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#as his sister watches with distaste
theellipelli · 8 months
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better luck next time, lyney
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eraenaa · 3 months
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Blessed Curse
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Aemond Targaryen x Strong Reader Tag List
Synopsis: When a marriage between you and Aemond was arranged and forced by your grandsire, conflicting emotions arise, but which one will loom greater? Loathing or Love?
Warnings: Enemies to Lovers Trope, ¿Softer Aemond?, Arranged Marriage, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (F receiving), Targcest, Not Proofread 
Word Count: 6,803
A/N: Final tribute (maybe) to Season 1 Aemond, you have fed us with your crumbs for the past two years. Based on a few anonymous requests where they wanted a prequel of 'Loathe to Love.'
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Aemond’s frown severed as he looked through the window and watched as you and your kin exited the wheelhouse. He felt his sneer severe as he spotted a look of dissatisfaction adorned your plain face as you had realized the lack of welcome provided for your kin’s return. “Spying, brother?” Aemond jumped in his spot, his sister taking him by surprise as she appeared by his side. “I am not,” he said defensively, and Helaena only hummed, gazing below as the day of your awaited arrival had arrived. “Then why have you been waiting by this window since the morning?” Helaena asked, and Aemond clenched his jaw and stayed silent, not giving a response to his sister. 
“Come, join us, Mother, and I shall greet them,” Helaena invited, and Aemond shook his head, scoffing at his sister’s invitation. “I’d rather not subject myself to their… treasonous presence,” He said, and Helaena sighed, walking away in silence. 
Jacaerys raised his gaze and caught the sight of a silver prince looking down upon them. He warily traveled his oak gaze to you, who stood by the side of your stepfather. “Should we not tell her already? How long must we keep her in the dark about our true purpose here?” Your brother whispered to your mother. “Your grandsire shall be the one to tell her. The king must be the one to impart to her his wishes and orders,” Your mother sighed, guilt heavy in her heart as the whole of your family had kept the true reason for your return to Kingslanding from you. 
“Helaena!” You called out in excitement as you entered the walls of the keep, your aunt, along with her mother, welcoming you. Helaena smiled widely at you as you took her into an embrace; though you had a distaste for the capitol, Helaena was the only one you were actually excited to see once more. “How are you?” You asked, paying no mind to the tense conversation between your parents and the queen. “Well. I am glad of your return,” She smiled, and you only smiled as well as you could not lie and agree with her statement. “I’ve been told you now have three children,” You tried to converse, and Helaena nodded. “I do; little Maelor arrived just two moons ago,” She confirmed, “Would you like to meet them?” Helaena asked, and you eagerly nodded, slipping away from your kin who were to venture to your grandsire’s chambers. 
Aemond stalked the halls and watched behind the pillar as you walked with his sister, arms linked. He rolled his eye as you strutted through the halls as if your mere presence were not damnable. “Are you spying, brother?” Aegon appeared by his side, Aemond being caught off guard for the second time that hour. “I am not,” Aemond spat and walked off, but Aegon still followed him. “I have to admit, even I did not expect our niece to grow so… enchanting,” Aegon hummed, looking steadily at his brother to see what reaction his words would garner him. Aemond shook his head, not wanting to concede or show agreement with his brother. 
“If you’re still having qualms about this marriage, perhaps it could be I to marry her instead.” Aegon hummed, further testing his brother. “The conqueror had two wives, did he not?” Aegon added and noted the way his brother clenched his jaw and fisted his fists. “You are no conqueror,” Aemond gritted and made hastened steps towards the tiltyard to escape his brother.  “I do not understand your animosity, brother,” Aegon still followed.
“Were you not so… overly fond of her years before?” He asked and made fast steps to match his brother’s furious gate. “If I had remembered correctly… you had even asked Mother if you could be betrothed to her when you were nine,” Aegon reminded, and Aemond halted in his steps as he was made to recall the instance. “Leave before I succumb to my thoughts and maim you,” Aemond gritted, his hand already clenched around the hilt of his sword. Aegon let out a laugh at his brother’s threat but retreated because there was a murderous intent in Aemond’s eye. 
Aemond had a few moments of solace in the tiltyard before you once again began to haunt him. Aemond halted his sparring with Ser Criston as he heard a laugh so melodious he was certain it was brought by delusion. He turned to the side and frowned as he learned that the laugh he had heard came from your lips, the melodiousness he relished upon just moments ago; he now convinced himself it was aggravating. The prince huffed as he saw his older brother standing by your side, Aegon being the reason for your mirth, and Aemond could not help but wonder if his brother’s actions were genuine or just another ploy to aggravate him. 
“I see your intended has arrived,” Ser Criston stated as his eyes went towards where the prince’s gaze was placed. “Aye, she has,” Aemond gritted and shook his head, twisting the sword in his hands and urging himself to continue training. “Have you spoken to her?” Ser Criston could not help but ask, curious as to what the marriage order by the king would entail. 
The knight held no fondness for any offspring of the spoiled cunt they call heir, but he himself could not be so cruel to show any animosity towards you. You were saved from the insults that he had no trouble throwing at your brothers. Ever since childhood, you were kind and gentle and good-humored. You were the only one who genuinely showed kindness to Aemond even if he was being picked on by his brother and yours. You were the only one who never cowered away from Helaena and her odd demeanor. You were the only child of Rhaenyra that the queen and her sworn protector could tolerate. It also bodes well for you that you were not present during the ambush in Driftmark. Instead, you were sound asleep next to your aunt as her brother’s eye was cruelly taken. 
“No,” Aemond answered, his tone held disgust that the knight was a tad confused by, but he made no mention of it. Ser Criston readied his position to return to sparring with the prince, but Aemond was still wholly distracted by your presence. His frown severed as the smile on your lips did not lessen whilst you kept chatting with Aegon. It would seem his brother would make good with his tease of taking you to wife as well, and though Aemond had no wish to marry you, there was a pestering feeling inside him that savored greatly of jealousy, but he did not wish to admit. 
The one-eyed prince disregarded his training and walked in your direction. You were in the midst of a laughing fit, but it quickly died as he arrived, the wide smile on your lips lessening. “Niece,” Aemond greeted, the word said through his teeth. “Uncle,” you curtsied quickly, and Aegon smirked as the scene unfolded before him. “Well, isn’t this nice,” he stated, and you turned your gaze to your elder uncle. “A reunion that is well overdue, do you not think so, brother?” He asked and clapped the back Aemond, who stared daggers at him. You licked your lips as you felt tension now surrounding the air. Aemond’s eye shifted back to you, your gaze lowered, your fingers playing with each other, and your bottom lip in between your teeth. He swallowed thickly as he did not expect a sudden surge of an odd sensation to overcome him. 
You parted your lips, ready to speak, but a call through the tiltyard caught your attention. “Tala,” Your stepfather called; the three of you turned towards the steps and saw the Rogue prince approaching. “Good day, uncles,” You said quietly and curtsied before them before running towards your father. Daemon eyed curiously his two nephews you were speaking with. Daemon offered his arm for you to take as he escorted you up the steps, and judging by the smile that was still on your lips and there was no horror in your eyes, he deduced that none of them had spoken about the true reason for your return. 
Daemon tried earnestly to contest the marriage. To make his brother see reason and not cruelly tie you with his deformed son. He even went as far as returning to Kingslanding the moment he and his wife received the message of his brother’s order. But the king had made up his mind. You were to marry Aemond. 
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Two days had passed since your return to the Red Keep, and you were still clueless as to why you and your family had returned. “When do you think we’ll leave?” You asked Lucerys as he went along with you in the gardens, your younger brother carrying the flowers you picked and were planning to give your grandsire you were still yet to visit. “I do not know, sister,” Lucerys mindlessly said, his focus transfixed on your uncle, who stood by the side, glaring at him with his lone eye. You, however, were oblivious to the presence of a silver prince. 
Aemond clenched his jaw as he watched you leisurely pick at the flowers. He had been observing you through the days of your return, and he could not fathom why you were not bothered by the whole ordeal as to why he saw no aggravation or anger in you as you both were tasked to marry each other. You exuded an entirely different outlook than Aemond when it came to this doomed union which made him wonder at the possibility that perhaps you wanted it. That you were willing to marry him. Aemond found the possibility preposterous, but it was the only answer to your lax, unbothered disposition. The more Aemond thought about the possibility of your agreement to the marriage, the more it left him unnerved. But it would answer his questions as to why you did not show any outward animosity towards him. Completely civil at any of your encounters— even going as far as flashing Aemond a ghost of a smile when you passed him by the hall. Were you truly in want of this marriage? Aemond was torn on how to feel or perceive this. 
“Must we not already tell her? We’ve been here for two days already, and she is still completely clueless about the reason for our return,” Jacaerys asked his mother, who sighed deeply. “Aye, I would take she would not appreciate this secrecy— especially the severity of the situation,” Daemon added, studying his wife who stepped towards a window that overlooked the gardens where you spent the afternoon in. 
“The king must be the one to tell her. He… he must be the one to tell her his wishes.” Rhaenyra said once more, unable to be the bearer of bad news. She could already foresee the anger, hurt, and fear in your eyes, and it made her stomach pit and twist painfully. She had made a promise to herself that her daughter would be saved from the political marriages most of them were subjected to— to save her from the heartache and the displeasure of having a husband bound to you not by love but by political gain. But even she could not protect you from such cruel fates. Having no choice but to watch as you would retell the plights of women before you. 
“The king has been incoherent for days. The wedding ceremonies they prepared are set in a fortnight— we must tell her Rhaenyra. She must know of the matter now so she could prepare herself,” Daemon spoke, “Prepare herself to escape,” Jacaerys muttered under his breath, already imagining your reaction that would surely be filled with shock and betrayal. 
Rhaenyra sighed heavily and shook her head, her hand unconsciously going to her forehead to soothe the throbbing pain as she thought about the matter. “If my father still has not regained his thoughts by the morrow, then we shall tell her at tomorrow evening’s supper,” Rhaenyra decided, putting a buffer on the matter, praying to the gods that her father shall regain consciousness and be the one to tell you of his orders. 
You returned inside the castle walls as the afternoon sun was proving to be too scorching for you. Your younger brother went to the tiltyard, and you were left alone as you wandered around the castle you once called home. You were admiring a portrait hung on the wall, your eyes completely fixed on the bold colors and the detailed strokes of the work that your surroundings started to fade, and you did not realize someone had joined your company. “Quite luminous, is it not, your highness?” You slightly jumped, startled by the voice that made itself known. You turned to your right and saw a son of House Tyrell. “It is my lord,” You agreed with a small smile finding itself on your lips. 
Aemond watched the scene steely-eyed behind a pillar as you acquainted yourself with the lord in the empty hallways, unescorted. There was a smile playing on your lips as you two conversed. He watched as the lord started to inch his body closer to you, daring to brush his hand with yours that held flowers in it. Aemond’s already impaired vision burned as he saw a blush rising to your cheeks. The scandal of it! Here you are, a betrothed woman still acquiring and entertaining the attention of eligible young men. 
When Aemond saw the lord take a flower from your hold and dare place it by your ear, Aemond removed himself from his spot of observation and stomped towards the both of you. “Uncle,” You greeted in surprise as Aemond suddenly appeared in the hall. “Good morrow, my prince,” Lord Tyrell greeted, and Aemond could not make the effort to not let his contempt not show. “My Lord,” was all he replied with, feeling your confused gaze by his left as he stood by your side. “The Princess and I were just discussing this portrait. I had remarked on its luminosity and sh—“ Aemond rolled his eye and cut the lord off. 
“If you shall excuse us, Lord Tyrell, I must speak with my betrothed. Alone.” He said, voice utterly cold and almost threatening. Your lips agape at his words, your mind unable to comprehend what he had uttered. “What?” You suddenly asked as Lord Tyrell bowed towards you before hastily walking away. Aemond turned to you, expression angered. “Are you truly this careless? Walking the halls alone, engaging with a lord without an escort. Do you not thin—“ You hindered him from completing his scolding. “What are you saying?” You asked in confusion. “Betrothed?” You added, and Aemond’s brows furrowed. 
“Do not act simple with me; you know perfectly well of o—“ You cut Aemond off once more. “What are you talking about? Betrothed? What?” You continued to voice out your bewilderment. Aemond stared at you, calculating if the confusion on your face was an act. But as he stared at your eyes, he knew your confused state was genuine. “You do not know, do you?” He asked quietly. “Know what?” Aemond licked his lips and looked around the empty hall. Just hours ago, he believed you were in full knowledge of the upcoming union between the two of you— that you were completely fine with a marriage with him, for he saw no resistance or rebellion. But what is there to resist or rebel about when you are left utterly clueless? 
“We are to be married,” Aemond stated, and you gazed up at him as if he had grown three heads. “Us… married?” You asked slowly, and Aemond gave a curt nod, waiting for the dread in your eyes, but he was left shocked as you began to laugh. The hall rang and echoed your laughs, Aemond watching you as you clutched your stomach and continued to laugh at the absurdity of it. He scowled as you gasped for air, your laugh still ringing in his ears and riddling his skin with gooseflesh. “You have an odd sense of humor, Aemond. But I am glad that after all these years, you finally learned how to jest,” you said in amusement, gazing at his lilac eye as you waited for him to break his peculiar act. However, when only seriousness was present in his Valyrian orbs, the smile on your lips faltered. 
“Are you serious?” You asked, your tone dripping heavy in disbelief. “It is the order of the king,” he replied, and you shook your head. Aemond clenched his jaw as you still did not believe his words. “Why do you think you’re here? After all these years of informal exile, why do you think your family was summoned? You and I are to be married.” He explained, frowning at how slow you are to comprehend the situation. Now, the dread that Aemond was waiting for was presented greatly on your plain but pretty face. “I… I do not believe you; you are lying.” You say, and Aemond stepped closer. “Why must I lie about this unsavory matter? What I speak of is the truth. If you do not take my word for it, go ahead and ask your parents, and they will tell you the same thing: you and I are to be bound to one another.” Aemond said lowly, his face drawing closer to yours. 
You shook your head and stepped back, your gaze still locked with Aemond, who stared at you undeterred, seriousness the only thing on his face. “You will be my wife.” He stated and watched as fear grew heavier in your eyes, and you ran across the hall in search of your parents. As Aemond stared at your departing figure, he began to wonder if it was satisfying to finally see the fear and rage in your eyes that he had been expecting ever since your arrival or if there was another pestering emotion that he wished not to entertain. 
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“Mother!” You called through the halls, eyes already threatening to spill with tears. When you reached her chambers, she and your father turned to you, worry shining on their faces. “My sweet girl, what is it?” She asked and took hold of your hands. “Tell me it is not true— tell me he lies,” You almost begged. “What?” Your mother asked quietly, not accepting the fact that you now knew of the betrothal. “Please, you’re not marrying me to Aemond, are you? That’s not true, yes? He was just teasing me,” You said desperately, willing your mother to confirm your theory. But as she said no word and only went pale, your knees felt weak, and a pitting of your stomach presented itself greatly. 
“It… it is the order of your grandsire,” She said delicately, moving you to sit down as your breath had been rendered short through your cries. Daemon watched by the side, his hold on his sword tight as he could not bear to see you in such a state of distress. “No… please, you cannot make me!” You wailed as your mother tried to hush you, soothing you, running her hands through your hair, and patting your back just as she did when you were a child. “Please… I… let me speak with grandsire— he cannot marry me to him,” You pleaded, and your mother’s saddened eyes gazed at you, her warm touch moving to wipe the tears on your cheeks. “I’m sorry, my sweet… we have begged your grandsire, implored him that this union could not be. But he had made up his mind, and none of us could alter it, not even Alicent.” Your mother whispered. 
You sniffled in your seat, your thoughts running with dread and confusion. “Why did you only tell me now? How could you hide this from me?” You asked in betrayal. Daemon sighed and went to where you sat, kneeling before you. “We wanted to tell you, tala. To prepare you, but we foolishly thought that we could still alter the decision of the king. We had not told you, for we did not wish to distress you with a matter that we thought we could change.” He said softly, watching as tears fell from your eyes. You bit your cheeks and shook your head, “When… when must we marry?” You asked in dread. “In a fortnight,” Your mother replied and felt her heart clench as you stifled a sob. “I’m truly sorry, my sweet girl,” She said softly as you cried quietly in her arms. 
“It would appear they hid it from her,” Aemond remarked to his mother as he sat in her chambers. “They thought they could still alter the orders of the king,” She remarked as quietly as she observed her son, who stared at the fire. “I still have not asked you about your thoughts on this marriage,” The queen remarked, watching as her son clenched his jaw. “You need not ask; you already know of it,” Aemond answered. The queen breathed in heavily. 
“This may not be what you want now… but this was all you had wanted when you were a boy,” Aemond shook his head, a scoff leaving his lips. “Will all of you stop reminding me of it? Aye, I did want her when I was a child, but I am a man grown. I do not wish for a marriage forced upon me— especially when my bride is to be so… plain,” Aemond frowned at himself as he sensed hesitancy as he uttered the words that used to roll off effortlessly. It was the truth; you were plain— your features nonconforming to the house they tried to sell as yours. But you had never been plain the sense of attractiveness, your beauty celebrated throughout the realm, beguiling the lords of Westeros and years before, Aemond as well. Alicent stayed silent, for she could not offer comfort to her son, who was bound to a marriage that was devised for the crown.
When the crown announced your impending matrimony with your one-eyed uncle, mixed reactions were shared. Nevertheless, the kingdom was made to celebrate the event. You tried to hide your frown as your grandfather made you and Aemond parade around the streets of Kingslanding, a picture of unity to be sold to the small folk so they could attest to the new age of dragons. 
“Is this truly necessary?” You asked your father as you were sitting in a carriage. Aemond was still to board it, but he and his grandfather were conversing. “It is what your grandfather wished,” You hear your stepfather say, his violet eyes shifting to your betrothed. “But why? Is he even of sound of mind? I thought others were now tasked to do his bidding; why did they let this happen?” You asked in a plea, ready to jump off the carriage as you felt it jostle and your soon-to-be husband sitting next to you. “Best stop your bellyaching. You are not the only one who is shortchanged with this marriage.” You gritted your jaw at his words, turning to your father wide-eyed, trying to discern if he had heard it as well. 
Daemon clenched his fist around the hilt of his sword at his nephew, who had the gull to offend you, his precious daughter. “Your brothers and I will follow closely behind. It is only for a few hours, tala,” he gritted, and you unconsciously pouted as your father walked away, leaving you alone in the presence of Aemond. 
You traced the patterns of your gown as you rode out of the castle gates. When you reached the streets, you straightened your back and plastered a slight smile to appear as if you were somewhat happy with the devised marriage. Aemond scoffed and rolled his eye as you greeted the small folk, smiling at them and giving them a small wave of your pampered hand. He frowned at how much you loved their attention, giving them a pitiful show. “You might want to lessen the scowl… the purpose of all this is to present a united figure,” You whispered as you passed a crowd. 
“I will not be part of this farce,” Aemond spat and glared at a group of men whose hungry gaze were enclosed on you. “You are a prince of this realm. You have no choice but to be the crown’s puppet,” You said, with a tight smile as you waved toward a group of women. You feel Aemond’s glaring stare at the side of your face, but you willed yourself to ignore it. However, when the other small folk started to notice the glare of your betrothed, you turned to Aemond with a smile still on your lips, looking at him with your fictitious love-struck gaze, and you wanted to laugh as your act took him aback. 
Aemond stared into your eyes, perplexed at the look you gave him. Soft, adoring, and… he could not name the other element in your enchanting eyes. He had to look away as he felt himself stagger, and his breath was caught in his throat. When the crowd lessened, Aemond returned his gaze to you, the smile on your lips at the look in your eyes gone within a snap. You turned to him angrily, “Play the part for the subjects, Aemond. I do not expect much from this marriage, and I certainly do not expect us to get along behind closed doors, but when in the eyes of the public… best not to dishonor our house with another display of a fraudulent marriage. As all have kept reminding us, this is our duty.” You say quietly, tone bitter and overly severe. Aemond pursed his lips and clenched his fists around the air as the tumultuous crowds started to return once more, and the counterfeit smile on your lips returned. 
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The day all had dreaded finally came. You stared blankly in the mirror as you were dressed like a doll. You were resisting the urge to run through the halls and escape a life of hate with a man who had only loathing in his heart for you. 
You stood before the door of the great hall, your arms linked with your mother as she walked you down the aisle. “I don’t want to,” You suddenly said, cold and clammed hands holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You tried to walk away, but your arm was linked with your mother’s, and she prevented you from doing so. “I am so sorry, my sweet, but not even you are above duty… none of us are,” She said solemnly, and you breathed out a previous breath as trumpets sounded out and the doors of the halls started to open. You bit your lip as you planted yourself on the ground, resisting the pull of your mother for you to walk. Your knees felt weak as you took small steps towards your groom, your mother practically dragging you down, her body a step ahead of your reluctant frame. 
When you reached the end of the hall, and your hand was placed upon your betrothed, you resisted looking Aemond in the eye. Aemond stared you down, the image of you wholly too much and all-consuming. This was all he had wanted. This was the dream he dreamt every night in childhood. You, in a white gown and a veil covering your comely face, and him standing before you as your groom. 
He could not explain how— how he had kept up his act for this long. To fake his animosity and loathing just in hopes that one day it would turn true because hoping and waiting for you was only a dream he had. Pretending to hold distaste for you because it was easier than letting himself hope that one day you will be his. But now, all those years of yearning have finally come to an end because before the sun could set, you will forever be bound to him.
“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” Aemond recited and hesitantly looked toward you. Your hands were cold upon his, and Aemond took a deep breath before leaning in to seal your marriage with a kiss, your first kiss. The deafening roars and cheers of your guests were unheard as Aemond could only focus on the way it felt to kiss your lips. His mind only concentrates on the small taste he had of you— his entire being immediately starved for so much more than the quick and chaste entanglement of your lips. 
You and Aemond were silent for the whole feast, a small smile plastered on your lips as to appear agreeable to the hundreds of eyes upon the both of you. You were too entranced to appear joyous that you were oblivious to the strong, calloused hand that had never left yours. Long, slender fingers drawing circles upon your flesh as if to soothe you. 
You turned to Aemond, his eye on the sea of dancers on the floor. In disbelief that he was still holding your hand. You were in shock that he was willing to keep up the pretense so immensely— a pretense of unity that none seemed to notice, for your hands were tucked under the table. 
When Aemond felt your stare, he turned to you, and you searched for the familiar cruelty and hatred in his eye; you found none. “Do you wish to dance?” He asked, and your lips parted in shock, taking a moment to comprehend his words. You could only nod, your husband leading you to stand. You were silent as he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer to his body. The other dancers disappeared to make room for you and your groom, a slow, mellow melody enveloping the great hall as the eyes of your guests were turned to you and Aemond. 
You stared blankly at his chest, eyeing the metal buttons of his vest, and tried to ignore the erratic beating of your heart. Aemond took in a deep breath, your scent intoxicating his senses more than the wine he had indulged himself for the night in preparation for the later activities. When it was the end of your third dance, you finally spoke, “I’m quite tired,” You said lowly, and Aemond gave a curt nod, taking your hand into his once more and guiding you to your seats. 
Five more songs passed with you and Aemond in complete silence when your sisters appeared by your side. “Sister… we’re to help you to prepare for the… night,” Rhaena said lowly and cautiously. You feel your stomach drop and your nod. You stole your hand from Aemond and excused yourself before disappearing with your sisters, Aemond’s eye following your frame until you fully disappeared away from his view. 
Aemond gritted his jaw as he felt his brother clap his shoulder, “Are you ready for the bedding ceremony, brother? I hope you still remember what I have taught.” Aegon teased and took your vacated seat. Aemond stayed silent and downed another chalice of wine, ignoring his brother. “But it is fine if you are not ready… perhaps I could substitute in y—“ Aemond turned to his brother with a severe glare. “One more word concerning my wife, and I will cut your tongue,” Aemond gritted, and Aegon’s amusement only grew. “There he is— there is the boy who wanted no one else but our niece.” Aegon grinned. 
“You are a great actor— you almost had me fooled, but no amount of hate you display could make me forget about the little boy who would follow around our strong niece like a lost pup,” Aegon’s grin grew wider, and he quickly stood to walk away before his brother turned violent. 
Aemond downed another cup before he had no choice but to join you in your chambers. He stood by the door and took deep breaths; the shy little boy in him returned, and he had no idea how to cope. Aemond bit his lip and mustered all his courage to step inside your marital chambers. He knew neither of you could perform what was expected that night— as much as he wanted to perform his duty, he knew in himself he could not.
Aemond walked in quietly, his eye on the floor as he entered. Aemond heard shuffling, and he lifted his eye. Lilac orbs placed on a screen divider lit by the flickering light of a candle, your silhouette traced upon the thin paper of the divider as you fixed your shift. Aemond felt his knees weaken, taking a seat on a chair, his eye still fixed on your shadow. By just the outline of you, of your peaked apples straining through your shift and your graceful body turning behind the divider, he already felt pleasure wash through the whole of his body. His cock painfully straining in his trousers, he would think by the amount of wine he had downed, he would be left slack that night. 
You took in deep, calming breaths as you stepped out of the divider and decided to wait for your husband, but to your surprise, he was already seated in your chambers. You looked at him wide-eyed, having the urge to cover your body, but you reminded yourself that this intimacy was part of your marriage— at least tonight. 
Your gazes did not meet as you stood by a distance from where Aemond sat. The crackling fire between the two of you is the only sound surrounding the room. You gulped before you stepped close to your husband, footsteps overly heavy with every step taken in his direction. “Kneel,” You hear aemond grit, and you frown at his words, ready to fight his order, but you remind yourself that just for tonight, you will do your duties as a wife. 
Aemond was left breathlessly as he watched you slowly sink to your knees. He bit his tongue harshly as his eye went to your plush thighs pressed together, having the urge to squeeze them and feel if your skin was as soft as his mind imagined. 
You waited, wrapped in anticipation of what was to happen next. You shuddered as you felt his cold hand come to cup your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. Your eyes fluttered to a close at the surprisingly gentle touch, your body moving closer to him without any way of controlling it. As your eyes were still fluttered close, you felt the familiarizing way of his lips upon yours. You felt yourself already quivering and you placed your hand on Aemond’s leg to steady yourself. Aemond leaned forward to feel more of your lips, his cold touch placing itself on your shoulder, feeling the bare skin as the sleeve of your shift had dropped off. 
You moved to part from him, out of breath with the kiss you shared. The taste of him and wine imprinted on your tongue. Rose your gaze to meet his eye, and you saw that the lilac orb had turned dark. Without another word, Aemond smashed your lips once more. Kissing you more fervently and pulling you to stand. You whimpered as you felt him bite your lip and pull down further the thin cover you wore. You were in a daze as his lips kissed your sand, and his hands roamed your body, harshly gripping your behind as he led you to the bed. 
It was his turn to part your lips. You lay bare on the silk sheets of the feathered bed, his standing before you still fully clothed, and you feel a rush of embarrassment course through you, showing its evidence on your cheeks. Aemond hastily undid the buttons of his vest, eye still locked with yours; he did not miss the embarrassment and perhaps even scandal in your eyes, the tell-tale sign of your purity, and he could not help but succumb to more pleasure by the thought. 
You shifted your gaze as Aemond stood bare before you, the image of him quickly engraving itself in your mind. You bit your lip as you waited for him to shift his weight atop yours, but you were left perplexed when, from the side of your eye, you saw him sink to his knees. You propped yourself on your elbows as he pried your legs open, a deep frown on your face as you tried to comprehend what he was doing. When you noticed his head straying closer to your cunny, your eyes widened in further scandal. 
“What— Aemond, no!” You say breathlessly and try to close your legs shut, but his hold on your thighs is too strong. “You told me we must perform our duty, wife… let me perform them,” You could only fall back on the plush mattress as you felt the foreign feeling of lips upon your cunt. Aemond sucking upon the pearl of your cunt as his tongue would dart out and tease the bud. You breathed heavily and bit your lip to prevent any sound from being heard, which only made Aemond double his efforts, wanting to hear you be wrapped in utter pleasure. 
Aemond groaned at the taste of you, palming his length as it already wept, crying to be inside you, but he knew he must prepare you first. That he must savor you like this, for he did not know if after this— after this initial duty, when would be the next time he’ll have the opportunity to have your cunt against his face. 
Aemond finally pried a moan from you, smirking as he moved his finger to tease your folds, a louder moan coming from your lips as he teased your entrance. “A—Aemond,” You called as he inserted the digit, your body rigid and back arching the sensation. “Such a tight cunt… you kept yourself pure for me,” Aemond hummed and groaned as he felt your legs wrap themselves around his neck, pushing his face further to your cunt. He chuckled, and the vibrations from it made further wetness escape your cunt, your hips, your hips gaining itself upon his face; his finger found a companion, and the digits curled inside you. Brushing against the rough spot that spurred you quickly into your climax. Aemond groaned as he heard your muffled voice moaning his name.
You stared at the canopy bed as Aemond rose to his feet and finally placed his weight upon you, his lips finding yours again. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you cannot help but moan, Amend smirking as you find pleasure in tasting yourself; you were quite sweet. 
Aemond finally gave in to his wants and aligned himself against your entrance, brushing away your tears that were quick to escape your eyes as he pushed further into your cunt. He was cautious with his movements, not wanting to cause you any unnecessary discomfort. He was patient, waiting for the pained furrowed in your brows to turn to a furrow of pleasure; when it did, his thrust was still cautious. It was some pleasurable torture; he needed more, but he could not be so cruel to present you with such pain. 
“Faster,” You breathed out as you felt his thrusts were too slow to bring you to the climax you now sought. Aemond was uncertain if he heard you correctly, so he played it safe and kept his initial pace. “Aemond… please, I— I need it faster,” You urged, letting go of any pride in you as your body needed him. Aemond blinked for a moment, comprehending your quest before wholeheartedly obliging. 
Your moans spewed loudly as his thrusts were deep and fast, his finger drawing circles upon your cunt and supper you further into your release. “Oh gods… Oh gods, Aemond!” You cried and clawed his back as you came undone. Aemond groaned into the shell of your ear as his own release was quick to follow, his lips finding yours as his seed rooted itself deeply in your cunt. The thought of heirs already festering in his mind. 
That night, Aemond held you in his arms as you slept. His mind was made; he would do anything for your marriage to prevail, for the past to be shed and be forgotten. For you to be happy and contented in his arms, for he already was. As long as he had you, the only girl he had and will ever want and love, he was perfectly content with this blessing of a marriage they had disguised as a curse. 
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Part Two: Loathe to Love
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g1rlken · 3 months
Text
┏ Like real people do ┐
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Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
summary: The reader is Aemond’s new bride, a match fixed some time before Viserys’s death. Daemon’s daughter through Lady Royce navigates through a difficult now into a new chapter of being married to the one eyed prince, council and war.
warnings: daemon being an awful dad, Luke’s death, attachment issues, angst, slow burn, arranged marriage
word count: 5.1k
Part 1. Part 2
-
Worlds changed, dragons spew fire, flowers burnt and flowers bloomed, children born and doomed. Y/n, Daemon Targeryn’s first born through Lady Rhea Royce. A child he had despised ever since her birth, just an extension for his hatred towards Lady Royce in the first place. He could never stand her, having been forced to his duties he hated her even more. He was never around for the aftermath of anything, the rogue prince who knew no bounds. The child wasn’t even half a year old when he mercilessly put an end to Lady Royce. The ‘accident’ left the child at the kindness of pitiful wet nurses and the castle staff.
King Viserys however couldn’t stand such tragedy over and over, he generally refrained from interfering his brother’s life. He did regret his decision of marrying daemon to someone against his will but he could not have anticipated such a harsh counter reaction via Daemon. Especially after the babe, Viserys thought the child could perhaps soften the coldness of their relations but it only got worse. The king wished to seek some atonement at least for the sake of the child. Y/n, the princess, away at the grasslands of Runestone. He arranged for her to live at the red keep, a motherless child with an absent father would do better within her present family. The King’s children through alicent were mere babies themselves. The maids, the kind Queen herself, would do well to look after the infant. After all the red keep was her house just as much as it was Daemon’s despite his grievance towards it. Her dragon too was well looked after through the keeps instead of Runestone staff. Her dragon was just a hatchling as y/n too was a baby herself.
Alicent, younger at the time. The keep’s staff, mastered in squalling babies and fussy infants. Y/n wasn’t a bother at all. Not that she were to remember but Queen alicent was kinder to her than the fates had been, she nursed her like one of her own. Such fondness and softness towards daughters, it was nice enough. At least for a while. Y/n was six by the time daemon had come for Rhaenyra’s wedding, then off with Laena. No familiarity between the six year old y/n and her father. Too young to understand her family setting and Daemon still rancour.
Daemon had two daughters with the driftmark princess, viserys deemed him capable enough to raise y/n then. He decided to send little y/n back to her father, viserys wanted his brother to accept his daughter. Alicent had a smaller voice at that time yet she tried to reason with her husband to let y/n be at the keep. Daemon had to accept his brother’s whim anyways so he did. Viserys was as relieved as Alicent was anxious that y/n was in Pentos. King made the decision in good faith, if only he put a bit more distrust in daemon than he did trust. Daemon was still the same, y/n, still a child and he did nothing to make her feel included or at home. She learnt to keep to herself how she had seen Haelena do. Still quite young to comprehend where all such distaste came from, all these different people, different land. She longed to call a place home, her memories of the red keep, Alicent, the others it kept fading because she was but a baby back then. Her father wouldn’t teach y/n how to ride on dragon back how he did with her half sisters. But y/n had taught it to herself. Watching she learnt, she didn’t have to be told explicitly what to do. She fell a lot, on her face and back but she learnt anyways.
As years passed nothing changed between y/n and her father, her half sisters were company enough time to time but she was always in their orbit and not as close. All until Driftmark, they lost lady Laena. Y/n was in her early teens and she tried to be there for Baela and Rhaena. She stood by their side through their mother’s funeral. She understood the gravity of such tragedy, she lived with that grief all her life for her mother who was a stranger she never even met. But she mourned her longer than she’d known her.
Reunited with Alicent, gaining a distasteful look from Daemon. “You’ve grown so much” Alicent remarked as she pulled the girl into her embrace. Both of them looked so much different from when they last met each other. The girl had distant memory of the queen but her warmth was nicer than she had known anyone else’s. Despite the occasion alicent was brought some peace of mind seeing Y/n, she didn’t look her best but at least not the worst. She didn’t have to ask y/n to know if Daemon spoke to her, if she felt at home. She reintroduced y/n to her children, some of them y/n didn’t even remember through faces if not for name.
“She was such a small babe.” Helaena commented as she greeted the young girl. It had been years since Helaena had seen her. Aegon and Aemond just stood with disinterest, Aemond trying to mask it otherwise regardless.
After the tragedy that was which followed Laena’s death upon the nightfall of her funeral. Aemond’s eye was taken and it was a rather gruesome unfolding. A night which left a permanent distance between families. A mark which shaped Aemond for years to come.
As the years followed, dragonstone proved to be just as dreary and awfully lonely for y/n. None of her half siblings were her own or ever treated her as such, unsolicited kindness was all she would get here and there and she had accepted surviving it. Thinking of lives far away, a place where life would begin. But it was perhaps never. As King Viserys’s health worsened the queen and hand took matters into their own hands bit by bit.
The queen, declared that it is but the king’s wish for Aemond to be married with y/n, Daemon’s firstborn. Viserys was asked about it, surely, his decision was firm and wearily elated about the marriage so what does it matter who pitched the thought as long as the king agreed. Aemond was agitated. He did not want it, at all. For the ever present and abiding Aemond he had a rift with the thought of marriage to y/n. But he kept his shortcomings to himself.
Even more so mortified was y/n, she didn’t remember how exactly was her childhood at the red keep but she did recall that ever since driftmark, that family would surely not have a soft heart for her. “Father please don’t-please don’t make me do this” she pleaded Daemon.
“It is the King, my brother’s wish.” Daemon said in a disregard of her wish, surprisingly he was fine with his brother’s second hand wish too. Daemon was aware that the Hightower queen and Otto is who pulled all the strings and his brother was a bed ridden king but this was a decision in his favour as long as he could be rid of y/n.
“You cannot marry me off like this!” She exclaimed, for someone who rarely expressed thoughts to daemon. Something she learnt in all those years with being met with cold shoulder all of life, she had to fight for her life as of now. “Not to Aemond, please father please, I do not know any of them-“
“You do. You have spent most of your childhood at the hip of that Hightower queen you will be just fine.” Daemon scoffed with a bit of condescension in his voice. Indifference as he referred to Alicent.
“I do not remember them” y/n tried to reason, any wet nurse could show sympathy to a high born motherless child she did not account to be in a marriage with that sympathy at this stage in her life. “They are complete strangers, father, please I will stay wherever you ask please don’t marry me off!”
“You are of age, y/n. This is a fitting decision for you!” He exclaimed with growing irritation at this conversation, daemon never paid mind to her moreover chose not to and hence he had expected her to show nothing but compliance.
“For me or for you?” She asked with a bitter huff looking away from her father already losing hope in this conversation, she couldn’t stomach this decision without letting him know her repulsion of it. “You are so eager to wash your hands off of me as if I have ever wronged you, all my life, I’ve never asked for anything-“
“Haven’t you?!” Daemon said loudly, his rage visible in his tone “The fact that you exist is asking too much of me as it is. You are an awful reminder and a mistake. I have been subjected to duty and honour and it is only fair if you are too. It is your duty, if not to me then to the King.” With that the door was slammed as the rogue prince walked out, an ironic vision of her life.
A bitter goodbye and an uncertain life with little to no hope y/n was set for the red keep, glancing back at dragonstone for one last time. She didn’t know if she held any homely softness for that place in her heart but she presumed the life which awaited her would be more dreary than the stone.
The wedding was an intimate affair, a small ceremony but still a lot of strangers y/n had never seen. Daemon refrained from attending but it was no surprise. She was met with warmth and affection from her mother in law and her family but not her husband to be, they were all a strange set of people down here in the south from the maids to the king himself who didn’t even sit on the throne yet made decisions.
Even the most beautiful flowers would wither away at the heavy heart of the new bride of new title, the princess. She couldn’t stand her person she was becoming or moreover the mere idea of what she had to be. Aemond wouldn’t even share the same bad as her, almost every night for the first week. He’d rather sleep on the sofa or some nights he’d just never return from wherever he wandered off to.
Barely getting the grasp of it, small domestic solaces just everytime she was with Halena and her mother in law, tending to her niece and nephew. The only time she felt less alone but she was familiar with the loneliness, that wasn’t the problem. It was the nerve wrecking confusion and uncertainty that followed after, eating her alive every night that she would lay. Within strangers now, she felt a stranger to herself too.
Days passed, circumstances arose: the king fell. Aegon was declared the king, a restless unease of an upcoming war. The hand’s very first decision was passing daemon’s seat on the council to y/n. “What?” She asked wide eyed as the hand and queen pitched it to her. “Why, me? I’m not even that learned…” she trailed off.
“You spend most of your time in the library, you happen to have a knack for reading. I’m assuming you can write too?” Otto questioned, if more number of people on the council were his own to mould and speak for the rule would be so much easier.
“Yes but just letters and scrolls..” she trailed off with a sigh, it was rather strange they would approach her for something as important as the council in the first place.
“We need sharp mind of a soft heart on the council.” Alicent said as she caressed her daughter in law’s cheek, with a smile to put some confidence in her. Despite her father’s motives of having y/n on the council, Alicent believed y/n would prove to be rather fruitful and genuine.
“It is also your birthright, through your father’s seat on King Viserys’s council. It is only right if you were to be a part of it.” Otto added in an encouraging manner. The pieces were being set already, as the blacks were processing their own steps.
They had Aemond set to go meet lord Dorros the very next morrow, with a bribe of the crown’s coin and loyalty. The forces set, Aegon’s coronation done. Just one last afternoon council left. Aegon, riding the high of his coronation wasn’t present in this one.
Everyone took their respective seats, it was an eventful morning’s slow afternoon. The coronation was as eventful as it was unpleasant with the beast beneath the boards. Sending out scrolls to other lords, the council discussed it. Y/n didn’t say anything, just listening. Writing out the needed scrolls, Alicent quietly remarked her beautiful hand at the words.
The door slammed open as Aemond entered, he was enraged at his wife’s seat on the council. “Aemond.” Alicent said as the room stiffened.
“What is this?” He asked with as his brows furrowed, he felt very wronged and partially frustrated that his lady wife had a seat on the council above him.
“It’s a meeting.” Otto declared as he looked back from the board back to Aemond, “Not yet done, what is your business here?”
“What is she doing here?” Aemond inquired as he leant over a chair, more belonging in this room than anyone else. Especially his wife, he thought to himself the other members with an awkward look on their face.
“She has a seat extended on the king’s council after her own father, daemon.” Otto filled him in on the subject, visibly disinterested.
“Daemon’s claim on the council died with my father’s death. She holds no such extension.” Aemond reasoned calmly, very much opposed to the irritation rising inside him.
“I’m still a hand to the king aren’t I? Your mother is on the council. Lord Tyland-“ Otto replied back but was interrupted by Aemond midway before he made his point.
“None of them sworn against Aegon. Daemon has called for the pretender hence his seat on this council holds no significance.” Aemond scoffed looking down at his wife who sat, scrolls lay in front of her and a pen in her hand. She felt overwhelmed with such necessary distaste, the hand to the king and queen mother herself asked her to join the council yet Aemond had an issue. It’s not as if she were to act against the interest of the crown or make big decisions to begin with.
“She is the princess. Your lawfully wedded wife, in the eyes of the gods and all the members of this very council and more. Despite Daemon’s treachery and your incoherent jealousy she belongs here.” Otto said breaking Aemond’s mouth, he knew which nerve to exactly hit. Saying Aemond was jealous, of his lady wife’s seat in front of everyone. It was enough to send him seething back and he was right. With a huff as he stared down at y/n, he turned to his heel at left.
Everyone had their accustomed part with a potential war brewing. Aemond had to leave to meet lord borros next morning. Y/n assumed he would be calculating and supposedly busy with his task at hand yet he found time to cause a scene at the council. Y/n knew that nobody on the council saw her as a threat because they all knew of daemon’s indifference for her. The black sheep. In truth she didn’t owe her father any loyalty either so their calculations were correct, her husband however.
She planned to avoid him regardless, spending the rest of the day with the twins, Helaena talking her ear off about her fixated spider and y/n loved that too. Jaehaera was playing with y/n’s hair, adding her toys into it making improper braids. Jahaerys running in circles and hoarding his toys in y/n’s lap as she enjoyed a conversation with their mother.
Alicent walked in, for a moment just taking in the domesticity of the scene. The serenity, the girls laughing. It was rather rare before y/n to see Helaena at peace like this. She entered with a soft knock greeting everyone and she took a seat next to y/n, “Children you must retire your auntie now, it’s rather late!”
“It’s alright mother, it’s not that late.” protested, Haelena she enjoyed y/n’s company as much as the whining children, Jaehaera caged y/n in her tiny arms from her back to not let her go. However through alicent’s hesitant eyes y/n realised she must have some sort of business to discuss.
“Forgive me my loves I am growing a bit tired…but I’m not going anywhere I’d be back soon enough!” She said with a sigh as she kissed the twins goodbye, both of them a bit protestant but let her go eventually. “Good evening, Helaena.” She smiled and bid her goodbye as well and exited with her mother in law.
After they were out in the hallway, secluded of other ears Alicent proceeded “Are you alright?”
“Yes, your grace” y/n replied with a non hesitant nod, in an instant with a smile confused why would that question come up.
“Mother.” She corrected her stopping on her way to turn to face her.
“-Mother.” Y/n said with a soft smile rephrasing her title.
“After…today’s council. You have been avoiding Aemond?” She asked searching for y/n’s dreary eyes.
“No-that is not the case” y/n shook her head trying to formulate a better answer given she hadn’t asked that question to herself. Because in a sense she was avoiding Aemond. “I—“ she breathed “I am rather anxious.”
“Of what? Does he speak to you in an ill manner? Do you wish for me to talk to him?” Alicent inquired concerned for her hesitation of Aemond’s lashing out or whatever it was she was trying to avoid.
“No-no it’s not that…I just feel guilty. He wants an authority, his opinion to be heard at council level and I get that place before him, we’re not at the best terms to begin with and now he must be cross with me” Y/n explained her worry with a sigh.
“And? It is your right, y/n.” Alicent said as she took her hand into hers in an affirming way, “you must never feel guilty for claims that are solely yours.” She explained, “as of Aemond, he can be difficult sometimes, but I assure you he isn’t malevolent. He loves you.”
The Queen mother’s assurance felt it came from a place of gentle constitution and the motherly naïveté of overlooking some things but y/n was more than aware that Aemond did anything but love her. She was familiar with lack of warmth, affection, just so far from it she could almost find strange ways to dwell in it. It was an emotion she knew for so long, from her father’s house to her husband’s, bricks of her old life and no love.
But she did not tell alicent of her wearies, after all she did not worry about it she was at terms with it. But she was worried meeting Aemond, as of now, she walked the hallway to their shared bedchamber with heavy breaths. Aemond was looking out the giant window, he had a journey to make the next morning to the baratheons yet he wasn’t resting or preparing. Much to y/n’s demise she hoped he’d be off somewhere else. She closed the door behind her as she entered, Aemond never talked to her generally. She never spoke unless spoken to but today silence weighed heavy between the two of them.
“The meeting ran late did it?” Aemond asked without looking back at her, he could tell from the soft stride who entered their chambers.
“No, I was with Helaena…” She trailed off growing strangely anxious because she felt answerable to him. As if it would compensate him and that was her burden to bear. “The meeting was rather trivial”
“Was it now?” He scoffed in a bigger way and turned to face her, “You must have provided the trivial meeting with your other worldly wit and understanding of warfare.”
“Aemond” she said taking in a sharp breath, meaning to tread carefully “I know you are upset. Believe me I did not know beforehand of the planning nor was it offered to me, the hand-queen mother they deemed it as my duty and right and I did not have other choice otherwise I would’ve asked you…”
“Asked me what?” Aemond interrogated crossing his arms as he leant against the stone pillar, her feigning nonchalance and false sympathy irritated him to no end.
“To take my place” she answered. She meant it in a genuine sense because she did not hold the same passion or want for a seat on the King’s council the way Aemond did. It was far from her. “I’d rather you take my place, I have no wish for authority on the council. I could ask the hand to-“
“You truly are the imbecile I presumed you to be.” He said assertively as he stiffened, his shoulders tight. “Are you that naive? Do you think I would need your help to put myself on the council? Yours?” He said as he huffed, berating her was his intention. Y/n remained silent, unmoving in her place no matter however she tried and help him or soften the rift in their marriage he was always imbecile from it. In the meantime he walked a bit closer to her, towering over her given his taller stature he leant forward by a bit to make himself appear intimidating.
“My apologies then.” She muttered lowering her gaze from his because she felt rather scrutinised by him as if she was at fault for something, as if she had wronged him. “Excuse me” she said before he could reply and attempted to retreat away to the adjoint bathroom. Wait out him falling asleep or leaving. The newlywed with their peculiar marriage of indifference.
-
Aemomd’s return from his errand with the Baratheon lord contained of a difficult detour nobody had anticipated. Rather difficult, to navigate such a blow through warfare. The council, y/n merely heard and spoke four sentences on an average, was shocked. No idea of action status not war treading. Circumstance heavy on everyone. Shame and disregard.
Sitting by the burning lamp, late evening, the scrolls and letters were to be written with such urgency after what happened with lucerys y/n had to take it to her own desk. Too busy with the works she barely processed the loss yet, she did not know Lucerys as a brother but an acquaintance who was rather kind to her all those years.
She barely looked up when the door opened, only when Aemond drew closer. Rather too close to her desk, he leant on the table where she was writing. Close to where she was sitting he breathed heavily. Putting the pen down and the scroll aside y/n looked up at him. “What did the king say?”
“The king?” Aemond repeated with a small laugh, he was still getting used to the new titles but referring those even behind closed doors was somewhat strange. “Aegon, he is not the most serious about it. Collateral damage he said.” Aemond repeated the words, he was never fond of the bastard himself but he never planned to take such drastic step. “Grand sire had a lot to say and mother, she is disappointed. Perhaps everyone is disappointed?” He asked emphasising ‘everyone’ referring to her. He did not know of his lady wife’s connection with the Strong boy but his own mother had a dislike for him and yet she was disappointed.
“I don’t know warfare as good as the lot of you, but” she nodded to his previous implication of being disappointed in a way, such loss must be difficult to stomach for those really close. “It is a lot…”
“Do you grieve him?” Aemond asked, his tone non threatening nor interrogative, subtly calm.
Pausing y/n thought about it for a moment, she was quick to side with the hand’s cold and calculative decisions as her mother in law suggested writing Rhaenyra letters instead, y/n herself weighed heavy on practicality as if grief was non existent. In a way it was. “I don’t know” she said puzzled “We were never close but he was kind to me, not all of them and not everytime but whenever he could be…” she trailed off. “He was easily anxious about a lot of things, scared.” Last time she had seen him it was the dinner for King Viserys upon the discussion to heir of driftmark. The scene that followed that dinner was distant in y/n’s mind until now. The same inferior fright was in Luke’s eyes that day.
Aemond did not say anything, her words made him feel guilty even more so but he would never display to anyone. He fought for his life debating to the council, to grandsire that it was an accident however not enough for him to take accountability of it as if he had done something wrong. He knew he had, but he did not show it. He could not. It did not come from a place of sympathy nor altruistic intentions but an ambush of unsolicited guilt. “Is it true?” She asked him.
“What is?” He replied as her voice pulled him out of his thought and his gaze met hers, she still sat on the desk the soft orange hue of the lantern on her face.
“You hold no regret?” She asked him referring to the conversation he had with the council when he was confronted about what happened. He did not owe his truthfulness to anyone, especially not the council.
The heavy silence between the two of them told her more than his words could, her eyes softened as he pondered his unsaid exoneration. Nobody would believe him but she might just, “I did not mean for that to happen, nor did I plan it.”
There was a crack in his demeanour, very different from how he presented himself back in front of everyone else about the the whole ordeal. Accountability seeping in and he should know, “Acting bigger than the situation won’t provide you with the atonement you are looking for.” She told him, forgetting herself when he asked for her advice and she assumed in such delicate state of mind he would rather lash out than listen but he did not. He was present, here to listen. To her? So far he had made it so very clear that he held no regard for her whatsoever.
“I am not looking for atonement.” He said more to himself than to her in a gentle tone and a hint of lostness in his expression. He longed for something, some consolation of some kind but he did not know exactly what and he felt restless with heavy emotions.
“You are.” She answered for the question he did not ask out loud, however the epiphany of it was not lost on him as he looked at her like an open wound. He did not protest her because she was right, she held the answers to herself. She could think for him despite of what he did and it unsettled him in some way because he had never felt such softness of anyone else. To know that he had done something he would have to seek atonement for and…hold regard for him still?
“Do you see me differently then?” He asked, small fright creeping him on the inside if she affirmed his answer.
“No” she replied without hesitation nor enthusiasm, she did see him less ruthless and uncaring than she had previously known him to be but she did not tell him that in this state of mind of his. However the heavy silence and the remorseful tension was too much to bear. She stood up from her chair seemingly to leave and attend some other task, just then realising he stood rather close. Before she could attempt to move away he stopped her. Holding her by her wrist he pulled her close but he was already close enough, the distance shortening this small for the first time since their wedding.
“Do you truly, not see differently?” He asked again with searching eyes. He couldn’t do with her short no however affirming as it was it wasn’t absorbing. It did not feed to his shame and guilt.
Y/n did not know how to soothe his wearies, she never thought her perception would matter to him at all. The walls within their marriage came crumbling down as he held her wrist it seemed, she wasn’t going away yet he kept a hold of her. To ground himself more than her. After staring into his eye for what seemed like an eternity she simply pulled him into her embrace, in a tight embrace. Her arms holding his broad stature the best they could, raising on her toes to bring him as close as she could.
Aemond was stunned to say, for a moment. He could not fathom she would want to tread so gently with him after what he had done he did not expect such, such softness. As he enlaced his arms around her waist, hugging her back as he raised her closer to him. His person. He had never felt such warmth and love of hands that would show soft affection even after knowing his ugly work, he was met with her comfort when he deserved retribution. It nestled his spirit in a serene place, he worried the place would vanish if he let go off her so he didn’t. He kept holding her close to him, closer of it was possible as he buried his face by the crook of her neck.
After a while she pulled away but not entirely, resting her temple against his. His soft breath on her as she sighed closing her eyes. He followed to, until he met her gaze again. His impulse wanted to touch her face to make sure she was real, that this moment was. So he did. Fixing the loose strand of her hair behind her ear he cupped her face. She did not move away, heart racing in such gentle exchange between the two of them. It was a first and he did not want her to extend her boundaries for his sake but he could not stop himself, he brushed his lips against her.
Indulging in a passionate kiss, holding her face in his hands as if she was made of porcelain. It was the first time somebody had held y/n with such fragility. Such affection was very foreign to her all her life, even the kiss on their wedding day felt forced and ceremonial. But this felt real, it was. She kissed him back and held him close, standing in the light of a desk lantern, the moonlight seeping in and lovers who might just be alright.
—part 2.
I am sorry if this feels rushed, i skipped season 1 bc i want to do all of s2…please let me know what you think in the comments 💕
If you want to be in the taglist pls comment AND go drink water RIGHT NOW ILY SO MUCH !!!!!!!!
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livinginshambles · 10 months
Text
No, you listen to me | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Aftermath of when you ran away from the Yule ball, cinderella style. after the Christmas holidays, both of you return to hogwarts with different objectives. James tries to find out who you are. You try to make sure he never will.
Notes: Not proofread. Mistakes. Once again because people keep forgetting, english is my third language, be kind. Themes of bullying, discrimination, very bad sister relationships. Regulus is like a BROTHER. James tries?
Masterlist Part one. Part three
_________________________
Your eyes scanned across the parchment, rereading James’ apology, but all you could really feel was disappointment and anger. What was even the point of trying to prove anyone wrong? You leaned back against the cushions of the armchair and pulled your knees up, wrapping your arms around them to steadily lock them in place. Then you let your head drop.
You pressed your watering eyes into your knee, effectively letting your pajama pants soak up any tears that threatened to fall. You gently rocked yourself back and forth while you tried to clear your mind. You wouldn’t let any of this get to you.
A hand pressed itself to your back, right between your shoulder blades. “Let’s get you out of here,” Regulus spoke up. His tone was hard, but only because of his clenched jaw when he thought back to how you had run off with a betrayed look. The second he realized it was James who was the mystery guy, he had kept a close eye. He knew things wouldn’t end well with those prejudiced twats, and he was right.
You pathetically looked up at him, and Regulus didn’t bother to hide his grimace at the sight of your face.
“Don’t exaggerate you arse,” you mumbled and shoved him light-heartedly.
“Back at you,” Regulus shot back. Then he sighed and motioned for you to scootch over so he could squeeze himself to fit in the armchair with you. “I know you. And I know you know what my brother and his friends are like. Why are you so disappointed?”
You stared at the lit fireplace, lost in thoughts, and eventually shrugged when Regulus nudged you out of your train of thoughts.
“I guess- I really liked the guy on the other side of the paper. And I really hoped that maybe he’d be in there somewhere. And I suppose that for a moment I actually thought James Potter was alright, you know?”
Regulus scrunched his nose in distaste. “Not at all, but go on.”
You shook your head in amusement at him, but let your eyes soften. “I’m sorry Reg,” you whispered.
“What for?”
“Making you listen to me whining about a guy that I know you have personal issues with.” You decided not to mention out loud the fact that those personal issues included the way Sirius had left Regulus behind in that household, escaping to live with the Potters and going as far as publicly calling James his true brother. Found family, he had proudly said.
Regulus knew what you were referring to. He smiled bitterly. “Well, brothers are overrated anyways. I’d much rather have a sister,” he said while nudging you again.
You hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know Reg; I’ll have to disagree with you on this one. I’d much rather have a brother than any number of sisters.”
“How convenient for us.”
“Very convenient indeed,” you smiled happily.
Regulus got up suddenly and turned to you with a stretched out hand. You raised an eyebrow at him.
“I meant what I said, you know. Let’s get you out of here. I do recall you promising me tea at your new apartment.” He looked at his pocket watch. “Well, it’s 5 o’clock in the morning, and the first train leaves at 6. What’s the difference between leaving in the evening or right now.”
“You absolute champ.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
You laugh whole-heartedly and stuff the parchment in your transfigurations book. You and Regulus took the first train and left Hogwarts behind for the Christmas holidays. A break would do you good. Godric knows you needed to get James off your mind.
James carefully placed the glass slippers in his suitcase and covered them with a few sweaters just in case. He had caught the elves recklessly throwing suitcases into the storage compartment of the Hogwarts express before. You’d think that the use of magic would come in handy for tasks like this, but no.
“Prongs, I got you this?” Sirius pushed a sheet of bubble wrap into James’ arms. James offered Sirius an appreciative look.
After thoroughly explaining everything, from the moment when he found the parchment, to who you were and why he decided that he wanted to become someone you would approve of, Sirius had pieced the rest together and apologized to James for leaving such a shit impression on his mystery date.
James sheepishly pointed at his own solution. “Should I change it?”
“Well, I mean did you see how the elves throw around with our luggage?”
James mirrored Sirius' grin. This break truly came at a perfect time. After all, James would let you occupy his mind as much as he needed to find out who you were.
Two weeks flew by in a blur. You and Regulus had set up a Christmas tree inside your small apartment and had made a competition out of finding the most impressive gift for each other, with only 10 galleons.
You had found the most gorgeous black quill and enchanted ink set for him and were rather confident until Regulus had somehow shown up with what looked like emerald, antique and gorgeously over the top earrings. You had shot him a look and he had immediately provided a receipt to prove he had played fair.
“I just have great negotiating skills,” he’d said.
You had hummed skeptically in reply but had happily tried them on.
All in all, the holidays were a very welcome break for you. Which is why you were so very reluctant to pack your bags. The door to your room opened and Regulus stood in the entrance, leaning against the door frame.
“Get out,” you groaned in dismay at the interruption. Regulus shot you an unimpressed look.
“Not until I see you pack; we leave in less than an hour.”
You huffed in annoyance and threw a pillow at his head. “I’m not asking you again, Black.” You flopped back down on your bed dramatically in dismay at the prospect of going back to Hogwarts. Regulus elegantly tilted his head and let the pillow fly past him.
“One hour,” he enunciated, before walking off.
You threw another pillow his way and yelled, “Close the door when you leave, you twat!”
With a flick of his wand, your door closed.
Regulus waited for you with a bag in his hand.
“Where’s the rest of it,” you teased as you motioned to the small amount of luggage he held.
Regulus turned red but stuck his chin up. “Left them here for the summer,” he off-handedly replied. You laughed. “Great, so you can help carry this bag then,” you grinned and pushed your smaller bag into his hands while you marched out the door with your heavy luggage, dragged behind you.
When you entered the platform, and were handed the Hogwarts newspaper, you did not expect to find a picture of you and James at the Yule ball on the front page. ‘Who are you, Willow?’
You immediately folded the paper together and looked up in panic at Regulus. He looked around and found different students excitedly chittering to each other, all while pointing at the newspaper.
“That is so romantic,”
“I thought James was with Lily?”
“No, they’re just friends now.”
“I was wondering who he was dancing with.”
“She looks so pretty.”
“If I found out that my date was James Potter, I’d take off that mask immediately.”
“Well, she could just be shy.”
“So true, probably Hufflepuff, don’t you think?
“I really hope he finds her.”
You grimaced at everyone and all you wanted to do was disappear. “Relax, Y/N,” Regulus smoothly pulled you on board the Hogwarts Express. “No one will know it’s you.”
Despite knowing that he was absolutely right, you still faced the floor as you looked for an empty compartment. You didn’t realize that you were passing James, who had just come back from a train meeting with the other prefects. He had picked up on Regulus’ words and frowned. But before he could really stop to consider Regulus’ statement, Peter happily waved at him from the marauders’ compartment. “We’re over here!” he called out. James forgot about what he heard.
Remus held the newspaper up in the air when James finally took a seat. “Really?”
“It was Pad’s idea,” James immediately said.
Peter curiously grabbed the newspaper. “Any results?”
James shrugged. “It’s only the first day,” he tries to convince himself, but he was not very sure about this approach to find you.
“It’s going to work out, trust me,” Sirius said. “When she sees that you’re going to this extent to find her, you’ll definitely woo her for sure,” he claimed.
Remus pulled a face. “I mean, if she ran off cause you two were being pricks, again,” he gave both Sirius and James a sharp look. “And hasn’t answered any of your messages, I don’t think starting a witch-hunt of sorts is the way to find her,” he voiced out his opinion. ”She clearly doesn’t want to be found.”
“What are you calling my methods bad?” Sirius squinted his eyes at Remus in mock offense.
“I’m just saying they wouldn’t exactly woo me,” Remus dryly remarked.
“And yet-“
“Guys,” James interrupted. “I just want to find her and apologize. And ask her for another chance to prove that I’m more than what she saw.”
“Well,” Peter started. He turned red when all eyes were suddenly on him. “She will probably not reveal herself. But she’s still a student here. And she knows who you are. So maybe if you publicly show off kind acts, she’ll see how you can be?”
There was a beat of silence and for a moment, Peter wanted to change into a rat and crawl into a hole to hide. But suddenly he was patted on the back by James. “Peter, you absolute champ!”
James Potter was acting weird, and you knew exactly what he was trying to do. You huffed to yourself as you marched right past him while he held the door open for his friends and you, who trailed in right behind them.
Previously, James would have definitely let the door fall in your face, and you had anticipated so, thus smoothly switching your books to your left arm, putting your right hand in front of you in a bracing manner. And so it happened that you stood there frozen, hand flat against James' chest, because he had turned around fully to hold the door open for you.
You embarrassedly dropped your hand that still lingered against him, and a deep frown settled on your face.
“I’d take ten points from Slytherin for touching a student without their consent, but I suppose I’ll let it slide for today,” he arrogantly said. You wanted to beat him up. But you supposed you could let it slide for today. You scowled at him and fled past him towards your designated seat.
Something tugged inside James’ chest as he watched you turn your back towards him and hurry away. He walked to join the rest of the marauders, a ghost feeling of your palm against his chest.
It hadn’t just been you that he was more civilized with. You noticed when you found him volunteering in the library, putting away books back on the shelves manually. This bothered you, because he tended to specifically linger around the particular section in the back about Egyptian rites, your favorite. You knew he was there to hopefully spot any often-returning students.
You also noticed that less and less students were coming back to the common room, hexed. Aside from snide remarks, you hadn’t encountered much animosity from him anymore either.
Instead, you found yourself on assigned patrol with him, despite the fact that Regulus had kindly offered to jinx his broom during Quidditch practice so you wouldn’t have to.
“So,” James broke the silence. “How was your holiday?”
“Why do you want to know,” you immediately shot back before you could stop yourself. James raised his hands in surrender. “Woah, sorry, L/N, just making conversation here.”
You sighed and forced your shoulders to lose their tension. “It was fine.”
“Fine.” James repeated.
“Fine,” you confirmed.
That was the end of your conversation, in your opinion. James however, seemed to think differently.
“So did you get any nice presents?”
You shot him an annoyed look but ended up answering anyway. “Yes actually, Regulus got me these earrings,” you said, and you tilted your head to show him. James’ eyes lingered on your earrings. They looked good on you. The exaggerated gem made you stand out despite your sober attire.
“What else?”
“What do you mean, what else?”
“Why, did your parents not buy you anything or what?”
You halted mid-step and stared up at James. He noticed that he had said something wrong, and when your sisters came to mind, he hurriedly tried to take his words back. You didn’t let him.
“I don’t go home for the holidays,” you settled on. “I’m not particularly welcome there. My parents are as big of a fan of me, as Alyssa and Marla are.” You laughed bitterly and continued walking. James followed behind you, he didn’t say a word, instead waited for you to continue.
“Well, I’m in Slytherin after all. Which obviously equals being an evil blood supremacist. They wouldn’t want to associate themselves with that, of course,” you sarcastically remarked.
James felt guilt slowly seep in. Your words resonated in his mind and his hands grasped the folded parchment in the pocket of his robes tightly. Those were his exact same words of that night at the Yule ball, and he bit his lip. “I’m sorry.”
You looked up at him, surprise evident in your eyes. “You’re sorry?” You asked him in disbelief.
James nodded. If he couldn’t say it to his mystery girl, at least he could say it to you, he figured.
James watched your eyes light up slightly and for a moment, he was lost in a trance. He snapped out of it when you returned the question. “So how was your holiday?”
He grinned at the olive branch that you were reaching out. “Mine was fine.”
“Fine?”
“Fine,” he teased. You fought the smile that threatened to tug on your lips.
Patrol ended without any incidents to report and when you wrote that down, James peered over your shoulder to catch your circled dot on the ‘i’ of “nothing to report.” A sense of déjà vu dawned on him, but the sheer unconscious refusal to even consider you a possibility kept your secret safe.
When you were in bed that night, you couldn’t help but think about how at ease you had felt for the remainder of the night with James, basking in the familiarity of the person behind the paper.
With every patrol, you two put another step forward in the direction of a friendship of some sorts.
James couldn't deny the fact that with each time, he started to look forward to the next time, almost the same giddy feeling fluttering in his stomach as each time he would unfold his parchment to find new kind words written there.
You and Willow would be friends, James thought, as he looked at you while you were casually explaining Transfiguration to him while you two strolled through the corridors, not without the occasional insult at his 'lack of competence'.
But for now, James enjoyed the privilege of calling you by your first name. A friend of some sorts, he liked to think.
Perhaps he was wrong about Slytherins. Sure, there were some rotten apples, but he supposed there were rotten apples in each house. And you weren't so bad after all.
For the first time in a long time, you enjoyed your days at Hogwarts. Truly enjoyed them. You would send Regulus to the library to get you your favourite books, and would patrol every Thursday with James unless he had Quidditch practice. Then you would patrol with Abrams. You’d come across James, who would nod with a kind smile at you as you two have come to be cautious friends and patrol-partners. You hadn’t really heard anything from your sisters either, which was absolute bliss as well.
But then one day, you were studying Transfiguration by yourself in the library, and you just so happened to need to go to the bathroom. When you returned, you noticed your book was missing and you pulled a sour face before requesting a new one from Professor McGonagall who had looked over her glasses at you.
But that hadn’t been the bad part. No, the bad part was that you had completely forgotten that you had put your enchanted parchment that connected yours to James’ inside that book.
Sirius had victoriously grinned at his funny prank idea. He would change some spells in your book so that you would mess up and become a toad in class. He tossed the book on a table in the common room and a piece of paper slid out.
Sirius had seen the piece of paper before, and his eyes grew as wide as saucers. He jumped up, ran towards his room, and rummaged through James’ nightstand before finding James' parchment under his pillow and wrote something on it. He walked back down the stairs with James’ paper, and he watched in disbelief as a messy ‘hello’ appeared on the paper that your sisters now held. “Merlin,” he breathed out, but your sisters had already stormed out of the room.
You entered the Great Hall and felt everyone staring at you and whispering. Even fellow Slytherin students looked at you in contempt. You gave Regulus a confused look when you walked to the free seat next to him. He quietly slid over the Hogwarts newspaper.
Front page again. ‘Mystery girl uncovered. Not a Willow, but a Hanging Tree.”
You didn’t need to read the rest; you tore your eyes away from the paper. Tears threatened to spill, but you tried to keep a cool front. You turned around to look for James and found him and his friends sitting right behind you.
Whoever thought that putting The Gryffindor table and Slytherin table next to each other should rot in the dungeons, you bitterly thought.
It was your sister who spoke up first. “I can’t believe someone like you would make themselves out to be a victim. ‘Oh no, my sisters bully me,’” she mocked you.
You felt heat rise to your cheeks and got up. She got up as well and you stood eye to eye with each other. “You’re pathetic,” She sneered. “You’re the real mistake here. So go do what you do best- run away.”
You wanted to say something. Anything. But you felt weak and small again. So you turned around and walked away. Whispers continued to fill the room as everyone seemed to have something to say about you.
“How embarrassing.”
“She should be ashamed”
“A Slytherin like her?”
“She definitely wasted James’ time.”
With every comment you heard, you bit harder on the inside of your cheek, and when that last comment dropped, you balled your fists. Why should you be the one to walk away?
You turned around furiously and marched back towards James, who had gotten up to follow you and reached out his hand. You recoiled.
“Y/N, listen-“
“No, you listen to me,” you spat at him. You looked him up and down with a pained look, holding back tears of frustration and while trying to convey as much disgust as you could.
“If you didn’t like what you found out, you could’ve kept it to yourself and thrown the damn paper away. You had no right to publicly try to humiliate me like this. All of your kindness in an attempt to be a good person only shows how wretched you really are when you stop pretending and act cruelly true to yourself.”
James' eyes flashed with hurt and he shook his head, words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to cover his ears; he didn’t want to hear you say this to him. This isn’t what he wanted at all. You were wrong. He didn’t even know it was you until he saw the newspaper this morning.
But you weren’t finished talking yet.
“Has it ever even occurred to any of you,” you looked at the people behind him. You stared your sisters dead in the eye. “That maybe your prejudice and thoughtless assumptions and insults about how awful or evil we Slytherins are, is the very thing that pushes us down that path?”
You turned your attention back to James, who had an unreadable expression on his face now. “Your cruel comments are part of the reason and you, James Potter, are especially cruel.”
Your tone was sharp, face hardened and the entire Great Hall had fallen silent. Not even the professors spoke up. James felt like you had hit him in the face, and you might as well have. He looked down in shame at your words.
You shakily let out your breath and lowered your voice again. This time, you sounded tired. Reality seemed to dawn upon you that everyone in the great hall was listening to you, and you shook your head to yourself, taking a step back. You scoffed softly.
“I suppose you are truly worthy of the Gryffindor name; overly proud and arrogant in the name of bravery with a tendency to prove yourself, disregarding others and their feelings.” Your venomous words cut through James' heart.
James watched you walk away again and everything around him seemed to fade. He was losing you again. How had he not seen this?
Your situation with your sisters. The way you ran away at the Yule ball when he made a crude remark about Slytherins. The sense of déjà vu every time you walked past him, back turned towards him. Your handwriting. The feeling of your hand pressed to his chest just as when you two danced. The way you were great at transfiguration and could have easily transfigured those glass slippers. The way Regulus was the only student to frequently visit your favourite book section in the library. The chills you had sent down his back when you had allowed him to call you by your first name, and in return had called him James.
‘I’m in Slytherin after all. Which obviously equals being an evil blood supremacist.’
‘No one will know it’s you.’
Everyone knows.
Preview if interested
Part three
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
Note
Could you write something where Danny is a teen dad to de aged Ellie? Bonus points if he lives in Crimr Alley and beats the Joker to a pulp for hurting his kid
Danny is trying his best.
It's not easy being a father at age sixteen. It's not easy having to leave his home in fear of what his parents will do to his clone-turned-daughter.
It's not easy watching her every day, wondering if her core will break down further, and instead of just de-aging this time, she'll end up dead. It's not easy worrying about her health in the most crime-infested city with a terrible job and relying on his pitiful check or the funds his sister can sneak to him.
But nothing good in this world is easy, and he wouldn't trade Dani for anything. Yes, she had lost her memories and acted like a real two-year-old, but he adored watching her eyes light up as she relearned the world.
Danny loved her to bits, and even buying her those cheap coloring books and crayons from the dollar store made Dani smile brighter than any star. They may struggle to pay rent and bills or buy food, but Danny can always scrape by, keeping her warm, fed, and house.
He worked at three different dinners, each part-time, since none of them were legally allowed to hire him full-time because of his age. Danny didn't have a single day off, but he had a few hours every day with Dani, which was enough.
While he worked, he asked his next-door neighbor to watch Dani. Now, it may not be the best thing to trust a stranger with his daughter but said neighbor is a ghost and one of the friendly kind.
Danny met her when he first moved in. Apparently, her haunting was one of the reasons the rent was so cheap. She never gave him her real name, but she stayed with Dani all day and had enough ectoplasm to physically touch things. Danny could sense her intentions with his core and knew her motherly adoration for Dani was authentic.
Privately, Danny called her Three since she haunted apartment three, and she sort of looked like she stepped out of the nineteen-thirties, complete with an attractive Transatlantic accent. She was an up-and-coming radio co-host, taking a segment to read stories to housewives before being murdered in her home.
Three never said why or how it happened, but she had been haunting the apparent complex for so long; her lore was well documented among the locals.
They say one of the Waynes had killed her after learning that his wife had fancied Three. But it was never proven and it became another theory that the rich would laugh at every once in a while.
(Three's face always twisted whenever she heard the name Wayne. Her hand would always reach up for a heart-shaped locket she refused to take off even in death.)
Since most people couldn't see ghosts unless exposed to ectoplasm for enough time, the stories of her attacks on anyone trying to get close to her apartment snowballed out of control. Danny thought it was unfair how evil they made her sound. Though it's true she had a strong distaste for men, she had a soft spot for children.
Danny had just been through the wringer; he had double shifts, one stacked right after the other. One of the dinners had let two people go after they had been arrested for moving illegal substances, and Danny had to cover until they found a replacement.
A woman had yelled at him for almost thirty minutes straight about a wait time for her surprise party of fifteen. A man threw up on their counter, and to top it all off, a kid had run into him while he was carrying a tray of food, causing him to spill everything.
Thankfully, the mother was horrified and apologized profoundly, but it had been almost too much for him. So when he was sweeping up broken plates and saw Three franticly flying at him screaming about some clown, well, Danny was doing his best.
And his best was fighting things far stronger than he.
____________________________________________________________
Jim Gordon's early afternoon gets interrupted by the Joker only three minutes after he is supposed to head home for the day. After escaping from Arkham a few months ago, the clown went to the ground, and everyone was nervous about what he was planning.
Jim's team hadn't heard any whispers or had any idea what the Joker was up to, which made everything worse. Usually, when something big and wrong was going to happen, they would catch at least one thing beforehand.
That's why the sudden broadcast of the lunatic had everyone jumping out of their skins.
"Good evening, Gotham. I want to welcome you to tonight's show. It's going to be killer." Joker cackles. He has somehow hacked into almost every screen in the city, his white devilish face appearing on TVs, phones, tablets, and even roadside advertising.
His voice echoes through the city as Jim barks at his employees to trace the signal.
"Recently, I felt it necessary to remind everyone that one is never too young to have a funny bone." The Joker continues, holding up a plush toy to the camera. He waves it a little, pressing the ginning bunny as close as possible so people can see its mouth has been sewed into a sickly wide smile. "I'm sure a few of you have noticed that certain school buses never arrived home."
The blood in his veins goes cold. How many buses? Which school? What kids were they? How old? Why had they not heard of the kids not arriving until now?
There are too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. Jim hates how useless he feels playing this sick man's game.
"But not to worry! You'll see your little ones again! After being guests on my very own game show! Every thirty minutes, one lucky child will get to compete for your amusement, and if they survive, they get an extraordinary prize-!"
His words are cut short by a dark figure flinging itself at the Joker and punching him to the ground. Thank every dark cloud in the sky that the Bat was on the case.
"Basty! Have you come to play- wait. You aren't Batsy." Joker's delighted tone melts into anger as the figure straightens to a young teenage boy.
"You have my daughter. Give her back." The teen tells the clown, voice flat and cold. "Three said your goons took her from her balcony."
"My boys take a lot of people." Joker laughs hoping up a flower. With a press of his finger, the teenager is covered in Joker Vemon. Jim's heart falls as the boy stumbles back, rubbing at his eyes. Joker laughs harder until the kid picks up a chair and slams it onto his head.
There wasn't even a chuckle from the boy. Huh.
"You have my daughter. Give. Her. Back."
"Or what?" The Joker taunts, snapping his fingers. There are sounds of people moving, likely the goons. "Kill him."
The boy doesn't seem to react to the men rushing at him. Someone knocks the camera stand over, and the view of the fight is taken away as it rolls on the ground. Thankfully, it ends up pointed at a wall, where they watch the shadows of the teenager and the Joker's goons fight.
It's hard to tell who's winning, with all the shadows blending together whenever they get close, but the fact that he hasn't heard the kid drop yet means he's holding his own. Jim's eyes narrow at the wallpaper, trying to figure out why it looks so familiar.
It hits him just as a little girl phases through the wall. Yes, phases, as if walking through it like a ghost. This would make sense since -
"That's Nightowl Apparemtents!" Ricky, the new cop from Crime Alley, cries, echoing Jim's thoughts.
"It's what?" Asks Sara
"Nightowl apparements. It's the oldest place in Crime Alley and one of the most haunted. They said a lover of a Wayne was killed there. She kills anyone who tries to rent the place. They do ghost tours occasionally, but no one dares to her hallway. That wallpaper is famous because it's the only one in Gotham with the original founding families' symbols." Ricky explains, watching the little girl tilt her head and then start to flout. Everyone shivers as a second figure bleeds out of the wall behind her.
This one is much more blurry, but the faith outline of a beautiful woman covered in blood hovers behind the girl staring at the fight. She's dressed in clothes that Jim is sure was decades ago, and unlike the little girl, she makes him feel very unsafe.
The ghost of Apparement three. Barbara had gone through a paranormal phase when she was fifteen and dragged Jim to all the haunted places in Gotham. Nowhere had made him feel as uneased as Gotham's cemetery- the most haunted place- but those apartments were a close second.
The ghost spots the camera, sneering at it and Jim actually jumps back.
"Oh, gods!" Ricky shouts, turning his head away. "I'm so sorry for looking into your eyes without permission!"
"It's not a telephone! It can't hear you, Ricky!"
"That's not the point, Sara!"
"Daddy!" the little girl cries, holding up her finger. "I got an ow-ow."
At once, the sounds of combat stopped, and then the screams began. It's nothing like Jim has ever heard. He's been on the force long enough to know what a human in pain sounds like, and those sounds—well, he prays that the Joker had decided to bring in animals.
If it makes him sick to his stomach he is worried about the regular people watching.
The little girl doesn't look away, tilting her head to the side like a curious child of two would and still holding her tiny up. After a moment, Jim realizes the screaming has stopped. There is silence before Joker falls beside the girl, beaten beyond recognition.
If it weren't for his purple sit, Jim would have thought him a goon.
The little girl doesn't blink an eye as the teenager rushes to her, kicking the Joker.
"Let me the ow-ow." The teenager demands, taking her hand in his. There is a moment of tense silence as the woman's ghost louts around him with a sneer. "A papercut! You gave my daughter a papercut!"
The ghost woman screeches, rage in every part of her cry. Jim feels his heart beating out of his chest, frozen in absolute terror as she reaches down for the Joker and drags him through the floor.
The man's screams are heard even through the muffled flooring.
"Holy shit," Sara breathes, voice trembling.
"This is why no one with a brain messes with Nightowl's ghost," Ricky hisses, rubbing at his cross. "How that kid go it to attack the Joker and not him and his daughter-"
The teenager gathers the toddler into his arms, his image fading with a hiss.
"-That was a ghost. The teenager that beat the Joker to near death was a ghost." Ricky swallows. "I am never stepping foot down that street again."
Somewhere in Gotham, a woman is sweating bullets after the feed is cut by Batman, who arrives with the rest of the Bats minutes afterward.
"Say, Mom, wasn't that the boy you were yelling at today in Teddy's Diner for Uncle Ron's birthday."
The woman's eyes swing back to the TV, where the waiter's face is frozen on the screen, his green glowing eyes almost staring into her soul. "Yes.....yes it was."
"Oh crud. I think we're cursed now, Mom. Way to go."
1K notes · View notes
klausysworld · 6 months
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Hey,I like your klaus mikaelson stories very much. Can you do one in which klaus and reader(yn) were in an arrange marriage and they cant stand each other?And they slowly fall in love and at the end he gets her pregnant? As in arranged marriage I mean,something like the marriage between hayley and Jackson. And if you can please add smut,fluff,jealousy and daddy kink. Thank you
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An Alliance or a Marriage?
Y/n could not believe that she was doing this.
Y/n was Jacksons sister, they always had each others backs and protected the other. So when Hayley came into Jacksons life, had him falling in love while she had feelings for Elijah Mikaelson, Y/n knew they couldn't get married. The only reason they were actually getting married was to unite the werewolf clans and to share Hayley's hybrid abilities as part of the marriage ritual.
But it would come at the cost of Jackson's happiness and most likely his life. Y/n was not stupid. She knew the price of loving a Mikaelson and it was one that Jackson could not afford and one that Y/n would not let him pay.
So without thinking, she made a fast decision.
"What if Ione of the wolves married Klaus? That way Hayley gets to be with Elijah and Klaus doesn't have to be so wary of Jackson around Hope or whatever his worry is? Wouldn't it just be easier?" She questioned and she felt everyone's gaze turn to her, most genuinely considering the possibility while Klaus looked both pissed and amused.
"I wouldn't trust anyone with Hope and under no circumstances will I be marrying anyone." He answered before storming out without another word. Jackson was second to protest then some of the other wolves.
They all went back to the bayou and tried to forget about the day.
What the wolves were unaware of were the arguments in the Mikaelson compound. Mostly between Rebekah and Niklaus. Rebekah was telling Klaus that for once, he should think of Elijah's happiness instead of only being selfish yet again. She continued to go on about how it was for Hope, how he should be the one sacrificing for Hope, not Hayley as she had already given up so much. The fight went on for hours but by morning it was settled. Niklaus would marry a wolf of his choosing.
Y/n was his choice. She was quiet but smart. Small but strong. Which meant she would be the best of his options. He knew part of her feared him, unlike some of the wolves there. She may challenge him a little but she wasn't stupid enough to truly go against him. This was proven when she silently accepted his decision.
Jackson was entirely against the entire thing. His sister was getting married to the original hybrid, moving into the beasts den and becoming apart of his twisted family. But he too kept quiet after Y/n told him it was what needed to be done. It was the only chance for everyone to walk out somewhat alive.
That was why she was walking down the aisle, Jackson unwillingly giving her away to Klaus Mikaelson before Mary began the ceremony. As the words "you may kiss your bride" left her lips, their fates were sealed. Klaus stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his brides soft lips and watched as her and every other wolf in the rooms eyes lit up with golden flames, united as one.
The compound remained busy for the rest of the day, Klaus and Y/n stayed in opposite sides of the room at all times. Elijah urged his brother to at least be kind, Klaus however ignored any and all advice and instead drank the night away. Marriage was not in the cards for him. It was not what he wanted and he now knew that he was tied to this girl, a girl he harboured no feelings toward and a girl who only looked at him with distaste, for at least one lifetime. He knew the likelihood of them every liking each other was slim and he also knew that there were lots of rules in this werewolf marriage that he would have to follow in order to have the wolves protecting Hope. So he got off his face drunk, to the point where he couldn't get himself up the stairs at the end of the night.
It wasn't the best way for Y/n to find him on their first night 'together'. When she gave him that look of uncertainty and upset when she found him at the bottom of the stairs slurring his words, he just rolled his eyes and told her to piss off. But she didn't. Instead she fought against his sloppy attempts of pushing her away and instead managed to get him up the stairs and to bed. He fell asleep in seconds leaving Y/n distressed and alone on her wedding night. Instead of sleeping she went back downstairs and cleaned up the mess left over from the wedding.
Klaus had come down in the morning to find her scrubbing the corner of the room. He glanced around and noticed everywhere was spotless, his eyes travelled to the stairs and he was hit with the memory of leaning against her as she struggled to carry him up each one. Guilt bubbled in the pit of his stomach but he ignored it and made his way into the room and past her.
Y/n just stared at the nonexistent spot on the ground and tiredly rubbed the sponge against it.
Rebekah came downstairs after a little while and frowned when she saw Y/n, exhausted and leaning against the wall while her arm moved almost robotically to scratch away at the floor.
“Y/n? Darling we have maids for this” she whispered softly, supporting her new sister-in-law and guiding her to stand up and walk toward the stairs.
“I was just helping” Y/n mumbled, “wine was spilt” she stated as she glanced over to the area she thought was stained with alcohol but when Rebekah glanced it was completely clean. She lead Y/n toward Klaus’s room but paused when she noticed the mess it was in and began to realise why Y/n hadn’t been to sleep. With a soft sigh she brought the she-wolf to her bedroom and helped Y/n out of her wedding dress.
“I suppose this isn’t the way you had hoped to get out of your dress” she joked gently but Y/n didn’t look amused.
“I’d rather you than your brother” she murmured and Rebekah gave a small laugh.
“One day you won’t think that” she whispered as she grabbed some of her pyjamas and passed them to Y/n. “He’ll become kinder after some time, it’ll be a difficult ride but you’ll get there. Besides he must already like you to have chosen you out of all the wolves” she convinced but Y/n just scoffed as she crawled into Rebekah’s bed and let her head hit the pillow
“Lucky me.” She quipped and Bekah hummed.
“I’ll get him to let you rest for today” she told her as she exited the room and let the girl sleep in her room for the day.
Klaus claimed not to care what Y/n did with her time, where she went or who she was with but Rebekah reminded him that she was his wife. Whether he was happy about or not.
“You either need to set her up a nice room for her to have for herself or you need to actually be her husband and have her feel comfortable enough to share one with you. My god Niklaus, it’s not like there’s anything wrong with her. It won’t give you a disease if you smile at the poor girl.” She scowled and Klaus glared but kept his trap shut.
Klaus knew Y/n was beautiful. She was delicate little thing, from what he had seen she could be very sensitive for a werewolf at times. But he knew she had a certain fire in her. He wondered what he would have to do to light that flame and have her snap at him. He wondered if her fear would override that anger.
It was much later in the day when he went to check on his new wife. Part of him worried she had ran away but he knew that she would stay, for the survival of her pack.
He found her curled up in his sisters pyjamas and bed. Reluctantly he picked her up and brought her to his room, tucking her into his bed and leaving her to rest there instead. After all, his bed was where she belonged now.
When evening came around, he made his way back to his room. As soon as he started getting ready for bed, Y/n forced herself up despite her still clearly needing sleep. He sighed as she left the room, ignoring his presence and going downstairs for the rest of the night.
Some days she would stay downstairs and behave almost zombie like as she tried to keep her mind running and eyes open, other times she just went to sleep while she knew Klaus was busy.
It annoyed him to no end but at the same time he was relieved that he never had to really see or speak to her. Still, whether either of them liked it, she was his wife and the fact that she wouldn’t stand in the same room as him was not something he appreciated.
So he did what he assumed to be best.
Forced her to spend time with him.
Often it would be in a painful silence as he stared her down and made sure she wouldn’t get up and leave. However after some time, she would have little conversations with him so that he would be sated and leave her alone for a little while later.
When in front of the other wolves, Klaus would become a different person. He would make sure to kiss Y/n’s cheek or head, hold her waist or hand. One because he had to make it seem as though they were some what happy so that the wolves would not turn on him and two because he liked to piss Jackson off. He took amusement in how the wolf would growl and scrunch his face up in distaste.
Y/n knew what Klaus was doing but didn’t see the point in arguing or getting all stressed about it, besides it only happened every now and then so it didn’t matter much.
However when Klaus began accidentally doing the little gestures when others weren’t around, as though it were his second nature, Y/n felt confused. She didn’t understand his motifs or what he wanted from her.
Rebekah told Y/n that he didn’t want anything, that he was just warming to her but Y/n was still skeptical. Even when Rebekah came into her room grinning and held out a piece of paper with a beautifully sketched version of Y/n’s face.
“He must’ve been bored out of his mind” Y/n mumbled dismissively as she handed the drawing back to Rebekah who rolled her eyes.
“He likes you” she argued and Y/n scoffed.
“He does not. He just wants me to do whatever he says”she countered and the mikaelson sister sighed
“He isn’t all bad, you know?” Bekah questioned
“Sure he isn’t. He’s quite lovely towards his daughter” she agreed and Rebekah hummed as she watched Y/n pretend to have no clue about Niklaus’s thoughts or feelings.
Klaus wouldn’t admit that he had become accustomed to Y/n’s presence and began to want it more often. He wasn’t too sure why but he had taken a fancying to her, he just had.
And he most certainly didn’t like when other people took a fancying to her as well. Not at all.
Now he knew that she would never peruse anything with anyone else, that would break the magical marriage binding the wolves together but it didn’t mean he didn’t get angry. Especially when another wolf could make her smile or blush better than he could. His teeth would bring, jaw would clench and his eyes would flicker gold.
It fuelled something ugly and twisted inside him.
Jealousy.
“Jealousy is a weak man’s disease” Niklaus had told Elijah many times over the centuries. “A man who knows his worth and his strength never had to fear that his girl would stray. Jealously means they are nothing. I am not nothing, I never will be.”
And yet, as soon as Y/n’s attention was given to an attractive werewolf, Klaus would feel as though he was nothing. He would feel that weakness that he loathed so deeply.
The only way to diminish that jealousy was to eliminate the threat. To pick away at the weakness piece by piece until only strength was left.
But that didn’t go well.
When Klaus killed a werewolf, Y/n went ballistic. It was the first time she had actually yelled at him, expressed her anger and threatened his position.
“It’s like you’re actually a fool! You hurt my pack and they will not protect you nor your child, this marriage will be pointless and finished-“ she ranted and his anger bubbled.
“This marriage will not end just because our pack says so” he growled and she glared at him, her pointer finger jabbed at his chest aggressively and it took everything within him not to snap it in half.
“It is hardly a marriage and it had only happened for the benefit of my pack and for your daughter. It is you that has a hundred enemies banging down the door at night and it will be you that suffers if you do not have the protection that I offer you.” She snapped and he sneered in her face. He wanted to kill her in that moment however at the same time, for whatever reason, he had never been more attracted to her. His wolf wanted to force her into submission. To spank and pound her until she admitted that she was his and wouldn’t ever threaten to leave him again. But he was also beyond furious at the possibility of his daughter’s life being on the line and so stormed past her before he would harm her.
He ignored her mutterings of how pathetic he was and locked himself in his arm room which was utterly destroyed by the end of the hour due to his never ending rage.
The next morning he had expected a pack of wolves to be stood at his door, angry and threatening. However he found them all sat at their long table, Y/n was at the head informing them that they had ‘found’ the pack member already dead and had brought him here so that they may take care of his body accordingly.
She lied for Klaus.
She let her family believe that it was someone else who had killed the wolf. When they accused Klaus, she snapped back at them that he was with her all day and had helped her take care of the body.
Y/n gave Klaus a look that dared him to contradict her words but he didn’t utter a word. He just stood at her side and placed a hand on her shoulder as he listened to the others discuss the traditional funeral that the wolf deserved.
Once they left, Y/n walked straight past Klaus and to her bedroom. She was unwilling to speak with her for the next few days. The only time she would was regarding Hope.
The small toddler had taken a strong liking to Y/n and often asked for her. Nobody could not love Hope once they spent some time with her so Y/n was always happy to have the baby in her arms.
Klaus too, very much enjoyed the sight of his wife holding his child. His mind began to spin together images of Y/n pregnant with his child. His wolf craved the thought. He could imagine how beautifully round her stomach would be and how he would press his hands to the bump while nuzzling into her hair.
And then he would think of how he would get her pregnant. She would be so gorgeous sprawled out in his bed.
Since their wedding day she had been in her own room but now Klaus desperately wanted her in his.
He wanted to be inside her. To claim her. To love her.
Never did he think he would love her.
Then again, never did he think he would be getting married or having a baby.
But all of those things had happened and he wouldn’t take them back. Perhaps he might’ve gone about them a little differently but he would have still wanted them to happen.
He told her that once.
One night when they were having dinner.
Somehow he had managed to convince her to share a meal with him and him alone. She couldn’t be bothered to fight over it so complied.
Y/n hadn’t expected him to actually make such an effort. Or to have been so lovely the entire evening. It was clear he wanted to impress her and to engage her, and he had but she didn’t understand why.
Until he told her of how he wouldn’t have changed things,not fully. He had admitted to her that he was somewhat happy with the fact that they were married. He didn’t say he loved her, he knew that would through her off but he made it obvious that he liked her much more than he had initially expressed.
She wasn’t so sure how to respond to him.
Y/n had thought that he was only nicer to her lately because he too was avoiding arguments but she hadn’t truly believed it was because he was being genuine.
Klaus noticed the frown on her face and looked down at his plate. “It’s a little silly I suppose” he muttered to himself, he couldn’t help the deflated feeling that travelled through him as he placed his fork down. “Neither of us wanted this marriage” he mumbled while standing up from his seat making his chair scrape against the floor with a painful sound.
Y/n felt the guilt sink in and she quickly got up also and rounded the table as he started to walk away. “Klaus,” she called softly, reaching out for his hand.
His eyes fluttered when she held onto his hand, he hadn’t felt the softness of her touch since their first and only kiss of their relationship from their wedding day.
He glanced to her and reluctantly shrugged her off. “No it doesn’t matter, I was being a fool” he argued and kept walking.
Y/n sighed to herself and rubbed her hands down her face in frustration.
The next morning Klaus ignored her, barely looked at her even.
It was later that day that she finally caught his attention and pulled him off into another room.
“Klaus” she murmured in annoyance when he went to open the door she had just pushed shut. “You’re behaving like a child” she tutted and he growled. “Would you just stop?” She told him and he glared at her.
“What do you want?” He asked, not bothering to soften his tone which made her frown again.
“I want you to talk to me” she whispered and he narrowed his eyes.
“You never want to talk to me.” he snapped, “you only want to because I made a stupid mistake”
“It wasn’t a mistake” she told him, her tone much gentler than his. “I just wasn’t expecting it”
“Why? Because it’s so shocking that I could possibly feel something-“
“God, Klaus no. You know I dont think you’re a heartless monster-“
“That strongly contradicts things you’ve said in the past-“ he argued and she made a sound of frustration.
“Well I’ve changed my mind” she told him and his jaw tightened. “Klaus I’m serious. I know you now, I’ve seen you”
“Then what is it about me that you cannot love?” He whispered and her eyes softened further. They stared at each other until Y/n stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. Her arms went around his midsection and his went over her shoulders.
“It isn’t that I can’t” she mumbled and he closed his eyes
“You just don’t want to” he whispered but she still shook her head.
“I just don’t know how to” she corrected and he hummed quietly.
“But I love you” he uttered and she nodded.
“I know that now” she agreed “and I’ll make sure that I take that into consideration but Klaus, you can’t just expect that I’ll suddenly be all over you and madly in love” she told him and he frowned.
“Why not?” He asked and she scoffed softly. For centuries woman had been falling at his feet but the one woman that he married wouldn’t?
“Because the world doesn’t revolve around you?” She whispered, a little laugh in her voice that made him a little annoyed at first but when he saw her face he couldn’t help but laugh a little bit with her. Eventually he sighed and looked down with a small smile and a nod.
“I’ll earn your affections” he promised, kissing her forehead before exiting the room.
And from that day, he tried his very best to do just that.
Though of course they still had their arguments and disagreements, now he would be the first to apologise or to admit his wrong doings.
And slowly, like he had hoped, Y/n began to love him too.
Rebekah, Elijah, Hayley, Jackson and all the other wolves began to notice the much softer side to them both when they touched to spoke to each together. Some were happier than others about the change in dynamics between the two.
Jackson for one, was very put off when Klaus kissed his sister in front of everyone. What was worse was that she kissed him back and asked him to grab her a drink. They behaved like a real married couple. The wolves didn’t like it.
Some of them went as far to verbalise their opinions but Klaus’s siblings were quick to shut them up before they could upset Y/n. They reminded them that it was in the best interests of everyone that the two got along rather than Y/n living a miserable life just for the benefit of the pack. Eventually the majority agreed and kept quiet.
Jackson was most concerned.
Especially when he came round to visit and found Y/n sprawled across Klaus’s lap while reading a book..
“Y/n” he called, his gaze hard as he watched her lift her head and smile before getting up and going out for lunch with her brother. He expressed his worries and she assured him that Klaus was much better now and that she felt that she could love him. Jackson knew that her using the word ‘could’ was solely for his benefit. She wanted to say that she did love him.
With a small sigh he nodded and told her to just be happy and thanked her once more for everything she had done for him and their family.
When Y/n came home Klaus had made her a bubble bath for her to relax in. She laid in the water for a while before getting changed into comfy clothes and wondering downstairs. Klaus was in the kitchen grating Parmesan cheese over two dishes of pasta.
She smiled and sat at the table quietly, smiling at him when he placed the bowl infront of her before sitting down opposite with his own dish.
Klaus twisted his fork in the spaghetti and asked how her day with Jackson was. They chatted while they ate before loading the dishwasher and heading upstairs.
Y/n had been sleeping in his room lately. Mostly because they would accidentally fall asleep beside each-other when watching a film before bed but then Klaus asked if she would feel comfortable sharing a room with him and she agreed.
So this time they naturally just went to Klaus’s room or rather their room.
His eyes watched as she disappeared into the bathroom, a soft hum left her and her hips swayed gently. The tap started running which meant she was brushing her teeth and he followed her in and grabbed his own toothbrush to do the same. He glanced at her in the mirror as she focused on her mouth. He cleared his throat and finished cleaning up before kissing her head and going into their room to get changed into his sleep pants which he had only been wearing because he wasn’t sure if she would be comfortable with him in only briefs.
Klaus was unaware of how Y/n would imagine his naked body against hers, pressing and sliding against hers while they panted beneath the sheets of their bed.
It was why she started wearing tinier pyjamas to bed, in hopes it would entice him that extra bit.
The little shorts would allow him a glimpse of her ass, as though it was teasing him. And the little matching vest top would wrap around her upper body perfectly.
Klaus sat down on the bed and watched as she walked back in. His eyes glanced to wear her taut nipples would press against the Cotten of her clothes down to her long bare legs that he desperately wanted to bury between.
She let out a yawn as she slid into bed beside him and beneath the covers. He pulled her closer so that their bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces and sighed quietly as though having her touch soothed something inside of him.
“Thanks for tonight” she whispered as she leaned up and kissed his lips before laying her head down on her pillow. Klaus hummed and laid down with her.
“Thank you for having dinner with me again” he smiled and she returned it, her hand moved to caress his gently and he held onto hers tenderly.
“You don’t have to thank me for that, I love having dinner with you” she told him and his eyes flickered between hers as he took in her words because they both knew what she was actually saying.
“You do?” He whispered and she nodded.
“I do.”
Klaus kissed her again, for a few seconds longer this time. Just as he pulled his lips away from hers, she pushed them back together with a little more force. He groaned softly, his hand sliding down her back and over the curve of her ass to grip the back of her thigh and lift her leg up so her knee slide over his hip. His hand slid up under her shorts to feel the soft warmth of her pussy against his fingers.
Y/n moaned quietly against his mouth. Both her hands caressed his neck gently before one moved lower. Klaus grunted softly and pulled away from their kiss as he felt her hand cup his erection through his pants.
Their eyes locked as both their hands moved slowly, teasingly.
A small whimper left Y/n as Klaus’s fingers rubbed over her clit. She brought her hand under the waistband of his pants and wrapped her fingers around his cock. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip as she felt the length and thickness of him. Klaus’s mouth fell open slightly as he breathed shallowly.
Her hand pumped his cock slowly as he slipped a finger inside her. His thumb glided over her sensitive little bud, his eyes urging her to please move her hand faster. She complied and stroked him quicker, squeezing as she went.
His hips thrust against her hand while two fingers curled inside her to find her spot.
The whole room became hot and dark as the night deepened and the blankets were pulled over their heads to make them feel closer. Their breathing mixed together and little moans left them both as their hands moved faster.
Their mouths moved together sloppily as moans vibrated from both of them and their body moved in time to meet the other’s hand.
Y/n went first, her neck arched making Klaus move his lips down to suck along her throat while his hips thrust and his fingers fucked her fast. He panted as her cry of pleasure left her and he felt her pussy clamp down and release. It only took a few more squeezes of her hand around his cock for him to cum across her stomach.
They both lay, breathing heavily and looking at eachother. Y/n’s eyes squinted to see him in the dark, his hands were moving her onto her back so he could slot on top of her. Her thighs were nudged open and a gasp left her as the head of his cock started to push into her.
Klaus leaned down and kissed her again, deepening it in seconds so he could taste her while his cock finally felt the soft, wet warmth that he had longed for.
A strained cry of relief left her and her back arched off the bed as he filled her completely. His hands slid up her body and scrunched her shirt up above her breasts so that he could lean down and wrap his lips round one of her nipples.
“Klaus” she whimpered as his hips thrust slowly and his tongue flicked teasingly. He moaned softly around the bud before sucking it between his teeth. He released it with a pop before kissing up along her chest and throat until he took her lips to his. She kissed him back hungrily, accepting his tongue into her mouth without any resistance as his hips rolled faster into her.
He only pulled away from her lips when her pussy went unbearably tight on his cock, he let out a loud groan as he fucked into her as quickly as he could.
The harsh slap of his skin meeting hers repeated through the room alongside her moans for more. Klaus could feel himself getting closer to cumming and he was determined to fill her up. He wanted her to carry his next child.
His tongue traced the shell of her ear as she cried out and his fingers reached between her legs to rub at her clit until she was crying to cum.
“Shh sweetheart” he purred to her, “let me fill you” he whispered and the realisation of what he meant dawned on her.
“Klaus” she whimpered as she felt his cock release inside her. His hips slowed but didn’t stop as his cock softened momentarily before hardening again inside of her still.
He grunted softly as he glanced down at her, his fingers gently rolled over her clit while watching his cock slide in and out of her. He could see his cum spilling out of her and he desperately tried to fuck it back inside.
“I want you to be full of my child” he muttered to her and she moaned softly, her hand lifted to cup his cheek to draw his attention to her eyes.
"I love you" she whispered and he groaned quietly as he kissed her lips just briefly so she could speak again, "and I'll love our children" she told him making his hips buck roughly into her. She moaned in response and wrapped her arms around his neck while resting her head against his. "You''ll be such a good daddy to them" she murmured and a low growl rumbled through his chest as he took the praise and thrived off of it.
Y/n felt his pace quicken and her pleasure heighten making her kiss across his cheek to his ear slowly, "Please daddy?" she purred while her cunt clenched repeatedly and her lower stomach twisted into a series of knots. "Please give me your babies" she begged and he couldn't stop from snapping. His mind and body went haywire making her scream his name. Her body was practically vibrating as her body met his for the hundredth time and her head went back allowing his mouth to reattach onto her neck.
Her eyes rolled back when his teeth sunk into her throat.
Bliss rolled through both of them until their bodies were a heated, sweaty mess amongst the sheets.
His hand held the back of her head holding her face into his chest as they panted heavily. Her eyes closed as she felt him stroke her hair soothingly while he slid his cock out of her and caressed her swollen clit ever so gently with his thumb.
Y/n whimpered weakly and he smiled as he glanced down to watch her brows furrow together while her hips slowly rode the pad of his finger until one last cry left her alongside another orgasm.
Once he had ensured she was finished, he cleaned them both up and then their bed before dropping her down onto the fresh bedding and taking warmth in her giggle when she reached out and pulled him to lay beside her.
Klaus kept her snuggled up to him all night and into the next morning before reluctantly getting up and going downstairs to join the rest of the family.
He knew that everything was finally working out.
2K notes · View notes
mermaidfanficlibrary · 2 months
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Punch To Love || Yan Delinquent x GN Reader
Characters: Bone
Summary: School Delinquent wants your attention
Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness, violence
a/n: He's a softy. This is Jesse's rival.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
Yan Delinquent who doesn't really go to class. Only goes when he needs to keep himself from getting expelled. He doesn't want to worry his mom. Or his sister. He manages to keep his grades up enough too.
Yan Delinquent who meets you early on in the semester when a group project was assigned. He honestly wouldn't have thought you would pick him to be your partner, especially when the pink weirdo is stuck to your side.
Yan Delinquent who ends up putting in more effort than he thought he would have when with you. He's even more shocked when you take interest in him after, wanting to stay and get to know him. He's usually alone, so this is a complete switch to what he's used too.
Yan Delinquent who after a couple of weeks when the project finishes, can't seem to forget you. You were different. He liked that a lot. Whenever he smoked on campus, he imagined what it would be like to kiss you right after. Oh god he's screwed.
Yan Delinquent who denies he has the biggest crush ever on you. Sure he stalks you from a distance. Sure he wishes he could punch the pink weirdo. Sure he fights behind your back when someone insults you. But that's just because he's repaying your kindness. Nothing more.
Yan Delinquent who takes a lot of time to accept the fact that he's completely whipped for you. It only takes one of his buddies to point out how puppylike he is when you're around. It's embarrassing at first, but he's so happy.
Yan Delinquent who finds himself coming to the classes you share more often. He often finds himself also seeking out your help to study and on topics he doesn't understand. Man he relishes the disappointed look the pink weirdo has when you tell him that you had to study with someone else.
Yan Delinquent who loves staying late in the library with you. The smell of his coffee is a lot more calming than his cigarettes, but he can't help the cravings. He's trying so hard to fight them back to look more studious in front of you.
Yan Delinquent who gets harassed by the pink weirdo you call your best friend the day after. The pink haired boy is taking pictures of him and saying he could never be good enough. Well that may be true, but he would treat you so much better than your pink loving best friend.
Yan Delinquent who watches your best friend showcase the pictures he took of the delinquent smoking, cutting class, and beating up a not so defenseless student. In awe, he watches you deny your best friend's claims and actually show your trust in the delinquent. He needs you to marry him right now.
Yan Delinquent who hangs out with you a lot more now. He invites you to ditch class with him and leave campus with him. He even feels more comfortable to smoke around you. You don't judge, and it makes him so fuzzy, though if you express your distaste for the smell then he'll try to avoid doing so in front of you.
Yan Delinquent who gets interrogated by his mom about you. He's so embarrassed when he has to explain why he's so smiley now and that he's been more motivated when around you. She's so happy that he finally has a good influence in his life though. His litter sister is even more curious.
Yan Delinquent who runs into you outside of school when he takes his sister to the park. He gets all blushy and lets his sister run around the jungle gym when he talks to you. He's so different outside of school. He's so much softer and less broody.
Yan Delinquent who has to stop his little sister from embarrassing him when she sees you. She asks you so many questions and if you're the person that he was telling his mom about. You were flattered, and she became so attached to you.
Yan Delinquent who is so good at hiding the fact that he gets into fights for you. Sure he gets a few cuts and bruises, but it's so easy to lie. Some bitch was encouraging on his area and he was defending himself. Your naivety is his best friend at this point.
Yan Delinquent who comes to you when he does get injured. Your hands are so delicate when handling him, he can't help but blush when your fingers feel like feathers against his skin. It alleviates all pain he feels. Even when it's just a small paper cut, and you're putting on a silly cartoon band-aid on it.
Yan Delinquent who becomes surprisingly whiny when you won't treat his wounds. What do you mean he doesn't need a band-aid and your gentle touch when bumps something against a door? Maybe you should kiss it better and he'll stop whining.
Yan Delinquent who threatens freely. He will glare and snarl at anyone who tries to get close to you. The only one bold enough to never back down is that pink haired weirdo. He can't stand him! Though he can't express his distaste for your best friend.
Yan Delinquent who introduces you to his mom after she pesters him enough. He brings you over to dinner and has to sit through so many embarrassing questions and anecdotes. He did not need you to know that he cried when he was 5 because Santa didn't bring him what he wanted for Christmas.
Yan Delinquent who is very clearly becoming your guard dog. Scary boyfriend privileges. He can't help but want to keep you safe. You're a pure rarity in his world, and he'll be damned if he loses it. Especially to that pink haired weirdo who is trying so hard to keep you two apart.
Yan Delinquent who finally throws hands with the pink weirdo. Both take and deliver punches like no tomorrow until you come to break up the fight. Now, they're both sitting in the nurse's office glaring at each other with you taking care of both of them. It would have been a dream if that cute prick wasn't here ruining his day.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
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solbaby7 · 9 months
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Wanting You, Wanting Me
pairing: azriel x reader
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based off an anonymous request- got carried away but I tried to stay within the guidelines; this was actually a really cute concept
warnings: angst at first but it gets fluffy towards the end, swearing, jealousy, mutual pining, mentions of nightmares, sleep deprivation, probably some typos
summary: Silent yearning only remains silent for so long when you suspect your crush likes your best friend instead
--
Elaine was like flowers budding in the Spring; new and fresh, full of promise and beauty. She was kind and caring, compassionate and soft-spoken, dainty and slender—all the pretty things that males loved in women.
Or maybe it was just her.
Because you were fairly new and fresh too; just barely in your twenties and full on the idea of life and love and everything in between. Maybe you weren’t as kind, not as nice or welcoming; you didn’t always have the right words and in lou of sounding stupid or making a fool of yourself, you stayed quiet.
Watching; observing, learning the family around you as you navigated your place in it. Everyone already had their role; playing their parts as if they’d been trained their whole lives for it and even Feyre and her sisters had fallen into a steady rhythm after the Cauldron. But with all the new additions, couples pairing up and friendships pre-established a hundred years before you were even a thought—your place there seemed less clear.
Especially since Azriel had started paying such special attention to Elaine and her annoyingly beautiful garden and the plants that seemed to thrive tenfold at the mere sight of her.
You didn't mind at first; the three of you falling into a steady rhythm of hanging out together, taking walks and sharing stories but somewhere along the lines he stopped looking at you when he'd laugh. Envy builds for a woman too kind to deserve it and it makes you feel even worse--masking your distaste with soft smiles that you hoped looked as welcoming as hers.
You can’t even help the turn your thoughts take but no matter how much envy fills you; there’s not one con that presents itself when regarding her.
It becomes subconscious, the way you mimic her; fixing your posture, hands reaching to push back strands of hair and smoothen out the fabric that the soft curve of your stomach. Silently nitpicking parts of you that you’d never considered wrong before but that had to be when everything Elaine had got was so right.
He walks in like you’ve summoned him, steps silent and sure. “You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” You mutter a beat too late, only realizing he was regarding you when you’d finally glanced up over the book in your hands.
You’re acutely aware of his every move, the radiating warmth of his body contrasted by the cool kiss of his shadows sifting through your hair when he leans over the back of the couch. The smell of his soap reaches your nose when he leans in, hazel eyes skimming over the pages you're reading and you thank the good Mother above that you’d gotten past the naughty scene three pages ago; where the good guy who pretends to be bad slides his fingers between the maidens thighs, urging her to be silent as he worked her over through her clothes while being surrounded by a whole camp full of males and a looming threat lingering somewhere in the trees. “Bad dreams again?”
You pray he doesn’t catch the slight uptick of your heart rate, the closeness forcing your body to react without permission and it takes great effort not to tear the delicate pages under the pressure of your fingers alone. “Something like that,” You grit out, reminded of the nightmares that assaulted your slumber; the sight of Elaine and Azriel—kissing. Enough to rip you awake and force you to empty all of your stomach contents; you’d just barely made it to the bathing chambers, hairs sticking to your cheeks and nightgown damp with sweat as you leaned into the toilet.
You still hadn’t been able to keep anything down; stomach too unsettled and brain spiraling enough to distract away any signs of hunger.
“She’s been getting them all week,” Elaine softly adds, fingers busy with her knitting needles and yarn; a new blanket for you to add to the giant collection neatly folded your closet. “—won’t drink the tea I made for it though.”
“Because the tea makes them worse and then I wake up from them with my body still paralyzed,” You’re quick to say, familiar with your best friends tactics in divulging important information to the shadowsinger to ensure you actually did something about it—that you took care of yourself. “I’ll happily keep just the bad dreams.”
Azriel's not even looking at you anymore though, already rounding the couch to sit beside Elaine, ball of yarn rolling between them and you can’t help but stare. “Tell me more about this tea?”
“I make it from the plants in the garden,” She points at the window behind them, pale green yarn still wrapped around her finger. “Camomile and ginseng and usually it helps but she just reacts to it differently.”
Azriel hums and you hate the way the words make you feel; like there was another thing setting you apart from the others and this perfect life that didn’t seem capable enough to hold room for all of your imperfections. You don’t wait to hear anymore, steps light and hands quick to stick your bookmark in place and collect your tea cup before you’re gone and down the hall; tears burning in your waterline.
Because, you were sure that if you had to sit there and watch them a second longer you were going to scream.
Scream at Elaine for being so sweet and gentle; so knowledgeable and helpful and certain that it was you that was the issue and not her stupid herbs grown in her stupid garden. You wanted to scream at Azriel until you were blue in the face, listing off every single thing you've ever done to show that the thing between you was way more than just friends. How he was everything and you know that maybe you weren't perfectly skinny like Elaine was but you'd always found great beauty in things that were different.
You can’t tell if you’re happy or not that no one comes to check on you the whole four hours it takes for you to relax; binging the entirety of a book until you were too focused on someone else's life to focus on your own and only once you'd finished the book in it's entirety were you forced to leave the room in search for the one that followed.
The library is empty when you enter, only a few lights still burned and you’re already murmuring soft words to yourself while you search around for what your looking for, fingers bumping over the slides of books; their engraved titles all unique and beautiful and probably interesting but still not quite right. It takes some time but you’re certain you’ve found it, a few rows higher than you can reach but it’s easy to drag over a chair for assistance. "Come on," You mutter, nose scrunching with strain as the tips of two fingers graze the burgundy spine. You’re prepared to jump and pray the chair doesn’t collapse beneath you when the book simply slides out and floats down to you, cool shadows twirling up the length of your arm as if to stabilize you as you step down. “I didn’t need help,” You grumble without looking at your savior, the weight of the book now in your palm and excitement swirls at the thought of more.
“You never do.”
You don’t mean to be so snappy but the sleep deprivation takes a toll and it was becoming harder to distinguish truth from dream; your brain always stuck on his mouth leaning in for Elaine’s and the anger that ensues is all consuming. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Azriel shrugs, sighing as if he knows how this conversation will end and in no way will he ever come out on top. “I don’t know—just don’t get why you wouldn’t have told me you haven’t been sleeping.”
“Because, Az, what would you have done? Help Elaine make me tea’s? No, thanks.”
Confusion spreads on handsome features, hazel eyes fierce even with his lids lowered. “What does Elaine have to do with any of this? Because she told me?”
The breath you let out is heavy, defeat settling in once you realize the hole you’d been digging yourself and it’s a struggle to heave yourself out and drag the chair back to its original spot but Azriel’s there in seconds. He’s quiet; waiting for an answer as he takes it from your hands. “No,” You concede, all fight leaving when it was a one-sided battle. “She doesn’t have anything to do with it. It’s fine—I’m just tired.”
“Then sleep,” He urges softly. “I’ll stay with you.”
“I can’t.”
You can’t even focus on the words of your page under his stare. You’ve read the first line six times over and you still haven’t fully processed it. The thought of him being nearby as you slept, the thought of his eyes on your body in nothing but a nightgown and your hair free from all its carefully done braids. “Can you tell me what you’ve been dreaming about?”
His brows raise when you suck in a sharp breath, cheeks flinching at the suggestion and you shut the book altogether. “I’d really rather not.”
“What’s so bad you can’t tell me about it?" Azriel's hand covers your own, voice so soft it hurt. "You tell me everything.”
Your heart thumps so hard in your chest you can hear it in your ears, your free fingers fumbling against the other under the table and you can't refrain from the nervous chuckle that pulls free. There's a second where you want to just tell him; to confess your feelings and how much you loved the way he was looking at you but fucking hated how you knew that look wouldn't stay if Elaine walked in. The reminder of her alone makes your body deflate, gaze going far off and Azriel's concern only grows when you stay quiet too long to be normal.
The cool touch of a shadow grazing your cheek pulls you out of it. "I suppose this just isn't worth telling."
It's not the answer he wanted, that much is clear by the frown that tugs on full lips, the wings that tuck in tighter and you want nothing more than to give him everything he'd wanted and more to get his face to stop looking at you like that but before you can say another word, another person enters. "Sorry to interrupt, I was just looking for you.
His eyes instantly go to her, hand pulling away from your own and attitude seeps out when you regard her. "Well, you found me."
Elaine's eyes bounce between you and Azriel as if she could feel the tension in the room that held so thick you could cut it with a knife. Her voice is hesitant when she begins, a steaming pot held in hands covered by thick oven mitts. "I made a new recipe for the tea," You don't even hear the carefully curated list of herbs she rattles off, informing their uses and how well they work together but you can't stop shaking; chest tightening at the way Azriel watches Elaine gracefully flit about the room and you can't stop thinking about how quickly he pulled away his hand. "It's really strong so you can't have too much but the madja said that it would help with the sleeping and the paralysis."
You couldn't of cared less, snatching the kettle from her grasp and in your anger you can’t even hear her gasp, can’t feel the burn of the boiling handle against your palm as you pour a mug so thick it nearly spills over the top. “Thanks, Elaine. Really, I hope it knocks me out for a week.” You don’t stay to take in the worry on Azriel's face or the hurt that laced your friends features. Your book is tight in your grasp and you’re halfway down the hallway when you feel your palm begin to throb.
Your bedroom door shuts with a slam, pure frustration pulsing through your whole being and you can feel it ebbing from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. A sigh pulls when you take an angry sip, it burns your tongue, slightly bitter but it was eased with a little sugar and a teaspoon of honey.
Guilt swells at the kind gesture and your misguided anger; Elaine had only been trying to help, making things to quell the dreams she didn’t even know were centered around her and man you loved but didn't love you back. It weighs on you as you change into your night clothes, smoothening ointment and wrapping thick gauze around your burn; there was no blistering but the angry red mark was sure to remain there for quite some time.
You try to distract yourself, silently sipping as you read your book.
It’s alarming how quickly you relax, the giant mug nearly empty when your book slips between your fingers and thuds to the floor, body slumping into the sitting chair and you don’t even have enough time to drag a blanket over yourself before your eyes flutter shut and sleep takes over.
And this time, you didn’t dream.
There was only peaceful silence and maybe an uncomfortable pressure in your chest that it came and went in waves; too grateful for the relief that settled in your bones to care. It was like you were sinking, body slowly falling into a sea of cushion and comfort and you’d have been willing to stay there forever.
Your brows furrow when a noise pierces through the silence; eyes squinting in the darkness to find the source but the harder you try to make it out, the darker the rooms gets. A hand rubs against your chest, the pressure coming back and this time it’s so hard it makes you cough, eyes clenching shut and it’s like that was the switch to wake you up.
Azriel is leaning over you, hands on your chest and cheeks red with exertion when you cough and cough, soul aching to return to the peace—that silence where there were no dreams. “Why’d you wake me up?”
“Wake you up?” His voice holds no more room for placating to your wants; hands shaking at his sides and it’s then you see the fear. “You didn’t have a pulse. I came to check on you and you were—“ Azriel clears his throat, voice cracking with his clothes disheveled and full lips firm in a straight line as he stood before you, crouching down to meet your eye level. “Tell me right now, what were you dreaming about that was so bad that you were willing to die to stop them.”
Your chest heaves as you take in air, a ringing begins in your ears and you back away; avoiding the words, the conversation—the sight of his mouth on hers. “I can’t.”
“You can and you will."
"Azriel—"
Az groans at your tone, turning his entire body away as if he physically couldn't bear hearing another aversion; another lame excuse as to why you couldn't tell him what was going on when you always did. "Do you not trust me? Is that it?"
“What?”
You'd never seen him so upset, eyes blazing and wings rustling in his frustration as he stood. "I'm just listing shit at this point because all I've done is try to be there for you—me and Elaine, and you just keep pushing us away."
"Oh, please," You snap back, gaining the strength to stand and the ache in your chest only gets worse and you begin to wonder just how long he was on top of you breathing air into your lungs and willing breath to stick with the push of his hands. "If Elaine's around, I might as well just walk right out of the room because that means you'll be otherwise occupied shoving your head up her ass."
"You sound ridiculous." He lets out a gruff laugh, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you jealous or something?"
"It's clear you have feelings for her. I get it—she's perfect and pretty and skinny and obviously you like that sort of thing but don't stand here and pretend you even notice I exist with her there." There's no taking back the words and you don't even care to look into the way his brows furrow at you, words punching at him a mile a minute as a dam breaks and days and weeks and months worth of emotions rage forward with no signs of stopping. "How couldn't I be jealous? When it’s so obvious that you love her and not me.” It feels pathetic to say out loud, hands crossing over yourself as you did your best to remain strong; to get through the feelings even though your skin was on fire and you couldn't stop fidgeting. "That's what my dreams have been about. Why I've been missing sleep and hiding things from you because every time I close my eyes all I can fucking see is you and her."
You don't even realize how much distance you'd been putting between you two, subconsciously searching for a way out when Azriel inevitability let you down easy. "You love me?" Words die on your tongue, feelings laid bare and vulnerabilities left out for his viewing pleasure; eyes like drops of gold boring into you as you gently nod. He sinks onto the edge of your bed, a breathless laugh emitting as scarring fingers traced over the soft fabric of your duvet. "The only reason I started talking to Elaine in the first place is because you and her had gotten so close and I wanted an excuse to be around you."
Your brows furrow, lips parting in confusion and the nerves begin to fade. "No."
Azriel's head nods once, settling into the fell of your room and the little trinkets you'd kept close on the nightstand; pictures neatly framed and resting on books you favored a little more than the others on the shelves. Hand sculpted vases made from blown glass that scattered rainbows across the room when the sun shone through the curtains to feed the bright flowers inside of them. "Yes, but you kept leaving and I thought it was because you weren't interested."
"But, I thought—"
"I think it's safe to say we both were off in our assumptions."
It feels like a dream and not the kind you'd been running away from but the one you'd been sinking and falling into earlier before Azriel had pulled you back. The one that felt like peace and comfort and something like hope begins to brew in your belly when you dare you look him in the eyes. "You like me?"
Azriel's features soften, the fear and worry from before a thing of the past when he stood and walked towards you, shadows kissing at your legs when warm knuckles grazed your cheek. "I love you," He corrects gently, his touch like home and its instinct the way you close the proximity. You can feel his heartbeat on your chest, the strong muscles of his arms itching to be traced and a smile forms at the blush that forms on the tops of his ears under your attention. "—and those smutty little books you've been reading."
His chest is hard when you jokingly smack it, cheeks going hot and eyes darting to the book laid forgotten on the floor. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
The lie doesn't deter him and neither does the little gasp that pulls free when he gently forces you to look up at him, hazel eyes trained on your mouth and the tongue that darts out to wet plush lips. "I'll pretend I believe that if you just shut up and let me kiss you."
Maybe reality was better than dreaming.
Because this time, when he leaned down with intent to press his mouth against another’s for a kiss—it was with you.
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hyewka · 3 months
Text
choi yeonjun. | c.yj
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PAIRING ▸ bsf!yeonjun x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ fluff, smut, a bit of angst
SYNOPSIS ▸ in which getting your male friend prettied up for a party goes weirdly left.
WARNINGS ▸ sub!jjun, femdom, grinding, protected, dacryphilia 
NOTES ▸ parenthesis around an event refers to the past!! anyway its been like, a hundred years since ive gone ghost but i promised to come back with a fic and here i am!! its a silly best friends fic lol nothing more to it but i always enjoy any semblance of feedback, it'll motivate me greatly <3 enjoy this meal hehe.
tags: @soobhns (hope you enjoy it babes ^^)
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"THE HELL'S YEONJUN DOING?"
You swirl your cup, tilting your head as you watch the new topic of your conversation touch up his hair a little too much, running a hand through his unruly strands as his legs barely work to have him stand up straight when a girl approaches him.
Mark looks concerned as he adds in, “And who the fuck got him in those bunny ears? Is it easter or something, geez”
You snort, your drink sputtering out of your mouth, spraying some of it on Taehyun. “Oh my god, Y/N, gross!” he groans loudly, jumping back as if he’s been hit by a water balloon.
“Sorry,” you giggle, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes still glued to Yeonjun. He’s fumbling awkwardly, trying to maintain a conversation with a girl who’s very clearly interested if the finger trail down his bicep was anything to go by. The rooftop air is especially chilly today, and you wonder if Yeonjun’s goosebumps are any visible to her. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, completely out of his element.
“It’s probably some stupid hazing shit, he never backs down from those.” Hyejoon mutters, scrolling away on her phone.
“But bunny ears? For hazing that seems weak as shit.” Mark responds, seemingly as interested on the train wreck thats about to ensue as you are. Then suddenly, he turns to you, eyes still trained on Yeonjun and the pretty girl. “Dude you’re practically his twin sister—why’s he acting like that?”
You cringe internally at that, smacking Mark’s arm. “Ow! The fuck?” he hisses, rubbing his arm. Twin sister? Oh god, you do not like that one bit.
Not at all. “Shut up Mark.” He only grumbles as he backs away.
You would rather shower in spoiled milk than be referred to as Yeonjun’s sister in any capacity—and it has absolutely nothing to do with what happened a few hours ago.
...It does add on to the grossness of it all though.
—4 hours ago …[5:21 PM]
The moment you step into his flat, you dash down the narrow hallway and into his room, launching yourself onto the bed with a triumphant yell. The plush mattress bounces slightly under your weight giving you a fleeting second of bliss before Yeonjun bursts in, diving towards you. "Not with your outside clothes!" he whines, trying to wrestle you off. "You're contaminating my sacred space!" he adds with mock seriousness, his efforts both frantic and hilarious.
You stick out your tongue childishly, and it serves the job to tick him off. “Man, you’re such a pain,” he groans.
“What should I do anyway? Change into PJ’s I haven’t brought along? Besides!” you retort, struggling to pull your makeup bag out from your tote while Yeonjun’s weight presses down on you. With a triumphant grin, you finally free it and wave it in front of his face. “Where are we supposed to do this then?”
He snorts. “The couch, duh.”
The mere thought of that dark green monstrosity, old and beat-up, sends a shiver down your spine. The last time you sat on it, its worn fabric had felt like sandpaper against your skin, and the patches of stuffing poking through made it seem like you were sitting on a nest of lumpy scars. You couldn't even sit through twenty minutes of the movie with Yeonjun before you had decided to move to the floor.
Your upper lip curls in distaste. “No chance. You need to switch that thing out ASAP.”
Yeonjun shrugs nonchalantly, clearly not as repulsed as you are. “What’s wrong with it? I mean, yeah, it’s seen better days, but it has character.”
“Character? More like a biohazard waiting to happen,” you say, grimacing. “I’m not risking sitting on that thing again. Also, get off, you're killing me.”
Yeonjun lets out a long, resigned sigh, knowing that arguing any further would be a losing battle. "Fine," he mutters, shifting his weight off you. "But at least take your shoes off. You're genuinely a psychopath," he adds.
You relent, rolling off the bed and kicking off your shoes with exaggerated care, just to appease him. Yeonjun narrows his eyes, silently watching you with a playful glint in his gaze, his arms crossed over his chest. You can almost see the gears turning in his head as he observes your antics. "What?" you finally ask, catching him off guard.
He blinks, momentarily flustered, then quickly averts his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Just counting down how many more years I have to deal with this," he says, gesturing vaguely at your exaggerated movements.
"Yeah, yeah," you say, waving your hand dismissively. "You know you love me."
"Keep telling yourself that," he replies, but his tone is light, the grumble fading away. You click your tongue, making sure to stick out a solid finger behind his back when he stands up to head to the bathroom. Prick.
But you can't keep up the act much longer when you look down at your outfit. It's not overly complicated but you still haven’t thanked him for helping you feel a lot more confident in it than you would've if he wasn't by your side ranting about silhouettes and all his other (not-so) stupid fashion advice.
With a sigh, you allow yourself to flop back onto his bed, your fingers sinking into the soft duvet. As you lay there, you take in the new decorations he's put up on his wall. He only recently moved here, and it's already looking a lot more like him than the last time you paid him a visit. The posters of his favorite bands, the quirky art pieces, and the sleek record player that sits atop a vintage-looking stand, surrounded by stacks of vinyl records—everything screams Yeonjun. Even the smell your brain finally registers as his signature scent subtly creeps up your nostrils; sandalwood, fresh linen and hints of citrus. It calms your nerves—like your body's trained to associate anything about Yeonjun with feeling safe.
You reach out for a familiar-looking photo strip on his desk, your finger stretching as far as it can until you manage to snatch it.
It's a sequence of three pictures of you and Yeonjun back in... high school? Freshman year considering you're sporting a terrible bowl cut that looks like it was done with a soup bowl and a pair of dull scissors. Yeonjun, on the other hand, smiles big with his braces, the metal gleaming under the photo booth's flash.
And just like that, you're suddenly reminded one thing; Yeonjun's always been there with you, for you.
("She's a total bitch anyway."
You gasp, hitting his arm. "What?!" he exclaims, affronted. "I'm starting to think you really enjoy abusing me."
"You just- you can't say that about women!" You try to sniff back the snot running down your nose, but it's futile.
He rolls his eyes. "She slept with Heeseung behind your back. Shes’ earned the title."
You shut your mouth and turn from him, not believing you're seriously trying to defend the ex-friend that had taken enough of a liking of your crush to sleep with him. It isn't the worst offense in the world but considering she's done it behind your back instead of telling you upfront...it leaves a bitter enough taste in your mouth to end the friendship altogether.
"I...really liked her, and I really liked him," you mutter, the admission feeling heavier than you'd expected. "Do you think I'm being childish? It's not like I was dating him or anything."
Yeonjun wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in as he taps his hand rhythmically against your arm.
The summer heat lingers in the air, the warmth from the sun-baked concrete seeping through your clothes. You can feel the rough texture of the sidewalk under your palms, gritty and familiar. "Nope. Feelings are valid."
A silence overtakes you both as you watch the fifth car drive by you. Distant chirping of crickets mingle with the occasional rustle of leaves in the slight breeze. The neighborhood is alive with the soft, ambient sounds of summer nights: a dog barking in the distance, the faint laughter of kids playing a few houses down, the low murmur of a television through an open window.
Suddenly, he tightens his arm around you, providing a comforting squeeze. You lean into him, finding comfort in his presence.
"You know I'd never do that to you, right?" he says softly, breaking the silence.
You look up at him, narrowing your eyes playfully, "Sleep with my male crush? I've always questioned, I don't know."
He gives you a betrayed look and you burst out laughing.)
It's weird how often you reminisce about the past...especially these past few months; sappy and overly sentimental shit that you try not to dwell on every time you hang out. Is this how old people feel?
There's always a time and place, it's just not when he farts into a pillow and practically Dutch ovens you with it. Now, that memory you'd rather attempt to forget as you close your eyes, throwing the photo strip back on his desk exhaustingly.
You don't notice that he's out until you feel water dripping onto your skin. Your eyes shoot open in horror, seeing his face inches from yours, freshly washed and hair slightly damp. He's leaning over you with a look of resignation mixed with amusement, a towel slung over his shoulder. "Enjoy your nap?" he asks, a mischievous grin spreading across his face before he shakes his head vigorously, sending a shower of water droplets from his hair onto your face.
You yelp and scramble up, swatting at the water droplets. "Yeonjun, seriously?" you sputter, wiping your face. "You're such a child!"
"That's ironic because you're even more of a child!" he rebuts with a pout, mimicking a petulant toddler. Talk about ironic. You narrow your eyes at him before exhaling sharply out of your nose, sitting up to make room for him on the bed.
He plops down beside you and it takes you a second to take your eyes off his face—freshly scrubbed and still slightly damp—before remembering why you're here in the first place. Makeup.
Right, makeup.
—3 hours and 12 minutes ago …[6:09 PM]
It was over seven months ago when you and Choi Yeonjun, slightly drunk off soju and beer, were giggling uncontrollably over the dumbest jokes in the dead of night with Beomgyu, his (now ex-) roommate, passed out on the floor. Turns out, shaky hands proved to be absolute dog shit when it came to drawing a straight line. You had silently panicked as you attempted to clean up the eyeliner that you've horrendously drawn on. You had really, really wanted him to like it.
Originally, it started off as a way to tease him, begging to apply eyeliner and some eyeshadow on his lids because you think he’d look gorgeous with them, to which his lips quirked up to, whining about how no man wants to be called ‘gorgeous’ and oh how emasculating it was. Plus, Yeonjun had an inkling your intentions were far less innocent than you let on.
When he finally surrendered around... the sixth time you bring the whole thing up, you admit that your idea of making him look like a clown and getting a good laugh out of his reaction moves itself out of your thoughts the moment he ushers you to scoot next to him and work your magic... whatever that meant.
But hey, it all worked itself out. Oddly enough, from that day on, you think putting makeup on Yeonjun quickly became one of your favorite pastimes beating your recent liking to duck herding (yes, it's a real thing you've spent way too much of your time investing in).
You like to think he enjoys it to some extent too, given the number of times he's let you practice on him, even if he would never admit it outright. But regardless of how relaxing you think it might be for him, he seems to go out of his way to make it as tedious as possible for you.
Every time you start working on his makeup, he fidgets and squirms like a restless child. He'll make funny faces just as you're about to apply eyeliner, or he'll suddenly sneeze, causing a puff of powder to explode into the air. Thankfully it doesn't last long, he either tires himself out or feels too bad to continue torturing your patience. Either way, you appreciate doing this for him a lot more when he's half asleep and relatively still.
Like now for example.
You're like, 99% sure he's dozed off. Considering he's spent the week cooped up in his apartment studying his ass off for two exams, it's not very surprising the all-nighters are catching up to him. Which is exactly why you're wondering the reason hes' chosen to go out to this party anyway.
His breathing is slow and steady, and his head lolls slightly to the side.
Just as you start to apply a touch of blush, his voice breaks the silence. "Don't make it look too obvious."
You’re caught off guard that he's in fact not asleep. "I won't."
"And no crazy blue tint."
You groan, pulling away from his face. Not this again. "C'mon, I only did that once and you've been holding it over my head for three months dude."
He cracks open one eye, peering at you with a mix of exhaustion and amusement. "You made me look like a smurf."
"It was artistic!" you splutter, not believing you're back to arguing about this again. "And you looked good!"
Suddenly, his mouth closes and he cocks his brow. Then his lips twitch into a suppressed smile.
He closes his eyes fully, trying to hide his amusement. "There's absolutely no way you just let that get into your head." you whisper, truly astonished at who you've chosen to be acquainted with for more than half of your life.
"Blah, blah, blah," he mutters, waving a hand dismissively before settling back into the pillow, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know I'm handsome, thank you for the reminder."
You open your mouth to retort, then close it…open it again…and close it once more, dumbfounded. Yeonjun's insufferable when it comes to anything that has to do with his face. His ego is practically impossible to pop.
But if you had to be completely honest with yourself, you don't blame him. You especially don't now as you try to ignore the fact that he's staring you down while you apply tint to his infuriatingly perfect shaped lips. You would never admit that one out loud.
Or the fact that you've thought about kissing Yeonjun a dozen times in the past. You seem to have some weird fixation on them. You would even go as far as to replace thought with imagine. Hell, you’ve been friends for ten years, it would’ve been odd if you hadn’t at least once...right?
It's normal.
("You're weird."
You snap your head around to him, frankly offended, "What?" Is there even a chance of enjoying a party with this nuisance by your side?
"Don't act dumb, you've been staring at my lips the entire night." Yeonjun tilts his head, puckering his lips, "Trying to kiss?"
You're horrified as you blink rapidly, your cheeks burning red, completely caught off guard. "N-no? How drunk are you?"
"That was a no with a question mark. We can try it out if you want." He shrugged, leaning in closer to you, of course with his lips annoyingly puckered and his eyes closed.
You're standing in the cramped kitchen of a typical frat house, the air thick with the smell of spilled beer and cheap cologne. The counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and discarded food wrappers.
Without thinking, you had grabbed the nearest drink and thrown it at him. The cold liquid had splashed across his chest, soaking his second favorite shirt. You know it's his second favorite because he's managed to pester you about it two years after this incident.)
You don’t necessarily like Yeonjun; hell no, you just absolutely appreciatively despise how well he's grown. He’s always looked cute—you distinctly remember the countless girls who handed you notes for him in elementary school or some who've befriended you in high school to try and get his number. You just never reckoned you’d be one of the girls checking him out.
As you finish applying the clear gloss to his lips, you can’t help but let your gaze linger. His eyes are closed and his lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks, and those lips— god damn it are they stupidly inviting.
You gulp down the irrational thoughts bubbling up, trying to focus on anything but the quickening of the beating in your chest. You’ve always been the one in control, the one who didn’t fall for his charms like everyone else. Is this a side effect of being under a dry spell for longer than a month? Being stuck in the unfavorable position of lusting over your long time best friend?
That must be it because when he flutters his eyes open, the world seems to pause. Just for a second, all that fills your thoughts is just how absolutely gorgeous he looks. It hurts.
“Done,” you whisper, your voice barely steady. "Went with the au naturelle look, per request."
“Thanks,” he replies softly, his smile warm and genuine. But then you're sitting there longer than you intend to and the silence stretches out longer than appropriate, and he snorts lightly. "What?"
You blink out of your daze, shaking your head, laughing airily. “Nothing." You clear your throat, awkward. "You just look... pretty.”
But then his reaction to that pulls you right back in your trance. For the first time, a cheeky reply doesn’t leave his lips. Instead, he’s silent and he looks…shy. That's new.
“Gorgeous,” you correct yourself, nodding. “You look pretty gorgeous.” Can you say that? You don't have a clue.
“Aren’t you just complimenting your makeup skills?” He teases, though it doesn’t nearly have the same effect as it usually does when his eyes are so doe-like, giving him a weirdly innocent look. 
You would never describe Yeonjun as a puppy, but if you had to before this, he'd be more like an annoying chihuahua. Right now, he's anything but. He looks innocent. Innocent and beautiful, like a hybrid mix of an angelic, golden retriever. "Besides, maybe not the ideal impression I want to make tonight. Does that whole pretty boy thing work with women? We're probably not that advanced into the world yet. Hey! You're a woman so you should know; do you think it's going to be a little threatening or—"
His rambling fades out by like, the first word— you think you might as well just be under a spell. Because once again, you find your gaze's zeroing in on his plump, pink lips.
Fuck... should you just go for it?
Your heart races, pounding in your ears, and every rational thought slowly slips away to go knows where, leaving behind only the burning desire to close the distance between you.
Just as you lean in, a phone dings, shattering the moment. Yeonjun’s eyes flicker towards the sound, subtly breaking the spell.
He pulls out his phone, glancing at the screen with a slight frown. “Taehyun said in the group chat that he’d pick us up.” He whispers. “Meaning I don’t have to drive or anything, yay.”
You smile in response, or try to as you try to gather your scattered thoughts.
“When’s he coming?”
“Uh, hold on. Let me ask.” You should move away, just a little further—you really, really should. Take your chance now and go to the bathroom to calm yourself down. It's the combination of Yeonjun being unfairly attractive, the fact that you haven't had sex in ages, and the proximity. If you eliminate one of those factors, you won't make the huge mistake you're so, so close to making.
But…you don’t want to. You don't want to ignore the burning desire of jumping his bones right this moment...for lack of better words.
“He hasn't even showered yet, Jesus christ.” Yeonjun snickers, looking down at his phone then back up at you. His squeaky laugh dies down pretty quickly when he notices you aren't sharing the humor, silently putting his phone face down on the bedside table. “What?” he says again. The shy expression’s back, his eyebrows tilt up and he looks like a damn kicked puppy…exactly your type.
Your eyes twitch and narrow with hesitation as you bite the inside of your cheeks; this feels wrong. You could stop it from going any further, keep your juvenile attraction from altering anything between you and Yeonjun. But when his tongue flicks out to wet his pink lips, you curse the gods for making the forbidden apple irresistibly tempting.
"Your teeth are pretty."
He furrows his brows, clearly taken aback. "That's an odd thing to—"
"I like it when you smile," you blurt out, your voice barely above a whisper.
"...Th...ank you?" He stammers, confusion mixed with curiosity in his eyes.
You take a deep breath, then out. "Yeonjun. Can I fuck you?"
He blinks. It’s silent as his eyes dart around like this is some elaborate prank, expecting a group of people to pop out with a camera in his face. You can see the visible gulp in his throat, his fingers hesitantly toying with the hem of your shorts, showing that he absolutely knew jack shit what to do with his hands. “Can you what?” He laughs nervously.
You've always imagined how it'd be like to kiss Choi Yeonjun.
And now that you’re experiencing it, all thoughts about this being a silly little thing you’ve entertained ever so rarely, hits the fan.
He feels against you like everything you imagined and more; the pillowy softness of his plump lips that feels so comfortable as they open slightly more each time it could lull you to sleep. His breathing that comes out in short gasps the harder you press yourself against him, having you dig your nails further into his face. His pitched whines drowned out by your feverish lips as you kiss him over and over again, feeling yourself get hooked by the minute.
You should stop. You should.
That’s what you plan to do when you finally pull away from the kiss, wipe your lips of any remnants of him, get off the bed and sprint the hell out of his house, then preferably find a way to blame it on female hormones or whatever. College guys never question that, do they?
But for the second time tonight, your mind draws blank and your eyes are stuck to his face, the slight smudge of the tint you applied and his heavy lidded eyes, his rising chest, the print of your nails showing up red on his cheeks…God, you’ve got absolutely no self control. “Um, do... that?” You breathe out.
You haven't entertained the idea that he might reject your advances, until now that is. And then what you've just done would probably be counted as assault. And it'd be too awkward to speak ever again and oh god, what the fuck have you done—
Your reverie's broken when Yeonjun suddenly leans in, capturing your lips in another kiss. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer before he finally moves you to straddle his lap, the initial hesitation gone. The intensity of his response takes you by surprise, but you quickly melt into it, your body responding to him with an urgency that matches his own. The makeup kit gets knocked off the bed in your fervor, and neither of you care.
“Yeonjun. We—we won’t do this again right?” You ask, breathless, as you start to roll your hips slightly into him in an attempt of reliving that incessant need at your core.
“Yeah…yeah.” he sighs out, seemingly a goner when you increase even just a bit of friction.
“This is like, totally a one time thing that we’d just randomly bring up in a game of truth or dare as a fun anecdote and—and we’d be like those cool best friends with a cool little platonic relationship that’ve hooked up once. Totally normal.” you ramble, your resolve breaking as you grind against his rapidly growing boner. “Right?”
“Mm, totally.” he whines, his eyes heavy with lust. He looks completely consumed by the sensation he’s feeling and it fuels your desire for him tenfold. You kiss him again, your noses bumping against each other as you take his pretty lips in yours over and over again. You pull away slightly enough to catch your breath, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips, glistening in the dim light. Your faces are only inches apart, so close you can hear the gulp he takes, his breath warm and ragged against your skin.
"Whatever you say." he murmurs, his voice husky.
Oh. Oh.
This is totally unfair.
You brush your thumb gently across his bottom lip, savoring the way he shivers under your touch. "Whatever I say, huh?”
He nods slightly, “Yeah.”
You bite your lip before deciding to trail kisses down his jawline, your breath hot against his skin. You can feel his pulse quickening beneath your touch, the small gasp escaping his lips as you press a lingering kiss just below his ear is something you can only describe as maddening to your state. “You’re sensitive,” you note lightly before continuing your journey down his neck. 
You gulp when he decides on finally gripping your ass, taking a bit of control on your pace. He rolls his head back slightly, chuckling, “Fuck, gonna make me nut in my pants if you keep goin’ like that.”
You need to hear more of the whining, more of his cute noises and more of his pathetic display. You want to hear him beg.
“Hands off.”
Clarity washes over his eyes a little more as he falters, his hands lessening its grip, blinking perplexed. The innocent looks back almost immediately and it drives you insane. “Keep them above your head, you don’t get to touch me unless I tell you to.”
You don’t wait for a reply before immediately sinking down to nip at his neck again, soothing the spot with your tongue, and he gasps. Yeonjun whines like earlier and it’s so …primal. Actually you don’t even think he would’ve protested in the first place because he seems entirely fine like this, completely at your disposal as his moans start to pick up intensity way quicker than you anticipated. 
"Holy shit," he breathes, his voice barely a whisper. "You’re driving me crazy."
You smile against his skin, leaving one last kiss before pulling back to meet his eyes, which he visibly pouts at. You cup his cheeks. "I know. But don’t get too excited just yet.”
He lightly scoffs, “Way to stroke your ego.”
“Learned from the best.” you retort, your hands moving quickly to unbuckle his jeans.
His breath hitches as he watches you. “Are we really going... all the way?”
You pause, raising a brow, searching his eyes for any hesitation. “...Do you not want to?”
“Condoms in second drawer.”
—2 hours and 1 minute ago …[7:20 PM]
“P-please...please. Please. Move. Just a little." he hiccups the last plea, his tear stained face buried in your neck. "You're s-so fucking cruel," he says, his voice muffled.
"Sorry, I kinda like it when you're crying."
His breath shudders against your skin; you can feel his desperation, his need, and it sends a thrilling rush through you. You gently pull back, just enough to see his face, his eyes wet with unshed tears, his lips parted in a silent plea.
Slowly, deliberately, you let your hands trace the lines of his body, feeling the tension and desire coiled tightly beneath his skin. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, savoring the soft gasp that escapes him. "My jjunie's such a good boy," you drawl.
He trembles under your touch, his hands gripping you tighter, silently begging for more. You move your hips up slightly, just enough to elicit a strangled moan from him, the sound raw and needy.
"Do you like it when I make you cry?" you murmur against his ear, your voice a sultry whisper.
He nods frantically, unable to form words, his breath hot and ragged. The sight of him so vulnerable, so utterly at your mercy, ignites a fierce desire within you. You bite your lip, relishing the power you hold over him, the way his body responds to your every touch, every whisper.
"Are you usually like this?" you suddenly muster to ask, finding too much enjoyment playing with this poor boy.
He only whines as a response and you laugh, increasing your pace on his cock as you go up and down. "Y'know...so pliable."
Yeonjun bites back a sob of pain, feeling like he's going to die from the power he’s exerting to hold back. He grips onto the sheets, his fingers turning white from the strain. "Aw, look at you, poor baby. Am I going too slow?"
He nods again, more vigorously this time, drool seeping out the edge of his lips as his mouth hangs open, thinking you're going to spare him just a bit.
If you're going to do this once with him, you'd rather do anything but.
His face falls when you suddenly stop, his eyes blown wide, hair a disheveled mess; he looks absolutely debauched. This time more closely resembling a fallen angel. "Fuck me on your own if I'm so bad at this."
"I didn't- you're not bad at-" even when he tries to respond, he doesn't hesitate to try and switch positions, but you immediately put a stop to it, pressing him back down firmly. "No. I'll still be on top."
He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, eyes wide. "Then... how?"
You shrug, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Figure it out."
You gasp when he starts massaging your breasts, not expecting the sudden touch. "You're the worst," he moans against your tit once he engulfs your nipple in his mouth, suckling rather roughly while simultaneously raising his hips off the bed, struggling to slam his cock in a fitting pace.
His bangs fall over his eyes, and his lips are swollenly red from how hard he's bitten them. You would label his determination adorable if it wasn't for the fact that you currently had him stretching your pussy out.
"Yeah— but probably the best fuck you've had in a while." you manage to grit out.
"You humor yourself."
You can't take him too seriously when his words are so slurred and barely coherent with how eager he is to bury himself between your tits and lather them with his spit.
"You're such a dog," you purr, "C'mon, don't give up on me doggy. I can tell you're just desperate to let it all out."
He groans, sucking harder as he starts up again, frantically fucking up into you. You can tell hes already a goner when his eyes start to roll to the back of his head, the moans of your name short and incessant.
"Don't get dumb on me already."
He whispers sorry's over and over again, nodding his head.
"Fuck--f-fuck, why're you doing this to me?” his breath hitches, whining like a baby. What you're completely unaware of as you get lost in your pleasure— the last thing Choi Yeonjun wants is to get out of this looking like a desperate bitch. Especially to you.
But he simply can't help it.
Hes' never been under these circumstance. Hes never sounded like this for any girl, hes never let himself get this vulnerable. And for it to be during sex? It's the closest thing to a nightmare.
But he can't dwell on those thoughts when you lean over to his ear, showering him with praises on how pretty he looks and oh how well he's doing. That he's just getting you so fucking close.
When you pull away again, the only thing that's on his mind is just how...pretty you look.
“B-bet you tell other guys that all the time,” his smirk twitches at that, getting himself worked up.
You tilt your head. “Calling them pretty?” you implore, rolling his nipples between your fingers just to elicit that perfect reaction from him; he gives you just as much, half gasping half moaning against his better will, “A few, yeah” you tease.
That doesn't seem to be the right thing to say because his face immediately falls and your intention of having light banter goes to the back burner as you slightly panic, feeling bad and kissing him in attempt of making it up to him non verbally. But that doesn't do the job because the moment you pull away, he's still frowning.
You sigh, rubbing your thumb on his cheek affectionately, "But you're the one I'm most honest about."
He doesn't hesitate to lean into the familiar touch, and you can't help but coo at how cute he's acting. "You mean that?"
You press your forehead to his, your breath mingling with his, and nod. "Mhm, the prettiest."
That does it.
Slowly, he starts to thrust upward, trying to match the rhythm he had previously set. You can feel his desperation, his need to please you, and it sends a thrill through your body.
"That's it," you purr, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "Show me how badly you want it baby."
He groans, the new angle allowing him to hit deeper inside you with each thrust. His hands find their way to your hips, guiding you to move with him. You can feel the tension in his body, every muscle working to bring you both closer to the edge. You purposefully clench around his swollen cock and he buries his head against you again. You let him as you thread through his hair.
"You feel so good, you smell so good, you—" he breathes, his voice trembling with the effort. "Please, let me—fuck, cum please—c-can't hold it any longer."
You press your lips to his neck, sucking lightly as you murmur, "Not yet, baby. I want to feel you beg for it."
His thrusts become more frantic under you, the sound of skin slapping against skin being proof, his breath coming out hot and ragged against your skin. "Please," he begs sweetly, his voice a desperate whisper. "I need it so bad. Please, let me cum. I'll do anything."
Your own desire reaches a fever pitch as you watch him unravel beneath you. "Anything?" you tease.
"Anything," he repeats, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with a mixture of desperation and adoration.
With a wicked smile, you finally relent, moving your hips in sync with his thrusts, the friction building to an unbearable intensity. "Cum for me," you command, your voice low and sultry. "Now."
His body tenses, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he finally lets go, the release hitting him with shuddering force. The sight of him coming undone beneath you pushes you over the edge, your own climax ripping through you, leaving you both breathless and trembling.
"Holy shit."
You chuckle, collapsing to his side, both of you now staring at the ceiling. But slowly, the realization starts to set in.
You just...had sex with Choi Yeonjun. Whatever bliss you were stuck in, dissipates as nut clarity takes over. You just fucked your best friend. And even worse, you dirty talked. Suddenly, you feel shame and embarrassment course through your bloodstream, making your cheeks burn and your stomach twist.
"D-did you... like, cum?"
You avoid eye contact, preferring the staring contest you're having with his stupid ceiling as you wrap your naked body with his sheets. "Yep."
An awkward silence hangs between you, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You can feel his eyes on you, searching for something, but you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, counting the imperfections in the paint.
"Splendid," he finally says, the word hanging in the air.
Splendid...splendid?
You burst out in a fit of giggles, unable to hold it back. The look of disbelief on your face is mirrored by the amusement in his eyes. "Splendid? Really?" you manage to say between giggles, your body shaking with laughter.
He blushes, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "What? I use big words when I'm nervous."
"Splendid's a big word to you?"
"Okay, low blow."
"Man, just pass me my clothes," you laugh, shifting to sit up on the bed. The blanket is draped over your chest, and you look at him expectantly as he fetches the ones that got on the floor.
He watches you, a slight smile playing on his lips, but confusion clouds your eyes. What's he expecting? "Turn around."
He looks even more puzzled as he says, "But we just had sex. Like penis in vagina sex. I saw it all."
"Yeah, and never again, Yeonjun," you retort, still giggling as you reach out for your clothes. "Just turn around."
He rolls his eyes but obliges. "Fine, fine. I’m turning around."
You quickly gather your clothes, slipping into them while keeping an eye on his back. "Damn, so that really was just a one-time thing."
"Mhm," you hum, then get off his bed fully dressed to go to his bathroom and at least make your hair look presentable. As you run a brush through your hair, you glance at your reflection, shaking your head at the state you're currently in.
Meanwhile, Yeonjun is still in bed, naked and absolutely spent, watching you as you step out of the bathroom, heading to his closet to fetch him some pants since ...there's a big wet spot on the ones he was going to wear to the party. As you rummage through the closet, something catches your eye, and you pull out a pair of familiar bunny ears.
Your bunny ears from high school.
You come out of the closet, holding the ears up with a look of surprise. "You still have this?"
Yeonjun glances over, his eyes widening in recognition before he breaks into a sheepish grin. "Oh, those. Yeah, I found them a while back and couldn't bring myself to throw them away."
You break into a grin, walking over to the bed, playfully placing the bunny ears on his head. "You look ridiculous," you laugh, pulling out your phone to take pictures of him.
He groans but doesn’t stop you, knowing it's futile. "Great, now you're going to have blackmail material for life."
You snap a few photos, giggling at how silly he looks. "Oh, absolutely. These are going to come in handy."
He chuckles, shaking his head slightly as the ears flop around. "Just promise you won't show them to anyone. My reputation can't handle it."
You laugh, tucking your phone back into your pocket. "Don't worry, these are just for me."
See?
You and Yeonjun are just fine. Was it a little awkward the first few seconds? Sure. But there's absolutely nothing in the world that can get in the between of you two.
—present …[9:24 PM]
Noticing how much more comfortable he seems now, everything else fades into background noise— he’s almost right back to his usual self. Something about that bothers you as you take a big gulp of your drink, feeling the burn as it slides down your throat. Suddenly, you stand up, blinking away the dizziness. “I need to sober up. Hyejoon, come with me to the bathroom.”
“Huh? Oh, okay.”
It’s a hassle to find the bathroom, but when you do, you quickly lock the door behind you and your friend. You rush to the mirror, staring at your reflection before turning on the water to wash your face.
What’s wrong with you? Is there something wrong with you? It must be the alcohol.
“You feeling alright?” she whispers, her brows furrowing in concern.
You splash your face with freezing water over and over again, trying to snap out of it. The one question that plagues your thoughts over and over again feels dooming; did you make a mistake?
“Hey,” she pulls you back to face her. “Are you okay?”
You stare at her in silence for a bit until you end up cracking a firm smile, “Yeah, just needed to get my head out of the gutter.”
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575 notes · View notes
heizlut · 1 year
Note
Hello! Can I plz request where Aether, Venti, Gorou, Kazuha, Itto, and Diluc find out that their s/o is a submissive in bed?
ooo i like this!!! thanks for sending this in!
tags: gn sub!reader, dom!characters, rut (itto), worship kink (venti), no use of y/n
cw: semi-public in diluc and venti’s sections
nsfw under the cut
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Aether~
Aether was so happy to have an s/o who could keep up with him as he travelled across Teyvat. It seemed he never had to worry about you no matter what dangers you faced together. You were headstrong, always taking the initiative when it came to accepting commissions and speaking up for the both of you when someone’s request was particularly unreasonable. You certainly were not afraid to express your distaste when a request was quite..stupid for lack of better words. Aether didn't mind letting you take the lead when it came to those decisions, secretly cheering you on when you spoke your unfiltered thoughts and feelings.
After a tiring day of getting absolutely no where in finding his sister, Aether was particularly pent up with frustration. He tugs you close to his body as he begins pressing feverish kisses to your neck, "Need you now.." You moan softly, tilting your head to give him better access, "Want me to make you feel better?" He pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes with a smirk, "Oh yeah? How about you get on your knees for then?" Aether challenged you, only half-joking, not thinking you would actually do as he said. His eyes widen slightly as he watches you obediently sink to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with such a submissive look in your eyes as you wait for his next instruction. He can't help the way his cock throbs in his pants seeing his headstrong s/o being so submissive for him. Growing slightly impatient with him, you open your mouth sticking your tongue out showing that you were absolutely serious about this. He tugs his pants down just enough to let his aching cock out, all leaky and throbbing. Aether guides his dick to your mouth, tapping it on your tongue as if to test how patient and obedient you would truly be. When you don't move on your own, he smirks and pushes his length into your mouth as he begins to fuck your throat, letting his frustrations melt away, "So good for me... fuck."
Venti~
Your relationship with Venti had the very obvious dynamic of golden retriever and black cat, with him being the golden retriever and you being the black cat. The people of Mondstadt are often baffled at the sight of you two together, wondering how such a cheerful bard could be with someone so... intimidating. Venti often joked that he had scary dog privileges with you by his side. Despite your outward demeanor, you were honestly quite silly and happily went along with his shenanigans. On this particular evening, you had found yourselves making out behind the Church of Favionious. Your lips press against his feverishly. You pull away slightly, looking at him with absolute adoration as you softly say, "Let me worship you properly" Venti lets out his signature laugh, his eyes hold a mischievous glint, "Oho! You wish to worship your archon~? Let's start with you worshipping Lord Barbatos on your knees then~"
Gorou~
Gorou was so proud to have such a strong warrior for an s/o. You fought by his side formidably, even helping him strategize against the Shogunates. You also weren't afraid to put any disrespectful soldiers in their place. He had to admit that your strong-willed and fierce attitude turned him on, but he secretly wanted to test if he could turn the tables. Gorou had no idea that watching him command other soldiers and lead the frontlines during battle had you wanting him desperately to show that side of him to you in the bedroom.
That night you approach his tent with a rather shy look on your face which instantly catches Gorou's attention. He rushes over to you checking you over for anything that might be causing you to behave this way when suddenly you gently cup his face in your hands, "Gorou.. I want to try something new.." You trail off, a blush falls over your cheeks as Gorou looks at you a little confused, "Something new? You mean you have a new battle strategy?" You shake your head, forcing yourself to look up at him, "I.. want you to command me like how you command the other soldiers.. I want you to... Take control of me.." Gorou's face heats up at your words, his cock begins to harden as he processes your words. His face quickly morphs into a sly smile as he pulls you close to him, his hand holding your chin with slight pressure as he tilts your face up to his, "You want me to be in charge?" He breathes out a small laugh, "Well, that can certainly be arranged. Now be good for me and get on the bed. Now."
Kazuha~
Kazuha enjoyed watching you help Beidou dish out orders to the other crew members. You looked like such a sweetheart, but you had quite the sharp tongue, never failing to catch unsuspecting people off guard. They never thought the s/o of gentle wanderer Kazuha to be so sharp with their words when the situation called for it. When you and Kazuha finally have your first intimate moment with each other, the poet of many beautiful words is suddenly...at a loss for words when you tell him that you prefer to be the submissive one. Kazuha takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss on top of it, "And here I thought you would be the one to want to take the lead... Not that I mind this development at all. In fact, I'm rather pleased." He leans forward pressing a kiss to your cheek and lowers his voice for only you to hear, "Although, I hope you realize what you've just signed yourself up for, darling."
Itto~
Itto loved being with you so much. You weren't afraid to get into a bit of trouble with him and the rest of the Arataki gang. Often times people would mistake you or Kuki as the actual leader of the gang with the way they would watch you both take charge of them in your own ways, with you leading the mischief and Kuki chastising you all when you get yourselves in trouble with the Shogunates.
It was nearing spring time which meant Itto would have to hide himself away from you, not wanting to overwhelm you with the rut he would have to endure as an oni, especially when you two haven't gone further than making out and feeling each other's bodies. You were concerned when Itto didn't show up today for the onikabuto battle he promised you, so you make your way towards his home completely oblivious to his rut. You barge right in as you usually would only to be quickly tackled to the ground by a large body, "Gah! Itto! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" You look up at your oni boyfriend only to notice his eyes are darkened with lust, "Sorry... Couldn't help myself. I.. need you" He ruts against your core causing you to let out a pathetic sounding whimper as he whispers apologies over and over, "It's my rut. Spring makes us oni a little..." You place your finger over his lips, "You don't have to explain. Use me however you please." Itto's movements halt momentarily, "Y'really mean that? Don't go saying stuff like that right now..." You roll your hips upwards to meet his, "Please..." A low growl rips from his throat as he tears your clothes off with his sharp nails. You definitely weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Diluc~
Having you as his s/o is like a sigh of relief. So many of his burdens with the winery and Angel's Share seem to lift from his shoulders when you take the initiative in organizing client orders and business deals so that he can have some reprieve. His heart swells with pride when you have no qualms in kicking out particularly rowdy guests from the tavern or even straight up denying Kaeya and Venti of more alcohol when they've clearly had more than enough of their fair share (and when Venti's tab has clearly met its limit).
After the tavern closes for the night, Diluc watches as you bend forward over a table while wiping it down and feels his cock stir to life. He approaches you hesitantly as he wants your first time with him to be meaningful. You straighten up only to feel him and his hardening cock pressed against your back. You bite your lip as you turn around to face him, looking up at your lover as he stares down at you with desire burning in his eyes. He gently caresses your cheek and softly asks, "May I kiss you?" You smile at his gentle approach to intimacy and you nod. He leans forward, softly pressing his lips to yours and then pulls away, "Was that okay?" You let out a soft laugh and place your hand on his chest, "Diluc... You don't have to be so gentle with me you know. I would do anything you want, no questions asked. I just want to make you happy and make you feel good." Your words make him pause, "Anything...I want?" You laugh softly again and repeat your words as you look up at him with love in your eyes, "Anything you want. No questions asked." He doesn't spare another minute in hoisting you up onto the table, immersing you both in hungry kisses and rough but sensual touches. You really have no idea what you've just sparked to life inside of him. Diluc can only hope you truly meant what you said because he wasn't going to hold back now.
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a/n: pretty sure i blacked out while writing diluc and aether’s sections🥴 i tried to keep them as in character as i possibly could and i think i succeeded? i hope you liked this, anon!
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jyoongim · 6 months
Note
Hello! May I request something similar to what’s been written before with alastor x vox’s little sister. But instead this time it’s alastor flirting with reader during overlord meetings and just saying stuff on the radio about her to swoon her- maybe he even started to court her too?
I actually just find this shit hilarious and I love torturing vox…
You never understood why Vox avoided coming to the Overlords’ meetings. It was making him look bad when he only sent you to represent the Vees district.
But alas, you were welcomed kindly by Carmilla and the others.
Especially the Radio Demon Alastor.
Over the years, your nervousness around the demon wane and you actually found him quite pleasant to be around.
Vox had always told you to stay away for Alastor, claiming the demon would just fuck with you to get a reaction out of him.
Like the obedient sister you were, you tried to listen to your big brother, but Alastor made it so hard to stay away.
At the Overlords meetings he often reserved a seat right beside him, keeping you filled in if you came in late or made jokes in your ear.
While you often tried to remain professional and regal, Alastor found you blushing and stuttering to be cute.
He never missed a chance to flirt with you throughout the meetings, snickering when you threw him a glare when reprimanded by Carmilla.
But that was only the beginning.
You were often awakened by the sound of Alastor’s radio broadcast (He gifted you a radio and how could you refuse a dedazzled radio?). You would be flustered hearing the red demon talk about you over Hell’s broadcast.
Compliments, joking, serenading, flirting directed towards you could be heard by all sinners.
It drove Vox mad that the Radio Demon seemed to have the hots for his sister.
He would disconnect all of Hell before letting Alastor be around you.
But Alastor was nothing if not persistent.
He lavished you with flowers, letters, trinkets and charms that suited your fancy. Of course Velvette giggled at the attention you were getting, while Vox’s systems were overheating. Like all things constant, he had finally worn you down.
Alastor had caught you out shopping on one of his outings, smiling wide when you let out sparks when he brought your hands to his lips.
”Its a lovely day my dear why don’t I treat you to lunch hmmm? You must be famished.” You barely had time to protest before he whisked you to a fancy restaurant.
You couldn’t help how your heart fluttered when the demon asked about your interests. He hid his distaste for your brother just enough for you that it made you giggle.
When Alastor admitted to wanting to court you, your systems went haywire. You were conflicted. You knew Vox wouldn’t like that you being in a relationship with Alastor, but you reeeaaallly like the demon.
You accepted and it was the best decision of your life.
And Vox’s worst nightmare.
He glitched out when you told him you had accepted Alastor’s advances.
Voxtech headquarters were often filled with gifts Alastor sent you.
Date nights had Vox’s clawing at his wires.
He hated seeing the smug look Alastor threw him when he would catch the two of you cuddling on the couch, watching an old movie.
Vox didn’t understand why you wanted to date him.
He was old-fashion, a fossil, did not fit your aesthetic, but you frowned saying you quite enjoyed how modest Alastor was. He actually wanted to get to know you and didnt have anything to gain from Vox.
He made you laugh, didn’t tiptoe around you.
He didnt care you were a pampered princess, he spoiled you more.
Vox would always treat you like his little sister, but you were a grown woman, you didnt need him to always look after you.
”Voxxy just give me this one favor ok? I know you two don’t like each other but pleeeaassee try to reframe from killing my boyfriend”
So Vox tried, he really did, but seeing Alastor be so so touchy with you made him itch.
You had fried Hell’s communication systems because Vox ruined dinner.
”He didnt have to kiss you!”
”You kiss Val all the time theres no difference?”
”It is different!”
”How?”
”We have an very professional agreement-”
”You two fuck!”
”Alastor would fuck you if given the chance! Why can’t you see he’s no good!”
”…”
”…”
”You didnt…”
”We didnt get far!”
”IM GOING TO KILL HIM”
”I WILL MAKE YOU INTO A FAX MACHINE!”
Alastor chuckled as you sulked in his arms. “He’s a big stupid sensor who think he can tell me what to do!”
You turned to Alastor, lip quivering “I really like you and Vox…Vox just don’t get it” you said sadly, leaning on his shoulder.
He hooked a claw under your chin and pressed a kiss to your forehead “Oh don worry dear. Hes just being how big brothers are. He can’t scare me off hehe no I quite like the investment I made”
He pressed his lips to yours and you melted in his touch.
Your brother would get over it…sooner or later.
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sheerfreesia007 · 15 days
Text
Gathering Courage
Pairing: Seungmin x Reader
Word count: 6,423
Content warnings: Fluff, suggestive
Summary: You’ve been in love with your capable assistant Kim Seungmin since he started working for your company. What happens when he starts receiving pressure from his family to date a family friend for his sister’s wedding but he’s in love with someone else? Will you help him gather the courage to confess? Will your heart survive this endeavor?
Gongjunim: Princess, Jagi: Sweetheart
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The small commemorative clock sitting on your desk clicked over to eight o’clock and you smiled softly as you heard the soft thud of a leather messenger bag hit the desk right outside your office. There was a knock at your office door before it opened slowly to reveal your overly competent assistant Kim Seungmin. He walked in holding a tall coffee cup, which no doubt held your normal coffee order, in one hand while a tablet was in the other hand that he was gazing at.
”Good Morning.” He said stoically as he placed the coffee cup on your desk on the starry night decorated coaster before walking around your desk to flop down into the armchair in front of it. 
“Good Morning Seungmin.” You responded pleasantly to him not bothering to correct his antics. The man had worked with you for almost ten years now and the two of you had gotten quite close and comfortable with each other. You knew if you did correct him he’d just slump further in the armchair not bothering to care much for your opinion. You know that he did care for your opinion but only on certain things, his posture not being one of them. You loved that he was able to be this comfortable with you and you knew when it came down to the business side of things he was always able to step up and carry his own weight and be the support you needed. It was duality to him that you cherished and had grown to love.
You reached for your coffee cup and raised it to your lips to take a sip as you gazed over the newest email you received this morning from Changbin, a close friend of yours that helped you with any security that you needed for any events you hosted. Just as the hot drink reached your tongue you gagged loudly in shock, this was definitely not your normal drink order. Seungmin laughed loudly from his spot in the armchair as he watched you stare at the coffee cup offendedly before shooting a glare at him. “What is this garbage?” You asked him disgustedly and he smirked softly at you from across your desk.
”Your source of caffeine this morning.” He said smugly and you glowered at him as he shrugged his shoulders at you. “Your doctor said you have to cut back on sweets. I’m just helping you out.” He said importantly and you scowled at him regretting telling Seungmin anything about your latest doctor appointment when he had asked. He had sweetly disguised his question as one of concern for your health but you really should’ve known better that it would just bite you in the ass.
”More like trying to poison me. Did you scrape this off the bottom of the communal coffee pot?” You asked as your top lip curled in distaste causing him to laugh loudly once more.
”I’m saving you from an early grave of too much sugar.” He taunted you softly and you glared at him.
”The doctor said I needed to cut back not completely cut it out of my life.” You snapped at him and he smirked softly again at you.
”Agree to disagree.” He said nonchalantly before standing from the armchair. “Drink up, you’re not getting another one until noon after lunch. And you’ve got at least three mind numbing meetings this morning.” He said with a wave of his hand over his shoulder.
”Seungmin! This is horrible, I can’t drink this!” You cried out to him as he kept walking out of your office.
”Then suffer.” He snipped at you over his shoulder as he winked at you. You gritted your teeth at him from your desk chair fighting the urge to hurl the cup at his head. You wondered if you could find another assistant as competent as him on short notice, sighing loudly you knew that you wouldn’t be able to find anyone else like him and kicked yourself for training him so well to your preferences.
Looking back at the coffee cup in your hand you curled your top lip once more before taking another sip of the black coffee preferring something much more diluted and sweeter than this sludge. You gagged loudly after swallowing and could hear Seungmin’s answering chuckle from outside your office.
*-*-*-*
You watched Seungmin talking on his cellphone from the back seat of the black company car. You had just finished your fourth meeting of the morning and you were eager to get to lunch before stopping at your favorite coffee place and picking up your normal iced coffee afternoon pick up drink. Seungmin paced away from the car and you watched concerned as he flung out his hand looking aggravated by whatever it was he was talking about. He suddenly stopped when he faced the open door of the car and stared darkly straight at you as you furrowed your eyebrows at him. He nodded once and said something into the phone before hanging it up and slipping it back into his pocket then stalked to the car.
Once he effortlessly slipped inside and slammed the car door you turned to face the front of the car to nod to the driver who then pulled away from the curb. The car traveled slowly through the afternoon traffic and you gazed out the window to watch all the pedestrians of the busy city. You wondered if it would be too soon to ask if Seungmin was alright, you knew that when he grew aggravated or angry with something he liked to take his time to get over the initial anger. But the way he had stared darkly through your eyes made you shiver slightly, it had seemed so menacingly and angry that it made goosebumps rise along your skin. Throwing caution to the wind you took in a soft breath and turned to him.
”Are you alright?” You asked curiously, trying to soften your tone as much as you could for him. He huffed softly as he stared out of the window and you waited patiently for his response. It took him a few quiet moments to respond and when he finally did you were not expecting the words he said.
”I need to take a week off in the beginning of December. December third to the eleventh.” He said stoically and you flinched at his words before you settled back in the seat quietly. You mind began to race with all the reasons for his time off, Seungmin had rarely taken time off and when he did it was only for a few days not for nearly ten days straight. Was there something you had missed, was he upset about something you did or how the company was running? “Breathe Gongjunim.” He said softly into your ear as he leaned over to your side causing you to suck in a sharp breath before your head turned and your eyes stared up at his smirking face. “Relax, it’s just for my older sister’s wedding.”
”Oh.” You said softly before you began to nod your head slowly as your brain finally began to catch up and function. He was still leaning close to you in the back seat and your eyes darted from his smirking lips up to his sparkling teasing eyes before darting away completely. “Of course, was just surprised my workaholic assistant was asking for that many days off.” You taunted him softly and he chuckled dryly at your words.
”Well my boss is a bit of a slave driver. So kind of have to be a workaholic to fit her needs.” He hummed out in a low tone as his lips quirked up at the corner in a lopsided grin while you gasped and whipped your head back to glare at him indignantly.
”I am not a slave driver.” You insisted heatedly as you leaned closer to him shortening the distance between the two of you. You didn’t see his eyes dart down to your pouting lips or the softening features of his face when he saw how adamant you were that you didn’t make him a workaholic. “I give all of our employees ample vacation and sick time. I make sure that they’re insurance is full coverage and that they have mental health programs to help aid them.” You argue heatedly and he chuckled softly at you as he nodded his head.
”Then let me take my vacation time.” He teased you softly which caused you to jerk back from him as he grinned widely at you as he leaned further into your space. You blinked at him a few times as if dazed for a moment and he watched as your brain finally caught up with you.
”Of course you can take your vacation.” You answered as if it was a no brainer. “I’d never deny you a vacation. I was just surprised.” You said and he nodded his head at your words while still grinning.
”It’s going to be the first time we’re away from each other for that long.” He said teasingly and your eyes darted up to focus on his teasing face and you huffed before crossing your arms over your chest and turning away from him to stare out the window much to his amusement.
”We’ll survive.” You snipped out and he chuckled softly at your attitude change before he leant over your shoulder to whisper in your ear.
”But will you survive without me?” He asked and you sat there stunned wondering the same thing.
*-*-*-*
The weeks after that seemed to all blend in together for you as your business kept you busy and you started to get into the busy time of promotional season. You and Seungmin were soon bogged down with meetings of other businesses as they contracted you to help them host promotional parties for their products. You had almost forgotten completely about Seungmin’s vacation as your mind was kept in a whirlwind of constant stimulation of work.
You were staring at a few display boards of party themes that you had thought of for Minho LLC. There was to be a meeting this afternoon and you were still unsure of some of the themes not feeling overly confident with them. You didn’t hear the thud of Seungmin’s messenger bag, nor did you hear him enter your office before he was standing at your holding out a coffee cup in front of you. You scowled softly at the coffee cup but still took it from his hand, it had been the same black coffee every morning for the past month. Thankfully he took pity on you and would get your normal iced coffee order with milk and sugar in the afternoon but every morning it was black coffee and only black coffee.
Luckily for you your taste buds had adjusted quickly and you no longer gagged when you drank the strong bitter liquid, but you still curled your lip and turned your nose up at it every morning. Seungmin was quiet as you both stood in front of the themed boards that you were going to present to Lee Minho in an hour. You turned your head to look over at him when he remained quiet which was not the norm for him, usually he would have made a comment or said something about the boards to give his opinion.
He stood there staring at the boards but not really seeing them and you frowned softly as you raised your cup and took a sip of your drink. Grimacing slightly you watched as he just stood there gazing into the distance. He was dressed in his normal attire of a neat business suit, this one was a royal blue that had a matching tie sitting on his white pressed button up shirt.
”Good morning Seungmin.” You greet him and he frowns softly before turning his head down to stare at you. His eyes clear instantly and he smiles softly at you before nodding his head.
”Good morning.” He responds before turning his head back to the boards. “You should switch the second one with the third one, it flows better from theme to theme.” He says as he tilts his head to the side and you do the same before nodding your head as you move to do just that, trusting his judgment completely.
”Good idea.” You state as you take a step back to his side and gaze at the boards once again agreeing with him that it does flow better now and looks more cohesive. You take another sip of your coffee and curb the lip curl from the taste, Seungmin’s soft chuckle pulls your attention away from the boards and you turn to look at him curiously.
”You’re getting used to the taste of it.” He said, sounding triumphant and you rolled your eyes at him.
”Yes well, when my assistant insists that I give up my morning dose of sugar just to get my caffeine intake, I kind of have to.” You grumble out to him and he beams down at you, definitely looking triumphant now. He leans towards you with that wide grin on his face and his sparkling eyes taking in your face with quick darts.
”It’s all to make sure you’re around forever.” He says softly and you scoff while shaking your head at him before walking to your desk.
”I’m not dying Seungmin, get that thought out of you head.” You snip at him before making it to your desk chair and sitting down in it as you shoot him a glare. “Unless that’s what you want to happen by denying me my sugar.” 
“Oh I’ll give you a different form of sugar.” He quips quietly and your eyes narrow while focusing on him as he stalks to your desk with a heated look in his eyes. You stare at him wide eyed as you take in his form, he’s staring at you with dark heated eyes as his body seems to loom larger than he actually is and you’re instantly affected by the image he presents. Your thighs clench and squeeze together as your core clenches around nothing in desire for him. The way he looks so dominant and predatory has your mind fogging and body heating with just for him.
Just as he’s about to reach your desk his cellphone rings loudly in his pocket and it halts his movement instantly. He groans under his breath as he tilts his head back with a pained look on his face. “Not now.” He groans out frustratedly and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “I have to take this, I'm sorry.” He says as he digs his cell phone out of his pocket and sighs when he sees who's calling. He quickly answers the phone as he turns and walks out of your office. 
You sit there at your desk shocked feeling a little disappointed that he had to answer his phone call. Over the ten years that he had worked for your company and been your assistant you had grown to care deeply for Seungmin. Not only was he impressive with his work ethic and his way to solve any issue that came up, but he was also handsome and when he wanted to be he could be the sweetest most caring man you had met. It hadn't taken you long to develop feelings for him and you had soon found yourself falling deeper and deeper into your feelings for him. It had gotten to the point that you feared you were in love with him and you knew you didn't want to picture your life without him. Which is why you had chosen to hide your feelings for him, you knew that being his boss would be frowned upon and you didn't want to jeopardize your current friendship and lose him all together. The sound of your desk phone beeping pulled you from your thoughts and you quickly shook your head before answering it.
*-*-*-*
It's another week gone by when you start to notice something off about Seungmin, it started on Monday when he forgot an important file for one of your meetings that you were having in the Hwang incorporations building. He had been so apologetic about forgetting it but you had easily reassured him that you could do without it since you had the work saved on your laptop as it was and could project it onto the conference room screen that way. 
But then on Tuesday you noticed that he had forgotten to get the mail down to the mail room on time and you had missed a deadline for a contract that would’ve brought in a lot of money for the company. Once again he was very regretful and apologetic but you had reassured him that it was alright and there was always another contract would come along. 
It was by then that you started to keep a closer eye on him and started to notice that whenever he got a phone call during the day he would get distant and in his head to the point that he would forget things. You were just returning from a lunch meeting with Changbin and as you were walking through your floor weaving in between the desks of your employees you spotted Seungmin on the phone once more. You frowned deeply when you saw him running his hands through his hair in agitation as he talked to whoever was on the phone with him. You slowed your pace as you watched him aggressively hang up his phone before dropping it onto his desk with a scoff of disgust.
Placing the bag of food that you had ordered for him and brought back from the restaurant on his desk you stood in front of him as he whipped his head up at you with a look of surprise. He sighed softly when he saw your eyes surveying him quietly before he twisted his lips into a lopsided pout.
”Come eat in my office. I’d like to speak to you about something.” You said to him softly and he sighed once more before nodding. “Leave the cell phone at your desk, don’t want any distractions.” You said over your shoulder as you walked into your office not looking back to see if he would follow you.
Seungmin walked into your office holding his bag of food looking like a kid who was entering the principal’s office. You stood over by the small round table that sat next to the large windows in your office, you turned and gestured to the spot across the table from you and Seungmin nodded before slowly closing the door behind him. You watched as he tiredly walked over to the table and took a seat, you took your own seat and waited for him to begin eating before you decided on what to say to him. 
”Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you or are you going to make me play twenty questions?” You asked him as he ate, he looked up at you with a worried look on his face as you leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m worried about you Seung. This is a new side to you and while it’s not an unwanted one I know that you’re beating yourself up about these little mistakes that you’re making. Tell me what’s going on.” You said softly to him almost pleading with him. Seungmin chewed his food silently for a moment as his eyes darted back and forth on your face before sighing heavily.
”It’s my Mom.” He admitted softly and you frowned at his words confused and now very worried that something was wrong with his mother that was affecting him.
”Do you need to take time off to go be with her? Is she sick? Does she need a doctor that she’s not able to see? I can call in some favors and get her what she needs quicker.” You began to ramble as you leaned forward resting your elbows on the table worriedly. You whipped your head up when you heard Seungmin’s dry chuckle and saw that he was shaking his head back and forth.
”Why are you so sweet to me?” He asked bewildered as he stared at you with wide eyes. “I’ve been nothing but a forgetful mess lately and you’re more worried about me than the company.” He said with a raised eyebrow. Your face flushed with embarrassment and you pushed back from the table back into your seat.
”I’m worried about you.” You admitted sternly as your brow furrowed over your eyes. “Something is affecting you so much that it’s making you forgetful at work. I care about your wellbeing. The company will always be here but I need to make sure that you’re okay.” You tell him adamantly and he stares at you with wide eyes and his mouth parted slightly.
”You worry about me?” He asks quietly and you scoff loudly at him as your face pulls into a look of incredulity. 
“Of course I worry about you!” You snap at him feeling anger rush through you. “Why do you think otherwise?” You ask bewildered yourself. “You’re someone I care an awful lot about.” You admit softly and Seungmin’s eyes connect with yours causing you to gasp softly at the shocked adoring look in his eyes.
”My mother wants me to start dating a family friend before the wedding so that I can bring her as my plus one.” He admits and your body flinches at his words as your arms cross instinctually across your torso. You know subconsciously you’re trying to protect yourself, your poor heart is twisting and clenching hurtfully in your chest as you stare at him silently.
”Oh.” You say dejectedly and you try to pull yourself back together in front of him as his watchful eyes gaze at you quietly taking in all of your reactions and expressions.
”I’m in love with someone else though.” He blurts out and your body flinches viscerally at his confession as your heart shatters in your chest.
”Oh, have you told this person?” You ask him softly as your hand rests on the table and your fingers begin to fidget and tap out a soft beat against the polished surface.
”No, I haven’t told her. I’ve been waiting for the right moment.” He said softly as his eyes tried to connect with yours, you know he’s trying to make a connection but you just can’t force yourself to stare into his eyes and not let him see how much your heart has shattered for him.
”Well, if you want to take this woman to your sister’s wedding you should confess to her so that your Mom can leave you be.” You advise him softly and begin to stand from the table but Seungmin grabs your hand softly with his, causing you to stare down at him as he gazes up at you. You feel the hole in your chest throb with how he’s gazing up at you with admiring eyes silently begging you to stay with him.
”Gongjunim” he says softly and your face twists with heartbreak for a second before you suck in a breath steeling yourself against the pain.
”You shouldn’t call me that anymore if you plan to confess to someone.” You say softly as you begin to pull away from him, you turn away trying to hide your sorrow filled face.
“I need your help.” He blurts out suddenly and you turn back to face him with a furrowed eyebrow as you watch him silently from your spot. “I need help confessing.” He admits and then hangs his head quietly. You stare at him bewildered in silent shocked stupor for a few long moments. He shyly lifts his head and sees you standing there staring at him, he suddenly softens his eyes and pouts out his bottom lip and you groan loudly before tossing your head back. You were weak against his puppy dog eyes and he knew that.
”How old are you again?” You ask incredulously and he chuckles softly before you feel him grab onto your hand. Your body jolts at the touch, not hearing him stand from his chair or move closer to you. Tilting your head back down you stare at him silently wondering if your poor heart could take this torture, or if you’re going to completely obliterate it during this process of helping him.
”Old enough that I should know how to do this but I don’t.” He admits and you huff at him before groaning softly and then nod your head at him as he grins widely at you.
”Fine, I’ll help you. We could brainstorm ideas on how you’d like to do it later tonight or whenever you’re free.” You offer and he eagerly nods his head before he grimaces and ducks his head.
”I can’t tonight I’m meeting my sister and her fiancé for dinner.” He admits and you wave your hand, that’s not held captive in his, in dismissal.
”Then another time. Maybe you’ll figure it out on your own and be able to confess without my help.” You says hopeful and he looks at you with  another puppy dog pout causing you to sigh softly at him before he grins widely once more and pulls you into a tight hug. When he releases you you feel your heart slowly begin to piece itself back together in your hollow chest as you walk back to your desk and he walks back to finish his lunch. You still wonder if your poor little heart is going to make it out of this ordeal intact or vaporized.
*-*-*-*
Another few weeks have gone by and you find yourself sitting at the same small table in your office next to the large windows laughing as Seungmin tells you another story about his childhood that you’ve heard time and time again. He’s in a much better mood lately ever since you’ve started to help him gather ideas and the courage to confess to the woman he’s in love with. After that day that he had confessed that he was in love with someone he had gone and met with his sister and her fiancé and came back an almost changed man. It seemed the meeting with his sister had gone well and changed his outlook on things with his Mom. Which you were happy about because you no longer worried too much about him being irritated or aggravated due to his Mom’s pressure.
But these evening meetings with him were starting to become too much for you and your battered heart. When the office was quiet after everyone had gone home the two of you would be holed up in your office going over different ways that he could confess to this woman of his dreams. He had told you all about her, she was strong, independent and a woman who he greatly admired for her tenacity. He admitted that he has been friends with her for a long time and had known almost at the first time he met her that he’d be in love with her, she was just so awe inspiring to him that he couldn’t help it. 
Hearing all of this about the woman he was in love with hurt you greatly but you were glad and happy for him that he found someone who he could feel like this for. You were glad that he was able to love her so grandly but you admitted to him that while you were happy for him you wished he’d be able to break from his conservative nature and confess to her. He had agreed with you and told you that he wished the same but it was hard when she was so much to him that he didn’t feel as if he measured up. You had shot down those thoughts fairly quickly when you heard them telling him that he had to be delusional if he thought he wasn’t just as wonderful as this woman.
You had told him that he was just as important and awe inspiring as this woman. You had unconsciously admitted to him how you viewed him to be someone who was so dedicated to his work and hard working, a gentleman among a crowd of unsavory men, someone you loved to see the softer side of when he allowed you. You hadn’t noticed after praising him that he would be softer with you while at work and when you did notice that he was being sweet with you your heart would thud heavily in your chest with a hopeful flutter.
But it wasn’t until your meetings with him to go over what he should say to this woman to confess to her that your heart almost gave out. Like tonight for example as you sit in your chair staring out at the lit up cityscape outside your office you can’t help but be lulled into a soft romantic headspace.
”Earth to Gongjunim.” Seungmin says as he comes back from throwing away your empty take out containers. You smile lazily up at him as you roll your head on your neck to look at him. Humming softly your eyelids fall shut for a few moments just absorbing the peaceful cozy moment with him. He chuckles softly at you as he pulls his chair around the table to sit next to you. “Feeling good Jagi?” He asks softly and you hum once more as you feel him press his side into yours and you rest your head tiredly on his shoulder as your eyes fall on the lights of the city.
”Beautiful isn’t it?” you ask softly almost in awe of it all. Seungmin hums softly in response and you grow bold as this peace fills you up. “You know I always dreamed of this moment.” You confess softly. “Sharing all of my success with someone special to me.” You say softly and you feel Seungmin tense gently against you.
”Was that person always me?” He asks curiously in a soft tone to match yours. You grin widely before turning to face him and you nod your head at his question.
”I think you became part of that dream the moment I met you.” You confess softly to him and watch as his eyes soften down at you. You begin to smile brightly up at him when suddenly you remember why he’s still here in the office with you. Your smile falls from your lips suddenly and he furrows his brows at your sudden change.
”Jagi?” He asks softly and you shake your head as it dips down not wanting to face him suddenly. Your hands come up to grip his button up shirt tightly in their grip before you shake your head once more and take in a shaky breath. He cups your face gently and tilts it up to look into it with worried eyes. “What is it, Jagi?”
”Please don’t call me that when you’re in love with someone else.” You plead with him softly as you feel tears begin to pool in your eyes. “I don’t think I can handle that right now. You have to give me time to come to terms with losing you.” You say softly in a broken cry. His arms come to wrap around you and you shake your head quickly at the feeling of his arms around you. “No, please.” You say softly and he tries to pull you closer to him but you pull away and he stares at you with hurt flashing across his face “I think we should stop here for tonight. I’m gonna head home.” You tell him softly as you stand from your chair and begin to move to your desk with a wave of your hand. “You should get home too, it’s getting late. Have one of the drivers take you home.” You say trying to distance yourself as you feel your heart beginning to crack inside your chest.
”Wait, please. You’re misunderstanding.” He tries to tell you and you nod your head agreeing with his words.
”I know.” You say with a quiet finality before you look over at him and take in another shaky breath. “I know I got caught up in the moment. You should prepare to confess to her, you’ve only got another week or so until the wedding and she’ll need to book travel to match yours.” You say nodding your head. “Lock up the office will you?” You ask softly as you grab your briefcase and jacket before rushing out of your office thankful that it was the weekend and you could spend that time alone mending and piecing your heart back together.
*-*-*-*
On Monday you walk into the office and take in the quiet of it all as you walk out of the elevator onto your floor. You know no one else will be here this early and you silently weave your way through the cubicles towards your office, you halt your steps when you spot Seungmin sitting at his desk typing away at his computer. He looks up suddenly and sees you standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, your heart thuds heavily in your chest still sore and battered from your cozy moment with him on Friday night.
Shaking your head slightly you clear your sadness from your head and begin walking again towards your office. You make it quickly past Seungmin’s desk and as you enter your office you go to close your office door but it stops heavily causing you to whirl around to see Seungmin towering over you in the doorway with his hand braced firmly against the door. You stare up at him surprised before he crowds you further into your office and shuts the door behind him so that he can lean back against it and survey you quietly.
You nod your head at him quietly before turning and walking to your desk to set your briefcase down along with hanging up your coat on your coat rack. You slip out of your coat and move towards your coat rack but Seungmin is there already taking the coat from your hands.
”Let me.” He says softly and you look up at him trying to ease your sore heart as you nod your head at him.
”Thank you.” You tell him softly and he smiles warmly at you before nodding his head at you. You move to sit in your desk chair and begin to boot up your computer to begin going through emails.
”You’ve got only one meeting this morning.” He tells you and you frown softly as you don’t remember having scheduled any meetings this morning wanting to stay in your office sequestered away from everyone else to help ease your heart back into seeing Seungmin.
”With who?” You ask confused and curious as to who this meeting is with.
”Me.” He says confidently and you turn your head to watch him walk over to you and lean his hand against your desk while leaning in close to you. “Talk to me Gongjunim.” He says softly and you gasp quietly at the nickname.
”Seungmin-“ you begin to stop him from repeating his mistake on Friday but he pushes on and talks over you.
“I know you may not believe me right now but that’s okay, I’m willing to spend the rest of my life convincing you of how I feel about you.” He says softly to you and your eyes widen as you stare up at him as he gazes down at you. “Last Friday night when we were looking at the city lights together you asked me if they were beautiful and I told you they were but I lied.” He confessed softly and you furrow your eyebrows at him confused. “I wasn’t looking at the city lights when I said that, I was looking at you.” He whispers to you and you feel your heart rejoice with his admission.
”Seungmin-“ you begin again to speak up to him but he shakes his head quickly and you quiet once more.
”I’m in love with you. You’re the love of my life that I’ve been telling you about.” He confesses and your eyes widen into big saucers as your breath stutters in your chest while your heart begins to race. “I’ve never found the right moment to tell you until last Friday night. But then you misunderstood me when I was trying to find the courage to confess to you. I love you Jagi, wholly and completely. I don’t want to be with anyone else but you.” He says and you nearly melt as his hand cups your cheek gently. “Let me love you.” He whispers before he presses his lips sweetly against yours.
Your answering hum is enough for him as he pulls you from your chair and lifts you up onto your desk before slotting himself between your legs and capturing your lips once more as his hands come up to cup both of your cheeks and tilt your head to the side while his tongue sweeps into your mouth. The two of you are soon breathless and you're clutching at him as if he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth.
”Wanna play hooky? Your schedule is clear today.” He whispers softly against your lips and you chuckled softly at his playfulness coming out.
”Now where did my workaholic assistant go?” You ask bemused and he grins wickedly against your mouth before kissing you once again.
”He’s got a different kind of work to do today.” He whispered against your lips and you tilt your head at his words.
”What other work?” You ask and he smirks deliciously down at you.
”Convincing his boss to go on a nine day vacation with him.” He says sultrily against your mouth and you gasp loudly at his words before you smile brightly up at him as your eyes sparkle with delight.
”Let’s go, he's got a lot of work ahead of him.” You whisper against his mouth and he’s quickly shutting your computer down and guiding you back out of your office and down to the company car with his hand firmly planted on your ass.
SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha
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celeste-clearwater-06 · 5 months
Text
heartbeat (thorin oakenshield x female!modern! reader)
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gif by me!!
desc. - reader puts her CPR lessons to good use when thorin's on the brink of death. (inspired by an imagine by @imaginexhobbit but make it sad🫶 also i listened to "farewell to dobby" while reading this, it adds so muchhh)
warnings - angst 💔
word count - 2.7k
For most of the time you’d been traveling with Thorin and his merry band of warriors, you could only account a few times you provided yourself useful to the group. Bofur was a whittler and toy maker, Oin a healer, Ori a scribe. Thorin and his sister-sons, the rightful heir to a kingdom. Even Bilbo had squeezed his way into a position of burglary, though he was hardly fit, and was still fighting to prove himself.
You?
A few stories around the campfire. Some questions answered about where you’d appeared from out of nowhere in particular. Mouth watering modern food recipes you babbled on about, over rabbit stew Bombur happily served on the cold nights on the road. And sure, you were getting good with a sword, but not nearly as skillful as the fearless fighter Dwalin.
You could see the malevolence and distaste in Thorin’s eyes when Gandalf decided for himself that you would make a fine addition to the group. After all, some otherworldly stranger happening upon them just as their fateful quest began was no coincidence. To him it meant something. But to the leader of the group? Danger? Deadweight? You couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it settled behind his cold, steel-blue eyes and swelled whenever he watched you fail miserably at every task given.
You simply weren’t built for a world like this.
Thorin didn’t hate you. He wasn’t necessarily fond of you either. And how you longed to fit in, impress him maybe. Break past whatever tough exterior that he used to keep a distance between the two of you. Pushing too much would surely annoy him, so you opted to keep to yourself, sitting back and placing yourself near Gandalf and the witty Bilbo Baggins, who seemed to have walked a few miles in your own shoes. If he could wear them, that is. Hoping maybe one day the King under the mountain would come around. Maybe.
But now, soaring over the horizon of a morning sun and above the towering mountains, on the feathered back of a massive bird, Bilbo had proven himself in his bravery, and you were alone and useless in your skills.
You were seated atop the same eagle as the halfling, right behind another that carried Thorin’s limp body in its talons, wind and the worried cries of his nephews rushing through your hair and past your ears. Azog’s fight was not an easy one. Not that you could do much anyways, dangling uselessly from a blazing pine tree and fingers slipping from its scorching branches. But Thorin, ever the brave, was taken down quickly.
Thank the lord for Gandalf’s endless alliances.
Now, the eagles circled a plateau, oddly sticking out from above high treetops like a sore thumb, and began to descend to its slanted surface where each member of the company jumped off. Some destination this was, hundreds of feet off the ground. You’d think they might find a safer spot to land this band of underground dwelling travelers but beggars can’t be choosers. At least you were out of harm's way for the time being. The eagle you and Bilbo rode flew low enough for you to hop off and land safely on the cliff’s surface, then turn and see Thorin, unconscious and unmoving, set down gently in front of the rest of the group.
They all crowded around him, shouting and shaking his body vigorously, but to no avail. Your stomach dropped when you heard one of them mutter a word that sounded like “dead”.
You rushed over, just getting a few glimpses of his face from behind the heads of thick hair and heavy fur coats circling him like vultures, Bilbo at your heels and following in curiosity.
“He’s not breathing!”
“Thorin! Thorin, wake up!” A hand tapped on the side of his face.
You immediately began shouting to clear some room. The sea of worried dwarves parted for you, just enough room to sling your haversack off your shoulders and lean down on your knees, bringing an ear to his mouth. They were right. Not a breath to be heard. Nor a pulse, you discovered, after placing your fingers to the side of his cold neck.
“No…no no, no.”
The company shared confused mutters and looks, worry lines still etched like canyons in their faces as they watched you clamor to unclasp his thick cloak and pull away as much clothing as you could from his chest.
Now, you were no doctor. Not even a medical student for that matter. Just barely scraping by with an art degree and two, low paying part-time jobs back home. Wherever that was. But, thankfully, those required CPR lessons back in junior high suddenly came rushing back to you, and you were gonna put to the best use you could.
You locked your elbows, flattened your palms, and then hastily pressed against the brute of his firm chest. Mahal, it was stubborn, and the armored shirt between your hands and his heart was no help, but acting quickly spared no time for shedding any more of his clothes. Again and again you pressed, one, two, just how the instructor taught you with her quick tongue and loud voice.
“An even pace! You’re going to lose him!”
The recall made your head spin, especially considering it might have been a bit comedic at the time, trying to revive an armless mannequin on the tile floor of your classroom. But under the steady pressure of your palms was a real person, teetering on the edge of life and death.
Gandalf landed somewhere behind you, being the last to touch ground, but he was forgotten in the sea of deep voices asking what you could possibly be doing.
By the 16th compression, you were beginning to break a sweat. Twenty, twenty one…
“Lass… what are ya’ doing?” Bofur's voice, usually friendly and jovial, was a low and cowering one. His question left the rest of the group quiet. You heard, but you didn’t answer. That would be for later when this was over. Preferably with a happy ending.
Thirty.
You moved to pinch Thorin's nose shut, tilting his head just slightly off the ground with the other hand tangled in his hair and breathed into his open mouth.
Any and all bewildered muttering was lost on the focus you had, to watch for any movement in his relaxed face.
You breathed again, and then bent over to listen. Nothing.
Now things began to get more grave than you’d taken them before.
You moved back to begin compressions again, this time pressing harder and deeper against his heart. You lifted a forearm to wipe the sweat gathering on your brow.
In your class, you were supposed to take turns, and rotate when one got tired so they could properly compress. But this wasn’t class.
Thorin was beneath the weight of your hands and his face was losing color.
“Come on… come on Thorin.”
You lost count after the 19th shove downwards, adrenaline kicking in and tears blurring the corners of your eyes as Thorin convulsed.
A warm hand settled on your shoulder above.
“Lass… he-” you smacked it away, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach like fire that you spat out.
“No! No he’s not, n-not yet.”
Again, you breathed into his airway, heavy and even, like you were supposed to. You were doing everything right. So why wasn’t it working? Why wasn’t he breathing?
This was the quietest you had ever heard the company. Only birds and the sound of your exhausted, heaving breaths and choking sobs floating in the cool morning air.
You moved back to compressions, starting again, one, two, three. You were begging him, hysterically pleading his unresponsive body to kick start back up.
“Please Thorin. Come on.”
Now tears rolled down the apple of your cheeks, warm and bothersome and blinding, falling over your hands and his clothes. Your arms ached at the now desperate shoving against his heart. You looked pathetic, like a widow begging for scraps of Thorin’s lifeline, something to get him through. The ground dug harshly into your knees, bruising and irritating them through the pants as they dully scraped with each movement.
Twenty two.
You were slowing down, growing weary and tired from the work. But it wasn’t good enough. At this point, with the silent stares, you knew that even the ever stubborn dwarves had lost hope for their leader some time ago. And you had too, but now you were already getting past the twenty-fifth press down. Curse the lot of them, just staring down at you with pity as you sniffed and wiped the snot and tears from your face. And curse the beauty of the morning sun peaking over the mountains, so regal and beautiful, and staring down at the morose show of a sad little human weeping to herself.
“Please… please, God you idiot. Running down there like that.”
A cry frogged its way out of the back of your throat, raspy and gurgling. You lift his head for the third time, sniffed in and then pushed your shaking breath as hard as you could manage, pulled away, then back down to press your quivering lips upon his cold ones and-
A breath. Soft and faint, just barely there, and it slightly cooled the tears on your face.
You froze, staring down at Thorin to see his eyes twitch just slightly underneath their lids. Another exhale fled him, his time much more apparent, and his brows furrowed as he stirred awake. The gasps and shouts from the company, scrambling over and circling him like they did before to help him up as he came to.
“He’s alive!”
“A miracle! Bless the Valor!”
You lifted yourself from the ground, onto your feet, but the shock of your attempts actually working, and exhaustion, just left you to stumble backwards onto your butt, crying harder than before, in relief and joy, nonetheless sobbing like your life depended on it. You gave into the fatigue of your muscles, the tiredness from the adrenaline, and exhaustion from your sobs, and fell onto your back, covering your eyes with a forearm with the other limply laying on the ground next to you. Bilbo kneeled next to you and laid his small hand over yours, watching as the king was pulled to his feet and grimacing at the noises of his jovial party celebrating with shouting and laughing.
“You did it,” The burglar said quietly, just enough for you to hear. It wasn’t just amazement in his voice, but reassurance. Something to ground you, like the warm squeeze of his hand.
You trembled, breaths coming in and out with a shiver.
Thorin’s dazed when you slowly sit up off the ground to look at him, swaying about and being jostled as each excited dwarf embraced and jumped around him, and an arm shouldered over Kìli’s to keep his balance.
“You were dead.” Dwalin’s normally stony, hard-set face, was graced with the most horrified look you’d ever seen in your life, eyes widened and brows twisted upwards in awe. That seemed to settle everyone down enough, and shake Thorin from the rest of his stupor. Once again, the world around you was blessed with silence that you hadn’t gotten a taste of since you arrived. It was short lived.
“Dead?” Thorin asked, incredulous and confused.
“Ye’ weren’t breathing lad!” Gloin chimed in, “we thought you were gone!”
The king’s eyes narrow, and shift between the members of his party, blinking away a head rush.
“How is that possible?” The second set of words he’d spoken since he screamed Azog’s name. Thorin’s voice was low and rasping. He slowly turned, following the astounded, wide-eyed stares from the surrounding dwarves, boring into you like you were some God.
You sniffled, wiping at your reddened, runny nose with the sleeve of your shirt.
He lifted a jeweled hand to graze over his heart, where you were reviving him, just staring at the sad sight of your tearful eyes.
“She saved ya’, Thorin,” Balin’s voice is serious and somber, breaking the silence, “Brough’ ya’ back from near death. Mahal knows how.”
Thorin’s eyes grew sharp, brows furrowing and piercing into you, where you pulled yourself to sit on your knees. His fingers tightened around the cloth where his hand laid, clutching at his chest.
“You,” he gruffed, “You did this?”
“I-I… I didn’t know if it was gonna work.” Your throat tightened and squeezed. Great, even more tears flowed down your face. Thorin’s eyes held the same glint that made your stomach twist with embarrassment and shame. The least he could do is offer a nod of gratitude towards you. Instead, he tore free from the group, ripping his arm away off his nephew’s shoulder and stumbling towards you like a drunken fool, with thudding footsteps.
Dwalin calls after him uselessly, just hanging back and letting the scene play out.
When he stops in front of you, eyes firey and broad chest heaving breaths in and out, standing a few inches over where you’re knelt, all you can do is try not to look away. You’re glad you hadn’t.
A boa-tight grip took hold of your heart and tightened when you saw his features soften, worry lines and crow's feet disappearing in the appearance of a small, incredulous smile. His softened eyes lined themselves with the hint of tears catching like jewels in the morning sun. Thorin dropped down to his knees to meet your height in a hug that you could never have prepared yourself for. You freeze for a moment, completely dumbfounded. Thorin, fearless, merciless, King Under the Mountain was hugging, no, embracing you, with the force of a thousand winds and strength of ten thousand men, because he was alive, thanks to you. And you hugged him back, pulling closer than you already were, and grasping at the back of his shirt and cried into his shoulder. The dwarves cheered in excitement behind Thorin. Through the yelling and praise, you can hear Thorin’s low voice next to your ear.
“I cannot repay this deed. Thank you.”
You pull away to see the kindest, warmest smile your eyes had ever been blessed to lay upon. It knocked the breath from your lungs. The corners of his eyes and the arch of his nose wrinkled upwards. It suited his face much more than the cold and stoic stares he was prone to.
“I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.” Was all you could huff out.
“Yet I did. I misunderstood you greatly.” Thorin wiped a tear from the side of your face, “You make a member of this group. My life is indebted to you. And you,”
He peered over your shoulder at a wide-eyed Bilbo Baggins, standing just past your shoulder. You helped him stand from the ground, arm linked in his to meet the hobbit.
“You nearly got yourself killed,” he slipped free from your arm, and started toward Bilbo, just as he did you. “Did I not say you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild?”
Your face fell, akin to Bilbo’s solemn look. He stood there, taking the string of insults like a punching bag.
“That you had no place amongst us?”
And then he pulled the hobbit in just as he did you.
“I have never been so wrong, in all my life.”
Your heart reeled, and this time you smiled along with the rest of the company’s rejoices, watching the surprised grin spread across Bilbo’s face. Thorin pulled away.
“I am sorry I doubted you.”
“No, no. I would have doubted me, too.”
A hand planted itself on your shoulder, and you turned to look at Gandalf and his sagely smile.
“You’ve made yourself quite the home in these dwarves' hearts, young lady,” he said. It was comedic, the way his silvery hair and beard dramatically blew in the wind, “Perhaps once this has settled, you stay with them. I think you’d find yourself more than welcome in Erebor’s Halls.”
You hummed in thought. The band of travelers were gathered on the edge of the plateau, looking out in the distance towards the peak of the Lonely Mountain, calling their name through the mist.
Thorin turned back to look at you over his shoulder with a gentle smile, and nodded his head to you in a silent thanks. The ghost of a blush spread across his face.
“I just might.”
(aaaaaah! what did you guys think??? :3 it feels wonderful to get a full fic out after so long, ive had this idea in my head for dayyys ugh 💔 please send me some requests loves, i'm in desperate need of some comfort fics! don't forget to reblog and like!! love yas! 🩷🌺🌸🌷💝💞)
tag list : @kumqu4t @tolkien-fantasy @blueberryrock @to-be-frank-i-dont-care @luna-xial @legolaslovely @fizzyxcustard @pistachiozombie @imaginexhobbit @beenovel
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lqveharrington · 6 months
Text
You Look Beautiful | V.
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summary: Alastor introduces you to Vox, leading to an unforgettable experience with your father.
pairing: vox x lucifer’s daughter!reader
includes: drinking, fluff, VALENTINO, secret relationships, awkward flirting, lucifer being an overprotective father, lucifer also being lucifer, that’s basically it (let me know if i missed any !!)
a/n: this takes place before Vox upgrades to a flat screen TV and before Alastor leaves for his seven year absence. Also, you’re older than charlie 🤗
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Being Lucifer Morningstar’s first daughter was something else. Especially when your mother left. When she left, your father fell into deep depression which left you with paperwork to fulfill from other sins and left you with the responsibility of watching over your younger sister. Having to take over both your mother and father’s royal duties was getting to you, so no wonder you resorted to occasional clubbing with your friends.
“Husk!” You enveloped the demon cat in your arms, earning a noise of complaint. “Rude.”
“I don’t take affection lightly.” He patted your back awkwardly and let you settle into the booth with him. “What took you so long?”
You roll your eyes, “Charlie wanted to invite the stupid Von Eldritch boy over. I at least had to set some ground rules.”
“She’ll disobey them.” Husk shook his head and ordered a whiskey. “You know her.”
“Yeah yeah.” You wave him off and order your own drink, tapping your nails against your flip phone. “Do you know if Alastor’s here yet?”
“Why, I would like to believe I’m here, darling.” The Radio Demon formed in front of you. Husk muttered something toward your direction, Alastor’s grin sharpening at the action. “I’ve brought along some acquaintances if you don’t mind.”
You look up before sipping your drink. “Yeah, what you’ve brought is a doll, a moth, and a tv— Ow.” You rubbed your arm where Husk jabbed you, glaring at him.
Your eyes drifted toward the three demons Alastor brought with him, tilting your head at the height differences. You learned that the shortest amongst them was Velvette. Out of the three of them, she seemed to be the one with the most fashion sense as she nitpicked everyone else’s clothing in the establishment. Her accent was heavy, leaving you to wonder what she said half of the time.
“Oh god, that bitch is wearing wrist ruffles! Someone burn it.” She spoke in distaste at the demon.
“Vel, she’s already wasted, don’t give her any more ideas.” The moth blew out pink smoke, watching the young demon stumble across the dance floor.
For a moth, he was the tallest demon between the three of them, towering over everyone even while sitting. He introduced himself to be Valentino… The porn demon. He gave you goosebumps from sitting across you. And for being the princess of hell, that means a lot. He seemed to be eyeing all the younger demons, his single gold tooth flashing when he grinned at them.
“Val, come dance with me.” Velvette dragged him out of the booth, not waiting for a response. “Voxy, you’re welcome to join.”
You shifted your gaze over to the TV demon, watching him politely decline the offer. He definitely kept you guessing. When you first saw him, he was reserved and only spoke to those he came with. However, he eventually started to loosen up, taking shots with Valentino. And for a demon with a TV box for a head, he was quite interesting.
“You’re not gonna dance?” You stir your red straw in your drink, catching the demon’s attention. “It seemed like Velvette wanted you to join them.”
“Dancing with big crowds isn’t my thing.” He swirled a claw over the rim of his glass and met your eyes. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Your eyes drift over to Husk ordering another whiskey at the bar, Alastor hot on his tail.
“Why aren’t you dancing?”
“I wasn’t up to it, but now that you mention it—“ You tilted your head back and downed your drink, not noticing the glitching TV beside you. “—You have to come dancing with me.”
“I don’t think—“
You click your tongue, pushing your drink away. “Just one song? If you don’t want to, you can leave when we get there.” You take his hand and pout, using the face your father gave you to make it more convincing. “Please?”
He huffed but let you drag him to the dance floor, moving his hand to your hip when you hit the center of the huge crowd. “You know, I’m starting to think he just invited me out to be more social with his friends.”
“Al and I are barely friends, but how is that working out for you?” You question as the red light glares against your skin.
He shrugged as his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Depends on how well I’ve been talking to the people he introduced me to.” He tugged you closer to you when drunk demons pushed against your body. “Do you even remember my name?”
You open your mouth but promptly shut it, cheeks flushed at the confrontation. “I know it! I just… Don’t want to say it.”
“Holy shit, you don’t know my name.” He spun you in his arms, smirking at your pink face. “It’s Vox, by the way.”
“I knew that.” You say with a teasing tone, laughing when he dipped you. “I bet you don’t know my name.”
Your name fell from his mouth smoothly, making you scoff in annoyance. “I believe everyone knows who you are, princess.”
You avoided his gaze after the nickname spilled out of his lips. Sure, you were called princess multiple times by many demons. But the way Vox said it made butterflies appear in your stomach, a different kind of goosebumps appearing across your skin.
As the song came to an end, you learned a lot more about the TV demon in front of you within those last six minutes than you learned from Husk in the last two years. Returning to your booth, your phone vibrated in your pocket as you excused yourself from your company. Charlie’s name lit up your screen, making you curse.
You went back over to the booth to find Vox covering your unfinished drink with his hand, glancing at his own phone. “Hey, I have to go. Sorry for cutting our discussion short. My sister called and—“
“Don’t worry! It’s not an issue! Your family is clearly important sooo…” Vox rubbed the back of his neck, tugging at the turtleneck. “Before you go, can I ask you something?”
“What’s up?” You look back up at him after shooting a text to Charlie.
His screen turned pink as your attention went back to him, all confidence leaving his system. “I was wondering if you would like to meet up again. Sometime? Not in a club possibly?”
Your face warms at his words, at a loss for your own response. “Uh.. Yes! Of course, let me just get your contact info.”
“Right!” He felt the inside of his jacket for a pen, taking your hand a scribbling down his number. “Just give me a call whenever you can.”
You smiled at how fast he switched from confident to shy within seconds. “Of course.”
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“Oh my god.” You mumble as you watch your father converse with the store’s employees animatedly, rubbing your temples at the sight.
Charlie snickered at your expression as he summoned a rubber duck he was working on. “You can’t tell me you weren’t expecting this when we went out today.”
“No, I knew.” You turn away from your father’s embarrassing encounter and flick through different dresses on the rack behind you instead. “I think knowing this would happen made it a hundred times worse.”
Since Lilith left, Lucifer took it upon himself to treat his daughters out to buy their own clothing at least once a month. He just always got distracted by showing other demons his creations.
“Char, do you think I could pull this off?” You pull a dress from the rack and put it against yourself, staring at the mirror with your nail between your teeth. You quite liked it, but you weren’t sure if you would wear it more than once—
“Personally, I think you would look amazing.” A voice that was distinctly not Charlie came from your left.
You whipped your head over as your face reddened at the TV demon. “Shut up, Vox.”
“I’m serious! You would look great in that.” He fully came into your view, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Didn’t expect to see you today.”
Humming, you walk back over to the rack and examine the rest of the dresses, Vox close behind. “My dad wanted to take Charlie and I out.” You glanced up at him when you pulled out a maroon dress, silently asking for his opinion. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, this is Velvette’s own designer store.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting toward the sign that had his business partner’s name under it. “She sent me to check on the stock or something.”
“Did you?” You question as you scan over the prices on the dresses, clicking your tongue. “Check on whatever she needs you to check on, I mean?”
He shrugged, “You distracted me, princess.”
You flush pink again at the name, bumping him with your hip. “Go do your job, Vox.”
“It’s not my fault I saw you!”
“Yes, it is!” You tease with an accusatory finger to his chest. “I’m an innocent bystander—“
Charlie rounded the corner of the store looking for you, eyes brightening when seeing your figure. “Hey, dad’s asking for you— Oh!” You and Vox separated swiftly, eyes wide at the young Morningstar. “Uh, am I.. interrupting something? Orrr…?”
“No no, you’re fine, Charlie.” Your face remained warm, not meeting your sister’s eyes. An awkward silence filled the room before Vox cleared his throat, making you spring into action. “Right! Charlie, this is Vox. Vox, Charlie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie.” Vox gave her a polite smile, squeezing your hip. “Your sister talks a lot about you.
Charlie practically glowed at the confession, looking over at you for confirmation. “It’s nice to meet you as well!” She glanced at the two of you in suspicion. “I’m sorry to cut your… Meeting? Uh, short, but our dad needs her…”
Vox squeezed your hip one last time before pressing a quick kiss to your temple, soft static emitting from the spot. “I’ll text you later.”
“Bye.” You give him a lovesick look as you nod, walking over to a grinning Charlie.
“Soooo…” Charlie looked back, watching the TV demon’s screen become crimson with small electric hearts appearing. “Who was that?”
“Vox.”
She rolled her eyes at your bluntness, “Okay, obviously! But who is he?”
You fiddle with the hangers in your arms, not meeting her eyes. “He’s a guy… That I’m seeing… Currently…”
“Oh. My. Gosh!” She squeezed your arm with excitement, bouncing with every step. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s super exciting!”
“I didn’t want Dad to find out.” You shake your head at the thought. “He’s been a bit overprotective with who we hang out with recently.”
Speak of the devil, he’ll appear.
“GIRLS! COME MEET THIS NICE YOUNG WOMAN!”
You and Charlie looked at each other while wincing, slowly approaching your father.
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“Charlie!” You yell from your bathroom, rushing over to your walk-in closet. You sift through your dresses, looking for the maroon dress.
“What?” She yelled from your bedroom, giving KeeKee stomach rubs.
Swiftly, you snatch the dress off the hanger and run back over to the bathroom, throwing your towel over the shower and slipping into the dress. “Can you run downstairs and make sure Dad doesn’t open the door? Vox is coming to pick me up—“
“Why can’t you do it?” She groaned, flopping down onto your bed
“Because I’m not done dressing!” Your eyes flash red in annoyance with small horns poking out of your head as you peek over at the young demon. “The staff has the day off today because it’s the end of the month, and I really don’t want Dad to open the door.”
Charlie muttered something incoherent before leaving the room, KeeKee right by her heels. To be fair, you were a little rude, but you had the right to be. You were terrified for your father to meet Vox. Not that Vox was horrible, but your father's protectiveness started to rise much faster these last couple of months. As you were finishing up your makeup, your phone rang, followed by a groan coming out of your mouth.
“Hello?” You picked up your phone, slipping on your red heels and gold jewelry.
“Hi, princess.” Vox’s voice came through the cellular device, making you smile.
“Are you here already?” You glance at the clock in your room and curse at the time, running down the stairs.
He chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, but uhm, your dad looks like he’s gonna kill me.”
“Fuck, okay, give me a second.” You shut your phone and open a portal to the front door instead of running all the way down to the foyer. “Hey, Dad!”
“Sweetie, who the hell is this guy?” Lucifer glared at the TV demon. Vox buffered at the comment, embarrassment filling his system.
You wedge yourself in between the two, whispering an apology to Vox. “Dad, this is Vox. Vox, my dad..”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mister Morningstar.” Vox offered his hand but slowly lowered it as he received no reaction.
“Uh-huh.” Lucifer looked at him up and down. “And who exactly is he?”
You hold the urge to laugh at how similar Charlie was to your father but snap back to reality when you hear Vox’s fans turn on.
“He’s my…” You glance back at the demon behind you before down at your father, linking your hands with Vox’s. “Vox is my boyfriend.”
“Your what now?” He stared at you with wide eyes, gaze shifting from the now bright pink demon to his darling daughter.
“My boyfriend.” You say again with more assurance. “We’ve been together a bit after Alastor introduced us—“
“The radio demon?” Lucifer made a face of disgust. “Okay, well you can come back inside the house and you—“ He pushed Vox out while pulling you in. “—Can leave my property.”
“Dad!” You tug Vox back to your side, apologizing once more for your father’s actions. “I’m going out with him tonight.”
“Oh, c’mon. He’s associated with the stupid radio—“
“I’m friends with Alastor!” Your eyes flash red again but calmed once Vox squeezes your hand. You blink before speaking again, taking a deep breath. “Listen, can I just go out? I’ll be back later.”
Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temple. “You’re happy? He makes you happy?”
You nod while smiling up at Vox, “Very.”
“And you’ll watch over her?” He looked over at Vox, brow raised at the demon.
“Yes, sir.” Vox squeezed your hand again.
He bit back any words of annoyance and gave a strained smile to the both of you. “Have fun on your date, sweetheart.”
You grinned and pulled him in for a hug, “Thank you! Love you!”
“Alright, just be back by midnight.” He flicked his hand which set a timer over the doorway. “Be safe.”
“We will!” You take Vox’s hand again and drag him away from the door. “That was easy.”
Vox furrowed his brows at your statement, wrapping his arm around your hip. “For you, maybe. He looked like he wanted to murder me.”
You shrug your shoulders, “You’ll get used to it.” You give him a proper look, tugging at his tie when you thought you were far enough from your father’s gaze. “You look handsome as always.”
“You look…” He pulled you close by the waist, smirking as you flushed red. “Beautiful.”
You push up on your toes and press a kiss to his lips, hands coming up to the sides of his screen. He hummed and pulled you closer, thumbs rubbing circles by your hip.
“HEY! BACK UP, BUDDY!” Lucifer yelled from the door, full demon form out on display.
You chuckle when Vox glitches, patting his chest. “Sorry, handsome.”
“STAY TEN FEET AWAY FROM HER!”
Rolling your eyes, you turn around and let your own demon form come out. “DAD!”
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lure-of-writing · 7 months
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Kick your ass
Note: Hi everybody long time no see! I would assume that is doesn't come as a surprise when I say being a flight attendant leaves no room for writing much less doing anything else but sleeping but here we are after what I'm sure can be counted as forever. Anyways I feel like this story is when your partner just isn't getting it right and it's driving you crazy and you get a little ( or a lot) sassy. I'm so happy to have finally written something in so long and I hope you love it!
Word count-2.3K
Warnings- none unless you count cussing
Summary: Lately all your mate does is piss you off. And don't get it wrong you love him but you are more than ready to kick his ass.
You love Azriel with all of your heart, your whole being if you're being completely honest but lately he has done nothing but piss you off. It first started with him going on a mission during the middle of your cycle. Since the moment you knew Azirel was your mate you gave clear explicit instructions that Azriel was to be no more than five feet away from you during that time of the year unless it was for something of the utmost importance and could not be handled by anyone else. Imagine your surprise when he started grabbing his leather clothing after he had made you breakfast and had gotten you comfortable in your bed that could fit three grown Illyrian men. 
“And just where do you think you're going?” Azriel could feel like distaste dripping off of your words and hitting him in the back as he was faced away from you. It was no secret that Azriel loved you more than life itself and would do absolutely anything to keep you safe and happy but when you were on your period you could be a handful and more often than not you tested his never ending patience until you actually found the end of its supply. With a slow release of his breath he turns around to find you perched on the edge of the bed throwing an angry glare in his direction. “Listen baby” the shadowsinger slowly approached you like you were a wild animal ready to strike at any moment and honestly that comparison isn’t too far off with the way you look like you're ready to rip his head off of his shoulders. “You know I wouldn’t go unless I had to, yeah?” he kneels before you gently rubbing comforting circles on your bare thigh while giving you a soft smile reserved for only you. “Is the information you retrieve from this mission of that great value?” he watched as you paused waiting for the answer that both he and you already knew. “Is there no one else beneath you who could do it instead?” And while yes there were people beneath him that could handle this task, Azriel is a perfectionist and would like to make sure things get done right. “Is it so important that you must leave your mate during their cycle knowing the excruciating pain I endure? It's so important you must put this before your mate?” 
Azriel knew this conversation was a losing battle on his end but he also knew if he would like to be able to sleep next to you tonight that he must offer something to make up for it. “No my love, there isn’t anyone else who can handle this as they are all busy at the moment but don’t worry I will be back before dinner.”  Even as you glowered down at him all the shadowsinger could think about was two things. One, he is definitely in trouble and two, how stunning you look. “I don’t care if no one else can do it, get that brute of your brother to handle it.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way as if to send Cassian on this mission yourself and Azriel couldn’t help but lay his head on your legs and laugh and your attitude. 
The next time Azriel made you mad was during a family dinner with the inner circle. At first with all the new people, family dinners were a little awkward and unbearable mostly due to Cassians pinning over Nesta and her constant blatant rejection but also because of the middle sister's fascination with your mate. Did she know he was your mate? Yes. Did that stop her from having a crush? Absolutely not.
As you were getting ready to head down to Feyres and Rhysands new house you had made it clear he needed to put his foot down and tell Elain he was not and would never be interested in a relationship with her otherwise you would handle it yourself and Azriel knew that meant you would become your own nasiter version of Nesta and you would tear her down until she couldn’t even look you in the eyes. It may not be the best way to handle her crush but until Azriel when it came to dealing with people who had a crush on him you tended to leave your manners at the door. 
Everything was going well at the river house until you walked into the dinning room with Amren and spot your mate seated next to Elain on one side and Mor on the other side. The whole group could feel the shift in the temperature as it dropped and you gave a cold and pointed stare to your mate. Possessing the same powers as Rhysand you barged into his mind “What the hell is this?” without responding he gently shakes his head in a not right here manner and pleading with his eye for you to just let this go. Silently you take your seat across the table from him and sit next to your high lady and Amren. For the rest of the dinner you say nothing as your pin Azriel to his seat as your seething anger radiates off of you and hits him like a tidal wave over and over again never once giving him a break. 
“Y/n” Azriel had waited until after you had taken your bath and done your fifteen step skin and body care route and had gotten into bed with your current book you picked to read before approaching you. He gently sat down on the bed next to your legs and hopped you don;t make him sleep on the couch tonight.  “I know you're upset with what happened at dinner but it just happened one minute I was talking with Mor and the next Elain was ushering us all in to eat dinner and she just happened to sit next to me.” As he gave his explanation of the night's events you had closed your book and laid it in your lap and nodded silently in understanding waiting for your mate to be done talking. “Is that so?” you asked in a thoughtful way. Now Azriel has been with you long enough to know that tone of voice and that statement should strike the fear of every god into him and it definitely did. “Yes, I promise that's what happened.” Once again you nodded in understanding before tilting your head to the side with a confused look on your face. “So if that's all that happened then why would Elain feel comfortable sitting next to you knowing that you have a mate who cannot stand her crush on you? And didn’t I tell you to make sure Elain knew in no uncertain terms that her fantasy of having a relationship with you was nothing more than a fantasy and if she tried I would kill her?” Azriels heart dropped to his stomach as he listened to you talk, he had known that there was something he needed to do but as soon as he entered the house Cassian gave him a cup of a mysterious alcohol and Rhysand had beckoned him over to fill him in on the status of a mission one of his spies were on. And before he knew it Morrgian had whisked him away to talk about her journey on the continent and the information she had obtained while there and the next thing he knew he was sat between the girl he used to have a crush on and the girl who currently has a crush on him. Candidly he knew he was fucked. 
“Let's go with your version of events like you said they happened shall we? I am going to assume you got too busy with everyone to tell Elain to knock off her childish behavior, which you would have done in a much nicer way because you are you. Then why didn’t you say anything to her when I walked in or better yet why didn’t you get up to sit next to me instead?” As a professional interrogator your mate knew you had just walked him into a trap and for a split second he wondered why you didn’t have his job instead. “Baby you know both of those options would have been rude and probably would have ruined the dinner.” Nodding in fake understanding you inspect your nails giving it a brief second before responding “And you are the shadowsinger of the night court. One of the most feared males in Prythian and you couldn’t muster up the courage to say something to Elain? How ironic is that.” You scoffed and shook your head in a surprised manner and needless to say he ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 
The last straw was watching Azriel train the valkyries and watching them not so subtly drool over your mate. You wouldn’t be one to blame them if they had done so in a respectful way but they were bluntly flirting with your mate right in front of you. One thing you loved about Azriel was how secure he was in your relationship. No one could make him look in the direction that wasn’t you, if someone was trying to flirt with him he didn’t register it unless it was you. And normally you wouldn’t have a problem with that except three girls were currently trying to make a pass at him and he had no reaction. Most would take that in a positive way but not you, you wanted him to shut that down the second it started and make a clear line in the sand on what was expected from the student-teacher relationship amongst him and the Valkyries he was training. “Azriel!” You had barely shouted his name from across the training platform on the house of wind but it felt as if you had. He turned around to see you leaned against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest and face set in a scowl while glaring at him. Turing to look at the trainees before him he instructs them on what to do next before quickly making his way to you. “Yes my love?” he asks in such a hushed and concerned tone that you almost forget what you called him over to yell at him about, but over his shoulder you see one of the girls check him out and suddenly you remembered all over again what it was that you needed to speak to him about. “You need to tell your students to stop checking you out and to close their mouths before they start drooling all over themselves.” Your mate's face scrunched in confusion. Azriel may be an excellent observer but when it came to himself not so much. He couldn’t see his own beauty that was hand crafted from the gods themselves, he couldn;t see how his quiet and standoffish personality drew people in, he couldn't see all of the things that you loved about him could all be the reason that other people lust after him. 
His shadows gave him a play by play of what his students had been doing while he wasn’t focused on each person in particular and how you had been brewing in your anger in the corner by yourself. As soon as you put on your fighting leathers this morning Azriel knew he was doomed as it was your ritual to fight each other everyday during training but seeing you in the corner pissed that other people had been checking him out brought his demise to a whole nother level. Azriel subtly glanced down at where your arms were crossed over your chest and he thanked the gods for your outfit. “You sound a little upset, my love.” Once more you send him one of your signature pointed looks “Yeah you would be upset also if the roles were reversed.” He shrugs slightly while tilting his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to his body. “You’re not wrong I would be upset because nobody gets to look at you that way unless it's me.” He pulls you even closer to his body until you’re chest to chest with him and he bends down to whisper in your ear. “Beat me in a match and I will make sure they know I’m no one else's but yours. I'll let you claim me anyway you want, hell I’ll even let you do it in front of them if that will make you feel better.” Both you and Azriel knew the game he was playing at but neither of you cared, well him less than you. You pulled away slightly to look up at your mate and see the smirk resting upon his very kissable looking lips “Sounds like a deal to me because I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.” 
The shadowsinger followed behind you with a laugh and he shook his head in amusement while taking in your figure from behind. He watched as you got into your fighting stance and waited for him to do the same. He held his hand up to signal you to give him a moment. Turning around to look at the Valkyries in training he gathered their attention without saying a word. “I think it's about time to see what the last remaining real valkyrie looks light during a fight and maybe then you can aspire to be a fraction of as good as my beautiful mate is.” He turned back around to see you glowing with confidence, determination and love, but also the want to make sure you won his bet. Gods he knew this was going to lead to some great sex after you kicked his ass and he couldn’t be looking forward to it more.
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delirious-donna · 7 months
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A Shaky Arrangement [Part Three]
story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.
chapter summary: You've nowhere else to go, surely he wouldn't kick you out so easily? You are so very attractive after all...
pairings: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: sibling bickering, mentions of food, SFW
Part Two | Series Masterlist | Part Four
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Kento scowled.
He sat stiffly on the leather couch that occupied most of the living room space, watching as you took container after container out of a brown paper bag with a grease stain pooling at the bottom. The desire to march to the kitchen and find the surface spray and kitchen towel to wipe up any damage to his coffee table was rampant. But he didn’t. He sat still with a growing grimace.
“You think you could stop scowling at me?” you said from your spot on the floor, sitting cross-legged with your back to him. “I can feel your distaste crawling up my spine.”
“I am not scowling,” he lied mulishly.
“Yes, you are, but whatever. I did ask if you wanted to add anything to the order. You were the one to turn your nose up at Chinese takeout. I guess you’re used to the finer things in life, Mr Nanami.”
His mouth opened to respond, but he snapped it shut just as quickly. He would not get into a petty argument over his preference of cuisine. The sinking feeling of resignation reared its head once more. Could he honestly share his apartment with you for the next two weeks without you both at each other’s throats?
“Remind me again why am I even considering hosting you?” He half hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and sat forward in his seat until his elbows were braced upon his knees.
You paused. The chopsticks you were using to pile rice onto an expensive-looking plate froze in midair. At last, you twisted your neck to look around, adopting a sheepish expression.
He was right, as annoying as that fact might be.
This was his home, and he had every right to send you on your merry way, whether you had somewhere to stay or not–the latter being the case. You were sharply reminded of his stricken features when you explained your plight. How he had grabbed up the glass which you had just finished draining of whatever potent amber liquor he preferred and went looking for a refill. A large one. A large one which he swallowed in one long gulp.
Kento had the same eyes as his sister, Karin. They were rich hazel, and they had the strange ability to lighten or darken depending on their mood. They crackled like popping logs in a roaring hearth when joyful or amused and darkened to the deepest mahogany when angered or upset. This you noticed as he questioned you over and over, his fingers running ruefully through his hair and those eyes that followed your every nervous jerk or twitch became pits of darkness.
“Sorry,” you said quietly. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you into sharing something with me? I ordered way too much, there will be leftovers for days if you don’t.” It was your version of a peace offering. Anything to prevent him from backtracking on the shaky agreement you had reached.
Kento’s nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of leftovers crowding his fridge and the smells that might permeate into the fresh produce or homemade meals that were labelled and waiting to be eaten.
With a long sigh, he lowered himself to the floor and sat by your left elbow. “Fine. It is probably wise for me to put something other than alcohol in my stomach anyway. Serve yourself what you want and I’ll have what is left.”
“Aye, captain!”
“Don’t do that,” he scolded, rolling his eyes at your salute, but there was no heat in the words. If anything, he was amused and you smiled knowingly to yourself as you began to dig into the meal.
He must be truly mad to be entertaining this prospect, but there was something he liked about you, even if he tried his best to deny it. You pushed back against him. It was refreshing. Kento enjoyed your quick wit and the ease with which you conversed with him. Sure, it was often at his expense but it was enjoyable in a way it never had been before.
As the youngest ever senior partner at work, he commanded respect from all. The junior partners and even those on the governing board often bowed their heads in reverence when in his presence. Yet it wasn’t so long ago that he had been a fresh-faced college graduate eager to reach his current lofty heights and he wondered absently if you possessed the same drive and determination. You certainly weren’t easily intimidated.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Mr Nanami?”
So lost in thought, Kento almost missed your question. It took him a moment to process and when it finally hit home, he nearly choked on his bite of peking duck.
“Excuse me?” he spluttered, banging a fist on his chest to clear the blockage in his throat.
Your cheeks warmed in amusement, impishly shrugging whilst you toyed with the remnants on your plate. It had been on your mind for a little while now. Your host was handsome—a thought you kept coming back to no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.
“I said, do you have a girlfriend?” you repeated.
“I don’t see what business that is of yours.”
He busied himself with rolling back the sleeves of his pristine white button up. Your lips quirked before you blew out a puff of air.
“Come on. It’s a simple question, no? Since you’ve agreed to give me a place to stay, surely I should know if I might run into someone else whilst I’m here.”
You had a point, and that bugged him. He was about to answer when you went on, nudging your elbow into his side and he caught a whiff of his body wash on your skin.
“Boyfriend then?” You baited him, though there would be no shame in it if he were more inclined towards his own sex. Other than perhaps the briefest disappointment. No! Shut that down now, you thought to yourself.
“Neither. If you must know.” He levelled an unimpressed stare in your direction and wiped his hands on a napkin.
How annoying the flare of hope that illuminated in your chest upon hearing his answer was. It had no place here, and you did your best to flatten your features into neutrality. You failed.
“I do, however, have a cleaner that visits each morning for a few hours to keep the place how I like it. I will alert Mrs McGarden that I have a guest so that she doesn’t enter your room without consent.” He nodded his head as if that was the end of the matter, trying and failing not to notice how you chewed your lip as if you were deep in thought. Cute.
“Speaking of rooms…” you trailed off as the first wave of tiredness hit you square in the face. It was early by your standards but the day had been filled with ups and downs like nothing you’d experienced before. “Where will I be sleeping?”
It was an innocent enough question, or you had meant it that way, but the lull that Kento left hanging over you both felt thick with something tangible but unknown. Right now your suitcase was still spread open wide on what you now knew to be his bed and you surely wouldn’t be sleeping there.
Before he could answer, his phone rang from the kitchen island, shrill and loud. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, hurriedly moving for the device and slipping down the hallway until he was out of sight.
“I can explain! Don’t yell.” The familiar voice said the second the phone was to his ear. Karin had finally braved his wrath and called back.
“I’ll give you two minutes.”
“Kento! I am not one of your underlings. Not that it matters, shut up. What was I saying?” Karin hissed through the phone and even without seeing her he knew that she was pushing hair out of her face as she always did when she was flustered or annoyed.
He sighed and silently counted to three. “Two. Minutes. Explain.”
“You’re meant to be out of the country, why aren’t you? I didn’t think you’d ever find out,” she hurried on, not waiting for an answer. Kento had long since known when not to interrupt his sister in full flow. “Mrs McGarden assured me that she would keep silent and I was only trying to help out a friend. She tried to refuse my offer. Said she’d find a couch or two to sleep on instead, can you imagine? You haven’t… kicked her out, have you?”
“I was firmly coerced into taking a vacation instead of attending the conference hence my presence. It seems I need to have words with Mrs McGarden as to where her loyalties lie, and no, I have not kicked your friend out,” he answered the questions in the order they were given, turning on the spot in his bedroom. “Though I have been sorely tempted,” he lied.
Karin audibly harrumphed. “Don’t lie, Kento, it’s not a good trait.”
“Who says I’m lying?”
“Oh, whatever. I don’t have time for your little temper tantrum. Y’know… I think she might be a good influence on you, relax you a little. You’re on vacation so maybe spend some time with your guest? She is very dear to me and I’ve got a lot of explaining to do since I never mentioned you to her.”
Kento could hear the genuine worry in her voice and it cooled some of the fires of his anger. His shoulders slumped and half-heartedly he agreed, even if he didn’t have any intention to do as Karin suggested. He would keep to himself and hope that you did the same.
He returned to the living room but found it empty. Glancing to the side he found you in the kitchen washing up the plates and humming. For a moment he simply stood and watched. Considering he had only just met you, he didn’t mind seeing you in his space and the words of his sister echoed in his mind.
“You didn’t need to do that,” he stated, finally making his presence known once more.
Smiling, you shrugged him off. “It was the least I could do, don’t worry about it.”
“Uh, Karin sends her apologies for the mixup. She assures me that she will make it up to you and explain everything when you see her next. Shall we pick a room for you now?”
Your chin jutted out, a wrinkle forming between your eyebrows at the mention of his sister. Kento could tell that Karin was going to be in for hell, and rightly so, when you reunited.
“Yes please, I’m pretty tired after… well, you know,” you stammered with an awkward laugh.
He did indeed know, though he would rather forget. Instead, he held out his arm for you to step ahead of him and followed you discreetly towards the two bedrooms that you could choose from.
The first was on the right and nearest to the living space, this was the room that Karin occupied when she visited and her mark was firmly stamped upon the interior. Kento watched from just outside the doorway as you tried and failed not to wince at the baby blue walls and the mountains of overstuffed pillows piled atop a cream bedspread with lace and frills.
In the corner stood her old dollhouse, untouched and in pristine condition thanks to a certain cleaner with whom he still needed to have several words with. You froze before it, curiosity lighting in your eyes and slowly you bent to inspect through the windows where the tiny families resided.
Before he could speak, you whirled around and brushed past with a soft apology for coming so close to him. Again, he could smell his body wash on you and he liked it even more this time.
“I don’t think this room will do,” you mused with downcast eyes.
“Not fond of dolls?” he guessed in what was more meant to be a joke but your guilty expression told him he had hit the nail on the head.
“There is another room, but… it’s next to my own. I hope you won’t mind?” Kento stalked forward and tilted his head in the direction of the room next to his.
You trotted after him and away from the prying eyes of the dolls in their fancy house, vowing silently not to enter that room again. You reached for him, anxious fingers clinging to the shirt encasing his bicep and tugging like a frightened child might do. It was his turn to freeze, his stare fixed on where you held him until he found your eyes and questioned the gesture without a word.
“You won’t tell her, will you? I just…” You shook your head and feigned a smile, you were being silly after all. “Nightmares as a child, that’s all.”
“My lips are sealed.” He smiled kindly until your hand fell away. “Now, come inside and see if this will do.”
He didn’t know what he’d do if it wasn’t, although he didn’t expect you were an overly demanding house guest even with the little he knew about you. He wasn’t above giving you his bed if it were necessary but it would be a last resort.
This room was decorated in soft pastel shades that were far less bright than the blue of Karin’s. The bed was turned down with what appeared to be an identical grey duvet to the one in the master bedroom.
There was a small vanity set opposite the window and a writing desk in the far corner. Everything was neutral in here, wiped clean as if it had never been occupied and it made you feel safe and warm.
“It’s perfect.”
Sitting on the corner of the bed, you glanced at Kento who stood respectfully in the door. He wasn’t looking at you, instead his eyes were wandering as if he were checking everything was clean enough. His frame filled the doorway, shoulders broad and imposing. Except you didn’t find him imposing, and that was the problem.
He must be at least five years older than you, not that you cared, you were a young woman not a teenager. You were reminded of how long you had gone without a boyfriend or even a lover. One night stands and casual situationships were never your thing so it had been some time since you had last felt an attraction like you did now.
This whole day felt like a fever dream.
You needed to rein in your train of thoughts but it was hard when Kento took a step deeper inside and the air seemed suddenly thick like syrup. His hands were deep in his pockets and finally he blew out a breath, making it easier for you to breathe too.
“If you’re sure. I’ll go grab your suitcase and bag for you,” he offered quietly.
It had to be your imagination but it seemed like he was struggling as much as you were. Although likely for a different reason. You were an unexpected guest and he very much seemed the type of person who was set in routine. You nodded your thanks and let him slip away.
“He is your best friend’s brother, get your act together woman! Stop lusting over him,” you scolded yourself in a hushed whisper.
It was going to be a long two weeks, that was for sure.
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