#but appreciated the gesture and the husband for giving them to her even if she was too busy to give them herself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

krirebr · 5 months

Text

More Than This 1

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~4.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

It was uncommon to be called to your stepfather’s office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. You’d only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window – your mother.

“Mom?” you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.

“Sweetheart,” he called to you. It’s what he’d called you since you’d first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance he’d been saddled with when he’d married your mother for her late first husband’s connections. Eighteen years later, you wished he’d drop the pretense already. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk.

You sat down across from him. “What’s going on?” you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.

“Congratulations are in order,” he said, smiling at you. “You’re engaged.”

Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. They’d all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasn’t much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didn’t make you any more ready for your turn.

“That’s wonderful,” you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. “May I ask whom I’m engaged to?”

“Ransom Drysdale,” Joseph said. “He’s the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. We’ve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. It’s fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.”

Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible.

“So,” he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, “all you need to do is sign and initial the contract where it’s marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.”

At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. “Next month?”

Joseph nodded. “It’s important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.”

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. “Shouldn’t I read it first?” you asked, somewhat desperately.

He shook his head, “No need,” he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. “Julian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. It’s all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you aren’t a lawyer.” He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him.

“I just–” you stammered. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew you couldn’t pick up that pen.

Irritation bloomed on your stepfather’s face. “Lydia!” he called.

Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. “Honey,” she said gently, putting her hand on your back. “This will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!” She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. She’d looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you.

You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you weren’t getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you weren’t sure any of it was legible.

When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. “We’ve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, I’m sure you want to go celebrate, so we won’t keep you any longer.”

At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.

You’d been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Joseph’s indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, he’d named himself your protector, shielding you from his father’s annoyance and your mother’s sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable.

When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, he’d hugged you and whispered in your ear, “See? I’m always right.”

That was the memory you couldn’t stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrother’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.

“I think I might be really fucked, Steve,” you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldn’t get them to stop.

“What happened?” he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.

“Your dad, he–” You stopped and shook your head. Steve’s face darkened. “I’m engaged,” you said with a helpless shrug.

“Okay,” he said evenly. “That might not be the most dire thing. You’ve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.”

You sighed. “They’ve set a date this time.”

“Oh,” was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. “That’s new.”

“Yeah.” you nodded. “A month from now.”

That had Steve sitting up straight. “The hell?!”

“It’s happening this time. I can feel it.”

“Hey, no,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.”

You shook your head. “Everything’s already signed. They made me sign. I don’t think there’s any getting out of it.”

“He give you a name?”

“Ransom Drysdale.”

Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.

“Fuck,” you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.

“No, it’s– I’ve only met him once or twice, ok? I don’t actually know anything about him.”

“But you don’t like him.”

“He’s–” Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset you even more, “a strong personality.” He looked at you carefully. “And he’s older than you. Older than me, even.”

“I know,” you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. “They gave me this.”

You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. “This is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?”

You shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. Can’t imagine it says anything interesting.”

Steve nodded, seriously. “It’s probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you weren’t allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.”

You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. “You’re such a dick!” you laughed. “I’m very upset!”

He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. “He deserves to know the kind of person he’s marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when she’s separated from her stuffed bunny.”

“I was eight, asshole!” You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. “Holy shit, he’s marrying me. I’m getting married. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anyone. You don’t even like him! He could hurt me and–”

“Hey, no!” Steve interrupted quickly. “I might not know much, but I know that. He won’t do that. I’m sure of it. And if he ever even tried, I’d be there so fast. They’d never find his body.”

“Will he be kind to me?” you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. “Be honest with me. Please.”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” you said, trying so hard not to cry, “I guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.”

Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His ‘I’m going to fix this’ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”

You shook your head. “Steve.” Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldn’t go anywhere.

“It’s going to be alright,” he said resolutely.

All you could do was say “OK,” with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

“Of course not. Lola good on her own for a while?”

You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. “Yeah, for a while.”

“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” he asked, gesturing to his painting.

“I like watching you paint,” you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something you’d done since you were small.

He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, you’d have to move to Boston and you wouldn’t get to have this time with your brother anymore.

As expected, Steve’s talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadn’t expected anything else.

For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransom—pouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impression—and pretending your problems didn’t exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck.

The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead.

So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. You’d arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to.

Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. It’d be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after you’d gone, it’d make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.

Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didn’t introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom.

He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.

You cleared your throat to say something, you weren’t entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. “You don’t drink?”

“No, I do,” you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. “I can,” you amended, but that sounded odd too. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.”

He snorted. “Well, aren’t you polite?” His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didn’t know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering.

Once you’d finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, “How old even are you?” with scorn in his voice.

You cleared your throat. “Twenty-four,” you tried to say with confidence.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, “Didn’t they tell you about me?”

He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Gave me a whole binder. I never opened it.”

You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. You’d studied every inch of what they’d given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldn’t care less. “Oh,” was all you were able to say.

He grinned a little meanly. “You got one too, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.”

“No,” you growled out. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.

He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. “My god,” he muttered, “this whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”

The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you weren’t entirely sure what that point was.

You were ready to order, but Ransom hadn’t glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, “Go ahead and bring me another one of these right away,” and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.

Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” you asked, nodding to his menu.

He shook his head. “I have dinner plans after this.”

Heat shot through your whole body. “I thought these were the dinner plans.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Getting a head start on the nagging?” he asked, dryly. “Wow, it’s like we’re already married.”

You opened your mouth to do something, you weren’t sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. “Alright, let’s get this done. You’re moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I don’t need your shit cluttering up everything.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasn’t even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, “I have a dog.”

He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that you’d spoken at all. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’ll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.”

You didn’t even bother to try to think through the static in your head. “She’s coming with me. I don’t care what else happens, I’m fucking bringing my dog.”

Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, “Fine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, you’re getting rid of it. I’m serious.”

“She won’t,” you said, as sure of that as anything. “She’s a good girl.”

“Whatever,” he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, “The bill,” without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, “I don’t know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, but…” he shrugged.

You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap he’d just taken. “Baby? What? Who said anything about a baby?”

He laughed, loudly. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest.

“Of course, they fucking left that to me. There’s a clause in the contract,” he said, “requiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.”

You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?

“You seriously didn’t read your own marriage contract?” The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldn’t help it.

“They didn’t give me any time,” you said, quietly. “They just made me sign it.”

“And you always do what you’re told, don’t you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.” He said it the same way he’d called you polite when he’d first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. You’d never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

He chuckled humorlessly. “We agree on that,” he said. “This whole thing is fucked.”

At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransom’s card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. “Listen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, I’m going to try to salvage my night. You go do,” he gestured vaguely at you, “whatever you need to do. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

And then he was gone and you were alone.

You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that you’d have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parents’ house instead.

Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight.

Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. “We weren’t expecting you tonight,” he said. “How did it go?”

You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. “Please don’t make me do this,” you pleaded.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was. It was awful. He’s– I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me.” Your voice broke, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him.

“Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. You’ll be fine. This is important. To all of us.”

“It’s not nerves!” You were close to shouting, suddenly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesn’t have to be this family, does it? It doesn’t have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. I’m begging you, don’t make me marry him, have a child with him.”

He chuckled lightly. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It won’t feel as scary once the baby is here. You’ll make an excellent mother.”

You just stared at him, agape. He wasn’t listening to anything you had to say. “How could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldn’t have signed!”

His face hardened at that. “You were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.”

“Joseph, please listen to me. I can’t. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t make me do this.”

“You’re being ridiculous. It’s done. Everything’s signed. You signed. Now,” he said and took a drink, “it’s getting late. It’s high time you went home. Hopefully, you’ll be able to calm yourself down there.” And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.

As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.

When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. “How did it go?” he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.

Part Two

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18

@drabblewithfrannybarnes

@thezombieprostitute

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@bval-1

#ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #steve rogers #knives out #captain america #reader insert #arranged marriage au #kris wrote something #more than this #ce characters

489 notes · View notes

bedoballoons · 7 months

Note

Genshin Men headcanon? With a cute Obedient Wive/Girlfriend.

I don't want to put it in too details so I'll just keep it short and simple, basically it's a family thing where the wife have to be obedient with their spouse, but they can break following the spouse order if the spouse request is unreasonable, dangerous and etc. :)

Also can you add Cyno? Thanks

Awe housewife vibes! Also thank you for making it simple for me! Sometimes I find it difficult to understand longer requests so I really appreciate it, I hope you enjoy <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Obedient wife~༺}

CW: Just fluff!, established relationships and reader uses she/her pronouns! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon chérie and my love, Kazuha: Dearest, Neuvillette: Mon amour, Cyno: Beautiful)

(Includes: Lyney, Kazuha, Wanderer, Neuvillette, and Cyno!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hiding his face in the crook of your neck, his eyes lingering on the table set with your delicious cooking, "Thank you my love for preparing this for everyone...it all looks perfect." He placed a gentle kiss against your skin, making your face blush that perfect shade of pink he adored so much...he always knew how to get you flustered, "Anything for you dearest, speaking of which, do you need your clothes ironed? How about your hat, have you organised the tricks in it recently?" You awaited his response eagerly, wanting to do the best for your wonderful husband.

He chuckled softly, placing another sweet kiss on your cheek, "Mon chérie, you've done everything I could ask for, right now the only thing left is to spend time with me while we wait for my siblings...if you'd like to of course." You turned to face him, kissing his lips as if the answer were so obvious...cause it was, "There's nothing else Id rather do."

𑁍༄Kazuha:

"Dearest, could you bring me my sword? Make sure to be careful, even a sheath cannot always contain the blade...I don't want you getting hurt." Kazuha glanced at you from his workstation, flashing that soft sweet smile that always made you swoon and gesturing to his sword not far from you. Even though you didn't know much about weapons, you liked helping him, following his instructions and being the most perfect wife you could be.

You carefully retrieved his sword, watching him with admiration as he sharpened the edges and repaired the handle, by the time he was finished it looked like new again and you were in awe. "You look amazed..., I promise this isn't as impressive as how I handle the blade. " He gently moved your hair away from your face and kissed your forehead, hoping to impress you even more later on.

𑁍༄Wanderer:

You loved Wanderer with all your heart, you enjoyed pleasing him with home cooked meals, a clean house, but most of all you enjoyed his little requests he'd make. Most of them when the two of you were alone, he'd ask you to sit in his lap and talk with him about his day, or he'd ask for many kisses because he was truthfully addicted to them at this point.

Only issue was, every now and again when the two of you were in public and he was feeling particularly jealous he'd request...more forward things, not that consent was a issue, the two of you were married after all, but with so many people around...you had a hard time giving him what he wanted.

"Come on...just one extra deep kiss, I want to make sure everyone knows you're my wife, especially that annoying server who kept eyeing you." Your face was more than a little blushed, the server and most of the customers watching the two of you like you were modern day entertainment...but there wasn't anything wrong with what wanderer wanted...so you couldn't just say no...

"Very well...one more kiss..."

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

You set a stack of documents on Neuvillettes desk, straightening out any other loose papers for him and taking his crystal clear cup so you refill it with some more water, "Neuvillette, can I get you anything else?" He looked up from his work, his eyes instantly filling with warmth when they met yours...sometimes he got so wrapped up in his cases he forgot how gorgeous and sweet you were, "Mon amour...I apologize for not saying thank you earlier...I was to focused on my work. You've done more than enough for me, I appreciate it immensely...in fact I'm not sure what I would do without you."

You blushed at his kind words and leaned in to give him a kiss, his hand intertwining with yours while the other touched your cheek, "I love you Neuvillette."

"I love you too."

𑁍༄Cyno:

Cyno held your hand softly, walking with you around the many shops in Sumeru city, keeping a eye out for any wrong doers while you picked out fresh food for dinner. This time you held up a water melon for him, wondering if he'd like it for dessert... "Hmm what about this for desert honey?" He looked at the fruit for a moment, smiling in a way you knew meant he had a joke he wanted to tell you, "I'd have to arrest you for a melony if you don't make that for desert...get it? Melony, felony?"

You giggled happily and reached over to grab some more vegetables, holding up a carrot with a mischievous smile, "I get it...but I'm afraid I do not carrot all for your joke." You winked at him and he had to stand there for a minute to recuperate, he was actually dazed from falling for you so hard...all over again, "I...I love you so much. Never leave me..."

"Your wish is my command my love."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

646 notes · View notes

j3llyd0nut · 1 month

Text

Calm husband x Assertive wife headcanons

DI!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

A/N: heavily inspired by safa and fahad’s relationship from dubai bling.

Leon with a wife who is a bit of a firecracker—she's got that bratty streak, a stubborn side, and isn't afraid to speak her mind. But beneath all that, she's also incredibly understanding, compassionate, and fiercely loyal (only to him and her loved ones).

After all he's been through, he's looking for someone who can keep him grounded, bring him back down to earth, or just take charge in the relationship. He wants to be pampered and taken care of.

Leon, who's all about going with the flow, has this "it is what it is" mindset, but you, his wife, are the one who calls the shots on his behalf. As Leon grew older, he stopped giving fucks except for his darling wife.

Take driving, for example. If someone cuts him off, he's the type to shrug it off. But you? You're the one with road rage, ready to give them a piece of your mind. And when his order gets messed up, he'll just eat it, but not you. You'll be marching up to the manager, making sure he gets what he paid for because, hey, it's all about getting your his money's worth.

"Sweetheart, it's fine, really," he said, offering a small smile.

"No, it's not. You specifically said no chilli. And what do they do? Add it in anyway. It's like they're gunning for you," you replied, clearly irritated and a tad dramatic. Poor white man can't handle his spice.

Sometimes you'd push the limit, and he'd have your back. But once you're home and out of the public eye, he'll give you a lecture about where you went wrong. It might take you a minute to actually hear him out because, let's face it, you're stubborn. But he's got his tricks to make sure you eventually listen, if you know what I mean.

People might raise eyebrows at your marriage because you two are total opposites. They whisper nonsense behind your back because of your straightforwardness and confidence, and that's something Leon doesn't let slide. That's when he gives a damn, because nobody gets to badmouth his wife.

"I heard Leon's wife is quite controlling. Poor guy can't even make a decision without her approval," someone remarked, their tone condescending.

"Excuse me," Leon quickly interjected. "Let me make one thing clear: my wife is not controlling. Decisions in our marriage are made together, as equals."

“And if I hear anyone disrespecting her again, there will be consequences. Understood?" His tone was firm as he addressed his subordinates with a hard gaze.

"Yes sir," the subordinates replied hastily, scrambling to return to their tasks.

This might have been the only instance he'd wield his authority as the top agent, but it was a line he wouldn't allow anyone to cross.

What really makes your relationship click is the mutual respect and understanding you both share, along with your shared drive and ambition. You get that his job can eat up a lot of his time, with weeks and even months away from home, and sure, it gets to you sometimes. But he's pretty good at making it up to you (material gestures and physical affection).

Leon really appreciates how you get his career demands, and he's all for you pursuing your own career path too. He'd rather see you doing your thing than stuck at home while he's away. However, if and when you decide to have children, he might lean towards the idea of you being a stay-at-home mom, though ultimately, he respects it's entirely your decision.

As for that tracker thing, it's not about being controlling; it's more about being protective. With him going on those risky missions, you like having a way to keep tabs on him and make sure he's safe. At first, he wasn't too keen on the idea, but when you explained how it eases your mind, he kinda got it. Plus, it's kinda fun to mess around with it sometimes, right?

“Hey, where'd you sneak off to earlier?" you asked with a mock sternness, tapping your foot as Leon entered the room. "Your little dot disappeared for a while there."

Leon raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "What are you talking about? I've been right here the whole time."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Oh really? Because according to the tracker, you vanished into thin air."

A grin spread across Leon's face as he produced a cup of boba from behind his back, "I may have noticed a certain someone was feeling a bit down, so I thought I'd surprise her with her favourite pick-me-up.”

“Aw, Leon!” you exclaimed, jumping on him and nearly causing him to drop the boba and possibly break his back in the process.

#leon kennedy x reader #death island leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy headcanons #resident evil headcanons #death island leon #✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

353 notes · View notes

pagesoflauren · 5 months

Text

Calamitous Love Collection: Delicate Beginning Rush (1/4

ex veteran!Steve Rogers x reader

Premise: Steve Rogers blows into town in search of some estranged family. As he settles into civilian life, he realizes leaving work is hard and perhaps the world will never stop needing him.

Warnings: depictions of PTSD, mentions of abandonment by a romantic partner, complex familial dynamics, sexual content.

Thank you as always to @eightcevanscentral. And thank you to you all, for not forgetting me. I'm happy to write again.

Main Masterlist

Ari blinks mutely at the stranger-who’s-not-actually-a-stranger sitting in his armchair, where he made himself comfortable without permission. With the information that was just revealed to him, he’s a little more possessive of every molecule in the cabin.

His mother had opened the door, then stole everyone’s attention with her shocked gasp and the shrill sound of glass hitting the floor. Ari had rushed in and his wife, asleep on the couch, woke up and surveyed the surroundings.

Soon enough, everyone was baffled by the appearance of a man named Steve Rogers claiming to be Albert Levinson’s half-brother.

As Ari continues to stew over everything he just learned, his wife pipes up, “Give him a moment.”

“I’m going to need several moments,” he adds quickly, his voice dripping with his confusion. “You’re going to waltz in here and tell me that my dad’s father,” Ari begins, using hand gestures to help him keep track of all the people he’s about to mention, “My grandpa Alexander–whose last name is actually Rogers–left my grandmother Andrea Levinson and ran off with some other woman and had you?”

“That’s correct,” Steve says bluntly.

“And that makes you,” Ari points an incredulous finger at him, “My dad’s half-brother, and my half-uncle.”

“Correct again. Except, ‘half-uncle’ is a little odd to say because I’m about twenty years younger than your father. I’m probably only a few years older than you.”

“No,” Ari denies immediately, getting up from his spot next to his wife. “Nope, this is a dream. This is some crazy, twisted reality that I’ve been trapped in–”

“Ari, dear,” Bunny sighs, “This isn’t a dream, I promise. And…that’s kind of how family trees work.”

“And he’s not wrong,” Marcella adds plainly.

All eyes shift to her.

“You knew?!” Ari shouts, earning a stern look from him mother, which he quickly counters with an apology. “But…mom, why didn’t you tell me?” he whines.

The women in the room roll their eyes and Bunny turns to Steve as Marcella begins to explain the matter to her son. “I apologize for my husband’s behavior. As you can tell, this news is quite a shock to him.”

“I can’t say I blame him,” Steve shrugs.

She mirrors his gesture, then offers him something to drink.

“If it wouldn’t trouble you to get some water, I’d appreciate it.”

“Not a bother at all,” she waves him off before getting up, walking past the other two in the room and drawing Steve’s attention to them.

“...Your father and I just didn’t think it was so important. They lived such separate lives, anyway. And think about it, what does this change, after all? You still have this house, you have your wife, you have me.”

“I just can’t imagine leaving,” he sighs, eyes drifting to his wife in the kitchen, standing on her toes to grab a glass all the way in the back of the cupboard.

He’s told her many times to stop that out of worry she’d overextend the delicate tendons of her ankles. Went as far as building a step stool she doesn’t even use; he huffs a laugh to himself as he watches her move to the fridge and take out the water pitcher. The liquid sloshes with the movement and swaying of the various fruits she had put to make it just a little bit more refreshing.

Strawberries, mint, and watermelon in his water; her hands in his; holes in his shirts with constantly fresh stitches; the prospect of filling frames with pictures of a growing family; she was home to him. How could he ever think about abandoning it?

The idea that his grandfather did something he can’t begin to understand, that’s what sits in his stomach and tangles up his insides.

Steve didn’t do that. He was just the product of it.

His eyes follow his wife as she walks back into the living area, handing him a glass of water.

“Thank you,” he says softly, taking a sip before his eyes meet Ari’s.

“Do you have a place to stay?” Ari asks.

“I was going to shack up at the inn after this.”

“No need,” Ari shakes his head. “We have plenty of room here.”

“Are you sure?” Steve chuckles slightly, “I think I broke your brain when I walked in and told my story. Seems like staying over would rock the boat even more.”

The air in the cabin suddenly lightens, tension fading away as everyone laughs.

“On the contrary, what better way to get to know your family than by staying with us?”

Steve shrugs and smiles, “Well, I guess I better get my things then.”

Ari offers his help and the two men begin to bring Steve’s bags into the cabin. There isn’t much, about three pieces of baggage to bring in.

When they shut the door and appear to get settled, Marcella pipes up, “Oh good, you’re done.”

“Mama, what are you doing?” he asks, watching as she settles the strap of her purse on her shoulder.

“I’m ready to go to town to get my nails done.”

“Ma, I told you this morning–”

“Right, you have some silly little project to work on and my lovely daughter-in-law is cooking for the week.”

“I don’t think fixing a leak in the sink is–”

“Yeah, that one,” she waves him off, “Anyway, as I was saying, I wasn’t asking you to bring me. Steve has a car.”

“Ma, he’s a guest–”

She scoffs, “Oh, please, he’s family, and it would give him a chance to explore the town a bit. Doesn’t that sound great, Steve?”

Mute from being put on the spot, Steve takes a moment to process before agreeing to do it.

“See? Everyone’s happy!” Marcella chastises Ari.

She makes her way out the front door and the men hear a snort from the kitchen.

Bunny pauses and looks up from the vegetables she’s chopping, “Welcome to the family, Steve.”

- - -

After dropping Marcella off at the salon, Steve found a spot under a tree to park in.

Stepping out of the car, the main avenue of the town looked familiar and foreign at the same time.

It was a typical American small town busy road: cars parked along the sidewalk, wide streets and walkways, stores directly next door to one another, hustle and bustle. Every American knows it, and it’s likely non-Americans know it too.

But when was the last time Steve saw one for himself?

It wasn’t that long ago, but it feels like it was.

Before the jet rides to quickly get from place to place. Before the case files and research. Before commlinks and codes. Before sleepless nights planning missions and long days carrying them out. Days would turn into weeks, weeks into months, months into years.

He’s given so much of his life and focus into it that he doesn’t remember life where he wasn’t doing it. He knows there was something before it because every adult has memories of growing up, being a child, and going to high school.

In Steve’s brain, those recollections are locked away in a corner of his brain he locked away to be able to do his job.

The things he was afraid of as a kid, the insecurities that held him back as a teenager, the innocence everyone has before becoming an adult; he lost touch with all of it, lost touch with himself.

It had gone too far on the last mission. His friend sent him home with the promise the team would be okay without him.

The voice of a conversing family draws him out of his dazed state, catching a glimpse of two kids skipping while their parents gently caution them.

Sighing, Steve moves onto the sidewalk and begins to walk down the street. When a door swings open, he sees the brief image of his walk: stiff, arms swinging in tight control and calculated steps as if he’s back at boot camp.

Slowing his pace, he thinks about how to appear more casual; he is, after all, a civilian now.

Relax, Rogers, he can hear Natasha say. No, seriously. We’re supposed to be walking through the mall, not running to the drill sergeant’s back and call.

He lets his shoulders deflate, shoves his hands in his pockets, and tries to find a comfortable pattern of steps.

While he can’t be certain, Steve has that nagging feeling that he looks like an idiot.

Pursing his lips, he decides to distract himself by looking at the various window displays along the sidewalk. There’s a certain small town comfort that comes from the bright colors and fun arrangements that are meant to attract customers. Different phrases like “fun in the sun” emulate the summer air, while silly props like turtle-shaped inner tubes evoke a type of nostalgia that most people are lucky to have when thinking of their long breaks from school.

Steve knows in the dark annals of his mind, those memories are there.

Before he can deep dive into retrieving them while staring at a flamingo pool floatie, he’s interrupted by a parent pulling his son out from a nearby store.

“Why can’t I have him now?!”

“If you can do your chores consistently for a month, we’ll talk about it. Puppies aren’t toys. They’re a responsibility, like your chores. And you keep putting those off.”

The conversation fades as Steve draws closer to the door the pair just exited, peering into the window.

A handful of dogs of all ages yip and bark, some playing by themselves while others tumble around and bite each other softly. Their kennels line one wall, while the other wall is filled with two housings; one for a molly cat and a litter of kittens and another empty one, the door slightly ajar.

Intrigued, Steve pushes the door open.

The dogs all perk up at his entrance, some standing and wagging their tails, ears high with attention, while others bark at him.

A woman rushes in from the back, a slightly resigned look on her face.

“C’mon you all,” you sigh, “You know that’s not the right way to greet somebody, especially if you wanna get adopted.”

Standing in front of some of the kennels, you stick your hands through the bars to nudge some chewing toys towards the more excited canines before turning to the other wall to attend to the kittens.

“Sorry, Mocha, let me put this down and your kitties can keep feeding.”

As you pull down a makeshift shade to block the front of the kennel, Steve realizes the missing feline from the other cubby is perched on your shoulder, tail swinging in satisfaction as it maintains perfect balance as you walk around.

“Hi, I’m so sorry,” you greet him, “Some of the puppies are still in training. And Major over there is a rescue; he’s been through it, so he’s still warming up.”

He follows your gesture towards a large German Shepherd standing on his hind legs.

Reaching up, you remove the cat from your shoulder and laugh when it hooks its claws into your shirt.

“Shadow, we have a guest,” you giggle, and Steve feels a lump in his throat. Negotiating the claws out of the fabric, you rest Shadow onto your arm. “This cat’s been here for a while. He’s followed me since he was a kitten, and he’s got this beautiful black coat, so I figured ‘Shadow’ was a great name. Isn’t he lovely?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Oops, leave it to me to introduce the cat before myself,” you joke, tapping your forehead to point out your forgetfulness. You offer your hand as you give him your name. “It’s nice to meet you. I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I don’t think I’ve seen you before?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have,” he waves you off, “I just got here today.”

“Well, welcome to Barber. What brings you to town?”

“Some long lost family.”

“Which one?” you ask, interest piqued. Then, your eyes widen bashfully, “Sorry, that was so invasive.”

“No, it’s alright,” Steve smiles, “I, um…do you know the Levinsons?”

“Oh Ari and Marcella! And Ari’s wife, of course. Yes, I love them. Marcella came in once and nearly snuck one of the kittens out in her jacket. Not that she was stealing from me, but she wanted to try to get it past her son. He wasn’t having it; though I think he would benefit from a kitten. He’s so gruff–oh my God, I talked way too much.”

The blond laughs and you think you might swoon. Setting Shadow down to wander around the shelter, you try to keep things professional. “So, what brings you in? Just here for some puppy therapy, looking around?”

“Well, if Ari doesn’t want a kitten in the cabin, I imagine he wouldn’t want a puppy,” Steve begins, looking at the dogs. “But I hear they’re good for…um…”

He pauses and you keep your posture, looking at him attentively as he tries to find his words.

“I’ve heard that adopting an animal could be good for a returning veteran.”

“Oh,” you comment, “Yes! I mean, that’s easy for me to say because I run the shelter; but really it’s easy to recommend a pet to anyone who is considering it. A father and son were just in here and the only thing that stopped me was the fact that the father was saying his son doesn’t tend to his chores. But I think with the right guidance, his son could be a good dog companion.

“In your case, though, I would say it could help you feel more adjusted. You’ll have something to do and a friend who will love you unconditionally. But, seeing that you just got to Barber…”

“It’s probably best to wait before I make a decision,” Steve finishes for you.

“Exactly,” you smile, “We’re on the same page.”

A few beats of silence pass over the two of you before you break it. “Would you like to still look around? You’re welcome to. I’m sure the dogs would be happy to interact with someone other than me.”

Taking you up on your offer, Steve accepts the bowl of treats you hand him and listens attentively as you specify that each puppy only gets one treat. “And don’t fall for the puppy eyes. You laugh now and think I’m joking but these guys are good at what they do.”

Approaching the first kennel, the chubby puppy with round ears perks up and yips, excited for an interaction. A rush of happiness fills Steve’s chest, helping him relax as he wedges two fingers between the bar to give the little guy a couple head scratches. Then, he reaches down into the bowl, holding the treat for the puppy to bite.

The puppy chews and Steve catches a glance at his description: suspected to be a mix of a Bernese Mountain Dog and a Boxer, the puppy is a boy with a lot of energy. He’s only a few months old and was found wandering in the grocery store and begging for scraps at the deli.

“Well, your name makes sense, Salami,” Steve mutters, making eye contact and, sure enough, as you predicted, he’s begging for more treats. “Damn, she wasn’t kidding. I bet those guys at the deli gave you every scrap they could find before bringing you here.”

“Oh they did,” you respond from behind the counter. Looking up from your paperwork, your gaze switches between Steve and Salami. “You should’ve seen him. You think he has a soft tummy now, he was a complete pot belly when he was done over there.”

The two of you share a laugh as Steve tries to conjure the image in his head.

Every puppy has an anecdote to go with it, he finds out as he continues through the shelter. Some are happier than others, and it shows in your face as you tell the stories. Some even make your voice clog with emotion and you have to take a deep breath.

“Sorry,” you sigh, “That’s what, the fifth time? Gosh, I have got to get it together.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, then quickly changes the conversation to focus on the last puppy. “What about Willow? Anything about her?”

“She’s the sweetest little thing. She’s got to be some golden retriever mix, I just can’t put my finger on the other breed. But, anyway, she found by Ari, your…?”

“Nephew.”

“Your nephew–” You start to go with it, until it registers that Ari and Steve appear to be the same age. Your voice catches as the gears turn in your head.

“Long story, I’ll tell you after this one.”

“Got it,” you agree. “Anyway, Ari brought her in. She was hiding under a pile of lumber that he was about to deliver. Apparently she led him on a wild chase around the lumber yard. When he brought her in, he was all sweaty and grumpy.”

“I think he’s always grumpy.”

“Seems like it. I don’t know how his wife and mother deal with it. But, yeah, that’s Willow’s story. I figured since she was found in the lumber yard, I should name her after a type of tree. I also thought about just naming her ‘Timber’ or something but I liked Willow.”

“I like it, too,” Steve says, looking back at the puppy. When his eyes meet hers, he realizes she never stopped looking at him while he was speaking to you.

She gives him a dopey smile, tongue hanging out as she pants in excitement at the sight of him.

“Looks like you two are having a moment,” you remark.

It all falls away at the sound of his phone ringing, causing a cacophony of barks and howls to arise.

You try to calm the dogs down as Steve clumsily finds a surface to put the snack bowl down while answering the phone.

“Hi Steve!” Marcella trills on the other line. “I’m all ready to go!”

“Oh, okay, Marcella, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Okay see you soon!”

The call ends there and you’re still trying to get the dogs to settle.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think my ringer was on.”

“That’s okay, it happens,” you brush him off. “I’m glad to have met you! Hope to see you around. Or hope you come back for Willow.”

“Yeah, it was great to meet you too.” He lingers for a moment, wanting to say more but no words seem to be right. “Actually, before I go, could I take a picture of Willow?”

“Sure, do you want to hold her?”

His face shows his nerves before he can express them, so you quickly retract your statement and turn to bring her out of her kennel.

Propping her up in your arms, you do your best to get her to look towards Steve’s phone.

“Oh, you can smile, too. You’re in it.”

“Oh, okay!”

Your smile is bright, radiating a warmth that Steve doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

When the picture is taken and it’s truly time for him to go, the memory of that grin makes it difficult to leave.

As Steve walks down the avenue, he types a message to Bucky.

Life in Barber is off to an interesting start. Met the sister-in-law, the nephew, and the niece-in-law. But I think my favorite is Willow (picture coming)

After sending the picture of you and the puppy, he sees Bucky immediately start typing, his response brief but effective.

Who’s the girl? 👀

She runs the shelter.

Anyone of interest?

Steve takes a moment to come up with a reply, triggering Bucky’s impatience.

Or maybe not yet.

But she seems like your type, so I think it would be a person of interest.

Rolling his eyes, Steve types a message simple enough to end the conversation there:

Maybe.

------------------

Tags: @crazyunsexycool @blackwidownat2814 @brandycranby

#ficsofpagesoflauren #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert

156 notes · View notes

kckt88 · 4 months

Text

Take My Breath Away XIII.

Summary:

A new Targaryen is born and Aegon does something stupid.

Warning(s): Language, Surprise Pregnancy, Time Skip, P in V Sex, Child Birth, Kiss, Realisation.

A.N - Features an Aegon POV.

Word Count: 4670

GREENS WIN - ENEMIES TO LOVERS.

Tag List - @ammo23, @immyowndefender,

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“Where is he?” shouted Vaeryna.

“Who?” asked Rhaegar.

“Your father, I’m going to kill him” replied Vaeryna.

“H-He’s with the King” exclaimed Rhaegar.

Vaeryna turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving a stunned Rhaegar staring at his mother’s retreating form.

The walk to Aegon’s rooms wasn’t to far, but it was enough for Vaeryna to work herself up and by the time she reached her destination, she was ready to give Aemond a piece of her mind.

After she took a deep breath, Vaeryna didn’t bother to knock as she just shoved open the door and hastily looked around the room for the object of her ire.

“My love, what brings you here?”

“YOU” snarled Vaeryna.

“Oh gods, what have you done” exclaimed Aegon as he cautiously backed away from Vaeryna.

“I-I don’t know” muttered Aemond.

“Oh, you don’t know-how about I refresh your memory husband. That afternoon we spent in bed, and you said you was going to put another babe in me” replied Vaeryna.

“You don’t mean-“

“-Yes, I’ve just been to see the Maester, and he’s confirmed that I’m with child again” said Vaeryna, her amethyst eyes alight with fury.

“For the love of seven, another one?” gasped Aegon.

“Issa prūmia” whispered Aemond (My heart).

“Damn you with your big cock and fertile fucking seed” quipped Vaeryna.

“I feel like I should not be part of this conversation” muttered Aegon.

“This is all your fault” said Vaeryna.

“Me? I don’t think so-it’s super seed over here” replied Aegon gesturing to Aemond who held his hands up in mock surrender but couldn’t stop the smirk from spreading across his face.

“I don’t know exactly how this is your fault, but it is he’s your brother so there”.

“My love a child is a blessing from-“

“-Don’t even dare finish that sentence or I will have your tongue ripped out” said Vaeryna.

“As I recall, you were a willing participant in the creation of our child, you even agreed to let me put my seed in you multiple times” replied Aemond.

“I-I was in the throes of my peak I wasn’t truly aware-“ stuttered Vaeryna blushing.

“-So, you didn’t mean it when you said that I was the best lover you’ve ever had, and you wished that I could keep my cock stuffed inside you at all times?” said Aemond smirking.

“Oh, you-just shut up. Besides you’re the only lover I’ve had” snarked Vaeryna.

“Even after all these years of marriage, I still love it when you blush like a maiden” muttered Aemond as he wrapped his arms around his wife.

“Is that all you love about me?” mused Vaeryna.

Aemond smiled and shook his head, he went to kiss Vaeryna but then he remembered that Aegon was there, staring at the two of them with a completely bewildered expression upon his face.

“You two are enough to drive a man to drink” muttered Aegon.

“Well, you already drink so how does that work?” replied Vaeryna as she began pressing gentle kisses to Aemond’s scared cheek.

“Hm ābrazȳrys” growled Aemond as Vaeryna lowered her mouth and began nipping and sucking his neck (Wife).

“Issa nēdenka zaldrīzes” whispered Vaeryna (My fierce dragon).

Aemond could feel himself growing hard in his breeches, his desire for his wife quickly roaring to life, coursing through every fibre of his being. He needed to regain control and fast otherwise he’d end up ravishing her right there.

“My love, we cannot do this here. L-Let us go to our chambers” whispered Aemond as he gently squeezed his wife’s rear.

“Then I suggest we make all haste husband; I seem to have developed a desire for you to Obūljagon issa toliot se gūrogon issa hen inkot” said Vaeryna (Bend me over and take me from behind).

“I know the language of our forebears as well you know” muttered Aegon as he pressed his hands over his ears.

“Come wife, let me sate your desire” said Aemond as he took Vaeryna’s hand and dragged her out of the room, leaving a slightly jealous and flustered Aegon in their wake.

The news of Vaeryna’s pregnancy was taken quite well.

It was important that all the children were informed and on board with the fact that they would have another sibling.

“How did the babe get in mama’s tummy?” asked Saeryna.

“Father put it in there” replied Jaehaeryn.

“How?”

“That’s a conversation for when your older” said Aemond frowning.

“Why?” asked Saeryna tilting her head to the side.

“Because you’re a little young at the moment” said Aemond closing his eye and taking a deep breath.

“But I am almost seven name days old” retorted Saeryna.

“Add another fifty million name days onto that and then I might think about telling you.”

“Oh, Kepa your being very silly” laughed Saeryna (Father).

“You know what else is silly?” asked Aemond smiling.

“No what?” asked Saeryna, her eyes wide.

“The tickle monster” exclaimed Aemond as he grabbed hold of Saeryna and began tickling her.

Saeryna’s delighted squeals of laughter echoed around the chamber and soon all of the younger children were set upon by the dangerous tickle monster.

Vaeryna loved watching Aemond with their children. His love for their family was boundless, and every day Vaeryna was thankful to have been blessed in such a manner.

Suddenly a knock at the door broke the tickle monsters reign of terror and Aegon appeared.

“UNCLE AEGON”

“Oh, my so many children at once” gasped Aegon as he was set upon by Saeryna and Caelee.

“Brother” said Aemond as he nodded politely.

“I guess the news of another babe was well received?” asked Aegon as he picked up Caelee and bounced her in his arms.

“Apart from Saeryna asking where babes come from and Jaehaeryn telling her that I put it in there” replied Aemond quietly.

“Well, he’s not wrong, you did put it in there-a lot from what I’ve heard”.

“Spying on me and my lady wife, are you?” asked Aemond narrowing his eye.

“Gods no. I like my skin attached to my body thank you-but I’ve heard you both a time or two that’s all. Mayhaps you should learn to be a bit quieter when you come” said Aegon smirking.

“Halt your vulgarity in from of my children” snapped Aemond as he hauled Caelee from Aegon’s arms and placed her on Jaehaera’s knee.

“Might want to make sure your wife covers up her neck then-I can see the love bites from here, gods brother you should really learn to be gentler”.

“-And you should learn when to close that mouth of yours” snapped Aemond.

“Where’s the fun in that?” exclaimed Aegon as he waltzed past Aemond and sat next to Jaehaera.

“Easy there father, if looks could kill,” said Rhaegar.

“Then my brother would be long dead, and I would free of his sarcastic attitude and punchable face” replied Aemond.

“Come, have some wine. Let us celebrate the new babe,” said Rhaegar.

“Hm” replied Aemond as he spied Daenerys huddled in the corner talking to Aegon the Younger.

“Relax. Their only talking” urged Vaeryna softly as she placed a hand on Aemond’s lower back.

“For now,” muttered Aemond.

“Mother, your neck” said Rhaegar quietly.

“Apologize son, it seems as though I was attacked by a mindless beast” replied Vaeryna.

“Mindless? I knew exactly what I was doing” exclaimed Aemond.

“I did not need to hear that-gods you two are so gross” gasped Rhaegar as he moved away from his parents.

“Is everything ok my love-you look a little pale”.

“I’m a Targaryen, I always look pale” said Vaeryna grimacing as her stomach churned.

“No, seriously you look-“

“-I-I’m going to be sick” exclaimed Vaeryna as she ran to the nearest vase and threw up.

“Mama sick” gasped Caelee nervously.

“It’s ok sweet girl, sometimes having a babe can make the mama’s sick” whispered Jaehaera.

“But your not sick” replied Caelee.

“Wait-what?” asked Vaeryna as she looked towards Jaehaera who blushed furiously.

“Oh, well I-I think that I might be with child” said Jaehaera softly.

“Really? That’s fantastic” said Vaeryna smiling before she threw up again.

“I-I’m going to be a father?” asked Rhaegar as he took Jaehaera’s hand.

“We need to have it confirmed my the Maester” replied Jaehaera softly.

“Another baby” shrieked Vharla.

“Will that make me an uncle?” asked Aerys.

“Yes, it will” said Jaehaera smiling.

“My love, this is wonderful” said Rhaegar smiling.

“I’m going to be a grandsire” muttered Aemond scowling at Aegon the Younger who snickered.

“-Who’s about to have another child. Easy their gramps-wouldn’t want you to break a hip or anything” said Aegon holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“You’re going to be a grandsire too you insufferable twat” spat Aemond.

“Shit, your right” exclaimed Aegon.

This was definitely her last babe.

Vaeryna had felt awful for the entirety of her term, the sickness was incomprehensible, and the back ache was dreadful.

There were of course rare days where she could actually walk around without feeling like her spine was about to disintegrate and on those days Vaeryna would sit with Jaehaera and the younger children in the gardens and enjoy the sun.

Ever since she discovered that she was with child, Jaehaera would often lean on Vaeryna for support, as she was incredibly nervous.

Not to mention Rhaegar at the age of six and ten was also a bag of nerves and would regularly consult with his father on how to support his lady wife during her labours.

Aemond of course was on hand to assuage any fears his oldest son had and would often provide him some much-needed advice.

Even Alicent in her advancing years was on hand to offer her aide, although her ramblings about the faith of the seven often left Rhaegar with a headache, so he tended to avoid spending too much time in his grandmothers presence.

Saeryna of course still followed Aegon everywhere and Vharla had take a shine to her other uncle Aegon and they would often be spotted in each other’s company, which pleased Vaeryna greatly.

Aerys and Jaehaeryn were of course thick as thieves and would find themselves in bother, whether it was with the kitchen staff for stealing sweets or the septas for skipping their lessons.

Daenerys was the only one of her children who seemed tolerant of her grandmothers lectures on faith and duty, and would often spend hours in her company, but as it turned out she was only tolerant because she would stick cotton wool in her ears to drown out the sound of Alicent’s voice, a trick apparently her uncle Aegon taught her when she was a child.

Aemond of course was not amused when he found out and almost gave his brother a damn good thrashing before Daenerys intervened.

Of course, Aemond had other matters to attend too.

“Gods when will this end” groused Vaeryna as Aemond rubbed her swollen stomach.

“I’m sorry your so uncomfortable my love” whispered Aemond.

“This is the last one Aemond. I cannot do this anymore” mumbled Vaeryna.

“You have given me seven children-soon to be eight, there will be no more babes after this”.

“I love you very much you know” said Vaeryna softly.

“-And I love you my beautiful wife” muttered Aemond as he began pressing soft kisses to her swollen stomach.

“Aemond” moaned Vaeryna.

“Is there something you need my sweet?” asked Aemond.

“Y-You-I need you to help get this babe out of me” exclaimed Vaeryna as Aemond carefully manoeuvred her onto her side and laid behind her.

“As you wish” replied Aemond, pressing a kiss to her shoulder as he took hold of his hard cock and pressed it into her warm wet folds.

“Oh, gods Aemond. Yes, right there” moaned Vaeryna as she pushed back against him.

“My wife, my love” gasped Aemond as he increased the pace of his thrusts.

Usually, their love making was passionate and all consuming, but today it was gentle and sweet.

Aemond delighted in the little moans his wife would make as she approached her peak, her pregnancy had made her more sensitive and Aemond relished every opportunity he had to be inside his willing wife.

“P-Please, husband. I-I’m going to-“ exclaimed Vaeryna.

Aemond pressed his face into Vaeryna’s shoulder and groaned as he felt her cunny clenching around him.

“That’s it, my love. Come for me” moaned Aemond as he pressed a finger to Vaeryna’s pearl and began stroking it in tandem with his thrusts.

“Oh, gods Aemond, don’t stop. Please don’t stop” begged Vaeryna.

“Yes wife-“ gasped Aemond as he felt his own peak approaching.

“-AEMOND” screamed Vaeryna as she exploded.

“FUCK” roared Aemond as he spilled rope after rope of seed inside her.

“I love you so fucking much” exclaimed Vaeryna.

“-Love you too my Idañnykeā perzys” replied Aemond softly (Twin flame).

“ōños hen issa glaeson” replied Vaeryna (Light of my life).

“-Should you be here?” asked Aegon.

“Aemond is flying with Vhagar, and I wanted some company” replied Vaeryna as she braced her weight on the table and slowly sat down.

“You look like your about to pop at any moment” said Aegon.

“Oh, believe me I know. I’ve tried everything to get the babe out-walking, spicy food, I even tried some rank tea that Maester Munkun suggested and nothing” exclaimed Vaeryna.

“-Have you and Aemond-you know?”

“I’ve taken his cock everyday sometimes more than once; in every position I can manage and still nothing” said Vaeryna.

“Thanks for that vivid depiction” muttered Aegon.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t enjoy the thought” quipped Vaeryna smirking.

“You know most wives would feel uncomfortable knowing that someone else lusts after their husband” retorted Aegon as he took a sip of wine.

“I’m not like most wives; besides I know Aemond would never stick his cock in another person-not without my consent anyway” said Vaeryna.

“Your not wrong there, I’ve never known a man be so cuntstruck”.

“It’s called being in love” said Vaeryna.

“As much as I think of you both-I know nothing would ever come of it”.

“Wait-what did you just say?” asked Vaeryna.

“N-Nothing” stammered Aegon.

“Y-You said both-” replied Vaeryna her eyes going wide as a sharp pain shot across her stomach.

“I-Is everything ok?”.

“The babe is coming” gasped Vaeryna as the was a sudden rush of water between her legs.

“W-We need to get the Maester” exclaimed Aegon as he sprang out of his chair.

“Just remain calm-oh fuck” shrieked Vaeryna as a series of contractions tore across her stomach.

“W-What should I do” exclaimed Aegon.

“I-I need you to help me” exclaimed Vaeryna as she doubled over in pain.

“Y-Yes I’ll help you to your chambers” replied Aegon as he helped Vaeryna to stand up.

“N-No, it’s coming-now I can feel it” urged Vaeryna.

“Surely it cannot come this fast” grumbled Aegon.

“I-It is coming that fast, Aegon I-I need you to help me take off my small clothes”.

“I’m not entirely comfortable with that” muttered Aegon.

“STOP BEING A GIRL AND FUCKING HELP ME” yelled Vaeryna.

“This is not the way I envisioned taking off your small clothes” replied Aegon as he reached under Vaeryna’s skirt.

“What?” gasped Vaeryna.

“N-Nothing” said Aegon quickly discarding his good sister’s small clothes.

“I need you to look” urged Vaeryna as she sunk to the floor and pressed her back against the wall.

“I-I don’t want to see that”.

“JUST FUCKING LOOK” balled Vaeryna as another contraction ripped across her stomach.

Aegon let out a small whimper of protest as he descended to his knees and slowly looked between Vaeryna’s open legs.

“What can you see?”

“I-I think I see the head and there’s some other stuff that I’m going to pretend I don’t see-oh gods this is so gross, I should not be seeing you in this way” said Aegon grimacing.

Gods, how did his absolute twat of a brother manage to do this seven times? How he managed to remain steadfast at his wife’s side as she birthed their babes was something Aegon would never know.

“I don’t have anyone else. P-Please Aegon, don’t leave me” cried Vaeryna as Aegon began backing away from her, his face even paler than usual.

“I-I’m not sure I’m the right person for this” replied Aegon.

“Please, I need you” begged Vaeryna.

Aegon shook like a leaf as he watched his good sister cry, the tears rolled down her sweat drenched face and something inside him shifted into place, she needed him, even if Aemond would more than likely skin him alive, he couldn’t leave her. Not now.

“I’m not leaving you” said Aegon sternly.

“I want AEMOND” screamed Vaeryna.

“You and me both” quipped Aegon, oh why did Aemond have to go flying with Vhagar today, the selfish prick could have waited.

“I-Is it coming?” asked Vaeryna as she took a deep breath and pushed.

Aegon steeled himself for what he was about to see and prayed to the seven that Aemond would not inflict momentous amounts of pain upon him for what he was about to see.

“Yes, the babe is coming-you’re doing amazing, keep pushing, that’s it” said Aegon.

“I-I’m not sure I can do it anymore” huffed Vaeryna.

“You can do this, you are blood of the dragon, not some weakling mouse. NOW PUSH”

Vaeryna took a deep breath and pushed with every ounce of strength she still possessed.

“The head is out-oh gods it’s so disgusting, but keep going, you’re doing great” said Aegon, grimacing as his stomach churned. Oh boy did he regret consuming that pitcher of wine earlier.

Vaeryna nodded and with one final push, the babe arrived with a wet squelch.

“It’s a boy” shrieked Aegon excitedly as he pulled of his loose cotton shirt and wrapped it around the crying babe.

“I-Is he ok?” asked Vaeryna as he held out her arms expectantly.

“He’s crying well-so I think he’s ok” replied Aegon as he handed the squalling pink babe to Vaeryna, who sobbed with happiness.

Aegon couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward to press a kiss to Vaeryna’s cheek but at the last moment she turned to face him, and his lips pressed against hers.

“S-Sorry I shouldn’t have done that-“ stuttered Aegon as he pulled away in a panic.

“It was an accident-” said Vaeryna softly.

“-Yes-an accident” retorted Aegon quickly, knowing full well that whilst it may have been an accident on her part, it certainly wasn’t on his.

He’d got caught up in the emotion of the situation they were in and something crazy had taken hold of him.

He had fully intended on kissing her, oh gods Aemond was going to kill him.

“T-Thank you for being here, I couldn’t have done this without you” said Vaeryna smiling.

“It’s ok. Just don’t ever ask me to do it again” replied Aegon quietly.

Suddenly the door flew open and Aemond appeared, out of breath and looking flustered.

“It’s about fucking time” snapped Aegon.

“Y-You had t-the babe” exclaimed Aemond in amazement as he knelt down next to Vaeryna.

“No shit” mumbled Aegon.

“It’s a boy” said Vaeryna, her face lit up as she smiled.

“Are you ok?” asked Aemond as he gently stroked his newborn son’s tuft of silver hair.

“I am, thanks to Aegon” said Vaeryna quietly as she gently laid her head on Aemond’s shoulder.

“Thank you, brother,”

“Your welcome” replied Aegon, trying to ignore the odd feelings stirring within him as he gazed at Vaeryna. Their brief kind of accidental kiss was still playing on his mind.

“What shall we call our son?” asked Aemond as he pressed a kiss to his wife’s sweaty forehead.

“Aegar. In honour of his uncle” replied Vaeryna softly.

“A-Are you serious?” exclaimed Aegon, his eyes filling with tears.

“If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know what I would have done” said Vaeryna.

Aegon smiled widely as Maester Munkun finally arrived and the rest of Vaeryna and Aemond’s children appeared, standing at the doorway eagerly waiting for permission to meet their new sibling.

“Come meet Aegar” breathed Aemond proudly as Vaeryna placed their tiny son in his arms.

As Maester Munkun examined Vaeryna and helped her deliver the after birth, which totally grossed Aegon out even more than seeing his good siter give birth, Aemond took Aegar over to his older siblings who immediately began to melt at the tiny bundle in his arms.

“He’s so tiny” whispered Daenerys in awe.

“Congratulations, both of you” said Aegon the Younger.

“He looks like you father” said Rhaegar as he manoeuvred Caelee in his arms so she could meet her new brother.

“No, he doesn’t he looks like an old raisin” said Jaehaeryn.

“Boy are you serious?” asked Aemond.

“Sorry father” muttered Jaehaeryn.

“Oh well done he’s perfect” cooed Jaehaera as she ran a hand along her own swollen stomach.

“I love him already” said Vharla sweetly.

“Can I hold him?” asked Aerys.

“Maybe later ok, remember he’s only just been born, he’ll need feeding soon” replied Aemond softly.

“Would you be able to help take the Princess back to your chambers?” asked Maester Munkun.

“I’ll carry her-Aegon take my son and don’t drop him” said Aemond.

“As if I would” snapped Aegon as he took Aegar into his arms.

Aemond bent down and lifted Vaeryna into his arms, her head rested on his shoulder as she closed her eyes, a small smile on her face.

“Right come on you lots let’s give mother and father some privacy” said Rhaegar as he shooed his siblings out the room.

“But I want to see that baby more” whined Saeryna.

“You can see him on the morrow, sweet girl remember that mother will be tired and Aegar needs to be fed, it’s been a busy day” said Daenerys softly.

“Ok but I want to sew him a teddy, one that looks like a dragon”.

“That sounds wonderful-can I help?” asked Jaehaera.

“Yes, you can and Aerys too” replied Saeryna sweetly.

“Ha-tough luck baby brother” laughed Jaehaeryn.

“-And you can come with me to inform grandmother of her new grandson,” said Rhaegar.

“Rhaegar-no, she’ll talk about the seven” moaned Jaehaeryn.

“Should have thought about that before you opened your mouth-fathers right your too much like uncle Aegon” retorted Rhaegar.

“Which one?”

“Enough-now” snapped Rhaegar as he seized Jaehaeryn by the scruff of the neck and marched him down the corridor.

“Is everything ok brother?” asked Aemond.

“W-What?” asked Aegon.

“You seem a little out of sorts” replied Aemond.

“I’ve seen things today that I wish to forget” muttered Aegon, his accidental-on purpose kiss with Vaeryna kept playing on a loop in his mind.

“Are you sure that’s all that’s bothering you?”

“I-I did something really stupid and now-“

“-Husband, I’m ready to get out the bath” said Vaeryna.

“I need to help Vaeryna, wait there and we can talk after-watch Aegar will you” exclaimed Aemond as he gave his brother one last look of concern before he disappeared into the separate bathing chamber.

Aegon sat on next to the crib that Aegar was currently asleep in, and he looked down at his newly born nephew, the beginnings of an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest.

He felt truly honoured to have his nephew named after him, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Vaeryna.

Their accidental-on purpose kiss had been brief, but Aegon could still remember the feeling of her soft lips upon his.

He’d once confessed that he loved her as his good sister, but over the years as their friendship developed more so had his feelings, sure he had a curiosity about Aemond who wouldn’t, the guy was stunningly beautiful, but his wife gods she was something else.

He wasn’t a very good King and he spent most of his days drunk, but Vaeryna never treated him any less for it, she always spoke to him with unfailing honesty and compassion, she was different from all the women he usually surrounded himself with.

Sure, he was heavily scared below the waist, and he couldn’t sire children anymore but that didn’t stop him from indulging in the pleasures of the flesh from time to time, only his most trusted and favourite whores were invited to keep him company, two females and one male, paid handsomely of course. They were perhaps the richest whores in all of Kings Landing.

Granted he didn’t actually indulge with his male whore all that much, it was more of an itch that needed scratching every so often. It was the females he spent the most time with, they were soft and sweet and sometimes he would close his eyes and pretend that the whore riding him was Vaeryna.

He often felt sick afterwards, much like he did when he would fantasize that the male whore was his brother, he knew Targaryen’s had queer customs, that fact never bothered him it was that he lusted after two people who were so deeply in love with one another that they would never even so much as cast anyone a second look.

Given how their relationship began, Aegon never would have imagined that this is where his brother and Vaeryna would end up, but here they were-happy, in love and here he was kissing a woman who’d just birthed a babe.

Gods there must be something wrong with him, surely doing that wasn’t normal.

Suddenly Aegar gave a little squeak and Aegon lurched forward to check his nephew, who had begun to stir.

“Come on little one; don’t cry” whispered Aegon as he lifted the babe into his arms and began rocking him gently.

Aegar whimpered for a moment before he quietened down and fell back to sleep, Aegon smiled as he gazed at his sweet little nephew.

For the briefest of moments, he allowed himself to sink into the delusion that this was his son, his silver haired little boy and that Vaeryna as his wife, but before he could drown, he was snapped out of his reverie by the reappearance of Aemond who had an arm wrapped around Vaeryna’s waist as she hobbled across the room.

“I-Is he ok?” asked Vaeryna as she slipped into bed.

“I think he might be getting hungry” replied Aegon as he reluctantly passed Aegar to his father.

“I did wonder” mused Vaeryna as she began undoing the laces of her shift.

“You know I think I’ll take my leave-you need your rest and well I-I need a drink” said Aegon looking at the ceiling.

“Thank you for today Aegon, I couldn’t have done any of it without you”.

“Don’t mention it” replied Aegon still looking at the ceiling.

“He’s latched on well hasn’t he-“ said Aemond softly.

“Definitely his fathers son with how quick he took to the nipple” laughed Vaeryna.

Aegon cringed as his brother and Vaeryna continued to talk about breasts and nipples and for fuck sake he had to get out of there.

“I’ll go now-mayhaps I will see you both at some point tomorrow” gasped Aegon.

“Didn’t you want to tell me something earlier-“

“NO-I mean it’s nothing, I’ll see-speak to you tomorrow” replied Aegon as he turned on his heel and left the room.

As soon as he returned to his chambers, he poured himself a generous cup of wine, and flopped onto the sofa.

“Y-Your Grace, are you in need of anything further tonight?”

Aegon paused for a moment, unsure of what to say, part of him just wanted to consume enough wine that he forgot his own name and the other part wanted to summon his favourite whores.

In the end he decided to have both.

“Send for Nessa and Markus and bring me some more wine” said Aegon.

“Y-Yes Your Grace”.

The bells of Kings Landing could be heard ringing in the distance in celebration of the birth of a new Targaryen Prince.

If tonight was about celebration, then Aegon was determined to make it one to remember.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x oc #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond smut #prince aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #hotd aegon #aegon x oc

97 notes · View notes

harleehazbinfics · 2 months

Text

Home is where my Heart is.

Chapter 11: Hello Abby!/Hello Rosie! Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 2100+

A/N: AAAAAAAA one more chapter to goooo I want to draw them... if i have time...

“So, how was your.. trip..?” I ask them, holding a tray of apple pie by the door only to have Charlie rushing past me and into her room. "Do you want to take this apple pie?!"

“Is she okay?” I ask Vaggie who enters late.

Vaggie sighs and drops the luggage on the floor before she slumps on the couch. Not a moment later, the rest join us. Angel taking a picture of her first before asking, “How’d it go?”

“Horrible, absolutely horrible. Not only did they support our case but..” Vaggie drifts off looking upstairs.

“Well? Spit it out!” Husk asks losing patience.

“Charlie found out I’m a former exorcist,” she confesses guiltily.

There was a heart pause before they screamed and tackled her. Bombarding her with questions. I mean.. I did kinda think of it, but it was still surprising. I hand them the pie before setting my eyes on the bag they brought with them move from the loud noise.

“Uhh, Vaggie dear. I think your bag just move,” I alerted her.

“Did you smuggle some puppies?” Niffty asks excitedly.

“God, I hope not,” Husk grumbles.

Vaggie lets out a groan before getting up from the floor and zipped open their bags. We were greeted to the sight of fluffy feathery wings instead.

“YOU BROUGHT A BIRD!” Niffty shrieks trying to pick it up. However, it wasn’t as small as we thought it was when a head popped up from the ball of feathers, making Niffty scream and hide behind Angel startling him.

“Uhh, hi?” the person greets awkwardly trying to smile.

“What the fuck?! Why is there an angel in our bags?! How the fuck did you even squeeze in there?!” Vaggie screams holding the girl’s shoulders. “Oh shit, we’re gonna be in so much trouble.”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop shaking me first,” she responds with a laugh dizzy from from Vaggie’s actions. She shakes her head comically to clear her head and replies, “I heard that Heaven let in some folks from the Devildom, and I wanted to talk to you! So, I waited but then you arrived all angry, so I just hid in your luggage instead.”

Vaggie makes a face trying to comprehend the girl’s train of thoughts that led her here, with a hand in the air as if trying to say, ‘That doesn’t sound logical.’

The girl sighs and confesses, “Truth is, I wanted to come down here and find my parents. I’ve searched heaven for years and I didn’t find them. So, I took my chances here.”

Then at realization, I drop and knelt in front of the girl turning her head to face me. With tears in my eyes, I whisper, “It is you. It’s you! I missed you so much!”

“Mom!” she cries burying herself in my hug.

Around us another round of scream’s echo in the room unable to process the series of events that happened back-to-back. After calming everyone down and settling them down on the couch while Vaggie, Abby and I stood in front of them, somewhat like a class presentation.

“You’re a former exorcist?” Angel starts.

“Where’s your wings?” Niffty asks.

“I don’t have—”

“Did you ever think maybe she's sensitive about her lack of wings, just like her lack of tits?”

“Yeah. Where are your tits?” Niffty asks tugging at her shirt.

“sigh Any other questions?”

“Who’s the kid?”

“I’m Abigail Calliope. Daughter of Alastor and Miledy Calliope, and I’m not a kid!” Abby huffs.

“How old did you die anyway? You look pretty young though.”

“20. I got into an accident while volunteering,” she explains.

“Figures how you got into heaven. Kinda crazy how that batshit crazy radio demon has a daughter though,” Angel gestures with all four hands.

“You said it,” Husk murmurs downing a bottle of whiskey.

“Well, I did a lot of convincing,” I answer brushing Abby’s hair off her face. “I don’t regret a single thing.”

She gives me a smile before we see a green flash coming from upstairs. ‘My crazy husband did it,�� I thought in awe, getting the princess of hell to get a deal with him was surprising given that she was so on-guard around him.

“Who’s that?” Abby asks turning to me.

I give her a grin and answer, “Your father.”

Her eyes lit up finally getting to see her father after decades. Charlie and Alastor comes down and finds Abby. Surprised that an angel was here by herself.

“Who is—?”

“That can wait. I think you guys have something planned, we’ll talk on the way!” I say pushing Charlie out the door, Alastor and Abby behind us. I look behind me and find Abby being shy looking away from Alastor, while Alastor was eyeing her intently still not recognizing her.

“Wait! We can’t have her walk around the city with that look!” Charlie stops us, then turning to Abby. She casts a spell changing her clothes into a blue dress that was trendy these days along with demon horns headband.

“Your wings, dear,” I tell her which she immediately hides away.

“Sooo, who is she?” Charlie asks with Alastor next to her.

“When you came back from your trip, this little troublemaker slid into your luggage and travelled to hell here with you,” I say nipping Abby’s nose. “This is our daughter, Abigail.”

“Pleasure to meet you! Quite the please!” Abby greets with his father’s cadence shocking the both of them.

“I just went through a massive sense of déjà vu,” Charlie says holding her head before shaking Abby’s outstretched hand.

“Goodness! Sunshine! Look how much you’ve grown!” Alastor exclaims lifting Abby in his arms. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful lady.”

“Dad! I missed you so much,” she excitedly screams hugging her father which he welcomed with a gleeful laugh.

“Youuuu have a daughter???” Charlie drawls in shock pointing at Alastor who put down Abby.

“Is it that surprising?” Alastor says petting Abby’s head.

“YES!?” Charlie yells.

“How about we head to Cannibal Town now. We’re kinda wasting time now,” I say leading them down the road. “Isn’t this fun? We look like family!”

“What? Why are we going to cannibal town?” Charlie asks, Abby looking around confused and disturbed by the sights around her, before we arrived the quaint little town.

“There’s a friend of mine I think you should meet. It’s also a good opportunity to introduce Abby to her too!” Alastor says escorting Abby and leading in front of us.

“In Cannibal Town? But it’s, it’s… surprisingly nice here,” Charlie says changing her mind.

“Right? We actually have a residency here. We try to come by when we can. Reminds us of home,” I explain to the girls.

“Isn't it though? and it's all thanks to a very special someone,” Alastor says opening the door for us.

We see Rosie attending to her costumer before she notices us by the entrance, “Oh, my, stars! Do my eyes deceive me? Alastor. Alastor! Where have you been??? These halls really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence and—," she notices me and says, “Miledy! Sweetheart! You haven’t called me in weeks!”

She glances the girls beside us and comments, “Oh. Who's this ya brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you! Oh I'm just kidding. I know you're an Ace in the hole.” I coughed a laugh at her, which she appreciated that someone got her joke.

“A what now?”

“But where are your manners mister? Introduce us why don't you?”

“Ahh, yes. Charlie, Abigail, this is Rosie, the most darling, delightful and dangerous Overlord this side of the Pentagram!” Alastor introduces Rosie.

“Oh! Always such a charmer.”

“And Rosie, it's my pleasure to introduce you to princess Charlie Morningstar. Daughter of Lucifer and heir to the throne of Hell!” Alastor pushes Charlie, then Abby, “and last but not least, this is Abigail Calliope, Miledy and I’s pride and joy!”

“How do you do?” Charlie greets nervously with a wave, while our daughter happily returns their high energy.

“Well, well! isn't this a regal surprise! Come in! Come in! Can I offer you somethin' to eat? I'm sure I have a leg around here or somethin'. Oh, what am I thinkin'? Small thing like you? You're probably watchin' your figure! How bout some nice pinkie fingers instead?” Rosie offers a box to the pair.

“Um...No. no, thank you, though,” Charlie says refusing for the both of them.

“Oh look at you!” Rosie gushes patting both of their heads, “so polite! Alastor, you could learn a thing o' two.”

“Well, sit down. Sit down. Tell Auntie Rosie what she can do for you. Ya know, Alastor. I got a premo-connect on a guy with about eight blocks of territory and not enough goons to run it. Prime pickin's for a deal to be made, my friend.” Rosie tells Alastor making a gesture.

“What does that mean, mom?” Abby asks me while we stood behind Charlie as they talked.

“Here in hell, demons grow their power by accumulating deals, these deals could be anything but the ultimate price they pay is their souls,” I explain to her, “I’m sorry you have to go through this, Abby. I know how drastic of a change this will be, so if you decide to go back to heaven, we’ll help you.”

She hastily shaking her head, refusing the suggestion, “As fun as it is there. It didn’t have you or dad,” she replies sincerely making me let out a sigh of relief then hugging her.

---later

“Now, fair warning. This group sticks together. So, in order to convince any of them, you'll need to convince all of them. And there's one in particular—" Rosie pauses thinking of the appropriate word.

“Uuuugh, Susan,” Alastor states in distate.

“Susan, who's a bit of an... uh—”

“Ornery old bitch?”

“That! She's tough, but win her over and the rest will be easy as pie. Ready?”

“I guess.”

Charlie goes off into an unenthusiastic speech, making me internally cringe paired with how the cannibals strongly reacted against her.

“FUCK YOU, YOU OLD BITCH!” Charlie screams flipping Susan off.

“Welp. Okay everyone! We’ll be back after a brief intermission!” I call over the microphone while Rosie drags a huffing Charlie backstage. “Any song requests?!”

While I was singing for the crowd while Charlie and Rosie sorted themselves, in the corner of my eye I see Alastor and Abby talking.

“I almost forgot how wonderfully mom sang,” Abby states looking at her mother in awe.

“Definitely one you grow to love even more with each and every song,” Alastor adds.

“Absolutely! I kept every recording I could get my hands on,” Abby replies enthusiastically.

Alastor laughs and tells her, “I heard you also kept old recordings of my radio shows.”

Abby blushes and confesses, “I was still young when you left so, I got every recording I could find just to remember how you sounded.”

Alastor sighs and give a small smile and pets her head, “I won’t go anywhere this time.”

Abby smiles and hugs his dad. Just then Rosie and Charlie come back looking better. I stand with my family while Alastor hands her his microphone. While we watched her sing more confidently than earlier, catching everyone’s attention. Abby looks at her amazed how she got them to join her.

“They're dancing along. They're singing her song,” Rosie sang her hands clasped together.

“Surprised? Why, I knew she could do it all along,” Alastor and I sang together.

“She's bound to pass the test as Princess of Hell. Like her Daddy she is madly power-fell!” we sang and danced together, making Abby gush at how we blended our voice together.

“She's filled with potential that I could guide,” Alastor looks at Charlie sinisterly.

“I concur!” Rosie and I sang slinging our elbows with Alastor.

“Stick with her, you'll be on the winning side.”

We lead the Cannibals to the hotel where we meet up with Vaggie who brought the weapons with her.

---later

We take Abby to our room where she immediately notices the forest, “Oh! This looks like the cabin we had.”

“Well, a replica of it,” Alastor says taking off his coat and putting it on a hanger in a closet.

“How was your first day here?” I ask her, pulling her to sit with me by the fireplace.

“It was definitely something,” she laughs off nervously, “But aside from the vulgarities, it seems like fun. And, I want to work here, at the hotel. Though I’m... different, I want to help sinners redeem themselves and reach heaven. Is… that okay?”

Alastor and I share a look before giving her a smile, “Of course it is, Sunshine. Why wouldn’t it be? We want you to do whatever you like, you’re free to do so. We’re family.”

Tears form in her eyes and drip down her cheeks, we gave her a big hug to comfort her. Finally, a family again.

TAGLIST:

@marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x oc #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #home is where my heart is #hiwmhi #harleehazbinfic

65 notes · View notes

theitgirlnetwork · 2 months

Text

Better

Ch. 13: I've Got It

Note:....Been a while. I know boooo, it was very shitty of me, and I'll spare you the sob story but I'm back. Thank you all for the continued support, I am extremely grateful to everyone who gave and continues to give this story a chance. I am ready to get back to work. This chapter is a long one as the beginning of my apology. As always, feel free to reach out to me with any questions or just to chat, but all in all, it feels good to be back. Happy Valentines Day, babies <3

Warning: Toxic Family Dynamics, anxiety, angst and strong language.

“Now we wait.”

Lip rolls his eyes as he sits on the bed in his and Charlotte’s room at Kev and V’s house, crossing his arms. “This is fucking stupid.”

V’s sharp elbow goes into his side as Kev shushes him, facing the opposite direction.

The three of them are sitting and waiting outside of the bathroom door, straightening as Carol emerges from the room, blue and white stick in her hands and Charlotte in tow. “Auntie Carol, I told you I’m not pregnant-”

“Hush, little girl, stop whining.”

“But Mama,” V tries, rubbing her head tiredly. “She just had her period.”

“You shut up, Veronica, you were supposed to be watching her, not letting her shack up while you did, lord knows everything but take care of your cousin. Now I’m gonna hear shit from her father and his wife the whole time they’re here.” The older woman huffs, squinting at the test, snapping her fingers and pointing to the bed, gesturing for Charlotte to sit. “The least we can do is make sure she’s not pregnant when they get here.”

Lip rests his hand on Charlotte’s thigh as he tries to hide his annoyance with the whole situation. The call with Charlotte’s dad had been disastrous, as he suspected it would be. The older man had cursed him to high heaven before demanding Charlotte be on the next flight home. When Lip heard that he’d panicked, snatching the phone back from his wife and hanging up. All they’d received since then was an eerie message that they were on their way. Because he’s him and he has literally no control over his own brain, he had no choice but to question why she hadn’t told her parents about them, about him. It seemed like her dad hadn’t even expected to hear from a boyfriend let alone a husband. They’d at least been together long enough that her parents should know he exists.

In fact that’s all he can think about, aside from the fact that he may have lost his job. And how the two may be related.

“Fuck!” Lip growls as he punches the wall in the hallway. He’s unconcerned with what Fiona will say about it. He’ll just blame it on Frank.

Charlotte’s head pops out of the bathroom with a freshly bathed Liam on her hip, both looking as innocently confused as ever. Liam claps his hand, squealing, mumbling out an excited ‘fuck!’ as he meets his brother’s eyes. “No, Liam, that's a bad word. Phillip didn’t mean to say that. He meant to say darn, right Phillip?”

The blond is in too foul a mood to concede for cuteness sake and instead squeezes the boy’s cheek and gives his wife an appreciative pat on the ass before scooting past. “Nah, I meant fuck.”

Charlotte pouts as she bounces the child on her hip a little before taking him to sit with one his other siblings as she goes to figure out what’s wrong with her spouse. She’s noticed that Phillip has been on edge since her parents’ message, but she was beginning to think that wasn’t all that was bothering him.

She finds him spread out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl on his face. Her pout deepens as she climbs over the side of the couch, laying her body over his, pressing her chest to his and offering him a bright smile. “Talk to me, bubba.”

“I’ve just got shit to figure out I guess, I gotta handle it or we’re fucked.” he huffs, rolling his big blue eyes, as she smooths the lines between his brows with her soft fingers.

“Shit like what?” Charlotte asks, tilting her head lightly.

“Watch your mouth.” He murmurs, softly, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip before pushing it into her mouth, humming with quiet satisfaction as she simply closes her mouth around it, brown eyes staring up at him intently. “That shit at the party, lost my cool, cause that fucker is trying to fuck you-”

“Don’t want him.” she says around his finger.

“I lost my cool and sorta might’ve cost us a good thing.” Lip sighs, smoothing his other hand over her hair. “Daddy wants to talk to me in his office later this week. Fucked it up, sorry baby.”

It almost feels worse. How quickly she shrugs off his failures. She doesn’t tell him he fucking sucks, or that he ruins everything. She doesn’t huff and push off of him. She offers him a soft smile, kisses him deeply, and tells him ‘they’ll figure it out’. They’ll do it. Another thing he just can’t do for her. He feels helpless. He loves her, and this job was the biggest step he’s made in showing her that. He might beg. He might literally have to set his pride aside and beg.

That was part one in the hardest lesson life has taught him. Phillip Gallagher is not good enough for Charlotte Gal…Fisher.

“Yay, Debbie!” Charlotte screams , clapping along as Ian whistles. The family was gathering for Debbie’s first soccer game of the season and it was…not going well. Turns out Debbie’s team sucks and she doesn’t respond very well to the rules and restrictions of soccer. She was currently focusing more on digging her heel of her cleats into the shin of a kid who’d accidentally kicked her hand while the ball rolled past her.

“Fuckin’ kill ‘em, Debs.” Mickey calls, lighting his cigarette. His brows furrow at the looks the parents around him send him. “I fuckin’ meant, metaphorically.”

“Figuratively.” Lip corrects, smacking away the middle finger that gets waived in his face. He sighs as Charlotte knocks his own cigarette out of his hand before he can light it, slapping her thigh, pulling her leg over his as she giggles in his ear. Lip relishes in the closeness and warmth he gets from this moment. His wife leaning into him, absently toying with his fingers as she cheers for his little sister.

It makes him think. He thinks about the future. Doing this with his kids. Their kids. Kids he didn’t even think he wanted. Not until her. Just the idea of her opens a world of possibilities he hadn’t even factored in. It feels good. It would feel great, if some fucking idiot wasn’t staring at her like a piece of fuckin’ meat-

“Can I fucking help you, fuck face, or do you wanna keep starin’ at my wife?” He demands, standing immediately. Ian and Mickey are following suit soon enough, the latter, lifting Charlotte and placing her on the opposite side of all of them.

“Woah,” the guy lifts his hands in surrender, eyes darting between the men nervously. “I just was trying to figure out where I know her from, I don’t want any issues.”

“Let’s just say you don’t know her from anywhere and you get to keep your teeth, alright?” Mickey growls.

The three men settle back into their seats and return to the game. Charlotte waves off Debbie’s confused look that she sends to the stands. She whispers into Lip’s ear that everything is fine. That the guy probably frequents the bar she works at. But from the way she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, zipping her jacket up to her neck and crossing her arms over her chest, hoping he wouldn’t notice…Lip fucking hates himself. He really does. He hates the guys at the club that pay to see the love of his life essentially naked. He hates that they go around thinking about her after they leave the fuckin’ seedy ass building. He hates that she works there, because despite the fact that her body is beautiful and he’s glad she’s comfortable in it, his insecurity is making her insecure and now they can’t be at his sister’s soccer game, or the grocery store, or the park or the club without someone fucking eye-fucking his wife, pissing him off and making her uncomfortable in her own damn clothes.

But mostly, mostly he hates himself for not being able to make her like the women sitting on the opposite side for the other team. The soccer moms who have husbands that take care of fuckin’ everything they need and have shit to spare to give them what they want. He hates that she’s not sitting here with one of those fancy, stupid ass purses that they all seem to fuckin’ have. He hates that while they got to drop their kids off at a nice ass school after they kissed their husbands goodbye and then went shopping or drinking or whatever upper middle housewives do with their days Charlotte was helping clean his shithole house. He hates that after the game he’s gonna drop her off to the club where she’ll meet more creeps who get off thinking about her and eye-fuck her in his face. He hates that he’s too pussy to go into the club because then he’s worried he’ll steal one of Mickey’s guns and air the bitch out and Charlotte’ll be forced to visit him in jail for the rest of her life.

So Lip grinds his teeth and finishes watching the game. Leg jumping as he tries to soothe his temper. That’s part two.

Charlotte’s parents arriving is the nail in the marital coffin for Lip. They go pick them up from the airport in the attempt to make a good impression. The couple borrows Kev’s car and the whole ride their Charlotte tries to keep him in a good mood. He knew he must be walking into the lion’s den from how she’d been acting. They’d had sex twice that morning, and before he could start to offer to make her breakfast for her…efforts, she was pulling out the ingredients to make him pancakes. In the car, she didn’t whine about his music, just humming softly as it played, rubbing his arm as his hand rested on her thigh. He wants to be able to leave it at this. He doesn’t want to interrupt the great morning by asking the dreaded question, but he’s him and he can’t let it go.

“So, we haven’t really gotten to talk about it, but I need to ask…why didn’t you tell your parents about me?”

Charlotte takes a deep breath, staring straight out the window as they pull into a pickup spot. “They’re parents…you know, they didn’t exactly send me here to get married in three months.”

“They won’t approve. Fuck.” he nods.

“Bubba, it doesn’t matter.” Charlotte turns to face Lip, pulling her knee into the seat beneath her. “It doesn’t matter, I approve. I’m more worried about what you’ll think of me. My parents aren’t the nicest people, and…I’m not good with navigating them.”

“Charlotte, there’s literally nothing short of murder you could do that would make me change my mind, you’re not the one we need to worry about.” Lip pushes his tongue into his cheek absently, nervously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, the reflection of the simple ring shining on his hand.

“This is temporary, right?” Charlotte murmurs, leaning over the console and placing her hands over Lip’s. “They’ll come, and see how good you take care of me and they’ll go home. ��Kay?”

The blond man just nods quietly, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing it, savoring their bubble one last time before they get out of the car.

“I hate the airport, it's dirty and busy all of the time.”

Lip rolls his lips together as he drags his in-laws bags over to the car, listening quietly with Charlotte as her mother and father talk about how miserable their flight has been. Her dad, Victor, had given him a curt nod in introduction and held his arm out for Charlotte to obediently place herself into a hug that Lip could tell she didn’t want. Her mother Cynthia had kissed her cheeks in a European way to where they never actually touch. Both people looked polished, and barely tried to hide their wince when Charlotte said, “This is my husband, Phillip.”

Lip’s wife’s pretty brown eyes haven’t lifted from ground level since they met her parents at the terminal, an absent look on her face as her parents drone on and on with pleasantries.

“...and, honey, don’t you think it’s a little too cold for that outfit?” her mom finishes, as the three of them stand back and watch Lip load the car.

“‘M warm.”

“I am warm.” Her mother corrects.

“I am warm.”

“I don’t know how you could be, with this frigid Chicago air. Hopefully you’re not getting sick. Phillip, you always have to watch her, she never wants to wear a coat, always trying to walk around half naked and expect not to get sick-”

“We’d better hope she’s not having hot flashes.”

“Victor!”

And that too. The snide remarks. Glances down at Charlotte’s stomach, and positioning himself between her and Lip as they walk back to the car. The muscle in Lip’s jaw jumps in irritation as her father continues to insinuate that the only reason he’s here is because he’s some white trash deadbeat that knocked his daughter up.

“I’m not pregnant, Daddy.”

“As you’ve told me.” The older man grunts, sliding between his daughter and the car, climbing into the front passenger seat the second the lock clicks open, not even sparing her a glance.

“Are you guys, uh, hungry? We could stop and get something to eat.” Lip sniffs, glancing up into the rearview mirror to get a look at Charlotte. She’s in the back, toying with her fingers as she stares out of the window. That is until her mom swats at her hand to get her to stop, and she takes to biting her lip instead.

“No thank you, young man, the hotel should be fine.” Victor huffs again, for the fiftieth fucking time since he’s been in the car. “Charlotte, I made you a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow, since you never took the time to find a physician yourself. Your mother will take you after we have breakfast. I assume you’ll be joining us, Phillip.”

Charlotte manages to look up at that, her voice resigned as she addresses her father. “Of course he will, Daddy, we’ll be with you bright early.”

The car goes silent for a moment before Victor mumbles under his breath, ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’

“Daddy?”

“I’m sorry, are we supposed to pretend that this is okay? Cynthia, I tried, but this is fucking ridiculous!”

“Victor! Please.”

“Okay.” Lip grunts, pulling the car into one of the hotel parking spots in the far corner of the lot.

“No, Charlotte Andrea Fisher, you are 19 years old. You are away from home for the first time, against my better judgment. You have been away for only 3 months. You are naive, and impulsive, and for some reason want to be like your cousin Veronica so damn bad. You are going to take your ass upstairs to the hotel room your mother and I got you and you are not shacking up with this boy-”

“He’s not a boy, he’s my husband, Dad.” Charlotte whimpers from the backseat. Lip grinds his teeth and unbuckles his seatbelt, catching her mother roll her eyes and rub her forehead as he climbs out of the car.

“Oh, god, the waterworks-”

“You are a little girl, and that is a boy. You’re talking about marriage, that sham is getting annulled, if it was even legal-” Victor follows suit, climbing out of the car and slamming the door, opening his wife’s before walking, meeting Lip at Charlotte’s door. The older man goes to tug it open, only to be stopped by Lip’s hand. “Move.”

“No. My wife is coming home with me.” he says calmly.

“Your wife? Your wife, she’s my daughter, and she’s coming with me and her mother-”

“Her mother and I.” Lip says smugly.

“Oh.” Victor cocks his head, taking a step closer to an unflinching Lip. “You think you're tough, boy?”

“You tell me, we’re from the same place.”

The older man glares past him to the car window again. Shifting his attention to Charlotte. “Charlotte Andrea Fisher-”

“Gallagher.” Her muffled voice calls from behind the cheap glass. “My last name is Gallagher now, Dad.”

It’s quiet. Soft. Her voice waivers. But still. She said it. And still, it fills Lip up with pride as he leans against the car door, using its keys to click it closed as he watches her mother drag her husband away. Forcing him to the hotel.

After he watches the fancy, sliding double doors close behind them and the yelling becomes a little more faint, Lip unlocks the car. The way she falls into his arms crushes him. The tears, the shaking, the sobs of ‘I thought they’d give us a chance’ that part hurt.

Lip Gallagher has watched his parents abandon his siblings. Hit them. Steal from them. Lie. Everything in the book of bad parents. He’s been watching it his whole life. He’s numb to it. It’s life, he tells them. Doesn’t matter, they don’t matter. Frank and Monica. They’ve never been anything to them, and never would be.

But watching this. Watching Charlotte lose her parents in front of him, because of him, he’s never seen anything like it. He’s sad for her. He watched them rip her to shreds with words and disapproving looks. They came here and broke the love of his life within an hour and a half.

This wasn’t the final straw.

No, because Lip’s girl is sweet. This is something he’s always known, and in anyone else he’d call it a flaw. She’s like Debbie, but less vengeful. She forgives. Gives second…third…fourth chances. Hell, its the only fuckin’ way he’s been able to keep her, and normally, he’d thank whatever shitty higher power that’s up there that dropped this woman in his lap for him to hoard to himself but not today.

“She says she wants to say sorry for him. I’m not gonna talk to him, just her. She promised.”

“Bunny, I’m not gonna tell you don’t see your mom-”

“Good!” Charlotte chirps as Lip watches her tug on some notably baggy jeans over her shapely legs, and pull an oversized sweater over her head.

“‘M gonna tell you it’d be pretty fuckin’ stupid though.” he finishes, grabbing the edge of her sweater and pulling her into his lap as he sits on the bed.

Charlotte smoothes her fingers over his cheek before leaning her forehead against his. “Hm, like threatening your boss's son?”

“Fuckin’ defendin’ your honor.” he grunts, tilting her toward him and patting her ass.

“My hero.”

“Exactly, and now I’m the fuckin’ dragon, lockin’ you up in the tower so the evil people who made the princess cry yesterday don’t get to do it again.”

“That’s really not how fairytales work. And dragons can’t lock doors.”

“Fuckin’ smartass.” Lip breathes, connecting his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. He squeezes her tightly, trying to wring every negative thought out of her head. “They hurt you.” he whispers against her lips.

“They’re my parents. They think they’re doing what’s best for me. They’re not. But that’s what they think.” she whispers back, pressing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “So, I’m gonna go to this doctor’s appointment. Do another pregnancy test. Show them we’re married because you loveee me. And then, I’m gonna tell my mom our love story, leaving out some key details. And I’m gonna make her love you like I do, Bubba.”

Lip sits back and takes in her words. Because maybe that is what she’ll do. Maybe Cynthia will reconsider and maybe that will make things better. Maybe they’ll understand their situation and that they love each other and he’s pretty sure they won’t fuckin’ love him but maybe they’ll understand that he fuckin’ loves her. “Hopefully not like you love me. You’d have some competition.” she gasps at that, smacking his arm. “What? You look alike!”

The plan was clear. Charlotte was supposed to go and charm the pants off her mom on Lip’s behalf, he was supposed to be at home, hold down the fort, and figure out what the hell he was going to say to his boss, to get his job back.

Lip had set up shop. He’d plopped back on the run down couch in his house, and pulled one of his little siblings toys from underneath his ass and started rolling a joint on the table. It was time for him to play his part. Think. For him, and for his family.

But then there was the knock. And then it turned into knocking. It was incessant.

“Fuck! Hold on. ‘M fuckin’ coming!” He calls, tripping over the plastic bat on the floor when he makes his way over to the door. “What-”

“Phillip.”

“I…what the fuck are you doin’ here? Come to yell at me s’more?”

Victor Fisher stands with his arms crossed. Polished with a neat sweater and ironed pants, looking wildly uncomfortable and out of place in his own old neighborhood. “No, I…think I did enough of that yesterday. At least that’s what Cynthia tells me.”

“Okay,” Lip shrugs, leaning in the frame and catching Victor’s glance at the chipped paint. “Well, she tell you that she and Charlotte are going to the doctor?”

“Yes. It was my own idea to come down here and ask you to come get something to eat with me while we wait.”

The blond’s eyes narrow as he laughs incredulously. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

“Not at all.” Victor sighs, crossing his arms. “I am extending an olive branch. For Charlotte’s sake. Grab the other end.”

For Charlotte’s sake.

“So tech. Good business.”

“Technology and science are languages that I’ve always been able to speak. It pays too.” Lip shrugs, pushing a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

“Well?” Victor asks without looking up. This has been their breakfast so far. Short, stilted conversation. Lip answering the questions Victor fires at him. Trying to gauge his reactions to everything he says. Pretending he wasn’t starting to hate this man.

“Gettin’ there.”

“How many siblings do you have, Phillip?”

“Uh, five.”

“Smart like you?” he asks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“They’re smart.”

“But not like you.”

“Uh, no. Not like me.” Lip shifts in his seat, suddenly unable to follow the conversation.

“Hm.” Victor reaches to the side of the table, pouring more coffee into his cup and then into Lip’s. “Charlotte is an only child, you know that?”

“I know everything about Charlotte.”

“So, you know why we want her to go to the doctor so badly?”

“Fuckin’- yes!”

“You know she’s got chronic pain? That she suffers from sickle cell? She told you that?”

What?

Lip tries to keep a poker face as all of the wind is knocked out of his body. A thousand questions are swirling around in his head. His chest hurts. He didn’t know, why didn’t he know? He should have known-

“Do you know what happens when people who suffer from sickle cell go into crisis? What a flare up of chronic pain looks like for her?” Victor sighs, fully removing his glasses this time. “Probably not, you’ve known her for three months. But it happens, and it's bad. She…she can’t move. Barely eats, loses weight rapidly. The pains. The shakes. The crying. Are you prepared for that?”

“Yea-yes-”

“I’m sure you could. You’re a man. I understand that. You grew up here. You’ve had to be a man long before you were supposed to and that is unfair and I’m sorry that happened to you but the reality is, Charlotte is a girl. You two are a year apart, but you’re a man and she’s a girl. She grew up in a nice house, with me and her mother. She went to nice schools. We knew she was pretty, too pretty for her own good, so we protected her from the boys not worth keeping around-”

“Fuck you.” Lip scoffs.

“No, I’m not implying you’re not worth anything, Phillip. Boys like you from this area are diamonds in the rough. Just like me. I was just like you. And I got the girl. You have Charlotte, I had Cynthia. I know how it feels to hit the lottery.” Victor pauses to take a drink of his coffee, gesturing to the waitress for the check. “But Phillip, I don’t speak to my siblings. My parents. They were deadbeats. My siblings stayed here. I left them behind. They hate me. All of them. And over time, I’ve learned that I don’t care. I chose Cynthia. I chose me. They were holding me back. I let them go. Because you’ll learn, Phillip, that getting there only gets there, when you can focus. You can’t keep two families afloat.”

Lip works his jaw irritably, feeling his skin heat with irritation as he weighs what his father and law says. “What are you trying to say? I should abandon my family?”

“No. I’m saying it's not too late to choose them and annul your marriage. We both know you can’t take care of Charlotte. Not the way she should be. Not for a long, long time. So give her back to people who can. People who can make it worth you and your family’s while.”

“I…” Lip grits his teeth at the sound of his voice cracking. “I love her. I take care of her.” “She’s been living here, working as a stripper under your care. Want better for her, Phillip.” Victor says, snapping his checkbook closed as he slides the piece of paper across the table. The waitress comes over with the bill, dropping it between the two men and Lip absentmindedly reaches into his pocket to find some money, pausing when the older man holds his hand up to halt him. “Don’t worry, son. I’ve got it.”

Sending the message was hard, but it was the only way Lip knew how.

He knew he couldn’t look Charlotte in the face yet. No. He needed more time. Time to think. Time to decide he was doing the right thing. Time to finish talking himself into this.

Victor told him what he needed to do. Bend her heart, not break it. Neither of them wanted to see her broken. Just hurt her enough that she’s prepared to go home. Charlotte’s stubborn, so she won’t just give up. She won’t run to her parents so easily. So Lip would need to be able to hold out long enough that she would give up. Get tired. Realize it was over and go home.

And Lip would be able to pay the bills in the house, for the next three months. One month for each one he and Charlotte had together. He would be able to get his family a car. He would have something to drive back and forth to work in. A real car. Not a run down busted up car barely off the junk lot. A real car. One that he could keep for years.

So, he came home. Her mom kept her out a long enough time, clearly in on this plan to write him out of Charlotte’s fuckin’ life. He went to his house. He looked his siblings in the face and told them that he was ending things with Charlotte. And they were fuckin’ pissed. The kids weren’t talking to him. Debbie said she hated him. But she’d get over it. That’s what Victor had said when he’d told him how they loved Charlotte.

Carl mumbled something about a ‘waste’ and shoved past him. Liam doesn’t understand. And Lip knows that he’ll feel horrible when his baby brother wakes up tomorrow asking for her.

Ian and Fiona were the worst. Ian started rattling insults immediately. Telling him what a piece of shit he was. He knows. Telling him this is the only chance at something good, at love he’ll actually get. He fuckin’ knows.

Fiona just asked so many questions. Why? What happened? Are you sure?

That all stopped when Lip shrugged, schooling an emotionless expression onto his face, dropping the check onto the kitchen table and snapping his phone closed as he finished his message. “It’s done.”

All of that hurt. It fucking sucked and he felt like blowing his brains out when the flood of text messages started rolling in. But nothing could beat the crying. The begging.

“Bubba, please.” Her voice is small on the opposite side of the door, the whining lilt to it has his entire body tense as he leans against the wood, staring at the wall over Ian’s shoulder, refusing to make eye contact with any of his siblings. “I love you. Why are you doing this?”

“Lip-” Fiona starts, cutting herself off when her little brother looks up at her, wide blue eyes watery with tears, an exhausted look on his face, jaw clenched so hard she worried his teeth would crack. She thinks this is a mistake. She loves Charlotte, and even more, Lip loves Charlotte more than anything, but this was his decision, and he was her brother.

“I love you, what did I do? M’sorry.” she whimpers, soft thump letting the three siblings know she’d slid down the door. “Please, I love you. Please…st-stop.”

The three eldest Gallaghers stand there in a stalemate. Ian shifts on his feet, quietly shaking his head as he looks away. Fiona watches her brother struggle somberly, wondering if she could have done anything that would have avoided this.

And Lip, silent, straight faced, completely devoid of emotion as he rests his head against the door, staring forward. The only indication that he feels anything at all is the few tears that managed to escape down his face.

It goes on like this for an hour and a half. At 40 minutes, Ian scoffs, mumbling under his breath as he storms his way up the stairs, slamming his room door closed, causing his sister to flinch. Once the standoff reaches 1 hour and 15 minutes, Fiona sighs, scrubbing a tired hand down her face before patting an unmoving Lip’s shoulder, retiring to bed herself.

The sobbing and constant knocking at the door had slowed to quiet pleas, still making Lip’s chest hurt just as bad. He’s doing what’s best for her. He knows that. It hurts now, but she’ll recover from this. She’ll be better, she’ll have a chance to do better than him.

Lip will never recover. He knows that too. He knows that this is his better. His best. Being with Charlotte is everything. That’s why he doesn’t deserve it. He should’ve never tried to drag her down with him. He can’t give her the life she deserves, or the things she should have access to. He could only offer her hard work, and being bound to mental illness and alcoholism. Trapping her with a baby, forcing her to live in the fucking slums and dance for a couple of bucks from creepy frat boy fucks and drunk limp dick losers like his father.

Soon he can hear footsteps approaching the doorway, Charlotte is immediately riled up by the presence of whoever it is. “No, no, no, he needs to talk to me. Something is wrong, I don’t know what I did- Phillip, please.”

“C’mon Lottie, let’s go home.” Lip recognizes Kev’s muffled voice from the opposite side of the door. After some quiet arguing, he finally releases a breath when he hears the wood creak under the weight of them walking away.

The man ignores the crushing feeling in his chest, the gut wrenching pain that comes with the realization of what he’d just done. A numbness spreads over his limbs as he hazily makes his way over to and up the stairs, breathing shakily. He reaches the doorway of his dark room and stops there. He wants his bed. He wants to climb under the covers and pretend he didn’t just blow up his fuckin’ life. But he can’t make it over the threshold.

This is her room too. He didn’t think this through. She’s touched everything. How was he supposed to lay in the bed that they laid in together? Her clothes are still in the drawers. Pictures still taped to the mirror and walls. Fuck.

It’s humiliating, the way he breaks down. Strong shoulders shaking with stronger sobs. Body curling over until his knees simply give out, he sits on the floor next to the crack in the wall where Carl had drilled a hole to hide drugs for Frank. The sound of miscellaneous toys left out squeaking under him. Lip pulls his legs to his chest and cries, because it’s all he can do. Despite every ounce of his being telling him, ‘stop being a bitch,’ ‘the fuck are you cryin’ about, pussy?’ he can’t help it. And he doesn’t stop. Not when his throat started getting sore, or his back started to hurt. Not when the sun starts to peak in through the half broken window in the hallway. Not when he feels his little sister lay a blanket over him before sitting beside him, quietly resting her head on his shoulder.

Charlotte doesn’t fare much better. She finally fell asleep with V rubbing her back, sleeping in her cousin’s bed while Kev slept downstairs. When she wakes she has a pounding headache, her eyes are puffy and burn. She wraps one of the blankets around herself before dragging to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and splashing water on her face.

She’s hurt. Heartbroken and confused. She knows why he’s doing this. Her parents said something. Did something. Something that made him decide she isn’t worth the trouble.

But she wasn’t going to give up without a fight. She loves Phillip. She loves her husband, and she didn’t take their time together lightly. She pulls on one of Phillip’s sweatshirts and jumps her way into a pair of jeans before looking at herself in the mirror.

“Hey, honey,” V’s soft voice comes from behind her, Charlotte’s cousin appears over her shoulder, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. “I didn’t think you’d be up.”

“I’ve gotta,” she sniffs, combing her fingers through her hair. “I’ve gotta take Liam to daycare. And um, make sure Carl remembers his science project. See if Phillip wants me to have lunch with him at work today, I could…I could make him something-”

“Lottie.” V interrupts, “Didn’t Lip-”

“He’s confused.” Charlotte says sharply, swinging her purse over her shoulder, holding her hand out to her cousin expectantly. “My key to their house is in our room. I…don’t normally need it.”

“Charlotte, listen. I’m not saying this to hurt you, but that boy left you crying on the porch in the cold, that sends a message. Don’t you think you two need space?”

The younger woman shakes her head stubbornly, looking forward to the door, refusing to look at V. “No. Space will let him spiral. My parents made him doubt me, I’m gonna show him that they don’t know what they’re talking about, that I’m what he wants and needs, no matter what they say.”

Determined, Charlotte makes her way next door, unlocking the door with V’s keys and gets to work immediately. Frank is passed out on the couch, so she nudges him awake with a beer at the ready, guiding the drunken man out of the door so he won’t be there when everyone wakes up. Next she starts on the bacon and eggs, brewing a cup of coffee before climbing the stairs to grab Liam, changing and dressing him. “G’morning Liam, did you sleep well?” she coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks as she makes her way back down the stairs.

When she gets down there, Fiona is sitting at the table, eyes going wide as she sees her sister-in-law. “Lottie? I…when did-”

“Early this morning. I know yesterday was really weird, and I’m sorry you guys had to see that-”

“Hey,” Fiona smiles, taking Liam from Charlotte’s arms. “There’s no embarrassment with family. Gallaghers know no shame, girl, and you’re one of us.”

And she means it. Fiona watches as a wave of relief washes over the girl bustling around her kitchen, dumping fresh bacon onto a plate. “Thanks Fi.” Charlotte tucks some hair behind her ear, sliding a bowl of cheerios in front of the toddler. “I’m sorry to even ask you this, but did he talk to you about anything? Like something they said or s-something I did-”

“Mornin.”

The deep voice makes Charlotte’s heart drop to her stomach. She turns slowly, as if she’s approaching an animal that’s likely to scare. And there he is. Standing there in his pajamas, hair mussed, bags under his eyes. But still handsome as ever to Charlotte. “Phillip.”

The blond pauses for a beat. His blue eyes are cloudy for a moment as he takes in the girl before he slips past her, ignoring her extended hand, offering a mug of coffee, opting to open the fridge and grab the orange juice instead. “Hey, you come here to pick up your stuff?”

“My…my stuff? Phillip-”

“I uh, gotta get to work.” he sniffs, grabbing his bag from it’s place on the kitchen floor, slinging it over his shoulder with his jacket in his hand.

“But-” Charlotte flinches as the door slams shut, shoulders tense as she stares after her husband. Fiona quietly slips behind the girl, resting her hand on her shoulder, apologetic for her brother’s behavior, but unable to do anything about it. “He means it.”

Charlotte had whispered so quietly that her sister-in-law didn’t catch it, leaning in for clarity. “What?”

“Phillip, he’s leaving me, and he means it.” It was like a rock landed in her stomach, both painful and grounding, Charlotte steels herself. “Fine.” she huffs, grabbing her own bag and storming out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her.

Phillip’s day had been absolute shit so far. He woke up to his boss’s daddy’s assistant calling him in for a meeting. No doubt calling him in to fucking fire him for beating the living shit out of his pussy ass son. Lip doesn’t regret it. Not really. But he regrets losing his fucking job.

On top of that, he came downstairs to see the one person he couldn’t handle seeing. She looked so damn pretty, mixing up in his kitchen, bein’ with his family and shit. The hopeful look in her eye as she saw him enter the room. He didn’t deserve for her to fuckin’ look at him like that. He wanted to kick his own ass for how broken her pretty little face looked when he dismissed her. He loves her. That’s why he’s doing this. Her eyes were pink and puffy. She’d been crying for him. The fact that he was fighting with himself not to like that…he’s a sick fuck. Like he’s said, he doesn’t deserve her.

Lip doesn’t even bother asking Kev to use his car to get to work, opting to take a walk to the train station to clear his head. He was in no real rush to be fired. As he blows into his hands to warm them, he lets his mind wander to the last place it needs to, but the only place it seems to want to go.

“So, what the fuck are they mad at her for? They don’t wanna do the band shit anymore?”

Charlotte giggles, running her fingers through his curls as he lays his head on her lap, scowling at the television. She was educating him on Disney movies; it seemed that in the process of raising his siblings along with his sister, he’d never gotten the chance to experience sitcoms and original movies that were formative for her childhood. He’d said, ‘I’m not watchin’, put your shit on and I’ll take a nap’ but here he was, watching intently with a wonder that made her heart ache. “Guess they don’t have your work ethic, bubba.”

Lip hums contentedly, bringing her free hand to his lips, absently pressing kisses to her palm as he continues watching the movie. “Yeah, I know you liked her little rapping white boyfriend.”

“Um, excuse me? Even though he’s cute-”

“Knew it.”

“And you happen to also be a white, blonde with blue hair, most of my exes haven’t been white, I’ll have you know.”

He tried to swallow down the comment, really. But he fuckin’ couldn’t hold himself back, sue him. “Yeah, how many exes are we talkin’ about?”

He expects for her to get offended, or be evasive. Tell him to fuck off. That’s what any of his sorta exes would’ve done. Hell, that’s what he would’ve done. With anyone but her. He’ll tell her whatever she needs to know. But Charlotte has soft edges. Even when he’s being a dick, she has softness for him he’d never experienced before.

“Not many, baby, just like, five.” She smiles gently, smoothing her hand over his hair again. “You’re the only one who matters now, Phillip.” she takes a deep breath, leaning down to press her forehead against his, and Lip can’t help but lean up to meet her, eyes trained on her face as hers slip closed. “Love you.” she mumbles.

She’s everything. “I love you, Bunny.”

With that, her brown eyes open, staring down at him with joy, she wrinkles her nose. “Ew, you like me?” she teases, squealing in his ear as he pushes himself up, grabbing her thigh and tugging her down on the couch.

“Fuckin’ brat.” he chuckles breathily against her lips, slapping her thigh lightly as he descends on her, her giggles ringing out into the air.

“Fuck.” the blond huffs out, roughly wiping at a stray tear before storming up to an abandoned car, left on the frozen grass and kicking at one of the doors, denting it slightly. He breathes heavily, shaking his head and turning to go back to his path to the train. Her laughter. That fuckin’ pretty ass laugh that she’s gonna end up giving to someone else makes him feel like he could vomit. He could hear it. In his head. It used to be nice. Now it feels like his heart is being wrenched from his fuckin’ chest. Damnit!

Lip drops his bag onto the ground, lifting his leg and kicking the car again. And again. And again. Until he stops. Then, he starts punching the windows, his knuckles start getting bloody as the glass shatters and breaks under his efforts. But he keeps going. He just keeps punching, and kicking, and screaming…? When did he start doing that?

He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even notice someone approaching him.

“Lip…?” A familiar voice calls out. Familiar, but not the one haunting him now. “Well, it’s been a while, I can guess how you’ve been.”

He stops, turning to look at the person intruding on his break down, brows furrowed. The blond reaches in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, raising it to pluck one into his mouth before offering it to them. “The fuck are you doin’ here?”

“Needed a nice bed, and food. Came to check on my mom. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I’ve been doin’?”

To say Charlotte was pissed off was an understatement. Hot, angry tears stream down her face as she swings open the door to V and Kev’s house, throwing her purse on the floor. She tries to level out her breath as she pushes into the bathroom. Charlotte rests her hands on the sink as she watches herself cry in the mirror. Sobs racking her body she doubles over with the force of her crying. She was glad no one was home to see her like this.

She doesn’t even know what she’s doing when she climbs into the tub, bringing her knees to her chest. She raises her left hand to look at the small ring on her finger. It’s not what she used to picture. When she was younger, she would envision her life. She would dream about what her ring would look like. What her husband would be like.

It was always a ring like her mother’s, a large house like she grew up in and the some faceless prince who spun her in circles but surprisingly never spoke.

This life she was building with Phillip was nothing like that. They live in a small house with his siblings, he’d shared a room until he was 18 and got her ring from his drunken father. It was small, and wouldn’t pass as a kids toy where she came from. Phillip was quiet compared to his siblings, but generally loud, crass, and aggressive. With everyone except her at least. He was a prince. He does spin her around, and hug her, and kiss her and look at her like she’s everything. The life he gave her was better than she’d imagined.

But he’s ready to throw it away. And it hurts. Charlotte is tired of being the one being hurt.

She sits in silence for a few moments, staring at the tiles on the wall before she can distantly hear her phone chiming in her purse outside the bathroom door. She tries to ignore the clench in her chest, the little glimmer of hope that it’s Phillip, calling to say sorry, that he’d changed his mind and he was coming over so they could make up. Charlotte pushes out of the tub at the third chime, walking on unsteady legs over to the bag, sniffling and tucking hair behind her ear as she squints to read the messages.

It’s her manager from the club, asking if anyone was interested in working the day party for today because the promoter’s entertainment fell through. Normally, she’d turn this down. She knows how Lip feels about her new job, and for her it was only a means to an end. They were discussing alternatives until this shit started. But maybe working a party would be a good way for her to get her mind off of things, and make some extra cash. Especially since it seems she’ll be doing things by herself for now on.

“So you got married? That wasn’t a joke?”

“Uh, nope, real shit.” Lip takes a final swig of his beer before sailing it into the street, smiling softly at the glass shattering before opening another.

“Hm, never thought you were the marrying type.”

“M’not.”

Karen shrugs, sipping her own beer and looking up at him. “Must’ve been pretty though, to get you down the aisle. Or pregnant. Both?”

“Not pregnant.” He says, opening his phone and showing her a picture of Charlotte. He supposes he’s gonna have to stop having those at the ready, if he’s gonna move on. As if he could.

“Damn, she’s sexy.” Karen’s eyes widen as she grabs the phone. She remembers the current situation and bites her lip. “Sorry.”

“S’fine. She is. Fuckin’ beautiful.”

Karen looks out into the road again, hesitating for a moment before nudging Lip’s shoulder. “Want me to take your mind off of it? It’s been a while.”

Before Lip had even met Charlotte he had told himself he’d never fuck Karen again. She’s better now, sure, but she also almost fucking ruined his life multiple times. Once he had met Charlotte, he hadn’t even thought of it. He really didn’t consider that he’d ever fuck someone else again. A realization that surprised himself more than anyone, considering he’d never been the monogamous type.

But now he’s in pain. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever be with Charlotte again. That makes him feel cold in a way that he’s never felt before. Lip, desperate for any kind of break he can get from what he’s feeling, rolls his eyes to the sky. “Yeah, fuck it, why not.”

“Gee, you used to be a lot more excited for me to get you off.” she mumbles against his cheek before leaning in to kiss his lips.

Lip turns his head away, pulling his mouth from her reach, “Don’t um, kiss me.”

Karen looks at him for a moment before laughing. “Okay, kissing used to be your thing, not mine.” As she kneels in front of him, Lip finds himself squirming uncomfortably, looking everywhere but down when he feels her unzipping his pants. “Um…are you…is it like, too cold?”

“Uh, no, I’m…gimme a second.” He feels like he can’t breath, the ring on his finger feels like it’s literally fucking scalding his skin.

“Oh-kay.”

A few more moments pass and Karen speaks again. “Do you want me to help you? Is there anything I can do?”

“Nope, no, not at all. Just, shut up for one second, please.” He brings his hands together, tugging the ring off and putting it in his pocket and prays.

“You can think of her if you need to. I don’t mind.” she tries again.

“Um, yeah, maybe.” He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and lets the images of Charlotte that he’s racked up over time run across his brain. It feels good to think of her. To sift through the memories of her smiling up at him, holding him close, crying out his name. But he couldn’t trick his mind or body. He’s in love. Still. And she’s not the girl on her knees in front of him. “No, no.”

“No?”

“Yeah, sorry, I can’t I’m…I don’t think I can fuck someone who’s not my wife. At least right now.” Or ever. Shit. I’m never gonna get my dick wet again.

“Jeez, that’s serious.” Karen says. She hops up, tucking her hands in her pockets. “What is she? A contortionist?” Lip just looks at her and she sobers, her smile dropping. “Sorry. I’m serious. I’m talking to you as a friend, talk to me. Your wife is hot, and nice, and clearly has a hold over your dick, so what’s the problem, why’d you leave her?”

“She’s perfect.” Lip sighs, lighting another cigarette, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he works back the lump in his throat. He’ll be damned if he cries about this in front of Karen.

“Okay so-”

“She’s perfect. She’s everything, she deserves everything and I am stuck here. I live here. I was born here, I’m gonna live and die here and I don’t want her here to do it with me. So I can’t have her, that’s fine I’m teaching myself that it's fine but it fuckin’ sucks! It fuckin’ sucks Karen, and it’s fuckin’ worse because she’s willing to stay. I hate her for not making this easy!” He roughly throws the bottle into the street, barely missing a parked car.

“Oof. Okay. Clearly, you need to get your mind off of things.” She says, scooting the remainder of the six pack the pair of them bought from the liquor store across the street away from him. “C’mon, let’s get you a real drink and some recreational drugs.”

“You’re making some good tips out there girl, they’re loving you at this party.”

Charlotte smiles briefly before leaning over the vanity, reapplying her lip gloss in the mirror.

“Of course they are, they’re actually seeing her. Normally, guests only get a glimpse of the back of her head, before she runs into the back again to check in with her man.”

“Well, he won’t be checking in today, so-”

“What?”

Trish leans back in her own seat to look at her friend. “Did something happen with you and Lip?”

Charlotte tries to ignore the quiver in her lip and stare forward into the mirror, focusing on the pink she’s applying on her lips. “I dunno, he’s doing his own thing, I’m doing mine, I guess.”

“Well, that seems-”

“Girl, about time!” Kelsey, one of the girls Charlotte met through the club, claps, pushing her way into Charlotte’s seat. “All you talk about is that man and his gaggle of kids. Now, we can invite you to do fun stuff. We can go out!”

“They’re his siblings, first of all and they’re good kids.” Charlotte sighs, smoothing her hands over her hair.

“Gallagher kids? Okay.”

Charlotte’s eyes narrow, her mouth opening for her to ask her co-worker what the fuck she meant by that, something she would’ve never done a couple of months ago. But Trish beats her to it, patting her arm and shaking her head. Instead of telling her other coworkers about herself, Charlotte settles for rolling her eyes and mumbling, “We could’ve always gone out.”

“Please, the way you used to all but trip over yourself running out the door to climb back on Lip’s dick? When would we have the time to ask?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the girl loving her man, Renee.” Trish intervenes, leaving her arm tossed around Charlotte’s shoulders. Was she really that pathetic? Did she really spend all her time running behind Phillip? She supposes that she never took the time to think about it while it was happening, but is this what everyone thinks? “Just because you don’t have one.”

“Well,” Kelsey shrugs, rubbing more glitter lotion onto her chest and meeting Charlotte’s eyes in the mirror. “Doesn’t seem like Lottie does either anymore. So, Lottie, have you dislodged yourself from Gallagher’s side or not? Are we going out”

Charlotte fully plans to say yes. For the first time since she’d met her husband, she thought that maybe this is what she should have been doing. She’s only ever had two identities in her life. Mr. and Mrs. Fisher’s daughter, and Phillip Gallagher’s wife. She’s never been Charlotte. Not when she left home, not when she got her first job, she just went from being one person’s possession to another. Maybe this is all a sign that she should focus on being alone. However miserable that sounds. That’s why, whether you believe her or not, she was going to say yes.

Until her phone rings.

“What’d you even give him anyway?”

“Don’t fucking make it sound like that, it was just some weed and booze!”

“Fuckin’ weed and booze, he’s on his fuckin’ ass Karen! Fuckin’ idiot!”

“Fuck you! How was I supposed to know he drinks and smokes like a little bitch now?” the blonde girl huffs loudly as she turns back to the drunk man in front of them, barely intelligible as he slams his hands down on the bar again, demanding to be served another drink. “Lip, seriously, we need to fuckin’ go-”

“Get the fuck off me, I’m married.”

The bar owner emerges from the back again, his cellphone in hand, a scowl on his face. “Aye, Gallagher, she’s takin’ too long, he’s scaring the real customers, get him outta here before I gotta call the cops.”

Ian groans, running his hand down his face, “Yeah, good luck cleanin’ up all the coke you’ve got on these tables before they get here. Fuck off, your place is a dive, Billy.” Turning back to his brother, the redhead, tugs his arm, making the shorter brother stumble but ultimately not moving him at all. “Lip, come the fuck on man.”

“Just fuckin’ leave me alone. Not listenin’ fuckin’ idiot-” he slurs, shoving Ian a little before grabbing a half drunk beer from the bar and downing it.

“God-fuckin’-damnit-” Ian growls snatching the already empty bottles. His brown eyes catch on something over at the door and his tense stance settles. “Thank god.” he mumbles under his breath.

Karen’s eyes follow his over to a woman who looks just like the one Lip had shown her earlier, a tense, concerned look on her pretty face. Her cheeks dimple as her lips turn down into a frown upon spotting the spectacle in front of her. Her hair is tied up into a clean bun, her body covered with a matching sweat suit. Her eyes look exhausted. So that’s the wife?

“Phillip-”

“Bunny, you’re here, come drink with me, baby.” The blond offers her a crooked, drunk smile that has the same knee weakening effect on both women. His muscled arm shoots out, wrapping around the girl’s waist and tugging her to him, all but dragging her into his lap.

“No, Phillip, it’s time to go home. Let’s get you up.”

Big blue eyes roll closed, his forehead falling forward, uncoordinatedly thunking against the woman’s forehead. She doesn’t flinch, just keeping her tired, sad eyes on him as he inhales deeply, breathing her in. “We gonna go home together?”

It’s the softest voice Karen has ever heard the eldest Gallagher son use. He’d spoken to her softly before. They’d been best friends, lovers. He was always scared of her leaving…rightfully so. But this, it was like he was scared that she was going to break if he rose his voice too much. It was like he was whispering a secret that’s just for them and everyone else in the room is intruding. Karen hadn’t ever seen anything like it. She likes this for him.

The girl was ordering water, grabbing a straw from over the bar and guiding it to Lip’s mouth as he stayed close, rubbing his hands along her hips and mumbling about missing her between gulps. She hadn’t even looked at Karen, her eyes had locked on Lip since arriving. “Um, I’m Karen by the way.”

Big brown eyes finally take her in. There’s no disdain behind them. No hate. She doesn’t look at her like every other girl who’s ever loved Lip has looked at Karen. She just offers a tired look. Glossed lips parting briefly, snapping shut again when she feels the Lip’s head droop forward onto her shoulder, quick hands shooting up to cup the back of his curls. “I’m Charlotte. I’ve got to get him home, are you okay?”

“I’m..I’m sorry?”

Charlotte bites her lower lip in determination as she pats his cheek, getting him to stir awake again. Her eyes never return to acknowledge Karen. “Up, Bubba, up. Are you okay to get home? I…need to take him home, are you okay?”

Oh. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, Ian, can you please help him, help him stand?” Karen watches as this woman, Charlotte helps hoist Lip’s weight onto Ian, the redhead slinging his brother’s arm over his shoulder, nodding at Karen as they make their way out of the bar with her…ex? Best friend?

She can’t help but compare herself to the girl. She knew that they were both pretty, generally attractive in different ways. Both short. Big eyes. Round faces. Their difference physically was glaringly obvious, but that wasn’t what mattered. It was in the eyes. Everything is in the eyes. Not the color, but the looks.

When the evening started to turn sour, Karen had been fucking annoyed. She hates babysitting. Hates having to take care of people. That’s why she’s always loved being around Lip in one way or another. That’s why they’d been such good friends. He was the caretaker. He takes care of people. His family, neighborhood kids, her. He doesn’t ask for anything for himself aside from the occasional blowie, and it was mostly a joke.

Until he asked for more. Until he asked for love, attention and care and a partner. Things that Karen had no interest in. Things that crazy bitch Mandy wasn’t able to give him. He needed too much. He went from something easy to do, someone easy to be around to being this person who needs things.

It was hard, too hard. Being with Lip is exactly the daunting task people think it would be. But Charlotte, his wife, she’s doing it. She looks exhausted, pissed off, and just caught her husband hanging out with his ex. But she came. She managed to unclench her jaw and offer him a soft look and kind voice.

Karen had been poison to him. She knows that. She was bad for him, and to be honest, she’d thought that even with the time had passed he wouldn’t have been strong enough to get her out of his system. But, she should have known better than to underestimate Lip Gallagher. He found something good. Someone for him.

Good for him.

“I know you’re mad at’me.”

“Shut up, man, you’re just gonna make stuff worse.”

“M’talkin to my wife, motherfucker, you shut up.” Lip slurs as Ian all but drags him down the street. “Sweetheart-”

“Phillip, please.” Charlotte begs, voice cracking as she refuses to turn around and face him. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her own form, walking several paces ahead of the Gallagher brothers up the dark road. “Please.”

It had been going on since they started walking. He keeps trying to talk to her. He keeps calling her all of these sweet names and they fucking hurt. They hurt like him telling her that they could get their marriage annulled. They hurt like him telling her to go with her parents. They fucking hurt like him let her sit on his front porch crying and begging just to see him as he sat on the other side of the door. And now, she understands that he’s drunk or high or whatever, but she needs him to stop talking.

Her plea is answered with the silence she asked for. Shocked that he actually went silent, Charlotte whips around to see if he’d fallen asleep, but is met with big blue eyes with dilated pupils, brows softened as he meets her shaky gaze.

The woman turns around so he can’t see her chin tremble as she leads the group onto the streets. Another voice breaks the silence, over the sound of three sets of footsteps, only one set steady, the other two, sloppy and wavering. “Lottie, what do you wanna do?”

She knows what he’s asking. They’re rounding their homes. Where should he put him? Is she going to stay with him? And she immediately feels shame wash over herself. She knows the answers to all of those questions. She should be embarrassed. This man has treated her like shit over the last 24 hours. She hates how he made her feel about herself. She didn’t understand how he could be both the man who strolled past her as if he didn’t know her this morning and the one who was just looking at her the way he did.

But she’s weak, and he’s everything.

And she’s already shifting his weight from his brother's arms into hers, stumbling a little under it as she guides him toward her cousin’s house.

“Charlotte.”

“It’s okay.” she breathes. “I’ve got him.”

And she struggles getting him to the door. He tries to help, she can tell. But he’s too fucked up, his motor skills are lacking and only set back any progress she makes. She grips the railing with her spare hand as she helps him up the last step. She tells him to watch his step as she leads him through the doorway, eyes locking V’s as the wooden floors creak under his steps. She ignores the disappointed look on her cousin’s face as she guides her husband to her room. Their room.

But as she pulls the shoes from his feet and helps him into bed, she’s confident in one thing. Charlotte knows she loves this man. It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks the breaking point should be, or who they envision her with. She wants him. And she was going to keep acting like it.

Charlotte feels a tightness around her waist as she wakes up in the chair she’d dragged into the bedroom once she’d gotten Phillip settled. Her eyes are already watering as they peel open, burning from tears and exhaustion.

“I fucked up, Bunny.”

“Yeah,” Charlotte sighs, sniffling a little and letting her head drop back against the wall. “How bad?”

“I fuckin’ hurt you-” his voice is muffled against her stomach, his arms tightening around her, fingers squeeing and releasing the fabric of her shirt.

“Yes.”

“I hate that. M’just fucked up, y’know? But m’sorry, baby, m’sorry.”

Charlotte is annoyed by the sob that leaves her body involuntarily, causing him to pull her even closer to him, her butt almost hanging off of the chair. She’s even more annoyed that she’s wondering if his knees hurt from kneeling on the floor in front of her. She shouldn’t care. “You left me outs-side alone.”

“I know, baby, I know.” she feels a wet spot forming on her shirt and tries to stop her lower lip from shaking. “Fuckin’ supposed to be taking care of you. I’m a shitty husband, you deserve better. And I’m trying to be that, I swear, Charlotte I fuckin’ swear. I…I’m gettin’ to keep my job, and m’gonna save more, gonna get us some more money, just gimme a little more time, sweetheart. I know this fuckin’ sucks, but I’m gonna do better-”

“You’re hurting me.” Charlotte mumbles, staring up at the ceiling, letting the tears freely fall down her cheeks.

Suddenly his arms are gone from her waist and he’s staring up at her, frantically running his hands through his curls. “M’sorry, I was holding you too tight-”

“Have I done anything to make you believe I won’t wait? Have I cheated on you? Made you feel bad about not having a house for us? Buying a car right now? Anything? What did I do to deserve you telling me you didn’t want to be with me anymore? Stop hurting me!” She finishes with a stomp, feeling childish. Lip is quiet as he listens to her, his hand running along her thigh in soothing strokes.

“You’re perfect. You didn’t do anything, Charlotte. That’s why I was fuckin’ tryin’ to do the right thing.” Lip huffs, clenching his jaw anxiously. “I was tryin’ to give you up. Because there’s somethin’ wrong with me Charlotte. I can’t get out of my head. Everyday I wake up and hear how too fuckin’ good for me on loop in my head, and then people remind me, and I can say fuck ‘em, they’re not you, I don’t care what they think, but then your parents came-”

“Fuck them too.”

“No,” Lip pushes up off the floor and paces in the room. “Not fuck them, because yes, they’re fuckin’ assholes, but they made you, and you’re fuckin’ everything, so they are pretty much the authority on what’s good shit and what isn’t. I don’t deserve you, they know it, I know it, for some fuckin’ reason, you don’t know it, so let me make this clear for you, Bunny. This shit shouldn’t be so hard. I’m hurting you. That’s not what being in love with you feels like for me. My love for you isn’t good enough, because it’s making you suffer. Being in love with you gives me a fuckin’ reason to breathe. So I was trying to be fuckin’ good. And let you go.”

Charlotte watches as he finishes, standing in front of her. Blue eyes bloodshot. The veins in his neck popping out, his chest rising and falling with effort. He looks so serious. And all she can do is laugh. Literally, put her head in her hands and laugh.

“Um…what the fuck?” he asks incredulously, watching her shoulders shake with her laughter.

“You’re such an asshole, Phillip.” she giggles, wiping her wet cheeks, gasping in an attempt to stop her own laughter.

“I’m really not fuckin’ gettin’ the joke here.”

Charlotte shakes her head, crossing her legs as she sits up fully in the chair, trying not to break at the confusion on his face. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for you to decide that you want to save me the trouble of being in love with you? You pursued me, you asked me to marry you, you made me love you and it's too late. I’m stuck. You leave, I’m still hurt. You stay, you can choose to man up, make good on your promises, stop feeling sorry for yourself and be a good husband. You want to stop hurting me, then stop hurting me. Stop talking about me deserving better and be better.”

The couple stares at each other from across the room, nothing but white noise from the house fills the air as Charlotte’s challenge hangs between them. A few beats pass before Lip begins slightly nodding his head, the same focused face he keeps when he’s working on a project from work, or doing people’s taxes for extra money. Lip smooths his hand over his jaw, clearing his throat. “Okay. I’ll be better.”

“Okay.”

“Can I…uh, hold on a second.” The blond murmurs, crossing the floor and places his hand on her jaw, dragging her up into a deep kiss, absolutely breathing her in as he nearly pushes her chair back with the force he pushes against her. He breaks away only lightly, his lips against hers, as he speaks. “I love you. I’ll be better.”

“I love you too.” she smiles. “And I know.”

This is good…this is better. I’ll deal with the rest later.

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #oc #fiona gallagher #ian gallagher #kevin ball #lip gallagher x oc #veronica fisher #shameless #gallagher #better #charlotte fisher #lip gallagher x you #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey

62 notes · View notes

silverynight · 7 months

Text

Benefits and privileges

When Tanjirou wakes up, the mist hashira is in his room again. It's early in the morning so he knows Nezuko is back in her box.

He moves in order to sit on the ground and notices the way Tokito is staring at him, although Tanjirou has gotten used to his personality in the past days.

"Hi, Tokito-san!" He grins. "Do you want to have breakfast with me?"

The mist hashira nods, but this time he rises from the floor, opens the door and gives instructions to someone in the hallway.

Tanjirou is a little bit curious and he's about to ask what's going on when someone gets inside with a LOT of food. Everything looks absolutely delicious.

At first he thinks perhaps Tokito is like the love hashira and has a huge appetite, but the man puts almost all the food on Tanjirou's side of the table.

"Thanks!" Good thing he's really hungry that morning. Although they have never served him that amount of food. Actually, everything looks even more delicious than the other day.

As soon as they leave them alone, Tokito gets closer to him.

"You're a very low rank in the Corps," that's the first thing he says to Tanjirou, making the redhead nod in embarrassment.

"I know," he mumbles. "But I'll train everyday to–"

"You could rank up faster, you know?"

"Really?" Tanjirou turns his head to look at him, already invested in whatever he's going to say. Maybe Tokito wants to share a training technique with him?

The mist hashira smiles back at him; he has a fond expression on his face.

"Absolutely. You just have to marry a hashira."

Tanjirou knows Tokito doesn't joke so he doesn't laugh, but he does blush and smiles nervously back at him. It's obvious he has no idea that's pretty much impossible for him, he's not... He knows no one is interested in him, at least in that way.

"Thanks for the advice, but–"

"Listen, Tanjirou," Tokito cuts him off, getting even closer. "There are a lot of benefits that come with being one of the Pillars' husband. You'll receive the same training as a tsuguko, all the kakushi and other slayers have to treat you the same way they treat a hashira, you'll get better food, better equipment... You'll get the best swordsmiths. Your sister will be welcome anywhere..."

"That sounds really great," Tanjirou cuts him off, knowing his face is still red. "But I don't think they want to marry me. Although I thank you for–"

"I'll marry you," Tokito offers, eyes glimmering with excitement. It's weird to see him showing any kind of emotion, but in a good way.

Tanjirou scratches his cheek nervously; his face feels like is burning still.

"I appreciate it, but you don't have to do that for me."

"I want to," Tokito says immediately, getting a little bit desperate. He grabs Tanjirou's hands with his. "You can be my husband."

Wow. Tokito sure is a good person and a good friend; offering him to do that just to help Tanjirou. The redhead is very touched by his gesture.

"I honestly don't want to ruin your chances with another per–"

"I make more money than you!" The mist hashira says suddenly. "I know that's something that people like... I've heard it before..."

"Yeah, but I'm not–"

"Nezuko can have anything she wants!" Tokito insists, pulling Tanjirou into a hug and nuzzling against his cheek. "I'll tell them to prepare a special room for her in my estate. She'll be safe there."

That's honestly very tempting. Tanjirou looks back at the wooden box in the room and imagines her running around happily in a place that no one can hurt her.

Blushing, Tanjirou hopes he's not taking advantage of Tokito's friendship when he says: "Maybe a cute kimono for her? She always wanted one."

"Anything."

If the mist hashira is willing to do that for him, then the least Tanjirou can do is to make him happy or try to.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." He replies without hesitation.

"Okay, let's get married then!"

The smile on Tokito's face is so wide, but he looks good when he's happy. He leans to kiss Tanjirou's face before pressing his lips against the redhead's quickly.

"I'll let Oyakata-sama know."

Alright... It seems he's getting married soon.

***

Patreon

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #tanjiro kamado #muichiro tokito #muitan

119 notes · View notes

allmoshnobrain · 28 days

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 05 of 06 | masterpost

word count: 8,2k | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I sighed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks as I sensed a kind of understanding forming between the three of us, albeit slowly; Dave and James were like two sides of the same coin, always had been, brothers of fire and anger even before all their pain had driven them apart. Was it such a shocker that they'd both end up falling for the same woman? Was it such a surprise that I'd end up loving them both? Maybe we always knew it would eventually lead to this.

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, threesome, mxfxm sex, dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, unprotected sex, oral sex, drug issues mentioned, alcoholism, drinking

✦ a/n: Hey, everyone! So, this chapter turned out a bit longer too, but I couldn't wrap up the fic without throwing in this smut scene at least once. Honestly, it's one of my favorites in the whole story! Oh, and in case you haven't noticed - yeah, Leanne's husband is Joe Sinclair. He popped up in some earlier chapters as Lea's friend who had that cool beach house where they celebrated Cliff's birthday and where James first kissed Nore at Lea's birthday party. Next part's gonna be the finale, and I swear we're finally getting a happy ending after all the drama lol Thanks for sticking around and reading, feedback is appreciated! ❤

April 6, 1992

Dave and I came back from our weekend getaway even more head over heels for each other, if that was even possible. Now that our feelings were out in the open, any walls between us just crumbled away, leaving us with one undeniable truth: I was crazy about him, and he felt the same way about me. Life had never felt so simple.

Life had also never felt so damn complicated; come Monday, things took an unexpected turn when Lars unexpectedly dropped by. He showed up at my place bright and early, his usual chill vibe replaced with a hint of worry that had me wondering what was up.

"Hey, Lars. Come on in, I was just munching on some breakfast," I gestured for him to enter, stepping aside. He gave a somewhat tense smile and took a seat at the kitchen table, setting his backpack down. "Hungry? I've got pancakes, orange juice, some fresh sliced watermelon..."

"Just water, thanks. I grabbed a bite earlier," he replied, flashing a quick smile when he noticed my concern.

"If you're all fueled up, what's with the serious face?" I inquired. "Something happened?"

"Actually..." he trailed off. I plopped down at the table, sliding a glass of water his way and pouring myself some juice, giving him a curious glance. "You catch the news today?"

"News?" I furrowed my brow, and Lars let out a sigh, seeming resigned. He unzipped his backpack, pulling out a magazine and passing it over to me. I blinked at him, puzzled, before focusing on the publication.

What I saw left me gaping in disbelief.

The magazine was one of those gossip rags, the kind I never bought because I had never been interested in such stuff. If I didn't expect Lars to read this kind of thing, I certainly didn't expect to see myself on the cover. The photo showed a painfully familiar scene; Dave and I getting off at the airport together the night before, him with an arm around my waist, pulling me close as he whispered something in my ear and I smiled. We both looked happy; happy and at peace, like I hadn't felt in a long time.

The photo didn't take up the whole cover; there was some other Hollywood gossip splashed across it that I barely paid attention to as I zeroed in on the caption beneath my picture with Dave.

SHE’S GOT A TYPE? Get the lowdown on Nore Burton and her new metalhead boyfriend, snapped in LA yesterday, on page 30.

I hurriedly flipped through the magazine, landing on the page mentioned and scanning through it, feeling my face flush hotter with every word.

Lately, there's been a buzz among Hollywood bigwigs and celebs about a fresh face on the scene: Eleanore Burton (27), aka Nore Burton. The actress, with a theater background and gearing up for her small-screen debut, turned heads by snagging the lead in Pacific Coast Television's (PCT) latest romance series, sharing the screen with some seasoned industry pros.

What's not widely known is that the actress is actually cousins with late Metallica bassist, Cliff Burton. And then there's the rollercoaster romance between her and the band's frontman and guitarist, James Hetfield (28). They've been on and off since way before they hit the big time, dabbling with other flings whenever they hit a rough patch.

But what really caught our eye was spotting the actress getting cozy with a new flame: Dave Mustaine (30), infamous for his sharp tongue and ongoing feud with Metallica after getting kicked out of the band in '83. A trusted source confided that they were actually together for a few months earlier that same year, but things fizzled out shortly after Metallica dropped their debut album, Kill 'em All.

It's anyone's guess how James Hetfield feels about his sweetheart's new fling. How's he gonna take the news that she's back in touch with an old flame he's not too keen on? We tried reaching out to Hetfield via Metallica's reps, but no word back yet as of press time.

"They went after him?" I shouted, eyebrows raised, looking at Lars in shock. "Lars, I had no clue about this pic! I..." I shook my head, too stunned to finish.

"Yeah, welcome to the club, babe," Lars quipped, snatching the magazine from me. "Just wait till you need bodyguards for your Bloomingdale's run. Fame's got its downsides, no doubt." He glanced up, frowning. "When were you planning to spill the beans about getting back with Mustaine?"

"I was going to, I swear," I said, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks. Lars just huffed, giving me an incredulous look. I couldn't blame him for being peeved; maybe I should've looped them in sooner. But I didn’t expect my personal life would become front-page news like that. "Seriously, Lars. Dave and I just reconnected last month, but everything happened so fast..."

"And what about James? Did he get the memo, or did he find out through the grapevine?"

"He knows Dave and I crossed paths again. But..." I paused, feeling a lump form in my throat, my voice trailing off as memories of James' silent treatment flooded back. "He's been avoiding me for weeks. I've called, but no answer. It's like I'm invisible to him," I finished in a mumble, blinking back a lone tear rolling down my cheek.

Lars gazed at me for a beat, then let out a sigh, opening his arms for a hug. I blinked back tears, feeling them well up despite my efforts, and eased myself into his embrace.

"You know you could've spilled this to us, me and Kirk," he said softly. "You could've mentioned James was giving you the silent treatment again. We would've had your back."

"I didn't want to be a burden," I murmured, and he scoffed.

"You're not a burden. We're family; we look out for each other, got it?"

"Thanks," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion, as I stepped back. I straightened up, brushing my hair back and sniffing, wiping away the tears that had slipped down my cheeks. "I... I'll give him a call. And if he doesn't pick up, I'll swing by his place after today's shoot. We gotta talk things out; it ain't cool for him to shut himself off like this."

"You want me to come along?" Lars offered, rising from his seat, and I shook my head no. I'd rather handle this on my own. "Okay; I got some stuff to sort out myself. We're hitting the road soon for a tour, won't be back till August for Lea's wedding. If James pops up, I'll call you, alright? And let him know you're looking to chat."

"Sure thing, Lars," I smiled softly as he clasped my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Appreciate it."

As expected, I couldn't get hold of James; every call went straight to voicemail. I got swept back into my daily grind, a hectic day of non-stop shooting. Word about me and Dave must've spread like wildfire; some colleagues offered sympathetic words, but I also caught plenty of curious looks and hushed chatter whenever I was on set during the day.

I left the studio totally beat; all I craved was getting home, hitting the shower, and crashing out. But, sticking to my morning promise, I made my way to James' place. I stood at the door, debating whether to ring the bell. After a moment, I went for it, but got no response. I fidgeted nervously, wondering if I'd picked a lousy time to drop by; I wasn't even sure he'd be home. I hit the bell again and waited. Just when I was about to bail, James finally swung open the door.

The moment I laid eyes on him, I could tell he wasn't okay; his disheveled hair, creased forehead, and bloodshot eyes gave away recent drinking. He just stood there, staring at me, before stepping aside silently to let me in. I winced at the sight of his living room, a mess that brought back memories of our wild party days back when we were younger; empty beer bottles littered the floor, clothes tossed haphazardly on the couch, and a stack of pizza boxes sitting on the corner table.

"You showed up," James muttered hoarsely, and I turned to him. He gazed at me, a mix of pain and bitterness flashing in his blue eyes, sending a wave of discomfort through me. "Finally remembered I'm alive? Or did your boyfriend not want you around today?"

"James..." I started, my tone a mix of caution and desperation. I wasn't looking for a fight. All I wanted was to talk things out with him. He snorted before heading to the kitchen, and I trailed after him. I watched with worry as he opened the fridge, reaching for a beer. "I... I don't think booze is the answer right now."

"Thanks for the tip, but I'll pass," he smirked, sarcastically. "What brings you here, Nore? Suddenly worried about my feelings now that the whole world knows you're with someone else?"

"James, that's not fair," I said, my voice choking up. "I've been trying to reach out to you for weeks. You've been ignoring my calls, you didn't answer any of my voicemails, and now I'm the one who doesn't care?"

He shot me an annoyed look but stayed silent. I sighed, blinking away the forming tears as I looked away from him, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat. Maybe coming after him wasn't such a great idea after all.

"Lars mentioned you're hitting the road soon. How are you planning to handle that if you're in this state?" I questioned weakly, and he just rolled his eyes.

"And what's it to you?"

"I do care about you, James. Even if you can't see it," I answered, my voice dropping, feeling the weight of his anger. Whenever James got like this, I felt lost, like a ship tossed at sea, struggling to find solid ground but always drifting. It was like he was slipping further away, and I couldn't reel him back in. I couldn't handle it — his distance or the hurt it caused.

"Why'd you go back to him, Nore?" he questioned suddenly, his voice now filled with anguish. "Wasn't I good enough for you?"

"James, please," I implored, taking a step forward, but he shook his head, backing away. "Come on. You know I care about you..."

"Don't say that while I have to watch you happy with him," James snapped. "Really, Nore? Fucking Mustaine? I can handle you seeing other people when we're not good, but did it have to be him ? The one person I know I can't measure up to?"

"James," I begged, my voice catching. "I didn't plan for this. But I can't ignore how I feel. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us. But you don't have to push me away. Please, let me help..."

" Stop it ," he interrupted, his voice sharp and icy. I flinched, holding back tears, feeling a pang of sadness as I watched James' expression turn hostile. "I told you not to come crying to me, didn't I? I don't want to fucking see you, I don't want to hear about your life. I don't know why you still think I give a shit," he snarled, his words laced with venomous anger.

I gaped at him, stunned, my heart pounding painfully in my chest as I watched the realization of what he'd just said sinking in, the hostility melting into regret in his blue eyes. He reached out, but it was too late; the damage was done, my heart shattered, and I knew I couldn't stand to be near James for another second right then, no matter how hard I tried.

As he came closer, I swatted his hand away, tears streaming down my face. I backed off quick, just needing to get away, to put as much space between my pain and James' rising temper as I could, even if that meant widening the gap between us even more.

I got home feeling totally crushed, tears still streaking down my cheeks as I flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh, and caught sight of the blinking light on the phone, telling me I had messages waiting. I grabbed the phone and held it up to my ear, tapping the button to listen to the voicemails. A faint smile crept onto my face as Dave's voice came through.

Hey, babe. How's it going? Just saw that article they threw out about us. Give me a call, alright?

I let out a sigh. Even though I was feeling pretty down, I knew chatting with Dave would lift my spirits, so I quickly dialed up his number.

"Hey."

"Hi, Dave," I said, trying to put on a smile even though my voice was still a bit wobbly.

"Hey, sweetheart. You alright?" Dave asked, sounding all worried. Of course he'd pick up on my mood instantly; nobody read me like Dave did.

"I..." I let out a sigh; I didn't wanna stress him out, but I also couldn't keep everything that went down with James from him. "No, I'm not," I confessed. "I... I went to see James, Dave. He's not in a good place... We had a huge fight, he said some nasty stuff, and I..."

"It's because of that stupid article, right?" he said, his voice tense. I agreed, and he let out a sigh. "Hey, wanna swing by my place? I don't want you to be alone if you're feeling this bummed out. I'll whip up some dinner for us."

"Wait, you actually know how to cook?" I asked, my genuine curiosity distracting me from my sadness for a moment, and he chuckled softly.

"I'm getting there. Can't survive on fast food forever, you know. But I can always order in if you're not convinced by my culinary skills," he said, and I giggled.

"No need. I'm game to try your cooking. I'll just change and head over there, then."

I showed up at Dave's home not long after, carrying a backpack slung over my shoulder packed with all the stuff I figured I'd need for the next day. When he swung the door open, I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest.

"Hey," he chuckled softly, running his fingers through my hair. I glanced up, standing on my toes to plant a kiss on his lips. He grinned, his hands cradling my face gently. "C'mon, let's head inside."

I smiled softly when I stepped into Dave's place and noticed the living room, dimly lit and cozy, lit up with just a small lamp while some soft tunes played in the background. Not the usual heavy metal songs I was used to enjoying with him, but instead, a nice, slow piano melody. The dining table was all set with red candles flickering, some spaghetti bolognese, and a bottle of red wine.

Dave snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on my shoulder, swaying along to the music. I couldn't help but let out a soft giggle. I turned around to wrap my arms around his neck; he slid his hands down to my waist, giving me a light kiss on the lips before resting his forehead against mine.

"A candlelit dinner and some music? You're pulling out all the stops this time, Mustaine," I remarked, and he grinned.

"Just wait 'til you see what I've got planned for after we go to bed."

"You didn't go all out with rose petals and stuff, did you?" I teased, and he chuckled, giving me a tight hug and a light kiss on the lips.

"I'd do anything to see you smile. You know that, right?" he asked, softly.

How could I feel anything but pure joy hearing that? Having Dave back in my life felt like a dream, one that just kept getting sweeter by the day. I could see it in his eyes he meant it, despite all the mess with James, despite all the baggage from my past. He loved me, plain and simple. What more could I ask for?

Instead of answering, I simply leaned in and planted another kiss on his lips.

August 15, 1992

The next few months flew by in a blur. Between my jam-packed schedule and all my commitments, things slowly started shifting. Dave and I made it official, letting everyone know we were back on, and sure, at first, it caused a bit of a stir with the gossip mags and our circle of friends. But soon enough, the novelty wore off, and we got our privacy back.

The moments I spent with him were just something else; every day, our bond got stronger, and I couldn't get enough of Dave - his smile, the feel of his skin on mine, the taste of his kiss, and how his eyes softened whenever they locked with mine.

Dave kept fighting to stay clear of falling back into addiction, even though some days were really tough on him. I did what I could to support him, even if I knew deep down that I couldn't fix everything. But Dave always made sure to let me know that just having me around made things a whole lot easier.

Having him around definitely helped ease my load too; getting back with Dave kind of lifted some of the heaviness I'd been carrying around for the past few years. Sure, I knew I'd always have to deal with the sadness that came with losing Cliff. But the pain of having lost Dave in the past bit by bit was slowly being replaced by love - real, deep love that filled up my chest almost entirely.

Almost entirely, except for the part that still hurt because of my messed-up relationship with James. We'd been in this complicated dance for a few years now, but lately, he'd been more distant than ever. I mean, I get it, being a big-time artist, time works a bit differently, right? It wasn’t unusual for us to go ages without seeing each other when the band was out on their never-ending tours, but usually, we'd at least keep some kind of contact going.

But lately, it felt like he was going out of his way to steer clear of me, and honestly, I wasn't really feeling the urge to patch things up after the nasty stuff he'd flung my way last time we talked. I'd still give Lars and Kirk quick calls to check in on them every now and then, but I made sure to steer clear of bringing up James, and they didn't mention him either.

I figured I'd bump into him sooner or later. I mean, with Leanne's wedding creeping up, it was bound to happen. Lea and Joe had settled on tying the knot down in New Orleans and had snagged a whole hotel to fit everyone in. I caught up with them the day before the big party, when they swung by to greet us at the airport and give us a ride to the hotel.

The moment I laid eyes on Lea, a huge smile spread across my face; she was just like I remembered her, with her dark locks and sparkly eyes, but I couldn't help but do a double-take at the little bump showing she was expecting. As for Lea, she didn't seem at all shocked to see Dave tagging along with me for the event. Despite the miles between us, Leanne and I always made sure to keep each other in the loop about what was going on in our lives.

"You’re pregnant? " I blurted out, all wide-eyed and grinning as she pulled me into a hug. She laughed.

"Yeah, I am! Joe and I were just as shocked, believe me. I'm at 19 weeks... Oh, sorry, that's like 4 months, right? I didn't spill the beans sooner 'cause I wanted to tell you face-to-face."

"Wow, Lea. That's amazing news, congrats!" I gushed, beaming at her, and she beamed right back.

Man, I was beyond thrilled for her. Even though Leanne and I hadn't been as close lately, I still saw her as one of my ride-or-die besties, and I knew she felt the same way. Losing Cliff had changed a lot of stuff, but it didn't touch the bond we had. Seeing her all glowing and living her best life, well, it warmed my heart more than words could say.

Dave and I tagged along with Leanne to the airport parking lot, and there was Joe, leaning against the car, waiting for us. His face lit up with a smile when he spotted us. While Leanne hadn't changed much, Joe was a whole new dude compared to the long-haired blondie I knew back in my San Francisco days. These days, he kept his hair super short, almost buzzed, and sported a full beard. But that friendly grin of his was still exactly the same.

"Hey, Nore, Dave! Been ages!" he said, giving us a hug before unlocking the car. "How've you been? Pumped for the party?"

"I'm counting down the minutes," I grinned, and Leanne let out a soft chuckle. "But you two must be over the moon, right? Tomorrow's your big day!"

"Oh, you have no idea," Leanne said, all hyped up. "We've been waiting for this forever, and now that it's finally happening, it's like pinch-me-I'm-dreaming territory."

We pulled up at the hotel before we knew it. Dave and I gave Leanne and Joe a big thanks for the lift, then headed inside to check-in and crash for a bit. I mean, the next day was gonna be huge. Finally, we made it to our room, and I let out a sigh of relief, humming a little as I started unpacking. Dave glanced over at me, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You're looking pretty happy," he observed, moving in closer and resting a hand on my waist. I let out a soft chuckle as he planted a kiss on my cheek, his lips brushing lightly against my skin before meeting mine. "I love seeing you like this."

"Isn't it crazy that Lea's gonna have a baby? That's awesome," I remarked, grinning. Dave chuckled softly, pulling me into a hug before his lips found mine once more. I let out a contented sigh as he gently gripped my hips, drawing me closer.

"You ever thought about having one?" he murmured, his voice low and a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaned in close to my ear. I pulled back a bit, feeling a blush creep up on my cheeks as I looked at him, surprised. "We could have a little one someday. You know, down the road. Or two. Or ten ."

"How'd we jump from two to ten?" I giggled, and he let out a big laugh.

"Just throwing it out there. If you want, I’d love to have a future with you."

Those words from Dave kept swirling around in my head all night, even after we'd settled into bed. Ever since Cliff had passed, I'd been steering clear of making any big plans for the future. Losing him had hit me hard, wrecking any dreams I used to have. For a while, I’d just let life happen, rolling with the punches as they came. I was so, so terrified of hoping for anything and ending up crushed and broken again. But with Dave by my side, everything felt different, like the world was painted in brighter colors. Was it okay to start thinking about a future where we wouldn't ever have to be distant again? Was it okay to start thinking about a future with him?

A future with him. Just the thought made my stomach tie up in knots, all tangled up with the fear that it could all go south one day. But deep down, I knew I craved it with every fiber of my being.

Maybe I wasn't exactly brimming with courage right then, but one thing I knew for sure: for as long as I lived, I never wanted to be apart from Dave again.

August 16, 1992

Leanne's wedding ceremony was short and sweet, but emotional. I'll admit, I got a bit teary-eyed watching her stroll down that aisle, all choked up with happy tears but still beaming. On the downside, being a bridesmaid meant I couldn't shake the feeling of James' eyes on me the whole time. Him, Lars, and Kirk were all groomsmen at the wedding too.

James and I had crossed paths real quick at the hotel during breakfast, but it was like we were total strangers. Not a single word passed between us. Maybe I was being a bit stubborn, but after the nasty stuff he'd flung at me months back, I wasn't about to be the one to make the first move and patch things up.

The wedding’s reception kicked off pretty quickly, held at a beautiful historical mansion not far from our hotel. I snagged a seat at the table set aside for me, Dave, and a bunch of other folks while he headed off to grab some food. I glanced up with a grin when I noticed a familiar face plop down beside me.

"Hey, Kirk," I greeted, and he flashed me a warm smile.

"Hey, Nore! Finally tracked you down. So, I noticed Lea moved you to a different table... Is it 'cause you and James had a spat or 'cause your boyfriend's not our biggest fan?" he quipped, and I chuckled.

"Maybe a bit of both. But don't sweat it, Dave won't mind me hanging with you guys. As for James..." I let out a sigh. "How's he holding up?"

Kirk grimaced.

"The usual drill, ya know. Him and Lars got into it like three times on the tour... Lars keeps pushing him to hit up rehab, but James insists he’s good," he sighed, then flashed a grin. "Sorry 'bout the tiff you guys had. But he'll bounce back, trust me."

"I know. It's just frustrating when you wanna lend a hand but the other person isn’t having it," I admitted with a sigh, then glanced up as Dave strolled over with two plates of food. "Red alert, Dave's on the scene," I joked, and Kirk chuckled before standing up.

"I'll bail for now. Don't wanna ruffle your boyfriend's feathers too much. We'll chat later, Nore."

I flashed Kirk a smile as he headed off to join Lars and James at their table. Heat rushed to my cheeks when I sensed James looking my way, so I quickly turned my attention to Dave.

"Brought food," Dave grinned, sliding a plate in front of me before settling down beside me. "So, what was up with Hammett?"

"Just chatting. You know we haven’t seen each other in a while," I answered, a small smile playing on my lips. He scoffed, rolling his eyes, but didn't seem too bothered. "Jealous, much?" I teased.

"No need for jealousy, sweetheart. I know you're madly in love with me," he grinned, and I playfully nudged his arm, chuckling.

We wrapped up our meal, happily chatting the whole time. Once dinner was done, a sweet tune started playing, and I couldn't help but grin as I watched Leanne and Joe twirling around the dance floor. Leanne looked stunning in her fancy dress, her hair all dolled up with twinkling little gems. Joe looked like he was on cloud nine, beaming at her like she’d hung the moon. I felt Dave slide an arm around my waist, planting a soft kiss on my temple, and I melted into his embrace.

The party flowed like honey, with drinks pouring freely, mouthwatering meals, and catching up with old friends. Leanne had rounded up a bunch of folks from our San Francisco days, so mingling was easy. Dave and I bounced around, shooting the breeze with different faces, and as the booze kicked in, things got looser. I ended up deep in conversation with Lars at one point, while Dave snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I couldn't help but chuckle at how unexpected and unlikely the moment felt.

The only person I hardly even crossed paths with was James. I mean, there was this one time when I was heading back from the bathroom and accidentally plowed right into him. He caught me, his hands gripping my shoulders tight, and I couldn't help but blush when I looked up and saw it was him. I took a step back, my face probably as red as a tomato, while he just stood there, all serious, not saying a word.

"What?" I snapped, my voice a bit sharper than I meant it to be. He just kept on staring at me, like he was trying to figure out what to say, but I wasn't in the mood to hash things out with him. I spun on my heel and headed back to Dave, who was busy grabbing us a couple of drinks at the bar.

“Hey, babe. You good?" Dave asked, passing me a glass filled with a drink. I took a sip and nodded, shooting a quick glance over at James, who was still eyeing me from afar. We locked eyes for a sec, both of us clearly ticked off, until Dave caught on and followed my gaze. He frowned, grabbing my hand. "C'mon, let's go somewhere else."

I tore my gaze away from James, ditching my drink on some random table as I trailed after Dave, feeling kinda intrigued. The way Dave's shoulders tensed up told me he wasn't exactly thrilled about the silent stare-down I just had with James.

He led me through the mansion's hall and out the back door, where we found ourselves in a huge, empty garden since most of the guests were still inside. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was up to, as he guided me to a secluded spot in the garden. My eyes widened in surprise when he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me before planting a harsh kiss on my lips.

"What's the deal with you and James?" he growled, catching me off guard with the intensity in his voice.

"Dave, it’s nothing," I murmured, but he just grunted in response, kissing me again with a bit too much force, his tongue pushing into my mouth without any of the usual gentleness. I let out a little moan, taken aback, gripping onto his arms as his hold on my waist tightened.

"He's been eyeing you all night, and now you can't seem to take your eyes off him," he murmured, giving my lip a light nip as he backed me against the wall. He slid one knee between my legs and his hand rested lightly on my neck. "You gonna clue me in on why you're giving him all this attention?"

"He's just being a jerk. I'm not giving him the time of day, I... Oh!" I gasped when Dave spun me around, pressing my back against him and pulling me close, letting me feel his hard-on as he started kissing my neck. "Dave, hold on, you're drunk..."

"And what if I am? You are too," he grunted, but eased up on his hold a bit. His lips, however, kept on working their magic on my skin, planting soft kisses that sent shivers down my spine. "What's wrong? You wanna go back to him?"

"It's not that," I murmured, daring to turn to face him again. Dave looked at me, his eyes filled with turmoil as I gripped onto his arms, feeling my heart pounding and my cheeks heating up. "I want you, Dave," I declared, reaching up to his face and wiping away the lipstick that had smeared from my lips to his. He grunted, grabbing my wrist before pressing me back against the wall, his lips finding my neck once more as he nibbled and sucked gently. I let out a little moan, caught off guard, closing my eyes. "Dave..."

"If I make it crystal clear to everyone that you're mine, will that jerk finally back off?" he growled, nipping at my neck again in a way that I knew would leave a mark. I gasped, clutching onto his shirt and shutting my eyes. "You know I'm planning to fuck you stupid all night long, right?"

"Hmm... Dave, please..." I begged, not entirely sure if I wanted him to stop or to keep going. He grunted, but pulled back, leaving me with one last kiss on my neck before stepping away, his cheeks flushed and his gaze burning with intensity.

"We should head back," he suggested, his voice low and husky, his fingers intertwining with mine. I nodded, my heart still pounding, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through me at his touch.

We made our way back to the party; Dave and I ducked into the bathrooms to freshen up before rejoining the crowd. I blushed when I caught sight of myself in the mirror: flushed cheeks, smudged lipstick, hair slightly tousled, and two distinct red marks on my neck's smooth skin. I did my best to fix my hair and makeup, dabbing at the hickeys with cold water in a vain attempt to reduce the bruises that I knew would linger for days.

I headed to the bar, grabbing a glass of water to cool down. I glanced around, searching for Dave, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he hadn’t left the bathroom yet. I settled at a table with a sigh, my heart still fluttering a bit.

"Your guy's a bit possessive, huh?" a voice chimed in, and I glanced up to see James with that familiar smirk on his face, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and bitterness.

"After all this time, that's your opening line?" I shot back, my tone icy. He took a seat beside me, his gaze fixating on the marks on my neck. His fingers traced the edges of the redness softly, sending a shiver down my spine.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he muttered, "You love having him under your spell. And me too," he added, lifting his gaze to meet mine, his eyes flickering with anger and something else, a mix of emotions I couldn't quite pin down, but definitely edged with desire.

"You're not even gonna say sorry? Just gonna stay there spewing out this nonsense?" I shot back, aiming for hostility but only managing to sound wounded. He scoffed, leaning in closer, his lips pressing against the bruises, kissing and biting them softly before he murmured against my skin:

"I'm sorry." Then he straightened up, leaving me stunned, heart racing and face flushed as I watched him walk away without a backward glance.

After the party wrapped up, Dave and I hopped in a taxi back to the hotel. We were quiet on the ride, his fingertips tracing little circles on my inner thigh, sending shivers up my spine. Once we got to our room, I headed to the bathroom, flicking on the tap to start filling the bathtub while Dave took his clothes off. Leaning against the door frame, I watched him kick off his shoes, feeling the buzz from the drinks at the party making me even more eager to pick up where we’d left off with that kiss.

"Are you hopping in the bath with me?" I asked, shooting Dave a coy smile as he loosened his tie. He smiled back and walked over, wrapping his arms around my waist and planting a soft kiss on my lips, while his hand fumbled for the zipper of my dress.

He paused when we heard knocks on the door. I frowned, wondering if it could be hotel staff or something. Dave sighed, annoyed, as the knocking continued.

"Better shut off the tap before we flood the room," he remarked, and I chuckled softly. "Let me handle this while you do it."

I headed into the bathroom, shutting off the tap as I listened to Dave dealing with whoever was at the door. I perked up, intrigued, when I heard a familiar voice followed by Dave's tense and irritated tone:

"You've got some guts showing up here, huh?"

I furrowed my brow, puzzled, and went back to the room, my jaw dropped in confusion when I spotted James at the door, locking eyes with Dave in a standoff.

"James?" I blurted out, taken aback, and both men turned to look at me, frustration and anger etched on both their faces. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He eyed me for a beat, tension thickening as Dave's gaze drilled into him. It was like mixing gasoline with a lit match; all of us were already worked up and intoxicated after a night of partying, and James clearly had some bones to pick with both Dave and me. James made a move to step into the room, but Dave cut him off, blocking the entrance with his arm.

"She asked you a fucking question," Dave growled, and James finally glanced at him, a sarcastic smirk creeping onto his lips.

"I came here to talk to her, not to you," James slurred, his voice thick with alcohol. Dave looked ready to snap, his free hand balling into a fist.

"Dave," I stepped in, grabbing his arm and easing it down. He turned to me, and I placed my hand on his chest. "It's alright. Let him in."

Dave sighed heavily but reluctantly moved aside, his face tight with tension, his eyes burning with anger and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"You're like her little lapdog, aren't you? Whatever she wants, you jump, just to keep her happy," James remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I shot him a disapproving look, furrowing my brow, but before I could respond, Dave interrupted with a growl:

"And what about you, huh? You're here to grovel for her forgiveness?" Dave stepped forward, confronting James with a challenging glare. I glanced nervously between them, reaching out to touch Dave's arm in a futile attempt to calm him, but he shrugged me off. "I see the way you look at her, Hetfield. You think I don't notice? You're pathetic."

"That's the crux of it, isn't it?" James snarled. "You and I, we're cut from the same cloth. We both crave her love, her attention, hoping we'll be the lucky one she picks in this messed-up game."

"Except she already chose me," Dave shot back. "Game over. And you know I don't like sharing what's mine."

"Maybe you guys should give it a shot," I blurted out, without really thinking, eager to diffuse the tension between them, but instantly regretting it. Dave and James both turned to look at me, wearing expressions of disbelief, while I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Um... I just meant..."

"Try sharing you?" Dave chuckled, as if what I’d said was totally nonsensical. I blushed when he gently lifted my chin with his hand, locking eyes with me as he leaned in close, his words a soft whisper, "You don't even know what you're asking for, do you, sweetheart?"

"I just don't want you guys fighting," I murmured, pleadingly. "Please, Dave. You know I care about both of you."

James chuckled, shifting our focus away from each other. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, he had that same intense look in his eyes as when we’d talked earlier — anger, jealousy, and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on at first, but then recognized: longing.

"You always play nice with everyone and it drives me fucking crazy," he remarked, moving closer and closing the door behind him. My heart raced as his hand trailed down my neck to collarbone, all while Dave kept a close eye on him. "There's no escaping this, Nore. Choosing one means hurting the other. And he's got a point." James shot a glance at Dave, who raised an eyebrow. "I'm not exactly great at sharing what's mine either. You know you can't have us both, right?"

"I know. But I don't wanna lose either of you," I admitted, feeling my cheeks heat up as James came closer with a growl, planting his lips on mine. I gasped in surprise, and he seized the moment to slip his tongue into my mouth, his hands firm on my waist. I let out a soft moan as I felt Dave's lips on my neck, planting slow kisses until he reached my ear.

"You sure about this?" he questioned, and I nodded, shutting my eyes and yielding to James' kiss, eliciting a soft growl from him as I tangled my fingers in his hair. "Didn't know you were this greedy, babe," Dave murmured, but he didn't seem upset, more like amused.

Was this really happening? It was hard to wrap my head around it, hard to think straight as the lips of the two men I loved roamed over my mouth, my neck, my skin, igniting sensations that made my whole body tingle. Dave's fingers deftly unzipped my dress.

"Talk to me," James whispered in my ear, and I shut my eyes, my lips parting slightly as I exhaled, Dave still planting kisses on my neck as he eased down my dress. "Tell me you want this, I gotta hear it from you."

"Please, I want both of you," I breathed out, and Dave tightened his grip around my waist, pulling me snug against his body while James teased my earlobe.

I let out a sigh as Dave tilted my head, locking his lips with mine, our tongues moving together while James worked on unclasping my bra and took a nipple into his mouth, giving it a playful nip before leaving small hickeys all over my soft skin. I couldn't help but moan, the sensations overwhelming me. I was completely lost in the moment, swept away by the touch of both of them. It was beyond anything I'd ever dared to dream.

James backed off a bit, his hands resting gently on my hips while Dave went back to peppering my neck with kisses, his hardness pressed against my butt. I stole a glance at James, noticing his distant gaze and flushed cheeks as he watched me, his fingers tracing my cheek softly.

"How do you pull it off? You're still perfect even when you're messing with my head," James muttered, and Dave snarled softly, leaning his head on my shoulder, their eyes locking for a moment. James' expression was hard, revealing a blend of frustration and reluctant acceptance.

"Why do you think I'm crazy about her?" Dave murmured, his lips trailing from my neck up to my jawline in a slow, deliberate path.

I sighed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as I sensed a kind of understanding forming between the three of us, albeit slowly; Dave and James were like two sides of the same coin, always had been, brothers of fire and anger even before all their pain had driven them apart. Was it such a shocker that they'd both end up falling for the same woman? Was it such a surprise that I'd end up loving them both?

Maybe we always knew it would eventually lead to this. Maybe we’d all been waiting for this moment, a collision of stars, like waves crashing on the shore on a rainy day. It was dangerous, but exhilarating — so much so that I almost wished we wouldn't cross this line, because I knew I could never come back.

But, at least from now, it seemed good enough to be worth it.

James took a step back, loosening his shirt’s buttons and slipping it off gradually, working on undoing his pants next. I watched him, feeling a shiver run down my spine as Dave's hands caressed my breasts softly. I let out a sigh as James came closer, and reached out, my fingers tracing the edge of his underwear slowly. James grunted, grabbing my hand on his and pressing it against the outline of his erection.

"No way," Dave grunted, clutching my wrist tightly, while James arched an eyebrow. "She's mine first. You can watch," he declared, and James chuckled, rolling his eyes with a smirk. Dave wrapped his arm around my waist, pivoting me to face him, and planted a slow kiss on my lips as I unfastened his shirt.

"Is this your way of proving I'm yours?" I whispered, and he grunted against my lips. "By fucking me in front of him?"

Dave didn't say a word; he guided me to the bed, laying me down and sliding off my panties before undoing his pants and lowering them. James joined us on the bed, shedding his underwear and stretching out, placing my head on his thigh and tenderly running his fingers through my hair, his gaze fixed on my face as he caressed it. Dave finished stripping, then climbed on top of me; I shut my eyes, letting out a soft moan as he pushed into me and I felt him spread me open. James let out a low, rough sound, leisurely stroking my hair. When I looked at him, I saw he held his hard cock in his hand, jerking it softly.

I shifted my gaze to Dave, who kissed me slowly, his intense hazel eyes serious as he pushed into me. His lips moved against mine, his tongue intertwining with mine as he thrust forcefully. I let out soft moans against his mouth, tears brimming in my eyes from the pleasure of feeling him inside me.

"Dave…" I whispered, and he groaned, pulling me close, our gazes locking in a heated embrace.

I wrapped my legs around his hips, urging him to go deeper, gripping his hair tightly. James growled, tilting my face up and guiding his cock to my lips. I eagerly opened my mouth, taking him in, and he moaned softly. Dave kissed my neck, sucking on the tender skin, leaving even more bruises that sent shivers down my spine, but I didn't mind. In that moment, all I could focus on was the sensation of James and Dave, both of them, with me, together.

"Fuck," Dave whispered in my ear, his actions growing more fervent. "If I knew it felt this good to have you with an audience, I would've suggested it ages ago."

"If I knew you'd be into it, I would've brought it up sooner," I whispered back, stroking James' cock slowly with my hand and sighing when Dave started to massage my clit with his fingertips. I moaned, gripping him tightly, and he shut his eyes, thrusting into me with more vigor.

"You're almost there, aren't you?" Dave whispered, and I nodded, unable to form words. James gently brushed away the tears of ecstasy that welled in my eyes, his touch so tender it sent shivers down my spine. I took him back into my mouth, and he let out a soft groan, moving slowly as I continued to pleasure him.

I let out a long, satisfied moan, tightening around Dave as waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and breathless. Dave groaned, his face buried in my neck as he reached his own climax, his release flooding into me with a low grunt.

Taking a moment to catch my breath, I pulled James out of my mouth, my lips meeting Dave’s as he shifted beside me. He brushed the hair away from my face, planting gentle kisses along my neck and shoulders as I took James back in my mouth, meeting his gaze with a mixture of desire and satisfaction.

James tangled his fingers in my hair, guiding my movements as his hips rocked gently. His flushed face and parted lips revealed his arousal as I worked my tongue, eliciting soft sighs from him. Meanwhile, Dave's kisses grew more fervent, his hand trailing down to where my body was still slick with our fluids. His touch on my already overstimulated clit made me shiver, and I couldn't help but moan in response. James then bucked his hips forward with a moan, tightening his grip on my head, his release filling my mouth with a warmth that sent a thrill through me.

"Good girl," Dave murmured approvingly as James pulled away from my mouth, running a finger along my slightly swollen lips. I swallowed, feeling a rush of warmth and satisfaction. I turned to Dave, and he leaned in, planting slow kisses along my jawline. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment, but Dave gently cupped my face, urging me to look at him. "Don't shut your eyes, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "We're not done with you yet."

I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush and my heart beat faster as Dave shifted away and James pulled me onto his lap, my legs wrapping around his hips as I sensed him growing hard once more. Dave let out a sigh, positioning himself behind me, his hands firmly on my waist providing support as he nibbled on my earlobe. I closed my eyes, nestling my face into James' neck and wrapping my arms around it as Dave raised my hips, allowing James to enter me with deliberate slowness.

This was gonna be a long, long night.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope @ilovepapahet @decemberm0on

51 notes · View notes

dxmoness · 11 months

Text

FORBIDDEN | TWTPFLOB

[ AUTHOR NOTE ] This is just brain rot dw about it lmao

[ WARNINGS ] cheating, yandere doings, forced kissing, mentions of Fontaine forcing himself on reader

[ PRONOUNS ] she/her

[ CHARACTERS ] Dion Agriche

Y/N was Fontaine's newly wedded wife. As anyone could probably tell their lovelife was one sided whereas Fontaine was extremely in love with her and wanted to do anything with her while Y/N hated the thought of even being in bed with him.

Dion was Y/N's brother-in-law who for some reason was always there when she needed someone to cry to. Every single time.

In truth, what Y/N didn't know was that Dion was supposed to be her fiancé. Dion and not Fontaine but Lant Agriche had cared to notice the desperation of Fontaine's behavior towards the mere thought of marrying her so he agreed. Another reason was because Dion would be in more missions than Fontaine would ever be.

Now he stood, regretting every decision. He had been with Y/N today. Her smiles and genuine gestures made everything clear. She wanted him more than Fontaine. He didn't need to hear it from her, he could read expressions.

But today held a very traumatizing day for both of them. There was a gala held as a celebration for one year marriage between Fontaine and Y/N, in this they acted as if they were strangers mostly but there were times when he'd touch her inappropriately in front of others.

The feeling was uncomfortable and he didn't stop even when she asked him. He'd only guilt trip her into allowing him to resume his disgusting actions.

Dion wanted to murder him, right then and there he really did. He was infuriated and disgusted to even be labeled the same last name as that man. But this wasn't the worse that would occur tonight.

He was walking down the hall when he heard shrieking. Y/N.

It was as if something was making her feel pain, but he figured out it was a someone rather than a something just moments later.

Y/N had been running from Fontaine because he told her planned to do some things she couldn't even say or think about with feeling disgusted. Fontaine caught her though and pulled her to a forced kiss, this went on for ages until he forced himself completely onto her.

The next day she awoke, disgraced and in pain. She wanted to stay in here for long but her in-laws would wonder what had happened so she slipped off the bed. The moment she stood on firm ground, she collapsed on the floor, tears streaming down her face as she felt like she'd been destroyed.

Just as she had managed to dress and rush out, Dion appeared. His eyes filled with concern, then surprise, then hatred bubbled in him. "Y/N..." Dion started but she covered his mouth.

Shaking her head, she lets go of him pressing a finger on her lips. Dion didn't understand why she didn't want to call for help or check this out to the physician but he didn't contradict. Not when his darling was in pain like this. His hand rests on her head as he hesitantly pats her. He was new to giving affection and still was learning how to be the better man, learning for her.

But whether or not he knew to be affectionate, Y/N still appreciated his efforts. She was quiet but calm as he carried her back to the room, laying her on the bed.

"Tea?" He asks softly before she nods. "Okay." He rang for a maid and called for a cup of tea to be given to Y/N in her chambers. He stayed there a while, watching her making sure was alright. Like a good husband would, if only he was her husband.

When he was about to leave, Y/N grabs him. Her eyes seem to beg for him to stay before she even said the words. "Stay. Please?" She said, her voice said everything. She wanted his affection and needed his undivided attention.

He nods. "Okay." His voice was soft and held sincerity. Something he normally doesn't give off. He hugged her as they lay on the bed, in the comfort of each other's arms.

#• . breve · short fics!#dion agriche x reader #dion agriche #twtpflob #twtptflob x reader #the way to protect the female lead's older brother x reader #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #dion x reader

228 notes · View notes

scarletwinterxx · 30 days

Text

sit down with doyoung

helllooo and we're back with another sit down scenarioooo. glad you like this format i tried out😅 hope you like this oneee🤍🤍

If you want me to make more of this with the other members just let me know😅 or you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The scene starts with two vacant chairs in front of the camera. Then two people walk in, sitting right next to each other.

"Okay, welcome. Can you introduce yourselves please" someone from behind the camera says

"Hello! I'm Kim Y/N, and this is my husband Kim Dongyoung" you smile at the camera, gesturing to the man sitting beside you

"Just Doyoung, Hello everyone" Doyoung bows at the camera after greeting

: How long have you been married?

"Almost two years" you answer, "It will be our second anniversary next week, actually" Doyoung adds, smiling shyly.

He hears you giggle beside him, reaching over to hold his hand in yours before continuing with the interview

: Then how long have the two of you been together as a couple?

"4 years, we married kinda fast. But I knew I wanted to marry him so I asked him. I just couldn't wait" you joked, eliciting laughter from your audience

"I asked her, she asked me jokingly like she asked me one random night. At that point we've talked about it a few times. I kept thinking she was hinting something"

"You're saying that like I made you ask me" you pout at him, making Doyoung chuckle. Giving your hip a playful pinch

"I already had a ring for you. I thought you saw it that's why you kept mentioning it"

"Could've been a promise ring for all I know" you shrug

: How did the two of you meet?"

"His brother was my senior at work, Doyoung thought we were dating then we met at dinner one time. I was so awestruck of him the first time we met I got shy and didn't get to ask for his number" you tell the camera

Meanwhile Doyoung listens to you fondly with a smile on his face. The memory still fresh in his mind like it was yesterday

"I asked my brother if she was his girlfriend, when he said no I asked for her number. When I texted her asking her if she wanted to get coffee, she didn't reply to me" Doyoung adds, piquing the interest of the crew members

"I didn't reply for 3 days cause I got nervous and didn't know what to say. Then we saw each other again at the company when he picked his brother up. He thought I was avoiding him but really I was just shy"

: Then how did the two of you talked again?

This time Doyoung answered first, "My brother called her, offering her a ride home. But it was my car, I was the one driving. He even made some excuse about having an emergency meeting so in the end it was only me and her"

He can still remember that day, you were blushing so much he thought you were having a heat stroke from how red your face was. He blasted the AC in the car for you.

"We finally got coffee together before he drove me home" you said

: How did you know they were the one for you?

You play with the wedding band on Doyoung's fingers, thinking of the exact moment you knew

"I forgot my umbrella at home one time, he usually pick me up after work but that day we decided to meet at a different location. When I got there I was drenched head to toe. He scolded me so much, like all the way home. All while he was nagging, he was also taking care of me. Gave his jacket to me, then when we got to his place he immediately got a towel and made hot tea for me" you look at your husband's eyes, smiling fondly at him

"I knew I wanted that for the rest of my life"

He smiles at you, picking up your intertwined hands to kiss the back of yours before resting it back on your lap

"You know the funny thing is she didn't forget her umbrella. She gave it to me like a few days before. I dropped her off at her office and it was raining hard. She gave me her umbrella because she knows I like to buy my lunch at the store across the street from where I work" Doyoung remarks

"She's thoughtful like that, she gave her umbrella to me even though she didn't have anything to use. I knew I was going to love her for a long time and there was no way I was letting her go but she does do that a lot, make my headache and make me nag at her" he adds with a laugh

"Well I knew you were going to pick me up so" you reasoned out

: Where do you see yourself in 5 or 10 years?

"I don't really know, to be honest. I live each day as it is. I work hard everyday to be the man worthy for her. I want to be there for her, always give her the support, love and care she needs. I don't really need anything else as long as I'm with her" he says

"Me too, maybe someday we'll have kids. We've definitely talked about it. Maybe two, atleast. I love watching his relationship with his family, with his brother. I want that for our future kids too"

Doyoung watches you answer. It's like with every word you say he just falls even more inlove with you. Already it's like he's living a fairytale everyday when he's with you. Thinking about one day having kids with you, raising humans that is part you and him warms his heart even more.

: Okay, that's all. Thank you so much for sharing your time and your story with us, Mr. and Mrs. Kim. Anything else you want to say?

"When we come back for the next interview in the future, we'll bring our kids with us" you tell the camera with a big smile

"You sound so sure, honey. What if they invite us again next year?" Doyoung asks jokingly

"I mean we can make it work right?" you ask back, he knows you're messing with him. He's used to you joking with him all the time.

"We'll see you soon" he says to the camera with one final bow and you do the same

AND CUT

#tags #fic #request #nct reco #nct au #nct #nct imagine #nct fic #nct fluff #nct doyoung #doyoung fic #doyoung scenario #doyoung fluff #doyoung oneshot #nct 127

32 notes · View notes

nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

Text

The Queen’s Hand

(Part I: House Strong)

Summary: Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.

Prologue

“Where’s Rhaenyra?” Y/N asks, promptly out of breath, from the speed of her footsteps. The meeting had run over, pressing matters that could not wait. Up until this moment Y/N has never missed one of her sister’s labors. First in wait to hold the babe after Rhaenyra. By the looks of the empty room, Y/N may finally be too late.

“The Queen requested to see the baby, your grace. Princess Rhaenyra took him herself.”

“I have a nephew then?” A third.

“Indeed, Princess.” The lady in waiting bows her head with a tiny smile.

Y/N leaves without another word, there’s nothing in the realms Alicent could want or need at such a time, other than to bother.

Rhaenyra can hold her own, even after her labors. Y/N seeks out her husband instead.

“Ser Harwin!” Y/N calls from the courtyard balcony. Watching as her husband’s face softens at the sound of her voice.

“Princess,” he bows his head.

Y/N grins, “come.”

They’ve been here before. Twice before, to be exact, over the past decade. It was no real secret that Rhaenyra’s sons do no resemble their father. Their features more Strong than Velaryon. When it first erupted as a hushed whisper amongst the castle, Y/N was betrothed to Harwin Strong and married within two weeks.

A union born of duty. But through the years the two developed a deep love for each other. While Harwin will always adore Rhaenyra, sworn to protect her with the same devotion as his bride, and their children by proxy…he is not in love with her. Their time had passed.

Y/N and Harwin share three children of their own. Two daughters, Aemmia and Geniysa, followed by a single son Viserus.

This new child, Rhaenyra’s third, will be the first to share blood with Laenor. He would surely be the show of good faith their kingdom needs. Whatever agreement Rhaenyra had struck up with Laenor when they were betrothed still stands. They never begrudged each other happiness.

“Is it the babe?” Harwin asks, pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple.

Y/N nods, “Queen Alicent requested an audience the moment he was born.”

“Here I thought scaling the stairs immediately after birth was a torture reserved only for you.” Harwin quips, “no matter, her majesty will be pleased this time.”

“One would hope so.” Y/N looks down at her hands, “then again she is rarely pleased.”

Harwin taps her chin with the side of his index finger. “Stand tall, my love.”

“I have yet to meet my nephew. I hoped you might accompany me.” The princess changes the subject.

Her knight holds out his arm, “it would be an honor.”

“Do you ever tire of this?” Y/N wonders.

“It matters not.” It is his duty.

———————————🌱————————————

“Look, aunt Y/N!” Lucerys calls, reentering his family’s sitting chamber with a steaming black cauldron in his grasp.

“Oh, what’ve we here?” Y/N leans over the arm rest of the settee.

“It’s a dragon egg for the baby.” Jacaerys informs her. “Uncle took us down to the pit.”

“That was very nice of him.” Y/N smiles.

“It’s not every day a dragon gives birth to a clutch of eggs. Their brother deserves the fairest one.” Harwin insists.

“That he does.” Y/N agrees, “thank you for taking them. I’m sure their parents will appreciate such a grand gesture for the new prince.”

She is not upset, not in the least. Rather it warms her heart to think that despite their…untraditional family structures, perhaps they needn’t weave such a tangled web.

Just then the door opens. Rhaenyra and Laenor, with the baby in tow.

“Let me see him.” Y/N demands, rushing her sister. Still shimmering with a sheen of sweat.

“I thought you dead.” Laenor jests. “This is the longest I’ve been allowed to hold my own child before handing him off to you.”

‘Twas a laugh really. Laenor loves Y/N as his own sister, always has. But it was unusual for the eldest princess to miss such a moment with her sister.

“I do apologize for making you worry.” Y/N scoops the infant up in her arms. “There was a matter in the court I simply could not skirt.”

Harwin stands with a look of ever growing love as he watches her bounce and sway. Perhaps he might ask his wife for another babe. Just one more. “Does he have a name?”

“Joffrey,” Laenor tells him.

“What a fine name.” Y/N kisses her nephew’s tiny fist as it raises form the blanket.

“I hate to steal you away, but the Queen requests you next.”

“Me?” Y/N scoffs.

Rhaenyra clears her throat. “I’m sure we can manage in your absence for a little while.”

Y/N returns the baby to his father. “Perhaps Harwin will bring the children in to meet their cousin.”

“Later, Princess.” Laenor says, “they’re gathered down at the dragon pit. Ser Harwin might bring his nephews back there instead.

“I’m going with you,” Harwin protests.

“She did not ask for you.” Y/N points out, running a hand over the front of her dress.

“Mind yourself on the stairs.” Rhaenyra calls after her sister. “I bled on them.”

———————————🌱————————————

When Y/N doesn’t find the Queen in her rooms, she enters her father’s instead. Maybe she’d gotten lucky.

Viserys is seated at his model of old Valyria, grateful to have his eldest daughter join him.

“I’ve always been fond of this section.” It spoke to something in her. She would tend it almost daily in those first years after her mother’s death. Before it became someone else’s, a place where she felt unwelcome.

“Even as a girl,” the king smiles at his daughter. “Although you never could say why. Are you still unsure?”

“Y/N, a word.” Alicent’s voice cuts through the calm air.

“I thought you’d forgotten me, your grace.” Y/N remarks.

“An impossible task.” The Queen murmurs, “walk with me?”

“Looks like the rooftops will have to wait for their dusting.” Y/N nods to her father, as she rises from the table. Giving his shoulder a squeeze when she passes. The palm of his hand resting against the back of her own for just a moment.

“I will make sure they hold their post.” Viserys adores his daughters. But when it comes to matters between them and his wife, he finds it best not to insert himself.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Alicent begins, on their walk about her rooms.

“Lovely.” Y/N agrees, unsure where this is headed.

“I’ve seen the baby.”

“I heard.”

“He is different than his brothers.”

“How so?” Y/N asks, her pace keeping time with the Queen.

The brunette turns to look Y/N directly in the eyes. “Is there no line you will not cross to protect her? What of honor? Decency? If you do not speak up, her son will sit the throne instead of your own. Does that not bother you?”

“Is it my son you’re worried about?” Y/N blinks, “house Strong is noble and well beloved, my son will have a seat there. That is more than enough.”

“You know that isn’t what I meant.”

“Then speak it plainly, your grace. I want nothing more than to ease your mind.”

“Jacaerys and Lucerys,” Alicent tries a second time. “The new babe has hair white as snow. They do not. They bear a closer resemblance to your own children with Ser Harwin.”

Y/N draws in a breath, “my father had a black mare once.”

If looks could kill the princess would be dead and gone. Alicent’s mouth slightly ajar.

“She fled the fence, when he found her again, it was with a neighboring stallion. Silver as the moon. The foal was born chestnut. Nature is amazing that way.”

“We may speak of chestnut foals forever, turning a blind eye to what is so clearly in front of you will not make it go away.”

Y/N lowers her voice. “I do not know why you insist on pressing this matter, my Queen. The implications of what you’ve said threaten the very lives of those I hold most dear. I beg you, leave it rest. I have told you all I know.”

“Do you know what kept me?” Alicent lifts her chin indignantly.

“You are surely busy.”

“Ser Harwin attempted to beat his fellow knight, Ser Criston, to a pulp.”

Y/N’s father hadn’t said a word.

“Awful,” Y/N lowers her gaze. “But my husband is not a violent man, he would do no such thing without reason. So I must ask, what happened?”

“The princes were training with Ser Criston. Sparring in the court yard. It seems your husband did not appreciate the match up made by the other knight.”

“What was the pairing?”

Alicent gawks at her.

“The match up,” Y/N insists she answer. “Who was it.”

“Prince Aegon and Prince Jacaerys.”

“Seems an odd choice. Jace is better suited to spar my Viserus than your eldest son, wouldn’t you say? Or even Aemond.”

“I’m sure Ser Criston had his reasons.”

“Oh, I do not doubt that, your grace.” Y/N spits back. “Even so, my husband is not likely to attack over a bit of training. So may I ask what else happened?” Or rather, what really happened.

“From what I understand…Ser Criston made a remark about your husband’s devotion to Prince Jacaerys. Stating it was better suited to a son than a nephew.”

Y/N cocks her head to the side. “Why wouldn’t Ser Harwin be concerned when his kin is treated unfairly? Rhaenyra is my sister, we are a family. If my husband simply stood idle while one of the children was treated unfairly, it would be me beating him. What you have spoken today is treacherous, but it stays between us. It would upset my father so, if he were to catch wind.”

Viserys had forbade Alicent to speak of it on more than one occasion.

“If there’s nothing more, I would like to get back to my father.”

Alicent’s gaze cuts like a dagger. “That is all.”

———————————🌱————————————

That night, after Y/N has put her children to bed, she collapses onto the mattress fully clothed. The day has drained her, Alicent especially.

The door opens and the familiar clanking of armor fills the room. “Long day?”

Y/N lulls her head to the side. “Could’ve been worse.”

“Was the Queen very hard on you?”

“Same as before, nothing’s changed.”

“Might I help you out of your gown? I can’t imagine it’s comfortable to sleep in.”

“You only wish to have your way with me, Ser Harwin.” Y/N sighs, feigning exasperation.

“Perhaps I only wish you comfortable, Princess.” Harwin smiles, lying down the last of his gear.

“Very well.” Y/N sits up with a grunt. Forcing herself to stand, facing the bed post. Pulling her hair over one shoulder to allow her husband access to the closure of her dress.

“I would like to apologize, my love.” The knight says, beginning to unlace the back.

“You’ve nothing to apologize for.”

“My affairs have brought shame upon your name…again.”

“You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Y/N repeats.

“I have made a spectacle of our family. Attacked Cole-”

“Cole is a pompous arse who surely deserved it.”

“You should not have to make excuses for my indiscretions. This shame is not yours to bear.”

“There’s been nothing shameful.” Y/N turns to face him, cupping his cheek with her hand. “You’ve done naught but honor me, bring comfort to my life. Became the person I confide in and-“

“The person who loves you.” Harwin murmurs, “all of those things mean little, if you know not of my love for you. Devotion to you runs deep in my bones and that for our children. I care for Rhaenyra, that will always be true. But you are the one I love. The one I swore vows to.”

“I know that you love me, Harwin. I’ve never questioned it. Whatever happened before is no matter to me.”

“It matters to me.” Harwin says, “I would do it differently, if I could. Spare you, Rhaenyra, and those boys.”

“You of all people know I would do more for my sister, and worse. But also for you. We cannot go back, only look forward.”

“I wish to take you away from all this. Give you peace, a castle of your own. I realize that Lord and Lady Strong does not hold a candle to Princess and Prince consort of King’s Landing but we would be happy there. I swear it.”

“I would be happy, it matters not of the title.” Y/N agrees. “The freedom alone…” it’s more than she dare imagine. “But you know as well as I- I cannot abandon my post here. I cannot leave her to the vultures. She is my sister.”

Harwin presses his lips to Y/N’s forehead. “We’ve options. That’s all I meant to say. You are not a prisoner to the crown nor this castle.”

Yes. She is.

Part II

812 notes · View notes