With the Reverend Mother.

You know how Fremen men, especially warrior men like Stilgar would be. They have appetites— your fellow Sayyadina sister Nezua tells you about all her crazy endeavours, while you listen somewhat enviously. There’s a reason why Fremen men take so many wives.

Your stomach lurches a little at that. Although multiple wives are common, to continue to reproduce as efficiently as possible, you dislike the notion for some reason— but you feel selfish and wonder if it is because, as a priestess, you’ve had special treatment until now.

Nezua walks into your quarters, and taps your shoulder.

“Yes?”

“He’s outside.” She takes your hand. “Don’t worry, Sahar. I am sure he will not pick one of us— he will probably pick Ranira. She barely wants to be Sayyadina.”

“But isn’t that against the point?” You squeeze your hands together. “For a union between faith and people—”

“C’mon, Sahar. Don’t tell me you really believe that.” She rolls her eyes. “Whoever ends up being Stilgar’s wife will probably be in his house most of the time, ‘praying’, but really just dutifully waiting for him.”

“I suppose…” You don’t want to tell Nezua that she’s wrong. That Stilgar is more devout than she thinks, that he’s not a cheat looking for a free wife to use while pretending to care about the faith.

Stilgar has always come to the temple to pray, even when it is not necessary for a man of his standing to do so— as he often speaks of needing to continue his worship towards the Maker, the One God, and Ramallo is always pleased to let him in. She wouldn’t do that if he had some sort of ulterior motive, as other less honourable men have in the past.

It’s with a jolt that you realize you already care for him on some level. At the very least, you think highly of him.

Nezua pulls you up off your bedding, and you adjust your veil before going off into the main prayer hall with her.

Upon seeing the arrival of all six Sayyadina sisters— the current number of high priestesses directly under Ramallo— Stilgar pushes himself into a deep, reverent bow, and as he arises again, his gaze seems to linger on you before coming across your sisters.

You feel both excited to potentially be picked, and terrified to leave the temple where you have lived your whole life.

Stilgar can’t help but have his eyes drawn towards to you. Not just because you’re beautiful— you are, though, with the eyes of Ibad, deep blue pupils, a wise, judicial expression upon your face— and he wonders why.

Not out of disrespect, but Stilgar often sees the Sayyadina as being sort of withdrawn, within themselves, perhaps solemn in the religious vows they have taken. Even now, your sisters don’t meet his glance as often as you do.

Stilgar thinks you may be defiant. Maybe a troublemaker of sorts. His heart has a sudden thrill at the idea, but his mind knows this isn’t what’s necessary for this arrangement.

“Hello, sisters.” He smiles in a firm, thin line, meant to be placating to those around him. “I believe you know why I’m here. I hope this will not be an uncomfortable process for us all.”

He takes another look at you. No, you’re simply… you’re taking him in. And Stilgar decides that’s overall better than being defiant. Closer to the values of a leader, not even in just a spiritual way as the Reverend Mother had suggested to him.

You’re gauging his reactions, trying to read if he’s more of a rascal than he lets on— but he meets your previous idea of him, a reverent, kind man trying not to do harm, and your mouth settles into a assured, small smile.

Stilgar feels comforted, pleased even by your expression, and he knows he’s going to pick you.

”Sayyadina—” He points to you so there’s no confusion, and your sisters appear as neutral as they can, while you read micro-expressions of either relief or disappointment. “I would like to speak to you on this matter.”

You shuffle in silence as you leave with him to a different, quieter corridor, and as you turn and fix your veil, Nezua flashes a grin at you.

So your feelings were that obvious, you think.

Stilgar is a great deal taller than you. You have to peer upwards to really look at him, and you think he likes that— there’s a slight twinge in his eyes that makes you feel easily drawn to him.

“Why me, Naib?” You ask, and Stilgar stares at you for a moment longer, before tearing his eyes away to stare at the architecture of the temple.

“You have a knowing look in your eyes, Sayyadina.” He responds in turn to your use of Naib— a term denoting him as Leader of the Sietch. You use it so not to be overly familiar with him, but you understand you both respect each other.

“So you picked the most shrewd of us, is that it?” You wrinkle your nose in a slight laugh, but then actually grin as Stilgar laughs.

“One could call it shrewdness. I simply see that you are not afraid, you look for what you know you must find. Only great leaders make the approach.” He explains this so clearly, you were not even entirely aware that you were doing such a thing.

“It only makes sense to do so, Naib. I could not just stand there and allow you to do all the decision making.” You admit with tact, so not to drive him away.

He nods. “That is why you will be a great one.”

Stilgar seems comfortable with you already, and yet his expression takes a pained look for a moment.

“It's for that reason I do not want to force you into this… uh, arrangement.” He admits, and you are taken aback for just a moment, just a slight gasp.

“What makes you think I don’t want to be your wife?” You speak too soon, maybe too boldly but Stilgar likes that. Despite not even being betrothed yet, you are so forward with him, so ready to be claimed by him.

And he's just as willing a participant to be claimed by you, so he smiles, watching you turn a little flustered, but you let your feelings for him stay apparent for a moment.

It's not like there's room for privacy in a marriage, you think.

An arranged marriage, you admonish yourself. He’s here only in the most professional of terms. Don’t complicate this with your idiotic feelings, you still have a job to do.

“I just meant that– it would be an honour to be associated with you, Naib.” You keep your head tilted downwards, trying your best to be the reverent Sayyadina you’re known as.

��Of course.” He swallows, unsure if you’ve suddenly become shy, or that you’ve decided to be more cunning– something he admires anyways. He thinks not many women would actually be attracted to him, what of the mug he calls a face, and so he decides to just be glad that you’re willing to be with him.

“Okay, Sayyadina. If you’ll have me as your husband, then,” He grasps your hands in both of his, and he has the kindest look in his eyes, and you look back up at him, feelings simmering on the inside as you maintain a peaceful facade. “We will have our engagement arranged soon.”

Then, ever so gently, he pushes back a part of your veil, wanting to see your face better.

You visit him more often after that. Usually in the hall, where there are other people, and you do this so people don’t think you’re too in love with him already– visiting him secretly would only prove that, suggest some sort of affair of a human connotation.

By being around the others, people feel that things are coming into place– religion and leaders are creating a strong, united front that will lead the Fremen to peace. More believers for the Lisan Al Gaib. And you are glad to already be pushing people along the path that Ramallo set out for you.

Stilgar has a stronger look at you, now. Not just the polite glances of before. With every conversation, he takes you in, drawing more and more conclusions. And with every moment, he learns more about you, and he likes what he learns, too.

He sees that you like your food spicy, as does he. And you especially enjoy tabara– the soft sweet cake made of tabaroot, honey, and spice, rich and sweet in flavour, adorned with fruit. It’s a rarity in Arrakis, since a few of the fruit come from offworld traders– so he gives you his portion and you two argue over this, before Stilgar eventually puts his foot down as Naib.

“You should accept. Extra portions go towards those who need it, not me.” Stilgar says, ever the humble one as you’ve come to know him.

“Except this isn’t an extra portion, is it? Sayyadina aren’t supposed to indulge so much, leaders like you may deserve it as you do such hard work.” You taunt him, knowing that you’re both so similar– you could argue forever with Stilgar because you’re equally as willing to sacrifice things for each other.

Great leaders, indeed.

“Sayyadina, don’t make me remind you how important your creed is.” He tuts, and you find yourself simmering with attraction to him– you are beginning to look forward to these conversations more and more everyday. “Your work is just as important– don’t do a disservice to your life just for me, okay?”

The people around you shift in their spots on the floor, to listen more closely, and you recognize that although you and Stilgar grow closer– the intended effect is taking place. People are supportive either way.

Maybe you don’t have to be distant, overly religious, to win support. Maybe, like what Ramallo said, they need to see how spirituality can touch people, and how you’re just a person as well.

He places the piece of cake in your bowl again. “Accept it as a gift, Sayyadina.”

You smile up at him, squeeze his hand without thinking. “Okay, Naib. Thank you.”

Stilgar cannot stop thinking of you, even when he is training Usul to fight in the Fremen way.

He remembers your last meeting, a few weeks after your initial one– and then how you said in two days time, after your faithful prayer that the Shai-Hulud would allow your union to be peaceful, you could begin the engagement ceremony. And Stilgar focused on how serious you were– how holy this approach was, how you seemed to glow from within, with some otherworldly energy, and even now he could tell he was enamoured with you. With that strong gaze, eyebrows tensed and purposeful in their thought.

Usul– Paul, at this moment, with his lack of focus– cannot stop staring at Chani while she practices sparring with her friend.

“Usul. Usul.” Stilgar shakes his shoulder, and Paul finally tears his gaze away. “You’re too distracted, my friend.”

“I’m sorry, Stilgar.” Ever the charming, young lad, Paul smiles placatingly towards Stilgar, and even he is too struck by his charisma to avoid it. “I’m here. I’m ready.”

“Please, tell me what bothers you.” Stilgar knows, already, as Paul stares down at his hands, that the boy has eyes for his overly tenacious niece. “Is it a matter of the heart?”

“Yes.” Paul exhales. “It’s not important right now. How did you know?”

Stilgar smiles reproachfully. “I… I suppose I should tell you honestly, before the others get to know.”

It strikes Paul that the Fremen trust him so readily– even Chani, with her misgivings about the prophecy, seems to be swayed towards him, and he does not know if he enjoys the attention, the privilege this grants him. Again, he is struck with that terrible purpose– that he will use these people for his own benefit.

Stilgar interrupts his line of thought. “Soon, I am to be married to one of the priestesses.”

Paul grins. “Ah, Stilgar, you rogue. You’re distracted, too.”

“Yes.” Stilgar admits, and he thinks of you with your deep blue eyes, your careful-yet-understanding glance, and he longs to see you again. To get to know you better. Yes, Stilgar may not truly know you, but he feels he has been on your side this whole time. Every glance at the temple, every cursory conversation at the deathstill, it has all been building up to something– perhaps not what he had imagined it to be, but he would never consider himself unlucky for this, or that Ramallo could ever be wrong about her plans.

As Naib, though, he still has his duties, and he tuts and tells Paul to get back on it. And Paul, strong young man wanting to prove himself, uses his Bene Gesserit training to imbue a level of focus that no woman could possibly break.

The engagement ceremony day is finally here.

You're excited, yet nervous to be known as Stilgar's wife. It feels more real with every approaching moment– it’s not just a silly, girlish fantasy, it’s something that everyone will see and know as a tangible union.

You haven't got any time to see him– Stilgar has been away with other Feydakin, no doubt unleashing hell on Harkonnen troops– and so you wait for his return.

The first of many waiting periods, you know that. You always knew this was going to be more of a political marriage– more in meaning for Sietch Tabr than really having to be around each other.

But you miss him, anyways. You like him, and despite your attempts to focus on praying to the Maker that he will be okay, you search for him on the sandy horizon every minute of this auspicious morning, the sun blearing into your eyes.

“You know he hasn’t come this far without his own talent.” Nezua reminds you, as she watches you peer up, blinking in the sunlight. “He’s not Naib for no reason, Sahar.”

All priestesses– both low and high– and other religious Fremen crowd around the outskirts of Sietch Tabr, hidden under cliffs in order to stay in the shade. Yet you reach outwards to look at the sun, risking your sweat even as you know you’re supposed to reserve it.

Lady Jessica, part of the sacred mother-and-son duo from the outer world, watches you with a gaze you cannot place. You know it is not simple curiosity– there is something new and malicious in her stare that has only heightened after Stilgar had asked to be betrothed to you.

A sudden gust of wind blows sand around you two, and Nezua tightens her veil, firmly jutting her jaw in a way that tells you she must be right, that you worry about nothing.

Ten minutes later, after praying and hoping, Stilgar returns over the sunrise, victorious in battle, and you feel he looks exhausted– yet his face breaks into a smile when he sees you.

He is greeted by many Fremen, fellow family members, but Stilgar pushes them aside, making his way directly towards you.

And you let yourself be pulled upwards by him, as he grasps your hands.

There’s something sweet and endearing here– almost innocent in how he looks at you, as if he’s been waiting to see you again just as long as you have. But you quickly remind yourself that this moment is not just yours– it would be considered somewhat heartless by other Fremen if Stilgar did not appear to like you, and by extension, the whole marriage’s point would fail.

“Sayyadina–” He holds up the Water Rings, the metallic counters representing the volume of water a Fremen could release into the deathstill. Here, they mean that you will be tied to Stilgar, as you are now betrothed to him. “I ask you to be married to me, by nightfall.”

“So soon?” You ask, wondering why he would want to do it so early.

“It cannot wait much longer. Reverend Mother Ramallo is not well.” He tells you, and your heart sinks, wondering why your dear reverend mother has not told you about this.

You’ve seen the signs– she struggles with fine motor skills and often her cataracts make it difficult to see anything– but you are still surprised.

“Okay.” You swallow, and then smile up at him, and he squeezes your cheek in a fond gesture that makes you feel heat rise there.

“We will be wed tonight.” He calls out in Chakobsa, and the Fremen around you rally with glee, and you feel that whatever this is, even if Ramallo does not live to watch it play out– it’s working.

The unmarried women of the tribe fix your hair with the rings Stilgar presented to you, and you feel ever the part of the blushing bride. You know it’s not wrong to genuinely have feelings in this arrangement– you just hope Stilgar feels the same way.

Chani grins at you. You know her well– you’re around the same age, you’ve grown up somewhat together– and you wonder if she feels odd about her uncle marrying you.

“No, if it means I can call you Auntie, I’m happy.” She jokes, and you shove her as she laughs.

Chani rarely laughs like this as of late. She’s always so hard on herself– she thinks she has to be because of how indoctrinated so many Fremen are to the faith. And despite your life as a Sayyadina, Chani has never let your conflicting beliefs stop her love for you.

You only wish she’d be more careful as a warrior. As a freedom fighter, Chani sometimes lacks restraint– so you’re grateful to see her happy.

“Well, maybe some day you’ll be married, too.” You squeeze her hand. “To a great warrior.”

“I don’t know, Biet.” Chani calls you your Fremen name, not your Sietch one, which will be used tonight at the wedding. “Let us focus on you for now.”

“I just… I don’t know if he feels the way I do.” You suddenly admit, and the fear that you’re still going to be lonely crops up.

Chani shakes her head, that hard, tough scowl on her face back again. “If there’s one thing I know about my uncle, it’s that he’s not an idiot.”

She presses her cheek to yours. “Don’t you understand how important you are, Biet? How special you are, not just to me and everyone here, but to him especially. Stilgar has not stopped speaking of you for the last couple of weeks.”

You smile softly at that, thinking of how ardently Stilgar looks at you now, how you’ve gotten to know each other over the last few weeks of basic conversation. More close than ever, and yet just far enough that you keep wondering. Is it admiration, gratitude that you’re willing to serve a greater purpose, or something more? You know it’s selfish, but you want him to like you. To love you.

“Everybody knows, even Muad’Dib.”

At the mention of Muad’Dib, you can’t ignore the slight tension in your spine. Both you and Stilgar have discussed your belief in his abilities, his potential to be the one– but you know that Chani does not share that.

Still, you hear a slight shift in Chani’s tone as she says his name, and you give her a glance.

“You like him, I think.” You tease, and she tells you to shut up in Chakobsa.

You wonder if Muad’Dib was the one who shared this information to his mother, which would make her dislike of you understandable. You get the sense she’s power-hungry, terrifying– she would’ve been a greater candidate for this marriage, an otherworldly mother that fits the prophecy, representing not just the union of politics and religion, but with the power of the Bene Gesserit– and you find that you resist her, anyways. Resist the idea that everything must be for this one purpose.

You want to keep Stilgar to yourself, and it almost frightens you that you might be going against something that you’ve been taught to believe from a young age.

You’re no Chani.

The dark of the night spreads across Arrakis.

Stilgar begins the trek up the dune, where you wait, bathed in the moonlight– you’re wearing a different outfit, a dress with intricate beading marking your place as a bride, and instead of a veil, you are wearing a much thinner, transparent shawl that allows Stilgar to make out your silhouette. Your hair is interwoven with his Water Rings.

Stilgar has always known you are beautiful, but especially now of all times, with your blue eyes reflecting him in the silver moonlight as he meets you at the top of the hill– and it’s not a distraction, because he’s meant to be here with you.

He likes you a lot– there’s a taut feeling in his throat, as he realizes he’s watched countless friends and family members get married, but never thought of himself as one of them– and in the past, Stilgar had always felt there was something wrong with him for not marrying sooner. But now, he’s so thankful he waited, because it’s you. His holy, veiled priestess.

You share his faith, after all– but over the last few weeks he’s seen that you share his judgement, too. He only hopes that his feelings will be returned some day and that he won’t scare you off– Stilgar knows he can sometimes be too much.

Reverend Mother Ramallo approaches you two from the other side of the dune. She speaks in Ancient Chakobsa– old marriage passages from the faith, hymns that are sacred in their meaning– and the unmarried women below, begin their chanting and agreement with the hymns. They dance.

Then, Ramallo asks Stilgar in Chakobsa, if he is willing to take care of you, to entirely claim you in every way as the Fremen faith dictates– to not leave you behind. You know she cares for you so deeply, as she’s watched you grow up from a young girl, and you hear a slight twitch in her voice, giving her away as someone who will miss you.

Stilgar responds without hesitation that yes, he will always be there for you. And you believe him. You don’t hear a hint of irony or lying in his tone.

Maybe this isn’t just a marriage of political nature.

Ramallo yells in Chakobsa, using the Voice: “It is finished!”

Celebrations are loud, jovial, necessary after the Fremen endured hardship from the Harkonnen. People are dancing, eating, congratulating you.

You’re happy to receive their blessings, and give them back if they wish to hear it from you. You’re still a Sayyadina, and today of all days, you bring especially good luck to them.

Paul Atreides walks forward after Nezua dips– she’s kissed you on your cheek and solemnly stated she’ll miss you at the temple bedrooms– and you’re intrigued, as you’ve never spoken to him before.

“Muad’dib!” Stilgar is next to you, and he shakes his hands, clapping his shoulder, and Paul hugs him.

“Stilgar, Biet–” Paul’s eyes cross towards you, and you don’t sense the same plotting look his mother has. “Congratulations. It’s so interesting to witness a Fremen marriage. I feel like I’ve learned so much just watching. I did not know Sayyadina could use the Voice, as well. Impressive.”

You think he’s rather compassionate, but there’s no telling if it’s an act. You ignore that– you’re meant to be happy now.

“Thank you.” You gently squeeze his hand. “I don’t use it often– I believe it should necessitate a purpose.”

“As do I.” Paul agrees, and you are blown away by how casually he reveals that he can use it. Another sign, perhaps, that he is who you and Stilgar think he is.

“In coming times, maybe you too will marry in our way.” You make as an offhand comment, so not to overtly reveal your surprise.

Paul is mildly surprised by this, but he doesn’t look displeased with that. “Maybe. I think many women here are quite beautiful, they could probably pick a noble Feydakin than someone like me.”

“In time, Muad’dib, you may be a Feydakin too. You have the strength to be one.” Stilgar corrects him, and you like that your husband is so forthcoming, a true mentor that supports everyone.

“Besides, you’ll need to be one if you want to impress Chani.” You input, and Stilgar looks a little taken aback by this development, while Paul looks more interested.

“Really? You think Chani and I…” Paul swallows down whatever he’s going to say, looking suddenly a bit darker and worried. “I would be lucky if she considered me.”

Paul bids you two goodbye, while Stilgar laughs. “A humble one, isn’t he?”

“Better that than overly boastful.” You hum. “Either way, I hope he is not perpetuating a false image.”

Stilgar agrees.

As the party dies down, he takes your hand, and together, you walk back to Stilgar’s quarters.

He’s rather quiet as he sits on his bedding, cracking his knuckles.

Stilgar is not afraid of you, exactly– he’s afraid of what your relationship should or should not be. He does not know the boundaries in which you two operate, and he’s afraid once he opens that conversation up, of your potential rejection.

Other men would tell him that as your wife, there should be no confusion– that he should be able to bridge the gap, and you would accept it, no questions asked.

But Stilgar had not come this far by simply guessing at things. He knows as Naib, the general context you two have– and he needs to know if you feel the same way, if you don’t just want this marriage to be symbolic in nature.

“Sayyadina,” He calls you, and you sit next to him on his bedding, staying a short distance away, just for respect.

You laugh at that internally. You’re his wife, and you still call on some level of respect. Maybe because you’re afraid of acting on these feelings you have– a hunger for closeness– and you would rather use the excuse of respect instead of pushing him towards you.

Stilgar says Sayyadina with fondness in his tone, though. A formal, spiritual term has never sounded more husky, more inappropriately close than ever– you let yourself hope.

“I’ll ask you this once, and make your answer clear, so I do not bother you otherwise.” Stilgar pauses, wanting to be sensitive about this subject. He doesn’t know exactly what you’re comfortable with. “I want to know if you want to be more than wife in name, or if your heart is drawn to being within your faith.”

“Who says I can’t be both, Stilgar?” You bite your lip, and Stilgar’s face stiffens. “There’s nothing in our faith that says a priestess can’t have both.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He pauses, grappling with what to say.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you.” He says, and you laugh, for real this time, a louder laugh than he’s heard before, and he grins, liking the twinkling sound of it, but then frowns. “I’m being serious. You should not have to lie with me just for everyone else’s benefit. The marriage has brought people to greater spirits, already.”

“What if it’s for my benefit?” You speak in a hushed tone, but Stilgar listens to every word, inching closer to you. “What if I feel more spiritual when I’m next to you? I feel the Maker’s way flow through me whenever we speak, I feel like I can understand and interpret so much more because I know we are supposed to be with each other, not just metaphorically, but in all ways.”

Stilgar is taken aback by your boldness, and so are you to some degree, but you continue. “I’ve been ignoring this the last few weeks, but I think that’s what love is. What is faith without love? I think I love you, because you make me understand what I’ve been missing…” You smile up at him. “You’re my greater context, Stilgar.”

Ah, He thinks. This woman is too sweet to me. She understands.

“Sayyadina…” He sighs, a deep shuddering sigh revealing so much emotion; relief, really. You’ve never seen Stilgar like this, but it gives you a sense of how much he represses. “You feel like the missing piece I’ve been waiting for. You… you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for a woman that understands me.”

“I never thought I could have the chance to love anyone,” He admits with some reservation. “My appearance tends to ward women away.”

“But you’re beautiful.” You whisper, smiling up at him, and Stilgar feels your hands trace around his face, and he closes his eyes, listening to the sweetness of your voice. “You’re only intimidating because of who you are, Stilgar, but I promise, you’re beautiful. I’m not the only woman who thinks that.”

Before he can respond in turn, that you’re more beautiful than him, the stubbornness that you two share– you let that unspoken urge inside you, the one you’ve never acted on before, overtake you. And you pull his face downwards in a searing kiss, one where he can still taste the spice on your lips after what you ingested at your wedding dinner.

He honestly has not touched a woman in years– not out of some purposeful celibacy, but more because he has been so focused on maintaining Sietch Tabr. And whatever memories he has of that time, right now is easily trumping them.

You part your lips as Stilgar does, kissing him with abandon, again and again as your lips move with his, and he squeezes your waist before pulling you onto his lap.

He groans. There’s a hard bulge in his pants that you’re sitting squarely upon, you know what that is– you’re not entirely uncultured about this.

You experimentally roll your hips over his crotch, finding a sudden pleasure in your lower half as you do so, and he stutters, suddenly, pulling your face away from his, breaking the kiss.

“Sayyadina– wait, slow down.” He holds your wrists in his hands firmly, the heat of the moment causing both of you to sweat. The night air seeps through Stilgar’s window– hot and humid.

You’ve never wanted to be closer to him.

“I’m a little inexperienced. I don’t want to hurt you.” He explains, and you scoff.

“So am I.” You tell him. “Actually, I’ve never…”

“Oh.” Stilgar takes on a very judicial look, one that you’re determined to stop before he rejects you for the “greater good” or something like that. “I would’ve never guessed that. You gave me the impression of expertise.”

“Then let me gain it.” You proclaim, and you cut him off before he says what you know he will. “You’re not forcing me into anything. I want to do this, just like I wanted to marry you.”

He scoffs, now, but Stilgar likes the sound of that and he kisses you again, pulling your shawl off, feeling you wrap around his torso with your legs– he feels you moan and shudder when he squeezes your thighs. He loves this, and when he starts removing your dress– you don’t stop him.

He pulls it down and under you, and you’re bare underneath. Stilgar examines your breasts with admiration– they’re the perfect size, they fit you well– and he immediately takes to one of your nipples with his teeth, causing you to cry out.

As he continues these bites over your chest, squeezing your breasts and your behind, suckling on your neck, feeding off of your sweat, you feel yourself slicken, wetness catching on Stilgar’s pants– so much quicker than you’re used to, when you used to touch yourself in your room at the temple. A waste of water, maybe, but it was worth the relief occasionally.

Stilgar notices, and he wordlessly lays you across his bed, spreading your legs open, looking down at your pussy.

You’re not completely sure what he’s doing, and you feel slightly vulnerable like this– entirely on display for him.

“Let me drink from you, Sayyadina. I would be honoured by this blessing– I thirst, and it would not be a waste.” He says in hushed tones, as he kneels in front of you, and you feel yourself slicken more if that’s possible. The sacred overtones of worship are not lost on you, practically becoming a kink for you as he speaks.

You nod, and he grasps your thighs tightly, practically pushing down on them so you’ll stay with open legs for him– he strokes them a few times, and then dives in with his tongue, lapping and licking slowly upwards to your clitoris, then quickly a few times to taste you faster, which causes you to seize as feelings of warmth and white-hot sensitivity overtake you, and with your fluids, and his saliva, you’re quickly reaching the point of finishing. His beard tickles, and you squirm a little, and start writhing and sweating, moans ebbing out of your throat, but that only makes Stilgar pull you in closer, tighter, pushing his tongue closer, almost inside, refusing your escape.

You don’t want that, anyways. And you finish in his mouth with a flourish as Stilgar laps up what you’ve given him– a drink from a Sayyadina.

You think he’s done, but you lean back with another sigh– a near scream, really– as Stilgar begins to lick at your clitoris, suckling on it, until you’re wet and aching again– and then he uses his fingers to spread your pussy open, and begins to fuck you with his tongue. It’s amazing, wet and writhing and and filthy– it feels nothing like your own fingers and entirely more adept at getting you to another orgasm. The speed at which his tongue languishes inside you should be considered unholy, all things considered– but you feel high, you feel like you’re closer to the Maker than ever– and he suckles at you, his lips closing around your entrance as you moan again and orgasm directly into his mouth.

Stilgar groans. He’s in love with your taste– he thinks he might wake you up every morning like this, if you’ll let him. He’s also painfully hard now– his cock strains against his pants, and he quickly starts undressing.

“Sorry. I needed a second taste.” Stilgar apologizes, standing up, but he’s not sheepish about anything as he continues to rub you, to stroke your pussy to keep you wet. Up, down, up, down, Stilgar could get addicted to this sensation around his fingers– you’re so warm, soft, wet– he needs to be in you.

You’re beginning to feel overstimulated– you’re covered in sweat, and in between your thighs you’re soaked, practically dripping all over Stilgar’s hand as he continues to work you– and you twitch as you sit up, Stilgar’s fingers prodding inside you.

His cock bobs upwards, shiny with pre-cum, and the tip, hard and redder, while the rest is a flattering tan brown. Although this is your first time viewing the male genitalia, you’re drawn to it. You like how he looks partially naked– vulnerable like you, but warmer, soft and hard in different places– and you reach to take his shirt off, letting his full self be unsheathed.

And you like this– you feel an animalistic draw to his body, his chest hair, the broad muscles under them, and he moans loudly when your finger prods at the tip of his cock. Stilgar lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and spreads your ass, his cock nudging inside your pussy slowly, groaning as it does, gritting his teeth as every centimetre feels like another added pleasure of wetness, the bounds of which he does not know, but he is excited to be familiar with and do this again and again.

You sink around him easily– you moan against his neck as you do– and Stilgar bottoms out, feeling you grip and tighten around him.

After what feels like an eternity– both of you drunk on just being intertwined in such a way– he lifts you up again, thrusting outwards, and then back in, pushing you down on his cock, slamming into you. Stilgar’s warrior strength comes into play here– he fucks you relentlessly, and grips you so tightly you think you might be melting onto him. He begins to pound into you, your ass and thighs jiggling with the force of it all, and a severely perverted squelching and slapping sound builds up over time, over and over, his thighs and balls slapping against your thighs and ass, the sound of which you are sure is extremely loud.

You don’t care. You moan loudly, almost yelling as Stilgar’s cock twitches and catches inside you in a place so deep, you’ve never touched it yourself.

You shake and twitch, barely holding onto him as you do, feeling an immense pressure build inside you, almost painfully, but with pleasure. Stilgar claims your mouth as he thrusts, kissing you, slipping his tongue inside as he drinks from you there– and he loves feeling you moan against his mouth as he does so.

He presses you against him tightly, rutting upwards, and then together he tips the both of you onto his bed again, him on top of you, this time using his fingers to play with your clitoris as you clench around his thrusting. You cum again, this time your fluids adding to Stilgar’s pleasure, and you moan as Stilgar’s hands tighten around your waist. The slap of his skin against yours is laden with sweat and your cum, but Stilgar is insatiable, and he thrusts harder.

You feel him inhale, moan, bite at your neck, and you feel his cock twitch again as he cums inside you, pulling out in a hazy stream, and you writhe against him, feeling the heat of the moment conjoining with the cooler air of the night.

He sighs, satisfied with what has happened, lying down next to you. “May Shai-Hulud allow us to do this again.”

Stilgar has to leave again, the next morning, as more Fremen are involved in fighting Harkonnen harvesters, and he wants to oversee this.

“I’m sorry, Sayyadina…” He swallows. He doesn’t want to leave you behind– if he could take you along on his back, he would.

“Sahar.” You tell him.

“What was that?” He asks, and you wrap your arms around him and his stillsuit, dressed in your traditional Sayyadina dressings again.

“Sahar is my Sietch name. My sacred name, only for my sisters to know.” You explain, although you’re sure Stilgar knows this. He only knows your Fremen name, after all. “Since we’re married– I thought you should know my true name.”

“Sahar is a wonderful name… meaning morning.” Stilgar looks out the window with a slight smile. “But you outdo any of Arrakis’ sunrises, my dear.”

You laugh at that, as Stilgar knew you would.

“You will still be Sayyadina to me, no matter what name you have.” He says, and there’s a warm feeling in your heart when you hear this, that he has a special name for you. You take his hands, and press your palm to his forehead.

“Oh Shai-Hulud… keep Stilgar safe from unwarranted danger today.” You whisper in Chakobsa, closing your eyes, and Stilgar closes his eyes too. “Do not risk his life.”

Your harsh, suddenly grating tone from using the Voice has Stilgar opening his eyes again. He has never heard you use it before.

“Thank you.” He pulls you up for a soft, parting kiss– and then after memories of last night echo inside his mind– he gives you a firmer, lingering kiss, laden with love for you.

Stilgar finds that despite his obvious devotion in his commitment to you– the women are more interested in him than ever.

And if he was a lesser man, perhaps he would act on this. But Stilgar has not forgotten the plan, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten you, not so soon. He knows you two are two sides of the same coin– meant to be.

This was not meant to be an outcome. He sees Feydakin women smiling at him, maybe a little too much– or maybe he has not noticed until now.

You said he was beautiful, and he had thought maybe that was just according to you. But seeing how Lady Jessica greets him, not impolitely but just with more… vulnerability, especially after her duke was killed, he thinks maybe you’re right. Maybe he has something.

Jessica stares at the deathstill, trembling over what Stilgar has told her. She must drink the Water of Life, she must take the place of a Reverend Mother– and she does not want this. She wants nothing more than to be comforted at this moment, because of what a tribulation this new order shall be on her.

Or at least, that’s the image she’s conveying, she hopes, and she believes she has Stilgar wrapped around her finger, her coying, Bene Gesserit way meant to coax people closer to her, and by extension, her wishes.

And Jessica can tell she’s done it right when Stilgar leans over, wipes away her tear, and licks it. Perhaps she can secure more support through playing the part of a sad widow.

It’s Nezua who saw what happened.

She interrupts your prayer, your first prayer after returning to the temple, sanctimonious as it is.

“Sahar, please don’t be upset. Just hear me out.” She pulls you into the main hall, where your sisters and Ramallo are reading ancient texts.

“What is it? What’s happened?” You look around wildly.

Nezua’s deep blue eyes blink, as she wonders what to tell you, how to say it gracefully.

“I saw him. Naib. Standing close to that woman, to Lady Jessica– she cried about becoming a Reverend Mother– he stroked her face, licking a tear away.” Nezua admits, and you instantly blink back sudden tears.

“But he–”

“Men can be rascals, Sahar.” Nezua reprimands you, and you swallow, knowing you don’t know as much as her.

You do know about Jessica, though.

“She has been eyeing him for a while… I’ve watched it happen. She’s got her Bene Gesserit tactics, we know that. She wants to be a Mother, no matter what farce she applies in this moment to gain approval.” You shake your head. “He wouldn’t do that for no reason– she’s very convincing. And Stilgar supports everyone, why would he doubt her?”

Nezua calms down a bit.

“But if he wanted to marry her?” Ramallo suddenly chimes in, and you and your sisters watch as she speaks, suddenly convinced of something. “Would it not be the ultimate culmination of what we seek? The mother of the Lisan Al Gaib, integrated into our society… nothing could compare to how many Fremen this would convert. How many people would choose our way.”

“Great Mother, you picked me for that purpose.” You speak up, almost immediately, without fear. You don’t care if you’re speaking out of turn– you do not want to share Stilgar, lose him to some other woman– and here it seems everyone else is okay with it.

“Yes, and you’ve done well, but you of all people should want us to do better.” She remarks, not without a bit of bite in her tone. You hate that it has to be this way, that you stand in the way of something you used to wholeheartedly believe.

Just this once, you want to be selfish. You have faith that Paul will be Lisan Al Gaib, anyways, so why can’t it just be you and Stilgar?

“Once Jessica drinks the Water of Life, she will be a powerful Reverend Mother– all of Arrakis may be swayed by her.” Ramallo peers at your expression. “Don’t tell me you feel something as foolish as love, Sahar.”

“And if I do?” You state, blatantly.

“Then you must be loving enough to see that this would improve Stilgar’s life by far. Men may take multiple wives, you know that.” Ramallo tuts. “Perhaps you’re not as clever as I once thought.”

“He won’t do it. He knows that his love helps me, and as long as that’s in his priorities…” Your voice dies down, feeling like everything is falling apart as you speak.

“Yes, and how long will he care for a lower priestess when he can have a Reverend Mother? Especially one as faithful as him.” Ramallo shakes her head at your ignorance.

“Shut up! You’ve never felt love, you unspeakable witch–” You scream in Chakobsa, using the Voice, the full power of which seems to shake the temple.

Ramallo slaps you, hard enough that you fall back against the floor. Your skin hums with the stinging feel of a new bruise, sure to make it’s mark on your cheek– and she hisses at you.

“Insolent child. It was I that brought you here. It was I that even gave you the chance to be with Naib Stilgar. He would have never looked at you otherwise.” She mutters, and you feel your eyes glisten with tears.

She and your sisters leave, and you hold your breath, trying not to cry. Nezua strokes your arm.

“Perhaps, if he marries Jessica, it will only be a marriage in name.” She tries, but you shake your head. “You would be the one he really loves, Sahar.”

“Or I would be like a concubine– there to produce children, nothing more.” You think of how quickly you leapt into Stilgar’s waiting arms yesterday, and wonder if you were wrong. If his only intent was to have someone he could fuck on a ready basis.

You shake your head. “I need to speak to him.”

You sit on the ground of his quarters, stating a small prayer to stay calm, and when Stilgar walks in, he sounds pleased to see you.

“Sayyadina, I did not expect you back so soon.” He touches your hand, but based on how you draw yourself back, he knows something is wrong. “What is it?”

“You want Jessica. Right? To be your wife?” You say, and he shakes his head.

“We discussed it once–” and your stomach drops at that. “But it would have only been a marriage of convenience to protect her, long ago. Nothing more.”

“Then what happened today, in the deathstill?” You ask, and Stilgar furrows his brows.

“I only relayed Ramallo’s message to her. And she was a bit sad, so I comforted her, that’s all. She almost wasted some water by crying, so I drank it.” Stilgar sits down on the ground next to you. “I promise you, I do not want her.”

“Even if she’s a reverend mother? Closer to your faith? Easier to perpetuate our–” Here you stutter. “The mission?”

“Whoa, whoa.” He softens visibly. “Sayyadina, if you cannot see now that I love you, tell me how to right that wrong.”

“Tell me why you believe you’ll stick with me–” You tear up again and wipe it away. “Tell me you won’t leave me.”

“I have no interest in Jessica– she is a conniving one, but whatever she thinks may happen, it will not.” He shrugs. “I don’t believe she loves me or wants me in that way, either– she still mourns her duke.”

Of course, you think. She might have only been staring at me that one time because she remembered when she used to be in love. Maybe she was even jealous… Jessica was a concubine.

You suddenly feel much more at peace. You don’t think you would’ve ever left Stilgar even if he had married Jessica– but you’re suddenly more understanding of her pain, to be the one not known in any collected record despite being loved.

“I only did anything I could to make her feel more comfortable with her new role.” Stilgar grins. “And if she succeeds– the faith will have more people interested in it, and there will be less pressure on us.”

“That’s true.” You finally tear your gaze from the floor to look at him, and he smiles at you before frowning at the bruise on your cheek.

“What’s this?” Stilgar gently touches you, and he gets angry hearing you hiss.

“Nothing, just a silly altercation.” You explain, but he’s not satisfied with that.

“With who?”

“Ah… Ramallo slapped me after I said she would never understand love.” Suddenly you’re ashamed, and you feel as if Stilgar would be disappointed in you. “She said the best thing would be if you married Jessica– and I guess I… I didn’t want to lose you, so I used the Voice on her.” “You did?” Stilgar raises his eyebrows, in surprise that you’d do such a thing, make a rash judgement like that against your elder. “I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

You lean into his touch, feeling better that he’s not angry at you.

“But I am sorry I wasn’t there to see you take ownership of me.” He laughs quietly. “You really love me that much? Then I’m only yours.”

You smile so hard at that– massive relief flowing through your nerves– and Stilgar kisses your bruise, before kissing your lips and making you feel whole again.

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joelswritingmistress · 1 month

Text

Neighbors with Benefits: Part 6 (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Part of the #hotdilfsummerchallenge @hellishjoel

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: about 4500

Warning: Mild smut, mild angst

Joel opened his eyes, a damp sweat glistened his body and he had to consciously think about where he was for a moment. He swallowed hard, feeling the parched nature of his throat and then glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

It was just a few minutes past three o'clock in the morning and the only relief from the heat came from the open window that he had climbed through. Next to where he laid you slept on your side with your back to him breathing evenly.

For a moment Joel just stared at you and a part of his mind began to wander to places he actively tried not to. If nothing else he was a realist, and Joel clearly knew all of the heightened emotions were a result of being in the early throes of infatuation - or so that’s what he told himself. Still he couldn’t deny that you made him feel alive for the first time in what felt like forever. He felt youthful and full of life whenever he thought of the two of you, and that feeling made his stomach twist into knots.

Joel sighed and ran his hands over his face and then glanced at the clock again. He knew it would be smart for him to go, given that your parents would be waking up for work within a few hours. He, too, had to be at work in the morning and sneaking out once the sun rose would make the task all the more difficult. It had been risky enough sneaking over there, and one wrong move could have cost him the trust of his neighbors, to say the very least. There was a small part of Joel, somewhere in his subconscious, that almost wanted to get caught so they could just come clean, and let the chips fall where they may.

He took a deep breath. From the position where he laid he could see the very top of his roof through the window. The truth was he didn't want to go back home; but he knew he had to.

"(Y/N) ." Joel whispered your name at first and then he called your name a little louder, "(Y/N) ." He gently placed a hand on your shoulder, prompting your eyes to flicker open. You turned to him with a smile and placed a hand over his, anticipating an intimate encounter given the late hour that he was waking her.

"Hey." Your eyes began to adjust and you pulled him down into a kiss.

Joel reciprocated, making the task of leaving all the more difficult. Intimacy was something that had been missing in his marriage for so long, and since it fizzled out it was nonexistent. You were the first woman he truly felt a connection with in a long time. Joel tried to ignore his growing feelings, but the logical thoughts grew foggy as you kissed him in the dark.

"I have to go," Joel whispered, not wanting to part from you.

"No, you don't," You whispered back, pulling him back to you.

He kissed you again for a moment before pulling away. "I have to. Your parents will be up soon."

"What time is it?" you arched your neck toward the side of the bed where he slept and smirked, "It's only three-thirteen."

"I have to get home before the sun comes up, honey." Joel smirked and kissed you again.

"Are you a vampire or something?"

He chuckled and touched your face before reluctantly sliding out of the bed.

"You're really going?" You asked him, perching yourself up on your forearms as you sat up in bed.

Joel reached for his pants and slid them on over his boxer-briefs.

"Who's going to take care of that for you?" you went on, motioning to his erection beneath the fabric of his pants.

He snickered, "I'll have to fuckin' take care of it myself."

You scrunched your nose. "That's no fun."

"Mmm..." Joel placed his hands on the edge of your bed and touched his lips to hers. "I don't want to go."

"I don't want you to go either." You kissed him a little harder and Joel, like the morning before, had to consciously force himself to part from you. When he reached down onto the floor for his shirt you sat up completely and stared at him with disappointed eyes.

"I'd be getting up in a few hours anyway." Joel slipped on his shoes next and then reached into the nightstand for his keys and cell phone. For the several seconds to follow he just stood there contemplating taking everything off and climbing back into bed. A part of him wished he hadn't woken up in the first place. Had the night just been a little bit cooler he would still be sleeping beside you.

"I know." You looked down and managed a smile. "It's not like I should expect anything from this."

Joel's eyebrows pressed together and he looked down toward the floor. "I'm, uh... I'm not just bailing on you here."

"Yeah, I know." You knew he was being truthful; though you also knew he did have to go. If someone caught him in the confines of your bedroom there would be hell to pay from all angles.

Joel stared down at you for a moment and then let his eyes shift to the clock again. He cleared his throat and then recaptured your gaze. "Send me a text tomorrow."

You nodded. "Okay."

"Before eleven." He tipped his mouth up in a smirk. "I don't think I can wait that long again."

Joel's words made your whole body tingle. You smiled wider and agreed to his requests with another, "Okay."

"Okay." Joel nodded and swallowed hard before carefully sliding up the screen on the window that separated them from the world outside.

You got out of bed and hurried over beside where he shifted himself out. "Be careful," you said in a voice a little too loud.

When Joel leapt down onto a low-hanging roof he braced himself before glancing back up at her. "Put some clothes on," he said quietly with a smirk, staring up at your bare body as you hung halfway out the window. "You'll excite the neighbors."

"I already did." You giggled as you stared down at him, watching as he easily stuck the landing of the next jump to the lawn before turning back to face you. This time he didn't say anything. He just gave a simple wave and hurried in a stealthy fashion through the darkness toward his house next door.

You sighed, able to take in his figure all the way until he disappeared through the back door of his home. The exciting parts were equally as toll-taking as the disappointing parts of the secret romance. For every high there was an equal low, and knowing that Joel had to go back to his own house because he lived a life completely separate from you was a depressing blow to your emotional state.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be separate, you thought, in time.

You ducked back into your room and closed the screen before plopping back down in your bed by yourself. Rather than lay in the middle as you typically would, you laid on the side you had been on when Joel was next to you, letting your arm drape across his side of the bed.

This part sucks, you thought. For the first time you thought you might have it in you to cry, but you willed your mind to be strong. From the beginning of it all you knew there was no easy way out. Still, it didn't make the feelings any easier to deal with.

You tried to get comfortable there without him that night. You tried to tell yourself that you were tired, or needed sleep, and even that it was crazy to think that you might be falling for your older neighbor, particularly so soon. None of it worked. You couldn't convince yourself of any of it. You knew there was only one remedy to the ill-feelings you were experiencing and that was seeing him; being with him - getting your fix.

"Fuck it." You whispered the phrase to yourself and climbed out of bed, throwing on a pair of shorts and a tank top before flinging the window open again. You glanced down at the roof below, which you acknowledged was an easy drop. As a teenager you and your friends had snuck out to sit on the roof, and so it wasn't something you hadn't done before. Still, it had been long enough where your stomach was in knots before you finally got the guts to leave the window ledge.

Your bare feet hit the roof shingles with a quiet thud, though you managed to hold your balance and brace yourself before eagerly making your way to the second part of the little mission you created for yourself. The jump down to the yard was higher than you thought, though it, too, was a doable leap. Without thinking, You crept to the side, took a breath and leapt from the low roof down to the grass.

A small surge of pain crept into the bottoms of your feet, trickling up your right ankle, though the pain wasn't debilitating. You took a second to shake it off, rubbing the area on your ankle before hurrying across the lawn into Joel's backyard and up to the back door.

You let out a sigh before reaching for the handle, only to be disappointed when it didn't fling open from your force.

Damn it... You swallowed hard, noting in your mind that you had, for some ridiculous reason, suspected the door would just be left open as if Joel would have known you would be coming to him. Again, without thinking or caring, your fist knocked at the screen door that sat as the initial barrier to Joel's home.

You felt the sweat in your palms as you waited with closed fists and a heavy heart. The pain in your ankle thudded with each beat of your heart, though you barely felt it when the adrenaline kicked up a notch. Before you could knock again you heard movement from inside and then the locks on the big, wooden door twitched before it was flung open and you were face to face with Joel again through the screen of the storm door.

He stared back at you, looking even better than he had a few minutes before and clad in nothing but his underwear again.

You didn't have it in you to wait. You reached for the handle of the storm door, tugging at it, though it felt silly when you recognized it was the door that had been locked from the get-go.

Joel didn't hesitate. He popped open the lock and pressed the handle, allowing you to burst through the door. Immediately, your lips connected with his and Joel reciprocated, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed you with a hard, needy passion as if you hadn't seen each other in months.

Both of you gasped out a breath when the make-out session was prolonged with such an intensity that left each of you breathless.He used his foot to kick the back door shut, before releasing you briefly to re-lock it and then pulled your back to him with force.

"Couldn't fucking wait until tomorrow?" he barely got the words out and exhaled into your mouth before kissing you several times in a row again.

"No," You admitted.

"How the fuck did you get out?" Joel grinned in darkness without letting up his pursuit of your body.

"Window." You laughed into his kiss, making him laugh back. You moaned as his hard-on dug into your pelvis and it made you need him more by the second. "God... I want you."

Joel held your tighter and with a smacking sound, his lips parted from yours. "You fuckin' got me.” His breath hitched in his throat as he towed you down the hall.

Once in the bedroom you pawed at his body like a needy kitten, mewling his name as Joel pulled your pants off, bringing your underwear down with it as he dropped his own to his ankles. A second later he stepped out of them and climbed on top of you on the bed.

Your mind was clouded with passion as you kissed in a sloppy, needy fashion. You felt him enter you without even trying - like your bodies were meant for one another. It was a hasty, breathless motion that left him thrusting into you a second later with an arm hooked beneath the bend of your left leg.

“Joel,” you mewled his name and let your head fall back into the pillow, exposing your neck for him to devour.

“You are so fucking perfect,” he whispered, clutching your earlobe with his teeth as his hips still thrusted a steady rhythm.

You hugged your arms tighter around him, holding him as close to you as possible. It was right then that you realized you were falling in love. It didn’t matter that you had only known Joel for a short time. Nothing in your life had compared to this, nevermind prepared you for it. The logical part of your brain felt it was too soon, but your body, heart and soul all teamed up against it and easily won the fight.

After coaxing another orgasm from one another, you began to wonder if you'd ever be fully satisfied - if you would ever think, ‘okay, I've had enough’. Because even after you laid still in the darkness, you knew you could have had him again.

“Stay,” Joel whispered into the center of your ear. The line word sent tingles down your body.

“Okay,” you whispered back, placing your hand over his across your stomach. You laid on your back facing the ceiling and continued to hold Joel close as his body cuddled around yours.

Who cares if my parents find out. It was the first time you'd had that thought.

The relationship was passionate and impulsive but it wasn't wrong. Even if they didn't approve at first, you knew in time they would understand. They always did.

Right?

You weren't going to worry about it right then in the early morning hours. You had got what you wanted - and that was falling asleep in Joel Miller’s arms.

There was a beeping sound in the distance that grew louder and louder as you shifted from dreaming to awake. When your mind caught up you knew it was Joel's alarm. Your eyes snapped open and you glanced over to his side of the bed.

Joel's snoring almost overtook the sound of the alarm, and you finally reached across him to turn it off.

"Oh shit." You glanced at the time, noting it was a half hour later than the time he'd set the night before. You suspected that Joel had hit the snooze button in his sleepy, half-conscious state.

"Joel." You hovered over him, shaking him until he groaned and opened his eyes. "The alarm has been going off."

Joel stretched, appearing as if he could still sleep for days. His eyes were heavy and hair in a pillow-tossed mess as he reached over to check the time with little interest.

"Fuck." He grumbled the word and ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

"Late?" You asked him, giving a big yawn as you did.

"Yeah." Joel cleared his throat. "I have to fuckin'..." He slowly sat up and ran his hands through his hair again.

"What can I help you with?" You asked him, "Coffee?"

Joel nodded. "If you don't mind. I have to shower. You mind grabbing me some clothes out of the closet? Jeans are on a hanger in there, might need to be ironed."

She nodded, happy to play house-wife even if just for a moment. "Where's the iron?"

"Hall closet." He shifted out of bed. "And any of the white tshirts you see would be fine.”

"Sure." You nodded again and stared up as he turned back to you.

"Thanks." Joel winked and headed out of the room into the hallway.

You glanced around the room, eying the floor for your scattered clothing and got out of bed to get dressed. You heard the shower go on, but felt that Joel was in no mood to be playful or he would have invited you in there with him. You decided to do as he asked and made your way to the closet.

When you peeled open the closet doors you saw a collection of polo shirts and button downs. On the very top we're folded tshirts of all colors and a few pairs of pants were draped, half folded, over hangers.

You reached for a pair of jeans and glanced over to the left as you removed them. In the back corner was a wedding dress, covered with clear plastic. Directly in front of it were two petite cocktail dresses and a pair of wedged heels that you guessed would be too small even for you.

Despite that being a part of Joel’s past, the proof that he had a wife was now staring you in the face. Not a friend, not a girlfriend, a wife - who he was still legally bound to.

They aren't together anymore, you reminded yourself, all the while noting it wasn't that long ago that they were. They shared the house, they shared the bed you had just slept in. They ate dinners together at the kitchen table. She probably ironed his clothes on the mornings where he was running late - the way you were about to.

Your eyes closed for a moment and you tried not to be negative. Joel had a past, the same way you did. Would he be jealous if he saw photos of you and the guy you had dated during your first two years of college? Probably not. A part of you knew it wasn't quite the same.

You took a deep breath and reopened your eyes. Without another look, you retrieved a white shirt from the top and pulled the jeans with you as you made your way to the hall closet to locate the iron. Before even attempting to search for it your eyes landed on a stack of old Christmas cards in a small basket on an eye-level shelf, the top one appearing to be one of those self made Walgreens cards Joel and his wife had sent out to friends and family the year before.

Is this supposed to be some sign that I shouldn't be doing this? you wondered upon suddenly being hit in the face with more proof that Joel's estranged wife was, indeed, a real person.

You reached for the card, holding the image of the two of them out in front of you. The woman beside him was sporting a wide smile, leaning an elbow on Joel's beefy shoulder, who smiled just a wide. She donned a traditional Christmas hat that made way to pin-straight dark hair and a set of beautiful big, brown eyes to match with a long, red sweater-dress. Joel looked as handsome as ever and wore a red and green plaid shirt over khakis. His arm was linked securely around her waist and at the bottom read, 'Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays From The Millers’ in a neat, swirly cursive.

She's gorgeous, you thought to yourself and then let your thoughts run deeper. The Millers. What happened between them to cause the divorce?

When the water went off, you almost jumped and replaced the card back on top of the stack before hurrying to locate the iron.

"Find it?" Joel asked, as if he could see you shuffling like a mad-woman through the wall.

You cleared your throat and managed to sound confident; normal. "Yeah."

"Just use the kitchen counter," he went on, "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind." You reached for the iron that had been perched on a higher shelf and then closed the door.

Joel exited the bathroom with a towel around his waist just as you closed the door. "Thanks honey." He slipped an arm around your midsection and planted a kiss on your lips.

You kissed him firmly back, enamored despite the gnawing feeling that now lingered in your stomach. The feel of his beard, his slicked hair, his nearly-naked form that had just the right amount of muscle tone and chest hair and his scent as he came out fresh from the shower - it was all too much. Even the tone of his voice had the ability to send chills down your back.

"You're welcome."

Joel kept you close, studying your expression and moment and then kissed you again. "Sorry I'm in such a rush."

You gave a half-smile. "Let me get to these while you dry off." You held up the pants and smiled another time before heading down the hallway. To your surprise, Joel followed and watched as you set everything up, standing with a hand against the refrigerator.

"I would love to, uh, let you just stay here," he confessed, "But..."

"But my parents and all that.. yeah I know.” You phrased it aloud, "I’m the neighbor’s daughter." You glanced down and ran your palm firmly on top of the left leg of the pair of jeans, feeling a sting in the way you had labeled yourself. The neighbor’s daughter.

Joel didn't say anything back initially. He did what he did best - he studied your body language, waiting to see if you would reveal something even louder than your words as you began to iron his pants.

"I hope..." Joel drew a hand across his beard, searching for the right words, "I mean… you're the first person I've been with outside of my wife in a very long time. I, uh… I'm just not used to this. I hope I'm not overwhelming you-”

"You're not," you assured him right away. You shook your head, "You're not... at all. I just... I get it. I know what this is Joel." Doubt continued to linger inside of you since discovering the wedding dress and the old Christmas card - as if they hadn't been there all along. A part you felt foolish for your sudden doubts, the other part of you felt like you had to guard your heart.

“Well, what do you think this is?” Joel asked, point blank. He stared directly at you now and you glanced up to meet his stare. Without much of a warning, tears threatened to stream down your face, though you continued to find the strength to keep them locked away without falling.

“I don't know,” you confessed. You knew what you wanted it to be, but you didn't know what it was.

Joel took a step in your direction and you almost stepped back to keep your emotions in check, but you didn't. He sensed something was suddenly off. “Did I do something?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“You don't look.. okay.”

You managed a deep breath through your nose. “I just… I don't mind this.” You motioned to the jeans you laid out to be ironed, “All of this. I enjoy it very much actually.”

Joel nodded, seeming to be a bit confused. “Okay. So, what's going on then?”

“I just don't know what you want. You're newly separated from your wife. I'm starting to…” You couldn't put your words together. It was too much to just spout out right there in the kitchen.

“I'm starting to, too.” Joel continued his stroll across the kitchen and pulled you into a hug. He kissed the top of your head and you finally felt a single tear sneak out. You held him firmly against you for a moment before you both pulled back and you dried your eyes.

“We should talk,” he said with a nod, looking you directly in the eye. “Let me take you to dinner. Tonight.”

Finally some relief. You felt part of the weight shift from your shoulders. “Okay.” You smiled at him and let out a little laugh, wiping away one more tear that made its way down your cheek.

“I'm sorry we did this backward,” Joel said. “I probably should have offered you dinner that night in the bar instead of pulling you into the women's bathroom.”

You laughed lightly. “No, that's a memory I prefer to keep.”

Joel smiled back and leaned down and touched his lips to yours. “You're not just the neighbor’s daughter.” He tipped your chin up to make sure he had your full attention.

“What am I then?”

Joel's eyes moved back and forth as they studied your expression. He then tipped up the corner of his mouth in a little smirk. “You're my girl.”

CLICK HERE FOR PART 7

@pedropascal111 @axshadows @mybritishstyle @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @goodvibesonly421 @cosmic006533-blog @ashleyfilm @maybetomorrowgirl

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zweiginator · 2 months

Note

Patrick taking readers virginity so of course she can’t wear her purity ring anymore so when they’re done she’s like “have it.” cause she can’t bear the fact she didn’t keep her promise to chastity, but Patrick treats ts like a fucking trophy. keeps it on his chain like a wedding band. people even recognizing the ring as YOUR ring and he’s like 😄😄😄😄 ya 😄😄😄😄

well yes.

being soooo dead set about saving yourself until marriage. your dad gave you that purity ring when you were 13 and you made a vow to your parents--and to yourself--that you would be a good girl. find a sweet boy with good intentions and wait for him to propose. wait for your coveted wedding night and consummate it the way god intended.

and you were doing so well--until college. nobody even interested you at first. you were wondering if something was wrong with you, if a flip was switched off.

but then you went to a party you shouldn't have gone to. you left your phone at your dorm because your parents still tracked your location and this way there would be nothing to explain.

the second you saw patrick shotgunning a beer you felt that fire in your stomach, in your core. and patrick made eye contact with you as he wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. your ring glimmered and he looked at it and then you and then it again.

and after three tequila shots you just weren't caring about god's intention or the pearly gates of heaven. you were thinking about thie boy's strong biceps and the patch of hair that led beneath his jeans--a place you surely weren't supposed to look.

after that, things were foggy and you both were stumbling out to the backyard.

"there's a shed." patrick pulled you into him and you followed.

it all happened so fast. tongues slashing at each other almost violently. clashing teeth and wandering hands. the forceful rip of a zipper and the clang of gardening tools as patrick lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

it hurt, to take him in. but patrick's moans in your ear softened the blow. he turned you on so fucking much you felt more drunk on him than the alcohol. his fingertips pressed deep into the fat of your thighs and your nails raked down his scalp. his pelvis nudged against your clit.

you moaned freely, but pulled him close when you felt his hips stuttering.

"i'm not on birth control." because you weren't supposed to do any of this. you didn't need to plan ahead for something that was never supposed to happen.

patrick pulled out and aimed on your stomach. he clung onto you even after the fact but you pulled his own move on him.

"i gotta go." you stumbled out of the shed and patrick followed close behind.

"let me walk you back." he yelled.

"no--" the guilt was setting in and you felt nauseous looking at the ring on your finger. what a fraud.

you ripped it off and threw it at him. he caught it.

he realizes what it is as he holds it in his palm.

and you see patrick around campus. you swear your ring is on a chain around his neck. you may have to ask for it back. you may have to pretend this never even happened. how will you explain why your finger is bare and why patrick zweig has a new charm around his neck?

#ask #challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut

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sproutingliliums · 2 months

Note

What are some Zutara fanfics you like?

thank you for asking anon! rubbing my hands together and laughing diabolically rn. most of these fics are completed, but i have a few incomplete or ongoing ones listed at the bottom.

The Color of the Stars by bluenebulae this is my zutara bible... i have read this 3 times, and i think it's still my favorite zutara fic. it diverges from canon during the day of black sun. katara and zuko are both captured and thrown into prison and after breaking out together, they become reluctant allies and travel the world in search of the gaang while also trying to warn the other nations about ozai's plans.

they call you refugee by akaiiko

an arranged marriage alternate universe where when zuko is banished, he leaves the fire nation with—actually, the summary does a pretty good job of explaining it: "Zuko goes into exile with a scar, a mission, and a wife." i think i cried the first time i read this.

refraction by caroes3725

this one's my post-war zutara bible. it is maybe the post-war swt ambassador/politician katara slow burn of all time. it is 200k+ words and it's all worth it, i promise! i prommy!!! read it now!!!! <- this along with The Color of the Stars are maybe my favorite zutara longfics. period.

Mending Wounds by FictionIsSocialInquiry

canon divergent fic where katara sees visions of zuko in the foggy swamp. except in these visions he is older, the fire lord, her husband, and he is gentle and loving, and katara feels sick to her stomach! one of my favs!!!!

lost and found by Smediterranea

hakoda discovers a young zuko, injured, and takes him in. beautiful alternate universe fic where zuko grows up in the southern water tribe with sokka and katara.

The Things We Hide by Lykegenia

katara is held in the fire nation as a political prisoner following the southern water tribe's defeat after an assault launched by fire lord ozai during sozin's comet. the swt, however, will not go down with a fight. love, love, love this one! it has painted lady katara, blue spirit zuko, a sweet romance, political intrigue, and betrayal!!! it's a fun time. also i love hama's inclusion in this :)

The Blackfish and the Dragon by ama

during the day of black sun, iroh takes matters into his own hands and becomes fire lord. shortly after, a marriage is arranged between zuko and katara in order to secure the peace. it's a beautiful arranged marriage au where everyone is so perfectly in character. i really think this fic is one of the best zutara fics out there with a natural and rewarding slow burn romance. and azula is there and she's perfect.

Smoke & Mirrors by sansonnets

blutara bible!!!!!!! that's all i got... blutara go CRAZYYY

so i can die where i met you by irridescence

canon compliant. zuko and katara, eighty years later. the fic is centered around major character death(s), so don't read if you can't handle it but i was sobbing like a fucking baby by the end of it. such a beautiful gorgeous fic that will haunt me forever.

if you don't mind incomplete or ongoing fics:

But Who's Counting? by halfhoursonearth

katara thinks zuko's going to need at least 100 healing sessions after the agni kai. lovely prose and characterization and it's so tender and sweet. just read it!!!

so let us melt, and make no noise by LittleLostStar

zuko is sent on a mission to bring back the heart of the last waterbender so he can restore his honor and return home. but when he nearly dies while in the south pole, a healer named katara saves him and nurses him back to health. (the author describes this as a kinda-sorta frozen AU, and i think it's a pretty good description haha). it's an incredible AU with so much mystery and intrigue and tension!

forgetting is a kind of mercy by nerdylizj

"Five years after Katara and Zuko go missing in Ba Sing Se, Kya and Lee are found living peacefully in the Earth Kingdom countryside." finally, i gotta plug liz's silly n goofy dai li brainwashing fic. it's so good. so painfully angsty. it's about the pain of remembering and about making hard choices and identity and parenthood!!!

#fic recs #zutara #ask #zutara fic rec

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ceasarslegion · 2 months

Note

OK...I'm asking....

Yay!

So this happened in what I consider the worst job I ever had. And that is saying something because I very much worked retail in a mall. I had just graduated uni, I couldn't afford toronto anymore, and I needed a full-time job to make ends meet now that the stability of university was gone. So I went to edmonton because I had one family member I could stay with until I got on my feet. And I was not in a position to turn away a job that paid.

So I took a door to door sales position. For telus. I can hear the canadians in the room wincing so to everyone else: telus is one of the three whole mega megacorporations that control the ENTIRE canadian telecommunications network. And all three of those companies are buddy buddy and have us all by the balls. That's why canadian phone plans are the most expensive in the world. Not in the developed world: in the WORLD.

The meth lab incident happened on my 3rd whole day on my own. I was in St. Albert, which is this suburb of edmonton that is like if a kale smoothie and that guy who won't shut up about bikhram yoga had a baby they abandoned in an HOA meeting. Which is what makes this that much more unhinged: it was in the most cookie cutter suburbia part of the EMR.

So I was doing my knocks in my blue Jay's hat and my telus branded polo shirt with my clipboard and I knock on my next door. I'm greeted by a middle aged woman who proceeds to dump on me that she's divorcing her husband of 30 years and moving to New Brunswick. I'm like okay cool I just wanna sell you cable packages, good luck with that?

I write that off and continue along the cul de sac until I knock on this other lady's door. And when I say talkative I mean a real chatty Kathy. She practically grabs me by the collar and plops me down on her deck chairs, shoves a coffee in my hand, and says "HEY TELUS GUY DID YOU KNOCK ON METH GUYS DOOR???" And points to the house of the lady who just told me she was getting a divorce

At this point I have forgotten about my commission. I have forgotten about my shitty supervisor and how every part of this job sucks and how I wanna go back to Toronto. I have thrown away my clipboard I have started sipping her coffee that could very well be spiked with something and I go "you have to tell me about the meth guy"

That house I knocked on? The weird oversharing lady who was getting a divorce? Her husband was running a meth lab out of the basement THEIR ENTIRE MARRIAGE and she ONLY FOUND OUT THEN?? He called it his man cave and said that she wasn't allowed in?? And then one day she went down out of curiosity and it was a METH LAB??? All the bonuses he said he got at work were meth money.

I'm still enamored by how this happened. Did it not smell? Like for those who don't know edmonton there is a HUGE meth problem here. Like across the political aisle we all agree that something has to happen about all the meth, the details get foggy and that's where people argue, but needless to say I have smelled and been offered meth before just by virtue of living downtown. That shit REEKS. Like you know meth smell because it somehow smells like the word "meth." You will know what you are smelling even when you've never smelled it before. And it lingers. It hangs. It gets into walls. I know when I've taken a train car before because the smell of that guy who hotboxed it with meth smoke last week will still kinda be there. There's no way that house didn't smell like ass down to the foundation.

And the "you arent allowed in my man cave" excuse... im enamored by both the sexism towards his OWN WIFE and the way she just... went along with it for 30 years? Never set foot down there? The sexism and the just believing it?

I kept trying to steer the conversation back to the meth lab and this lady I was on the porch of kept actively trying to buy internet deals from me. Like she was the only person I ever pitched who was TRYING to get my bundles. I ended up just handing her my list of products and told her to check off what she wanted and was like "more meth lab?" And she went right to "yknow i think if I was your age I would've been a boy now. We didn't really have those terms when I was a kid" I DID NOT BRING THAT UP MA'AM I DONT HAVE TIME FOR YOUR GENDER CRISIS TELL ME MORE ABOUT THE METH LAB

That job was so shit that that was the only one I ever quit with no back up plan and did not regret for a second. I then went to the mall and handed out CVs and got my retail job by the end of the week from doing that.

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Text

all i need is you

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: following the morning after matt's run in with elektra, you have a lot of decisions to make about your future together.

warnings: swearing, angst, explicit sexual content (minors pls dni), mentions of pregnancy

word count: 8.2k

a/n: y'all have been requesting a sequel to please don't be mad for almost 6 months now, & I apologize it's coming so late. there were a lot of things y'all wanted to see happen in the sequel, & I took all of that feedback to heart & incorporated as much as I could in a way that made sense to me. i've been working on this for months, & it was really important to me to create something you guys would really love & be happy with. thank you to everyone that even wanted a sequel, & for being so patient. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part one]

It was almost crazy to think that just over a year ago, you thought your relationship with Matt Murdock was over for good.

When you had awoken that following morning by his side, head clear of the rage and lust induced haze you had been captured in, all that was lingering was a heart heavy with hurt and stinging with betrayal. You had silently collected all of your belongings, pressed one last kiss to Matt’s lips, and granted his peaceful sleeping form one final glance before leaving your spare key on his entry table and disappearing into the twilight.

All of his words still echoed in the back of your mind, but so did his actions. The promise of marriage was eclipsed by the cherry lip stain on his collar. The prospect of a family was diluted by the scent of an expensive perfume that didn’t belong to you. The vow of faith and love was broken by yet another lie.

You loved Matt, more than you had ever loved anyone, and more than you ever thought you could love another person. You knew deep down that he was a good man. You tried to believe that he would never intentionally hurt you. But it had gotten to the point where you couldn’t ignore the ache he left in your chest.

You needed time to try to forgive him. You weren’t even sure if you could forgive him at all. The cut he’d made ran deep, and you couldn’t decide if it was because he’d made it with her blade, or if it was simply his own that had been slicing away at the same spot over and over and over. Regardless, you needed time. Time away from him; to heal, to think, to decide.

But Matt Murdock had never been a man of patience.

For two endless weeks your phone constantly lit up with his name, filling up with messages containing apologies and desperate pleas. You started arriving early to work and left later than usual to throw him off your schedule. You had the receptionist bypass all his calls and made security aware that he was not welcome in your office. You ignored all the usual spots that he knew you frequented, and especially the ones you went to together. For the first time in over a year, you locked all your windows to ensure he couldn’t slip through in the middle of the night. You blasted music through your headphones so you didn’t have to hear the pain in his voice as he called out your name, fist banging away at your front door so hard you were certain he was going to actually break it down.

It was torture. Even though he had been the one to wrong you, a piece of you felt guilty. You could hear the terror and remorse in his voice when he stood outside your door, begging for forgiveness, chanting your name over and over as if you were the deity he worshiped and needed absolution from. It left a bitter taste in your mouth to be yet another person to turn your back on him, but through the wave of your sadness came the tide of anger, reminding you that he had done this. He had forced your hand. He made a choice, and you had to make yours.

The guilt from also having to ignore Karen and Foggy weighed heavily on your chest. They knew what had happened. You had just as many sympathetic voicemails and unanswered texts from them asking if you were okay, and if you wanted to talk. You hated not being able to lean on them when you were at your most vulnerable. They were your family just as much as Matt was, but you couldn’t talk to them or be around them. They just reminded you of him. A huge part of you resented him for that, for making you feel like you couldn’t go to the two other people you loved most in this world for comfort because of what he did. You had spent the past few years building your entire life around Matt, and he had selfishly sent it crashing to the ground, leaving you completely isolated beneath the debris.

For two long weeks, you felt trapped beneath a heavy blanket of depression you couldn’t seem to find your way out from.

And then she happened.

How Elektra had managed to break into your apartment when Matt couldn’t, you weren’t sure, but the day you came home to find her in your living room with a bag of your things packed by her feet, you were stunned silent.

“I need you to come with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Matthew is an idiot and he’s put you in danger. We need to go. Now.”

She didn’t even give you a chance to hesitate, gripping your overnight bag into one hand, and forcing you out your door with the other. The ding of the elevator dropping you to the lobby seemed to wake you out of whatever trance she had put you in, and you stared at her in confusion as you stood firmly outside the metal doors.

“I don’t understand. What are you doing here? Where are we going?”

“I’ll explain when we get there. We need to move.”

“I don’t-“

“Listen. You don’t know me. You’ve got no reason to trust me. But right now, I am trying to save your life. So if you’ll please-“

“Why?”

Elektra paused for a moment as she looked at you. The annoyance on her perfect features vanished slowly, taking in the pain and confusion that were clearly plastered on yours.

“Because you’re important to Matthew, which means you’re important to me.”

Elektra filled you in on everything the moment she had secured you away in a penthouse uptown that was registered under an alias. What she and Matt thought were the Yakuza had ended up being a much older and sinister organization called The Hand. They were into some freaky cult shit that you didn’t quite understand, but you got the gist that they were powerful, and extremely dangerous. They were also everywhere. They had tracked her and Matt, and a man named Stick that had trained the two of them, back to Matt’s apartment the night after the gala. They had been tracking him ever since, and because he had continuously been going to your office and apartment, they knew all about you.

She even told you the truth about how she had met Matt, and how it had all been a set up by Stick to bring him back to their side; to fight the war that he had been warning them both about.

“I don’t know what Matthew has told you about me. Probably nothing good. But I need you to know…I did love him. That’s why I left. I realized…he wasn’t like us. He would never be like us. He was too…good. He didn’t belong with Stick and I. I didn’t want to be the one to put that light out inside of him. I didn’t want anyone to. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble between the two of you the night of the gala. I wasn’t aware that he hadn’t told you that I was in town, or what we were doing. I swear I was only trying to protect him.”

There was a glimmer of regret dancing along Elektra’s waterline, and you could see her own pain shadowing the faint smile on her lips.

“You weren’t the one that lied to me.”

Elektra blew out a breath as she took a seat in front of you, dragging her teeth along her bottom lip as she nodded.

“Matthew always has pure intentions. I know that. But for someone who is incredibly intelligent, he’s also a complete dumbass. He tries so hard to do the right thing…but he doesn’t stop to think about if he’s doing it the right way. Look I don’t…I don’t know anything about the two of you, and I’m not telling you what to do, but I can tell you that he is absolutely in love with you.”

“So…you didn’t come back to New York for him?”

“For his help, yes. To rekindle whatever we had, no. But for the record, even if I had, I wouldn’t have stood a chance in Heaven or Hell against you.”

There was something oddly comforting about Elektra’s words and the timid smile on her lips. It eased some of the tension pent up in your body, and you felt a little lighter as you let a deep exhale out through your parted lips. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you glanced over at her as you anxiously twisted a ring around your index finger.

“I…thank you. You…you didn’t have to…do all of this. I hate to even ask anything of you when you’re already doing so much for me but…can you just…not tell Matt I’m here? I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”

Elektra flashed you a pitiful smile as she gave a slight nod of her head.

“Of course. It’ll be our little secret.”

It only took Matt three days to figure out that Elektra had been hiding you, and as he burst through the front door of her penthouse, he was absolutely incandescent.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. You’ll have a sleepover with her, but you won’t talk to me?”

“Watch your tone, Matthew.”

Elektra glared over at Matt, tightening her grip on the knife in her hand that was hovering over a cutting board filled with various ingredients.

Matt furiously tore off his glasses as he angrily pointed his finger in her direction, the top of his lip curling up into a menacing snarl.

“I don’t want to hear shit from you after you-“

“I protected her because you led the Hand right to her. You’re fucking welcome by the way.”

Elektra let out a deep angry exhale as she turned to face you with a sour pout on her lips. She gestured her head in Matt’s direction with a quirk of her brow.

“I can get rid of him if you’d like.”

“Excuse me?”

“I wasn’t speaking to you, Matthew.”

Sighing heavily as you let go of the whisk in your hand, you pushed the large bowl of batter forward on the kitchen island and wiped your hands off on a small towel. Rubbing your hands over your tired eyes, you waved your hand dismissively towards Elektra.

“It’s…it’s fine, Ellie. I’ll deal with him.”

Elektra eyed you for a moment before shooting another glare in Matt’s direction. She dropped the knife onto the cutting board, wiping her hands off on the same towel before clasping them together loudly.

“Right, well, I’ll leave the knife out just in case. Remember the three main areas I taught you to stab. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

After you watched Elektra disappear upstairs into her bedroom, you turned around to face Matt. His eyes were absolutely wild with rage and his face was morphed into complete disbelief as he blanched at you.

“Ellie? Since when the hell is she Ellie?”

“Since she’s the only one around here that tells me the truth about what the fuck is going on.”

Matt clenched his fists at his sides as he stared blankly over at you, and you watched as a muscle feathered in his jaw.

“What did she tell you?”

“Everything you didn’t.”

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of him in waves, but you had more of a right to be pissed off than he did. Matt shoved his hand into his pocket, producing a shiny silver object that he held out in front of him between his thumb and index finger.

“What is this?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you arched one of your brows as you looked at him.

“A key.”

Your key.

Matt’s nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw, quickly crossing the distance between you to stand directly in front of you.

“Don’t get smart with me. Do you have any idea how it felt to wake up that next morning and you were gone? All of you, your things, everything gone? And to find this on the table? Not even-“

“I’d imagine it was as shitty as you coming home covered in red lipstick and smelling like your ex lover's perfume. Or as shitty as finding out you lied about where you were and who you were with, and that you kissed her and lied about that too.”

Matt ran his hand through his hair quickly in annoyance before dragging it roughly down his jaw, shaking his head as he flung his arms up in the air with frustration.

“Goddamnit Y/N, we talked about that! We worked through it. Then you just…disappeared and ignored me for weeks. You won’t return any of my calls, you won’t open the door, I can’t even-“

“We didn’t talk about anything, Matt! You kept trying to justify your actions and completely ignored how I was feeling. We didn’t work through anything. You manipulated me and we fucked. That is not working through it.”

Matt sighed with exasperation as he stared at you incredulously.

“I did not manipulate you. Fuck, I told you that I wanted to marry you and have a family witn you-“

“In the middle of sex, Matthew! I don’t know if you even meant that, or if it was a heat of the moment thing. And don’t you dare say you didn’t manipulate me. You took advantage of the fact that I was frustrated and that you hadn’t touched me in weeks. You knew I would give into you. How do you think that makes me feel? That you completely ignored my feelings, manipulated me into sex for forgiveness, and filled my head with all those promises knowing that our relationship was in a bad spot. I can’t trust a word that you say because you can’t seem to stop lying to me.”

Matt’s anger evaporated the second he tasted the salt of your tears in the air. He hung his head between his shoulders in shame, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as the severity of your words nestled in the silence. Letting out a soft sigh, Matt’s tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips.

“You’re right.”

His hazel eyes were more clear without the cloud of vexation, and you could see the way they glistened with regret. Matt’s plump lips fell into a frown, and guilt seemed to tug the rest of his features down like gravity.

“I’m sorry. I swore to you that I wouldn’t lie after I told you the truth about me. I broke my promise to you, I betrayed your trust, and I disrespected our relationship. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never, ever meant to hurt you. I didn’t want you to get mad that I was working with Elektra. I didn’t think…I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t considering your feelings. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I could’ve come up with another diversion. All of this could’ve been avoided if…if I had just told you the truth.”

Matt let out a shaky breath as his blank eyes glanced upwards, closing for a moment as he clenched his fists by his sides. A stray tear slipped past his lashes when he opened his eyes again, slowly lowering himself onto his knees before you as he reached for one of your hands to hold.

“I have been…absolutely fucking miserable these past few weeks, and that’s my own fault. I know that. I have hated not getting to feel your touch, or hear your voice, or be able to tell you how much I love you. I am so fucking sorry if I ever made you question how I feel about you, but Y/N I meant every word that night. You are the love of my life. You do belong with me. I do want to marry you and start a family. I swear to God, I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back and your forgiveness. Just tell me what I have to do sweetheart, and I’ll do it.”

It broke your heart to see Matt look so distraught. It stung even more than he was on his knees begging for forgiveness instead of asking you to spend the rest of your lives together, but there was an undeniable conviction in his voice. It soothed the pang in your chest slightly to finally hear him acknowledge his fuck up, and apologize for it instead of getting defensive. Elektra had melted away the insecurity you had felt with her confession, and the frightened look that shattered Matt’s face showed you just how scared he was to lose you.

There was still a lot of work to be done on your relationship. It wasn’t going to be fixed overnight, and Matt was going to have to put in a lot of effort to earn your trust back, and prove to you just how much your relationship mattered to him. But you were in love with him, and you knew there was no one else for you but him.

“You can start by taking care of this…”Hand” shit. I’m not loving the fact that I’m being hunted by zombie ninjas because of my idiot boyfriend.”

Matt’s ears instantly perked up, and a lopsided hopeful grin stretched across his lips.

“I’m still your boyfriend?”

“For now. You’re dangerously close to being replaced by Elektra, though. She’s always bluntly honest, and her bed is way nicer.”

You never in a million years thought that your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend would fight just as hard as he would to keep you safe, but Elektra had. She protected you from The Hand just as fiercely as Matt did, nearly giving her life for you both, and now she was securing the last button on the back of your wedding dress and staring at you in the mirror with a knowing smirk.

The morning you slipped out of Matt’s apartment heartbroken and desolate seemed like a lifetime ago as you prepared yourself to meet him at the altar in just under an hour.

“What’s on your mind, little dove? Got cold feet?”

Elektra quirked one of her dark brows as she stared at your reflection with her signature smirk. Karen had left the two of you alone to go check on Matt and Foggy, and she was helping you with your finishing touches.

After helping save New York, Elektra had stuck around, and to both of your surprises, and certainly to Matt’s, you two had become very close. The more you got to know the more vulnerable side of her, the more you felt for her. She wasn’t the villain that everyone had painted her out to be. She had been a scared little girl, manipulated with a promise of something resembling a family, only to be broken down and molded into something to orchestrate death and destruction instead. It wasn’t unlike what Stick had done to Matt. As a matter of fact, it was worse.

“If I said yes?”

Elektra hummed quietly as she moved your hair off your shoulder, leaning in to rest her chin on it as she wrapped you up in a hug from behind with a grin on her lips.

“Ever been to Paris this time of year? It’s beautiful. We could be at a private air strip before anyone even knew what happened. Matthew is fast, but he can’t outrun a Maserati.”

A grin broke out across your lips as you giggled, squeezing onto Elektra’s arms when she winked. You had never been more sure of anything in your life than you were sure that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Matt Murdock. Both of you knew that. But you also both knew he was eavesdropping just on the other side of the church, and it was incredibly easy to rile him up.

As if on cue, Foggy suddenly burst through the door and pointed a finger at Elektra with an expression of pure irritation on his face.

“Whatever you’re telling her, knock it off. You’re scaring the shit out of him, and he’s already convinced enough as it is that she's not gonna walk down that aisle.”

“Oh relax, Franklin. Girls got to have their fun, yeah? Besides, I thought they called him the man without fear.”

Foggy rolled his eyes as he shut the door behind him, walking over to shoo Elektra away as he stood behind you and adjusted your veil down your back.

“Yeah, until it comes to her. Go head to head with the Punisher who's notorious for using automatic weapons with sticks? Sure. Take on a weird cult of ninjas that can’t die and like to use really sharp swords also only with sticks? Why not. Fuck it, let’s use every goddamn tall building in Hell’s Kitchen for parkour practice. But ask the woman I’m ridiculously in love with to marry me and put up with my shit for the rest of our lives? That’s where the devil seems to tuck his tail between his legs.”

Matt had been an absolute nervous wreck the night he proposed to you. He had brought you to the same restaurant that he had taken you to for dinner on your first date, and was fidgety the whole time. Every time you asked if he was okay, he swore up and down that he was, and you figured there was just something overwhelming one or several of his senses. But then you noticed that despite it being mid November, he was sweating as you walked hand in hand through Central Park, and his hand kept nearly slipping from yours. Finally, you stopped and turned to face him, placing your hand on his chest to steady him.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?”

“N-Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s keep-”

“No, you aren’t. You’ve been acting strange all night. You’ve been anxious and fidgety, and now you’re sweating.”

“It’s hot-”

“It’s November, Matthew.”

Matt’s lips parted slightly as he went to protest, but nothing came out. He was usually good at coming up with excuses on the spot, but whatever was going on with him had seemed to completely take over his mind. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as he averted his gaze to the ground, watching as he clenched his fist by his side. You took a step forward to place your hands gently on his cheeks to cradle his face.

“Matty, please talk to me. Is something wrong?”

“No, no nothing…nothing is wrong.”

“Then what is going on? What’s got you so worked up?”

“I’m not worked up-”

“Matthew.”

Matt let out a sigh of defeat hearing the tone in your voice, his tongue darting out to quickly wet his lips as he attempted to flash you a reassuring smile.

“Can we just keep walking please? There’s something I wanna show you.”

There was evident excitement in Matt’s voice, but it didn’t resonate with you. The way he kept dodging your questions was beginning to put you in a sour mood, conjuring up a bitter taste of realization that he was on the cusp of breaking an oath he had sworn to keep. Dropping your hands quickly from his face, you shook your head in frustration as you turned around swiftly to walk ahead without him.

“You promised me you wouldn’t do this anymore.”

You only made it two steps forward before Matt blurted out a confession laced with full blown panic.

“I’m in love with you.”

Immediately pausing, you turned around to look at him in complete confusion.

“I know that, Matt.”

Matt let out a heavy exhale as he rushed forward and took your hand into his, scrunching up his nose as he shook his head quickly.

“No, I…I mean…that I’m…fuck, this isn’t going right.”

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose as his lips pursed into a frown, and you eyed him curiously as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“What isn’t going right? What are you talking about?”

“Will you just…come with me? Please? I really need to show you something.”

Matt’s face was twisted in what looked like agony, and the desperation in his voice made you nervous. You didn’t think you had ever seen him look so…terrified, not even that night at Elektra’s when he thought you were going to leave him for good. You allowed Matt to guide you further through the park, venturing off down a path only he seemed to know, and stopping once you reached a gate that was covered in ivy. He pulled a key from his pocket to unlock it, and pushed it open with a slight creak, gesturing for you to enter first with a timid smile.

A shocked gasp flew past your lips as you stepped inside. It was an isolated garden, completely closed in by ivy covered walls, lit up only with various strings of white twinkle lights and the glow of the moon. To your delight, there were several plants and flowers in full bloom, and the whole scene looked like a vibrant painting you would hang on your wall.

“I hear this place is beautiful.”

Turning around to face Matt, you noticed that he had taken off his glasses, and was apprehensively turning them over in his hands over and over. The timid smile was still plastered on his lips, but his eyes were nearly blown open with distress.

“I…it’s…I don’t even know how to describe it. How…how did you find this?”

“Karen did. It’s technically private property owned by the city, but Brett owed me a favor.”

The puzzlement on your face only grew as you stared at Matt, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you gestured around.

“Is this why you’ve been acting so weird? You didn’t think I’d like the surprise?”

Matt’s eyes darted back and forth blankly as he dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, swallowing thickly as he placed his glasses into his jacket pocket and took a few cautious steps forward.

“I…I hoped that you’d like it.”

“Matty, I love it. It’s so beautiful. But you didn’t have to be so nervous to show me this. You could’ve taken me to a random alley and I still would’ve loved it.”

Matt let out a breathless laugh as he shook his head, clicking his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he smiled softly.

“Then it wouldn’t have been special.”

A furrow formed between your brows as you looked at him, trying to decipher all the cryptic pieces he was laying in front of you.

“What wouldn’t have?”

Matt was silent for a moment as he fixed his gaze on your face, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly as he studied you. Finally letting out a deep breath, he reached out to take one of your hands, brushing his thumb delicately over your knuckles as a slow smile spread over his lips.

“I told you, I’m in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you, Matty.”

Matt took a step closer as he brought his other hand up to cradle your face, a tender smile on his lips as he rubbed his thumb soothingly over your cheek. You couldn’t tell if it was the reflection of the lights in his eyes, but they looked glossy, almost as if he was about to cry, and it made you squeeze onto his hand tighter.

“You…are the first person that has ever truly understood me. The first that’s ever accepted and loved both sides of me. You’ve never shied away from one, or favored the other, or asked me to choose. You haven’t given up on me, even when I’ve given you plenty of reasons to. You are the best part of my day. I can’t tell you how…how happy it makes me to know that when I come home at night, you’re there waiting for me. And no matter what kind of day I’ve had, or how rough of a night it was, it…it doesn’t matter, because you’re there. You give me a reason to make it home. I can’t tell you how much I love that I get to fall asleep holding you and listening to your heartbeat, and start every day hearing your voice and kissing your lips. I have never felt as…happy…and light as I do with you. I want to spend the rest of my life feeling this way. I want to spend the rest of my life ending every night with you and starting every morning with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So-”

Matt let out a shaky breath as he slowly dropped his hand from your face and tightly held onto your hand. You were already in tears from Matt’s words before, but the moment he dropped down onto one knee before you, the floodgates opened and a choked sob caught in your throat as your other hand flew up to cover your mouth.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

“Oh my God, Matty…yes…yes!”

Matt blew out a shaky breath of relief as he closed his eyes for a moment, the tension in his shoulders evaporating right in front of your eyes as he let his head drop. You couldn’t help but laugh as you stared down at him in perplexity.

“Did you think I was going to say no?”

Matt rubbed his hand down his face to wipe away his own tears, letting out another breathless laugh and sniffling as he looked up at you with a goofy grin on his lips.

“Figured I had a fifty-fifty shot.”

Lips splitting into the biggest smile you had ever seen, Matt quickly rose to his feet and grabbed your face, capturing your mouth in a deep kiss as you gripped onto his jacket to hold him close. All of a sudden he quickly pulled away and shoved his hand down into his pocket.

“Oh shit, uh…sorry…I…here.”

Matt laughed nervously as he pulled a small velvet black box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal the ring inside. Your mouth fell open as a gasp escaped, and you gripped onto Matt’s forearm as fresh tears welled in your eyes.

“Matty…”

“Do…do you like it?”

“I…I love it. It’s…it’s perfect. How did you-”

“I had some help.”

Glancing up at Matt through your teary eyes, you watched as a bashful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Pulling the ring from the box, Matt gently grabbed onto your wrist with a shaky hand, and carefully slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit absolutely perfectly, and you stared down at it in awe as it dazzled beneath the lights. You were overwhelmed with so many emotions, and you didn’t know what to do other than grab Matt’s face and pull him down for a searing kiss.

The two of you gripped onto each other as if you were afraid the other might disappear if you loosened your grasp even the slightest. You were a flurry of lips and teeth, trying to devour the other’s desire, consuming the taste of happiness together. Matt laid you down in the soft grass of the garden floor and made love to you right there, intertwining his hand with yours that wore the symbol of his love and promise to you.

A burst of laughter ripped through your chest at that memory of Matt’s nervousness as you covered your mouth, staring at Foggy knowingly in the reflection of the mirror. Elektra’s mouth split into a huge grin as she rolled her eyes, pressing a quick kiss to your temple and giving Foggy’s shoulder a squeeze on her way to the door.

“Alright, alright. Let me go do damage control. I’ll see you both out there. Oh, and Y/N, darling?”

You turned your head to look over at her as she paused in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

A warm smile tugged at the corners of Elektra’s mouth as she stared over at you, leaning her head briefly against the door.

“You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

You pursed your lips slightly as your face twisted up faintly into an expression of gratitude, returning her smile with one of your own.

“Thank you, Ellie.”

Elektra flashed you a quick wink, closing the door behind her to leave you alone with Foggy.

“She’s right, you know. You do look beautiful.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth as you looked at Foggy in the mirror, arching one of your brows quizzically.

“Did you just agree with her?”

“That stays between us. This is a one time thing.”

Laughing softly, you turned around to pull Foggy into a tight hug, sighing in relaxation as his arms came around you to hold you securely to his chest. There didn’t seem to be anything that a hug from Foggy Nelson couldn’t fix. All of the pent up nerves seemed to dissipate from the warmth of his embrace, and you suddenly felt a million times lighter.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have anything to thank me for.”

“I have everything to thank you for.”

“Well in that case, I think Foggy would be a great name for your future kid.”

A deep laugh rumbled in his chest as you giggled, pulling back slightly to peer up at him with a grin.

“I’ll put in a good word.”

After Foggy left you alone to go rejoin Matt and the others, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your dress for the millionth time. A part of you was still in disbelief that today was the day you were marrying your best friend. Matt had sworn to not take the second chance you had given him for granted, and had been treating it as if it were sacred. He opened up to you about everything now, even the rough nights that plagued his thoughts, and the horrors he desperately wanted to protect you from. There wasn’t a single thought or emotion he hid anymore, and he’d even gotten better about finding balance between each of his lives. That wasn’t to say that you both didn’t struggle from time to time still, but your relationship was the healthiest it had ever been.

A knock against the door tore you from your thoughts, and a smile quickly spread across your lips at the sight of the figure leaning against the doorway.

“Hey big guy.”

Frank’s mouth split into a grin as he looked at you, giving a slight nod of his head in your direction.

“Hey darlin’.”

Turning away from the mirror to face him fully, you swallowed thickly as you smoothed your trembling hands down the sides of your dress and gestured to it.

“I look okay?”

Frank cocked his head to the side as he smirked, taking you in with his eyes as he took a few steps forward to stand in front of you.

“You kiddin’? You’re gonna knock Red on his ass.”

You didn’t hardly have any family outside of the chosen one you had made with Matt, Foggy, Karen, Elektra, and Frank. When you’d let it slip to him that you would be walking down the aisle alone, Frank instantly offered to be the one to walk you. He confessed that it would probably be the closest he would ever get to walking his own daughter down the aisle, and you graciously accepted without hesitation.

A smirk curled at the corner of your mouth as you let your eyes wander over his large figure, finally meeting his deep brown curious eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so…”

“Dressed up, yeah yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

“I was gonna say not covered in blood.”

Frank let out a deep chuckle as he shook his head slowly, looking down at you with a dazzling grin on his lips.

“Figured I could behave for a few days so I didn’t mess up your pretty dress, yeah?”

“How generous of you.”

As the processional music started to play, the nerves you felt earlier returned full force, and you gripped onto Frank’s arm tightly as the reality of the situation started to sink in. This was actually happening. Matt was waiting for you on the other side of these doors, and in just a few moments, he would finally be your husband. Tears started to form in the corners of your eyes as your emotions started to catch up with you, thinking about everything the two of you had gone through together, and how it had all led up to this moment. Frank’s lips brushed against your cheek as he bent down to whisper into your ear.

“You say the word, and I’ll get you outta here. No questions asked, yeah?”

Gripping a little tighter onto his arm, you leaned into Frank’s embrace as a shaky breath left your lips.

“Where would we go?”

“Wherever you want, darlin’. I could hide you places even he couldn’t find.”

You swore you heard Matt groan loudly on the other side of the door, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you dipped your head back to look up at Frank. Taking a deep breath in, you exhaled slowly through your parted lips and nodded with a soft smile.

“I’m ready.”

Frank gave a slight nod as he leaned in to kiss your forehead, dropping his left eye in a wink as he smiled.

“Attagirl.”

“Frankie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Don’t let me fall, please.”

Frank wrapped his right arm tightly around your waist, holding onto your hand with his left one as he squeezed it gently.

“Never.”

»»———　　———««

“As absolutely beautiful as you are in this dress, it’s time for it to come off.”

“You don’t wanna leave it on?”

“I’d love to, sweetheart, but it’s kind of in my way. Besides, it’s so pretty, I’d hate to ruin it with all the things I wanna do to you, Mrs. Murdock.”

A soft gasp left your lips as Matt gently sucked on that sensitive spot on your neck below your ear, and you could feel him grin against your skin when your heart skipped. He had taken every opportunity throughout the evening to call you that, or refer to you as his wife. Every time it hit your ears, a buzz of serotonin flooded your bloodstream and left you hazy.

“And what, exactly, is it that you wanna do to me, Mr. Murdock?”

Matt’s fingertips brushed lightly along the exposed skin of your bare back, causing a shudder to course through you while his nimble fingers delicately tugged the zipper of your dress agonizingly slow down your back. His stubble tickled against your cheek as he nuzzled your jaw, inhaling your scent deeply while leaving open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck.

“Fuck a baby into you.”

Gripping tightly onto his suit jacket, you were suddenly taken back to that night over a year ago when he’d first made that promise, and his words from that night flowed through your ears.

I’m gonna marry you someday, Y/N.

I will put a ring on your finger tomorrow.

I will put a baby in you tonight.

A fresh wave of mixed emotions glossed over your eyes, and Matt slowly pulled back to stare blankly down at your face with an expression of concern as he cradled your face in his hand.

“What is it, angel?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Matt tilted his head to the side slightly as his honey hazel eyes gazed down at you, tongue darting out to quickly wet his lips before they pulled into a timid smile.

“Was it the wedding you always wanted?”

Bringing your own hand up to cup Matt’s jaw, you pulled him in closer to touch your foreheads together as you whispered softly.

“Of course it was, Matty. You were the groom.”

Matt had been continuously asking you the same question all night, wanting to make sure you were absolutely happy with the biggest day of your lives. Honestly, it had been perfect. Karen had taken over as your unofficial wedding planner, and between her, Marci, and Elektra, you’d hardly had to lift a finger. Getting married in a church wasn’t a huge deal for you since you weren’t religious, but you knew how much it meant to Matt, and you offered to marry him in his church where his parents would’ve married. It was small and intimate, exactly what you both wanted.

The second you stepped through the open doors with Frank, Matt immediately started to cry. You were only a second behind him as soon as you saw him, the two of you gripping onto each other’s hands as Father Lantom led the ceremony, bringing everyone in attendance to tears as you exchanged your heartfelt vows. Matt had captured your lips in a deep kiss as soon as Father Lantom uttered his name, and he lightly smacked him over the back of the head with his bible to remind him that he was in church when the kiss started getting a little too heated for the house of God. Maggie had simply laughed, reminding Father Lantom that Matthew was indeed Jack Murdock’s son.

The reception was held at Josie’s where you had first met Matt over two years ago, courtesy of Karen. Foggy had drunkenly climbed onto the bar to deliver his best man speech which only drew further tears out of everyone from laughter by telling the most embarrassing story he could conjure about Matt from college, and also from the passionate gratitude he showered you in for making his best friend the happiest he had ever seen him.

Matt told me once he thought you were an angel created by God himself, and sent down from Heaven just for him, exactly when he needed you. I believe that’s true. There’s no other explanation for how perfect you are for him. Thank you for bringing my brother the happiness he’s always deserved. I love you both.

Karen could hardly contain her own tears as she spoke fondly about you and Matt, bringing even Frank and Jessica to tears with her sweet words.

I knew the night you met Matt that you loved him. I could see it in your eyes. Thank you for loving him the way that you do. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me as your best friend for you to end up with someone like Matt. Because I know he will take care of you, and protect you, and love you with everything he’s got, and I know you’ll do the same for him. I’m just so happy my two favorite people found each other.

“Today was the happiest day of my life. A day I never honestly thought would come, but I’m so happy it did, and I’m so happy it was with you. I wouldn’t change anything about it. I mean…apart from everyone offering to help you runaway, but.”

A loud laugh slipped past your ears at the annoyed look on Matt’s face, countered by the smirk that was threatening to spill across his lips. You gently squeezed his cheeks to purse his lips into a pout, leaning in to kiss them softly.

“You know they were joking.”

“No, Frank and Elektra were serious. They were actually gonna smuggle you out.”

Giggling softly, you shook your head as you leaned in to press your lips against Matt’s softly once more.

“Well I didn’t run, did I?”

Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“No. Still not sure why you didn’t.”

“There was cake.”

Matt rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up above you, and you giggled uncontrollably as you grabbed onto his tie to pull him back down towards you.

“I’m kidding! You know someone has to keep the Devil in line.”

Matt clicked his tongue against his cheek, narrowing his eyes slightly as he cocked his head to the side and stared down at you with a light smirk.

“That the only reason, then? Because you’re the only one that can?”

“I can think of a few more. Now, I thought you were helping me out of this dress?”

“I was.”

“Then be a good husband, Matthew, and help your wife.”

Matt’s eyes darkened considerably at the sultry tone of your voice, and a devilish grin took over his mouth as your beloved dimples settled in his inner cheeks. He was careful as he slipped the silk gown down your body, laying it carefully over the dresser before attacking your body with kisses once again. You frantically clawed at his jacket and dress shirt, blindly making quick work of his belt, already panting just from the idea of having your husband inside of you. There seemed to be a silent understanding between the two of you that neither of you had the patience for foreplay tonight, and all you both wanted in that moment was to be absolutely consumed by one another.

As Matt settled between your spread thighs, a wash of nerves made you shiver, and you found yourself placing your shaky palm on his chest over his heart to get his attention.

“Matty…did you…are we…you really want a baby with me? Right now?”

Matt tilted his head in confusion as he let his eyes blankly wander over you, placing his palm flat on the pillow by your head as he leaned in closer towards you. You and Matt had been talking more seriously about starting a family after you got engaged, and you stopped taking birth control a few months before the wedding to make sure it was fully out of your system for when you two were ready to actually start trying.

“Of course I do. Why? Did you change your mind?”

“No! No no, it’s not that. I just…you aren’t going to miss it? I mean…the city means so much to you, Matty, and-”

“Hey, you mean the most to me. You’re the love of my life, sweetheart.”

You wrapped your fingers around Matt’s wrist as he held your face, nibbling at your bottom lip as you let out a shaky breath.

“I know, baby. I just…I know how much you need that part of yourself-”

“Not anymore. All I need is you. I’m still protecting the city, and the people in it, everyday. I’m still helping people. But New York doesn’t really need Daredevil anymore. It has people to protect it, like Luke and Jessica. And Colleen, Danny, even Frank and Elektra. You need me. And the one thing I care more about protecting and keeping safe is you, and our family.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret hanging up the suit, or feel any kind of resentment-”

“Sweetheart, listen to me. I could never regret anything with you. How could I feel even an ounce of resentment when you’re offering to give me the greatest gift in the world that I’ll never be able to repay you for, hm?”

Matt carefully wiped a stray tear away from your eye as you reached up to gently grab onto the back of his neck, pulling him down so that his chest was flush to yours as you whispered softly.

“I just want to make you happy, Matty.”

“You do, angel. Everyday. You are my happiness. Now, can I please make love to my wife?”

Matt took his time as he entered you, peppering kisses on every inch of your body he could find, moving his hips lazily as he fucked into you slowly to ensure you both felt everything. Interlacing your fingers together, he held your hands above your head and squeezed them tightly, repeatedly whispering into your ear how much he loved you, how beautiful and perfect you were for him, and how badly he wanted you to give him a baby. Matt pulled your legs tightly around his waist, angling your hips to reach the most delicious depths within you, spilling his seed into the deepest layer of your garden to plant the foundation for the family you both so desperately wanted together.

Neither of you could get enough, and Matt fucked you sweetly and slowly several more times into the early hours of the night until your bodies simply couldn’t take anymore. He refused to withdraw himself from you, keeping his soft cock nestled within you, preventing any ounce of your future he had emptied into you from slipping out as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Matt placed his palm over your lower belly, absentmindedly stroking his thumb in slow circles over the first home your child would have.

“I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you so much, Matty.”

Matt was here. Matt loved you. Matt was yours.

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @thychuvaluswife

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock smut #daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil smut #frank castle #elektra natchios #foggy nelson #karen page

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