#they were merely trying to give them the love of a mother and also a father which lead to them overloving them

[hyunsvngs]

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! - stepdad!bang chan x fem!reader

wc: 10.2k

cw: chan is your mother's boyfriend and you want to fuck him, chan is 30 and reader is described to be younger & in college, lix is a menace, changbin is a moral compass, you do not care about morals, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you're home for the holidays, and your mother - who you can't stand - has a new, young, hot boyfriend. it's such a good idea trying to seduce him.. right?

a/n: it's so here <3 my first commission! i hope u all love it <3 smut warnings under the cut ofc. i also tried a new format with this fic so pls let me know what u think?!?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dirty talk, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, cumplay if u squint?, humiliation if u squint?, anal fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), edging maybe briefly, sex with feelings

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You hated going home for the holidays.

You were a rich kid, to put it simply. Your mother loved to leech off the men that she was with, marrying them quickly and trying to suck as much money as she could out of them in gifts and straight up cash before they eventually clued on and left her. It had been why your father had left when you were a mere infant, but you’d always lived in luxury due to the incessant payments that he was forced to give. You’d never met him, but there was a plus side - he was paying your college tuition, where you met your best friends.

Perhaps if you thought about it a bit more you’d realise that the only reason you went to college was to get away from your mother. She pissed you off, sauntering around the house in silk kimonos with a maid trailing behind her, pausing to look in mirrors so that she could choose where her next round of botox would hit. She frustrated you beyond belief, but you still had to go home for Christmas. Annoyingly early, too, because she had a surprise for you.

Okay, well, it wasn’t a surprise. She’d FaceTimed you a week earlier, an irritatingly wrinkle-free face popping up on the screen as she sipped mulled wine and revelled in your absence. She had a new boyfriend, she said. You’d love him, she said. Your opinion matters most to me, she said. The last one you knew to be a lie. God, you hated her. 

Still, you lugged your suitcase through the front door and huffed, booting the side with your foot to try and shake some of the snow off. No surprise, she hadn’t helped you in from your taxi. She hadn’t even come to get you from the airport a mere twenty minute drive away. You dropped the suitcase on the floor, giving it another kick just for good measure, and then you were trudging into the kitchen. You’d heard voices from there, so it had to be them.

“Oh, honey!” Your mother chirped upon seeing you. You couldn’t see the face of the man washing dishes behind her, his white shirt sleeves rolled up and back facing you. You didn’t care anyway. “You made it home safe, then.”

“Yeah. The taxi driver was super nice and let me call him mum,” You quipped. She furrowed her eyebrows, lips pursed. 

“Okay, you’re being weird already,” She mumbled, and then shook her head, shrugging it off. She walked to the man by the sink, spinning him around by his slender waist to display him to you. “This is Chan!”

You felt silly, stood in the kitchen doorway in oversized clothes and covered in ivory snow. The man’s eyes found you, shocked by your mother’s harsh manoeuvring, and he blinked with surprise at your figure. You blinked with surprise, too.

Chan was hot. Incredibly so, actually, and he looked young. Younger than your mother, with a big nose you wanted to ride and plush lips parting as he raised one hand to wave at you, still wet with soapy dishwasher. You wanted to lick him clean. The white shirt he wore stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were fit to burst around incredibly toned biceps. You allowed your gaze to wander down, eyes focusing on the thick thighs in the black dress trousers he wore. 

There was no way this was real. “Okay,” You burst out laughing, eyes darting between Chan and your mother. “And, who is Chan? A friend? A colleague? He’s not your boyfriend.”

Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, I am. I’m your mother’s boyfriend, sweetheart.”

His voice was deep - too deep, deep enough to haunt your dreams and those late night sessions you had in your bed with your trusty vibrator. This was going to be trouble. You were going to be trouble.

“You’re shitting me,” You couldn’t get the amused smile off of your face. No fucking way. Your mother hadn’t bagged that. “You’re fucking with me. You have to be. Mum, he’s closer to my age than he is to yours.”

“I’m thirty, actually,” He mumbled, looking sheepish. Your mother stared at you in shock, jaw dropped at your brazenness. 

“I rest my case,” You concluded, nodding decisively. When the two of them just continued to stare, you bristled slightly, starting to hop from one foot to the other. Awkward. “You… are you actually together?”

“Yes, honey,” Your mother confirmed, still looking shocked. You scoffed.

“Okay, I really need to go, actually,” You gushed, turning around to leave the kitchen. “I’m- I’m going to my room. Really nice to meet you, Chan, really.” 

Shooting upstairs, you completely ignored your suitcase still leaking snow all over the hardwood floors and darted into your bedroom. It still looked exactly how you’d left it, band posters all over the walls and teddies littering the end of your bed. You threw yourself on top of the mattress, fingers yanking your phone out of your pocket and clicking the button on the most recent group call on FaceTime. Immediately, your college best friends picked up.

“There’s already a problem?” Felix scrunched his nose up, face way too close to the camera. Changbin was on the other side, face looking confused in the little square designated to him on your phone screen.

“I just met my mother’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, right, how did that go?” Changbin questioned, tilting his head to the side. You caught sight of your face in your own little square, flushed and appalled.

“He is thirty years of age, Changbin,” You began. Felix gasped, tiny hand moving to cover his mouth. “He is thirty years of age, and he is really fucking hot.”

“Oh my god,” Felix mumbled, muffled behind his hand. “Oh my god, you have to fuck him.”

Changbin choked on air. “She has to- No, Felix, no!”

“No, I can’t do that. It would be fucked up,” You mused. Or.. “Wait, would it even be that fucked up? He is closer to my age. I hate my mother.”

Felix’s hand fell, and he giggled before speaking in his trademark goblin voice - “Fuck him.”

“Don’t!” Changbin shrieked, his phone shaking in his hand. “I really think this is a bad idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Felix grinned, looking smug. “I’d do it.”

“There’s not a lot you wouldn’t do,” Changbin retorted. Felix stuck his tongue out at him. You, however, were silent, musing on the situation and staring at your wall. Could you do it? Changbin noticed, sighing. “Baby, please no.”

You licked your lips, nodding. You could do it. You wanted to do it - needed it, even. Those biceps were going to plague your life forever otherwise. “Operation fuck my mother’s boyfriend is a go.”

Felix screamed in delight. Changbin ended the call.

SATURDAY

It was time. Your mother was out at brunch with some friends, and you had plans to invade Chan’s personal space because you had a feeling he’d be too polite to tell you otherwise. You knew he’d set up the spare room as his own home studio, because your mother had delighted in telling you how Chan was a super successful music producer and was often tinkering away in there these days. You were going to let yourself in, try to get to know him a bit.

The knock you landed on the door was anything but subtle. Your fist rapped on the door and you heard a little hum in response, so you swung open the door, eyes landing on Chan hunched over his desk. He looked even younger like this, beanie pulled down over dark curls and headphones positioned on his head. He continued to stare at the file on his computer, head bobbing absentmindedly, so you strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around on his computer chair, blinking confusedly at you. “Oh, hello.”

“Hi,” You beamed. “Sorry about last night. I was rude. I was feeling kinda weird, y’know, with the travelling.”

“No, I completely get it,” Chan put his hands up as if to diffuse the atmosphere. You nodded, still smiling. Chan stared at you when you didn’t respond instantly, and you crossed your hands behind your back, pressing against the plaid pattern of the dress you’d chosen for today. It was all part of the plan - the tight, short dress was perfect for seduction. He looked down at your chest, before clearing his throat, reverting his gaze to your eyes. “Um… did you need something, by the way?”

You gasped, as if remembering. “Oh, yeah! I did. My mother told me you were a music producer, and I was really curious. I was wondering if you’d show me some stuff…?”

It was Chan’s turn to smile, nodding excitedly. “Of course. Here, put these on.”

He linked two fingers around his headphones and handed them to you, to which you obediently put them over your ears. He was quieter now, but you could still slightly hear him mumbling as he found a spare chair for you to sit on. Your eyes scanned the files, eventually fixating on a file titled Drive. That one had to be dirty.

“Okay, so. I have this one, it’s my most recent one, and-”

“I want to listen to that one,” You cut him off, pointing at the song. When you turned to look at him, he was biting his lip nervously, pink tinting the ends of his ears and his cheeks. “What is it, Chan?”

“You- that one is a little, uh… heh. A little inappropriate.”

Unsurprisingly, you darted over his desk to grab the computer mouse and double click on the file. Chan squealed, but you ignored him, listening to the song. You were right. It was dirty, the two singers crooning about something that was a thinly-veiled innuendo about driving. It took you a second and then you clicked. One of them was Chan. This was Chan singing, on a song about sex. God, could he get any hotter?

You slid one of the ear cups off of your ear, turning to Chan with a shit eating grin. “This is you singing? You’re really good, Chan.” You weren’t lying. He was really good, and it had you wondering why he was a producer and not singing.

“Yeah, well, it was just an experimental track. Me and my mate were just messing around,” Chan mumbled shyly, hand scratching the back of his neck. You tried to avoid staring at the way his biceps tensed in his tight t-shirt at the movement. He was still blushing, but you had to kick it up a notch.

“It is kinda inappropriate, though, isn’t it?” You chirped excitedly. Chan’s lips parted, as if he was looking for something to say. His eyes stared into your own, piercing and dark and all-consuming. “I think you’re a little dirty, Channie.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed at your use of the nickname. “That’s- you can’t say that. That’s inappropriate.”

“What?” You feigned shock-horror. Play dumb. “I can’t call you Channie? Why not?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Chan groaned, pointing an accusing finger at you. You giggled anyway, jumping up and slipping the headphones back onto his head. You made sure to trail your fingertips down his neck after doing so. He shivered noticeably. You smiled.

“That was super good, Channie, thank you.”

You didn’t miss his groan of disbelief as you bounded out of the room. You had him, and it was easier than you’d expected it to be.

SUNDAY

Something was happening. You weren’t sure what, just yet, but something was happening. Chan was acting a little weird after what happened the day before, and you’d already caught Felix and Changbin up on the nonsense plan you had. 

“I think you need to accept that this is just down to you having a fat crush on him and severe daddy issues,” Changbin mused, and you gasped. He was right though. This wasn’t completely about getting back at your mother in a sick, twisted way. You wanted him.

Phase two of your plan was underway as soon as you caught sight of him on the sofa. He was watching some cheesy Christmas movie, your mother tinkering away in the kitchen - when had she ever cooked? - so it was prime seducing time. He had one of the thick throw blankets over his lap, fingers playing with the fluffy fabric absentmindedly. You hopped into the living room in your short pyjamas, frowning at Chan when you felt the goosebumps on your legs.

“Whatcha watching?” You asked, making him jump when he realised your presence. He smiled nonetheless, motioning to the seat next to him, and you took it. You perched and ensured that you left no room between you both.

“Some cheesy film. The woman’s marrying a prince, I think.”

“Sounds awful. I can’t wait to watch it,” You smiled, and Chan chuckled, relaxing on the sofa. You managed to make it five whole minutes before you were rubbing your hands up your legs, trying to create a semblance of warmth. 

Chan turned to you, frowning. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” You whined, pulling your legs up into your chest. “‘S cold in here, right?”

“C’mere,” He mumbled, reaching for the end of the blanket and throwing it over your lap. You hummed contentedly, inching a little closer under the guise of the cold weather. The blanket was warm. You were kind of jealous he’d been in such comfort this whole time while you’d been thinking of ways to get his cock inside your mouth. 

“Thanks, Channie,” Chan only nodded, continuing to watch the film. You had a feeling he was pretending to be so focused on it, given you weren’t sure he even knew the plot before your arrival. 

You squirmed on your seat, thrashing each way until you found yourself comfortable, hand splayed over Chan’s knee. He tensed under your touch. 

“You’re touching me, sweetheart,” He warned, his voice low and deep. You shivered, turning to him.

“Am I?”

“You are. You’re touching my leg underneath the blanket, aren’t you?”

You hummed. “Is that okay, Chan?”

Chan turned to you, his eyes not even holding any sign of shock. He knew what game you were playing, you realised, and maybe he was playing along. He licked his lips, head back against the sofa, and then he shrugged dismissively. 

“It doesn’t bother me.”

You left your hand there for the whole film. 

MONDAY

The showers at home were something you’d missed. The ones in college didn’t quite cut it - not even now that you lived with Changbin and Felix in your own student home. All three of you were young adults, after all, and that came with you being a little too messy.

At home, you didn’t have to worry about mess. Your mother had cleaners employed with your dad’s money anyway. Admittedly, you realised you were being a little spoiled, so you’d learned to clean up after yourself. The showers were still better, though. Bigger, and the water pressure hit you just right. 

Especially when you detached the shower head and pressed it to your clit. You felt pathetic. You’d only tried to seduce Chan for two fucking days, and there you were, legs shaking at the thought of him. Maybe it was the chase that got you feeling hot, or maybe it was the fact that you might actually be getting somewhere - you might actually be getting close to fucking him, muscles bulging as he ploughed into you. 

It had you pressing the shower head harder, your spare hand coming up to pinch your nipple. You whined, bucking your hips into the water stream. The steam was all over the bathroom by now, staining the shower with condensation and making your skin feel pruned and flushed. Or did you feel flushed from the thoughts of Chan? Maybe he’d fuck you the way you liked. He must have experience, you assumed, being a few years older than you. You thought about how he’d make you feel, how he’d touch you, and how you’d feel in his arms. You thought about how you’d feel when you came, and what it would be like to be with him. You wanted to feel him so badly.

Was he as big down there as he was everywhere else? Sure, he’s not too tall, but he’s every part a man. That much was clear. Would he bend you in half, pushing you into a mating press and fuck you raw the way you liked, cumming inside and letting you call him daddy and-

You wailed, legs trembling with one last buckle before you were cumming. You felt wet, too wet even just from the shower, and you belatedly realised you’d have to wash again. Ugh. This plan needed to end, like… yesterday. 

Coming out of the shower freshly washed, you wrapped a towel around your figure and checked the time on your phone. Your thumb slipped around the screen from the condensation in the bathroom, but the plan was going well. If you left the bathroom now, then hopefully Chan would be heading to bed, and he’d catch you in your towel. Ideally, he’d be so hot for you that he’d just have to have you, and then you could get the thoughts of him out of your head.

You burst out of the room in a flurry of steam and movement, almost tripping over your own feet when you noticed that it had actually fucking worked. Chan stood stock still at the other end of the hallway, his eyes fixated on the way the towel wrapped tightly around your chest, at risk of falling. You smiled, waving innocently, and he stalked towards you. He was seeing red. You could tell from the way he cornered you, crowding around you with the small advantage he had on your height.

“You need to stop this,” He mumbled, eyes looking at your mother’s bedroom door. He was playing a dangerous game. You were, too, and you both knew it. “I’m dating your mother. You need to stop this, sweetheart.”

“Stop what?” You tilted your head, acting confused. “I just had a shower.”

Chan scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking heard you in there.”

Oh. You couldn’t hide your smirk that time. “Yeah, I missed that shower head. Why were you perving on me, Chan?”

Chan rubbed his temples. He wasn’t wearing a beanie today, only a hoodie and baggy joggers. You liked it. You could see his hair like this, dark and curly and frizzy on his head. He looked cute. Wait, what?

He took a deep breath. His eyes moved to fixate on you, tongue running over his teeth. “Why would I be perving on you?”

“Oh, don’t lie,” You crossed your arms over your chest. Chan’s eyes moved down to stare at where your tits bulged over the towel. “I bet you stood there for ages, cock hard in your cute joggers, listening to me moan in the shower. That’s a little fucked up, no? Thinking about your girlfriend’s daughter like that-”

You were cut off by him pushing you to the wall, lips slamming into yours. He bit into your mouth instantly, letting out a deep groan and hands moving to grab your ass through the towel. You let your lips part in a whimper, pushing your tongue into his mouth and running your hands through his hair. It was a filthy exchange of tongue and teeth, and by the end of it, you were gasping, grabbing him by the waist and trying to pull him closer. You pulled away, breathing heavily and your eyes still locked on each other. You both stood there, not speaking, as you both processed what you had just done. You both knew it was wrong, but you wanted it so bad.

Chan stepped back, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You watched in shock as he turned around, walking into your mother’s bedroom and leaving you there. You were wet again. This was getting ridiculous now. 

In your room, Felix screamed so loud you had to turn the volume down on your phone. Changbin choked on air again. 

TUESDAY

You hadn’t seen Chan all day. You presumed he was in his studio, working away on another track while your mother was in work. You were bored. Felix had been spending time with his family, and Changbin was out doing rich kid things that you could sympathise with. Thrashing around on your bed, annoyed and huffing, you decided you were just going to go and annoy Chan. It was your newly favourite pastime to get under his skin.

Stalking down the stairs to his studio, you paused when you heard a voice. Not just one voice, two voices. Was your mother there? No, no way. She never goes into that room, it’s his work room. You’d been in there though. You tried to suppress a grin at that realisation. 

The other voice was a man’s. Chan had a call on speakerphone, judging by the tinny effect covering the unknown male’s voice and Chan humming every so often. Who was the other man? A colleague, or just a friend?

“It’s fucking ridiculous, mate,” Chan groaned. You could barely hear him, and you held your breath, coming closer to the closed door. “I want her so bad, and it’s so wrong. I- I kissed her last night, Minho.”

There were a few yells from the other end of the phone. “You kissed her?! Chan, you fucking animal. You want her so bad, just fuck her. She’s clearly hoping that’s the outcome here.”

You grinned. You were.

“She’s- it’s outrageous. She walks around in practically nothing, and she’s got such a tight fucking body, man. She makes my dick so fucking hard, I’ve never felt anything like it before. Even when I met her, in the kitchen, she was-”

Chan cut himself off with a sigh. ‘Minho’ hummed, waiting for him to continue.

“She’s so bratty. She’s exactly the type of girl I would’ve gone for, before I met her mother.”

“Seriously?” Minho questioned, and Chan agreed. “You have to do it.”

“Minho-”

“No, Chan. I’m serious,” Minho’s voice was firm. “If she’s fucking you up this bad, you can’t have liked her mother that much, yeah? Just do it. You know it’s going to happen anyway.”

“It’s-” Chan began. You could imagine him rubbing his temples in distress behind the door. “She’s younger than me. I don’t want her to feel as though I’m taking advantage, y’know? The ball’s in her court.”

The ball has always been in your court.

“It sounds like she wants you to take advantage, to be honest,” Minho erupted in a fit of giggles, and you found yourself almost laughing along. Minho was annoyingly right. You only hoped he could get rid of that stick up Chan’s ass and get you a good dicking down.

It meant it was time for the next phase of your plan. You assumed Chan had wanted you, embarrassingly so, but you weren’t quite sure until he’d kissed you the day before. After hearing this conversation? Well, you had to do it.

You returned to your room, scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper. If Chan found this, which he would, it meant that he’d come to your room tomorrow night and you could maybe talk about what the fuck was going on. The sexual tension was too much for you, and now you knew he felt the same. Why were you beating around the bush? You had to make something out of this.

You ignored the stuttering of breath you heard when you slid the note under his door, and returned back to your room with a cocky grin.

WEDNESDAY

Chan hadn’t mentioned the note. You didn’t think he would, but you felt disappointed nonetheless. You’d woken up in the morning, eaten breakfast with him and your mother - cringing when he kissed her on the cheek when she left for work - and you’d even done the dishes yourself, letting him slip off to do some work in the studio. It was prime time for him to mention what you’d written, and he hadn’t. It was pissing you off.

Still, good things come to those who wait. You were confident. Felix had been egging you on all day over text, Changbin had been sending random upset emojis. It was perfect. 

Settling on your sheets at night, you felt a little pathetic. You’d lit a few candles, left the curtains just right on the window so that the moonlight billowed in, and Chan hadn’t arrived. Maybe he hadn’t received your note. No, there was no way - you practically heard his response through the door when he saw it slid under. He got the note. Perhaps you’d made him uncomfortable, made him withdraw from you despite all the progress you’d made. Why had you put in so much effort? You didn’t like him, not like that. Or did you? You felt ridiculous, almost like a child waiting for-

A knock on the door brought you out of your self-loathing thoughts, and you jumped up, swinging the bedroom door open. Chan immediately crowded inside of your bedroom, pressing the door shut softly. You stood there in silence, taking him in. He looked cosy, in a baggy hoodie and plaid pyjama bottoms. It was hard to believe he was dating your mother, especially when he looked so vulnerable like this - dark, curly hair still slightly wet from his shower, and his eyes blown wide with an unreadable emotion while he looked at you.

Chan sighed. “You’re really playing with fire. Do you know how this could look, me coming into your room at night? Do you know how wrong this is?”

You faltered. For the first time since meeting Chan, you felt as though he was angry at you. “I- I heard you on the phone, Channie. I thought you wanted me too.”

You watched in awe as Chan crossed your bedroom, groaning and throwing himself onto the bed. He was hard, erect in his bottoms. You blinked confusedly. He was hard just from being in here?

“I do want you,” Chan said, but it was muffled, hidden behind his hands that he had placed over his face in distress. He let them fall to his sides, staring up at the ceiling. “I want you so bad that it’s pissing me off beyond belief. I know what you’ve been doing too, trying to seduce me. It’s so pathetic it makes me feel hot, y’know?”

You giggled, following his journey across the room and settling next to him on the bed. You sat cross legged, comfortable in your long pyjamas. The candlelight flickered, casting a glow over his face, and he turned to look at you. He licked his lips, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“This is ridiculous-”

“It’s ridiculous that you haven’t fucked me yet,” You responded, quick as a flash. Chan leaned up on his forearms, raising an eyebrow at you. Now was the time. You had to say it. “You know how bad I want you. I touched you up on the sofa, and you let me. You wanted me to, I think. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but-”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, and you’re not wrong,” Chan admitted. You could see the blush on his cheeks despite the dimly lit room.  He took a deep breath before continuing. “I want you, too.” 

Chan shot across the bed, leaning in and kissing you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. It made you wet beyond belief that he just felt like he knew what he was doing, hands travelling down to your waist to softly press you into the sheets. His tongue swept into your mouth, pressing against yours and you whimpered, making him groan into the kiss. When his hands went up to your hair, he intertwined his fingers in the strands and pulled, making you gasp and let out a heady, hot breath. He pulled away, lips parted when he stared at you. 

“You are such a horny little thing, it’s so hot,” He mumbled, lips pressing to your neck. He bit your skin sharply, making you keen and spread your legs, allowing him to position his hips between your thighs. The movement pressed his bulge into your core, and you tried not to shift and move your hips in a rhythm of pleasure. His fingers traced over your skin, and he chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made your heart race. He pulled back, leaning back on his legs and staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

You paused. “What?”

“I want to know what you like. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow night. How’s that sound?” He was propositioning you, teasing you, and you were falling for it - hook, line and sinker. 

You gave him a nod. Right. Touching yourself for him - that was something you could do. This was just another Wednesday for you, you loved putting on a show, especially for a man who was rock hard and obviously desperate for you. But with Chan… why did you feel so fucking nervous all of a sudden? You'd spent your whole day waiting to fuck him, and he’d taken back the power, thrown a wrench into your plans.

You leaned back on your bed. How did you sit sexily? You were stuck in your own head.

Chan moved backwards, hand moving over his clothed erection. He’d spread his legs, thick thighs parted for you to see the promising bulge between them. "Pretend I'm not even here, sweetheart," he said, eyes blown wide with lust. You almost rolled your eyes. Easier said than done, when he was sitting there with his dark curls and his thick, kissable lips and his impossibly huge bulge. “Touch yourself like you’ve done before. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow, I promise.”

Fuck it. You'd never let an attractive man break you down yet, and that wasn't going to change. You nodded timidly, hands moving to grip your breasts through your shirt. It made you sigh, and Chan responded with a noise of his own when you impatiently rucked the fabric up to above your chest. Sucking two fingers into your mouth, you whined when you traced the wet digits around your pebbled peak teasingly. 

“Ah, ‘s- I’m sensitive there, Channie,” You mumbled, and he nodded as if he was making a note for it for later. You trailed your fingertips across your nipples, pinching and twisting them almost painfully just to make your hips cant up into thin air. You were too impatient to do this how you normally would, so you scratched your fingernails down your tummy and shoved a hand in your pyjama bottoms. You were met with slick, wet folds, fingers sliding around in the mess you made. 

“Show me,” Chan said, eyes trained on where your hand disappeared beneath the fabric. “Show me that pussy. You’re meant to be showing me everything, remember?”

“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” You huffed, and Chan shook his head in disbelief, grinning. You were shocked to see he actually listened, though, pushing his joggers down to his thighs and letting his erection spring out. It was impossibly hard, pearlescent drops accumulating on his cockhead and you licked your lips subconsciously. “I wanna-”

“No,” Chan cut you off, hand moving to wrap around his cock in a tight fist. He was long, thick and heavy between his thighs and you felt your pussy clench sadly around nothing. “Show me your pussy. I’m not asking again, let me take a look at it.”

You whined, pushing your pyjama bottoms down to reveal your slick core. Your clit was swollen, throbbing with need just from a few kisses and Chan’s general presence, and you could feel a rivulet of wetness sliding down between your lips. Chan groaned in approval, hand quickening on his cock just slightly.

“Spread it, show me your hole,” Chan said, and you moved your thighs further apart for him. Reaching down with two fingers, you moved them into a v-shape and spread your folds for him. Your hole quivered under the inspection, leaking more wetness and Chan’s eyes were hyper fixated on it. “Oh, baby. That looks tight. Has no one ever fucked that little pussy right, huh? Tell me.”

“N-No,” You shook your head, thighs quivering when you finally let two fingers rub over your clit. You started with a blistering pace immediately, making your toes curl into the sheets and your back arch upwards. “No, I- it’s only boys from college, I don’t-”

“Ah, I see. You need someone older, yeah? More experienced?” Chan questioned, his breath coming out heavy with every tightly fisted movement on his cock. You whined, nodding, and then you were breaching your hole with two fingers immediately. The stretch made you groan, head falling back against the pillow. “Is that why you tried to seduce me, yeah? Wanted to have my cock stretching you out just right, wanted to call me daddy while I made you cry?”

God, he’d got it. He was right on the mark. “Yes, y-yes, I- I wanted to, oh, I wanted to call you daddy, and- and feel you inside me, and oh, Channie, please-” You cut yourself off with a moan, perhaps too loud as you curled your fingertips up against your g-spot. Chan threw his head back, letting out a grunt as he pinched his cockhead almost painfully. 

“Say it then, baby. What’s stopping you?” He polished the head of his cock, moaning before he took it into his tight grip again. His precum served as lubrication, his hand now making wet slick sounds on his thick length. You gasped when he moved his free hand to his balls, rubbing calloused fingertips over them and letting out his own gasp. “Beg me for my cock. I know you want it, look at you. Fuckin’ desperate, yeah? Beg daddy for his big cock.”

“Oh, daddy,” You whined, moving your free hand to rub over your clit. Everything was so wet, sliding around your pussy and you were honestly surprised you could feel anything - but it felt so fucking good, having him watch you like this, learning what you liked so he could replicate it. “Fuckin’- daddy, daddy, please, can I have it? Been good, doin’ what you asked, I- hnnng, daddy, oh my god-”

“No,” He smiled, a cocky grin while he rubbed one hand over his cock and the other over his heavy balls. “No, baby. Not tonight. Make yourself cum tonight, and daddy will help you tomorrow.”

“I- need more, need more, I-'' Chan surged over the bed, leaning over your figure to press his lips against yours. His tongue dominated your mouth again, and you could feel his closed fist hitting your stomach as he worked himself to his orgasm. The sensation had you whining against his plush lips, fingers thrusting quicker into your pussy and your other hand sliding around your clit messily. When he pulled away, lips digging into your bottom lip teasingly, his lips were quick to move to your neck to suck some dark purple marks into the skin. You felt yourself trembling, your body tense as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your fingers stroked your walls faster, pussy fluttering around your digits in delight, and your mouth opened in a gasp as you felt your body tense and tremble with pleasure. “I’m g’na- g’na cum, gonna cum, please, can I? Can I, daddy? Can I cum for you, please?”

“Yeah, baby,” He huffed, eyes rolling back into his head. He was practically drooling onto your skin, lips parted against your neck as you whined and thrashed on your bedsheets. “Cum for me. Been good for daddy, haven’t you? You can cum, baby, c’mon. Show me how pretty you are when you cum.”

You fell apart around your own fingers, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your thighs tensed with your orgasm, your pussy clenching down impossibly tighter around your hand and flooding down to your knuckles with your cum. You begged and pleaded, your voice a barely audible babble as your body shook with the sensation. 

Finally, when you’d just felt like you were coming down, Chan pulled your wrist away from your pussy. The movement left you empty, your walls still clenching down except now it was around nothing, and you whined, bottom lip quivering in need. 

“Hands off,” He sighed, hand slowing down on his cock. He was trying to last longer for something - you weren’t sure what, but you let your other hand drop from your clit obediently. “Daddy’s gonna cum on this wet little hole, baby, okay? You gonna let me cum here, mark you as mine?”

“Yes,” You moaned, nodding. You couldn’t think of anything better, actually. “‘M yours, I’m yours, daddy, gimme.”

“Dirty thing, perfect little girl,” He grunted, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your hole. With a few more movements, increasing in speed, you watched as his face screwed up in pleasure. His hips bucked, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt his cum drip down your hole as he groaned through his orgasm, thick white cum plastering your pussy. It was definitely the sexiest thing you’d experienced, but you still felt a little disappointed - why couldn’t he have just done it inside you?

“Wan’it,” You whined, pulling your legs back. Chan chuckled upon seeing the pout on your lips. “Why couldn’t you- in me, wanted it in me, daddy.” 

“Greedy bitch,” He mused, and then he was delving down to your core. Your mind went blank when his tongue licked fat stripes up your folds, collecting all of his cum and your wetness in his mouth. You briefly thought you could cum from this, very quickly judging by the way he knew what he was doing, but he simply leaned over you and grabbed your jaw. 

Oh. You let your lips part, tongue lolling out of your mouth obediently, and he spat the mixture of your cum into your mouth. You felt him lick into your mouth again, groaning at the taste of your pussy and his load. He smiled against your lips and pulled away, your eyes wide as you tried to process what had just happened. 

Chan’s lips curved in satisfaction at your state, your chest still heaving with a blotchy rash that bore the truth of what you’d been up to. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and then he was standing up and leaving the room, bottoms barely pulled over his hips. You laid there, feeling an intense mix of pleasure and confusion.

What the fuck just happened?

THURSDAY

You hadn’t even processed what had happened last night. In all honesty, you’d run out of the house in the morning under the premise of a coffee date with friends you didn’t even have. You just sat in the cafe on call with Changbin and Felix and screamed way too loudly for a public area. The whole cafe knew of your predicament by the end of it.

Upon your return home, you’d beelined to your room and kicked the door shut as quietly as you could. Unfortunately, your foot slipped on the floor and you’d ended up face down with a groan.

Turning over onto your back, you huffed at the offending item that had caused your decline to the ground. A piece of paper met your eyes, neatly folded and written on with what looked like black Sharpie when you’d finally unravelled it.

Three words. Three words that changed your life and let you know that what occurred the night before had really happened. No, not ‘I love you’ - it was simple, a scrawled ‘your room, tonight’. It did happen. You touched yourself in front of Chan, and he was planning on coming back to your room to continue what you’d discussed.

You wanted to squeal and kick your feet, but beneath it all, you felt panicked. This plan had gone too far, and you’d perhaps started to think about spending time with your mother’s boyfriend - actual time, not just sexually charged meetings. It hurt a little bit, a pang in your chest when you remembered that what was happening really was just sexual. Your little arrangement being anything else just wasn’t fathomable.

Chan was interesting. He was a fucking music producer, for god’s sake. That was just straight up cool. That, and he was older than you - you did have raging daddy issues like your friends had said, after all. His friend had sounded funny on the phone, which meant he had to be funny, too. 

All things serious, you didn’t really know much about him, but you wanted to know. Felix had encouraged you to find out, and you felt like you owed it to him - or yourself, you weren’t sure. 

The knock on your door once the evening fell brought you out of your reverie. Chan didn’t wait for a response, swinging your bedroom door open and walking straight in as if he owned the house. You huffed at his demeanour, yet your eyes were still fixated on the way he walked over to your bed with intent. You threw your phone to the side. Felix would have to wait for your half-typed text message. 

“Back again so soon?” You quipped, and he raised an eyebrow. He was only in grey joggers, the thin material highlighting his thick dick imprint between his legs. The fabric hung low, showing off the body that you knew he worked so hard for. His chest was honey toned, yet covered in light, sparse freckles - you wanted to make yourself acquainted with every single one. You felt a little overdressed in just an oversized t-shirt and shorts.

Seeing the frustrated expression on your face, Chan’s own face fell. “Do you not want me here?” He said, voice no more than a whisper. “I can go, if you don’t want to see me tonight. I just thought-”

“I do,” You nodded, finally raising yourself from your position lying down to sitting up cross legged. Chan laid on the bed in front of you, one arm propping his head up. He gazed at you for a few moments, and you could see the relief in his eyes at your words. “I do want to see you tonight. I want to see you like… a lot. Don’t you think it’s weird though? I’m your girlfriend’s daughter, Chan, and we’ve kissed and- and done other stuff, and-”

He scooted over so that he was next to you, and you leaned into him subconsciously. He pulled you in with his arm around your shoulders, broad and muscled. You felt content, comfortable and most of all safe. It was a feeling you’d never felt before.

“I don’t think it’s weird,” Chan hummed, his chest vibrating beneath where you’d landed when he pulled you in. He chuckled, then, his hand moving to your hair comfortingly. “Okay, maybe it is a little weird. I’m just very interested in you. I know you heard me on the phone to Minho, and yes, you are my type - I want to know more about you. Like, even beneath the sexually charged tension, heh.”

Oh. You licked your lips, eyes fixated on a random spot in your wall. “You do?”

He nodded. “I do.”

You couldn’t help yourself. You raised your head, surging over Chan’s body to press a kiss to his lips. His hair was soft when you ran your hands through it, despite random curls getting caught in your nails and causing him to groan at the pain flooding through his scalp. His hands went to your waist, licking into your mouth while he effortlessly pulled you on top of him. The show of strength had you whimpering into the kiss, hands moving down to his jaw. It clenched and unclenched while he had full control over your mouth despite you being on top. 

You pulled away with a wet sigh, moving downwards to kiss at his neck. He groaned underneath his breath at the sensation of your lips on his skin. Your bed squeaked awkwardly as you moved down it, too quick for the old springs to handle. It felt naughty, kissing him like this in your childhood room - it felt even dirtier than the night before had, and you hadn’t done anything yet.

“I need you, Chan,” You whispered, nipping at his collarbone. “Need you. Please.” 

He gasped as he felt your tongue trace the outline of his collarbone. He flung one bicep over his dark eyes with a deep sigh, allowing you to kiss and bite all over his skin. He looked like he was trying to control himself. You didn’t want him to.

Your hips started to grind against him, and you placed your palms flat on his chest. Both of Chan’s hands moved back to your hips with a surprised noise, but he didn’t stop you. His dick was hardening in his joggers, and it was providing the best clothed friction to your aching, needy clit below your pyjama shorts. You saw how big it was before, yet the length of it still shocked you when you slid your clothed core up and down the shaft.

“Daddy,” You whined, hips starting to buck frantically. You were sure that you had never felt this needy in your life. “Daddy, daddy, I want you so bad. You turn me on so bad, make me feel so hot, please-”

“Baby,” Chan groaned, his head falling back against your pillows. The soft pink bed sheets juxtaposed completely with what you were doing, and juxtaposed completely with him - Chan, the muscled man with dark hair who wore black and grey clothes constantly. It was as if he was corrupting you, and he was in a sense, being so much older. “Baby, c’mere, come and lay on the bed. Let daddy eat you out, yeah?”

“No,” You shook your head, hips still moving on his erection. Chan’s chest had started to accumulate a thin layer of dewy sweat, slick on his skin and making you want to lick it off. “I want your cock. I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, please, just put it in, I’m wet enough, I promise.”

He knew you were babbling, incoherent in your haze of lust, but he still entertained you enough anyway. You spread your legs wider when his hand met your thigh, and then he was pushing two fingers beneath your shorts. He was met with your slick folds, and you gasped at feeling the touch of his fingertips, calloused from years of working with music.

“Oh, fucking hell. Dirty girl, dirty fuckin’ girl,” Chan moaned, his eyes almost rolling back into his head. “This pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, baby. All we did was kiss. Are you that much of a slut for me? Are you that much of a slut for your mother’s boyfriend? That’s filthy.”

“Yes!” You wailed, nodding. You reached down, canting your hips backwards a little bit so you could spread your thighs wider before hooking your fingers in your shorts and pulling them to the side. The movement revealed your pussy, clit swollen at the top of soaking wet folds, covering your drippy hole. “I wan’it so bad, so bad, so bad, please, please. Just push it in, make it hurt, I don’t care-”

Chan shoved the fingers of his spare hand between your parted lips, effectively shutting you up. “Shut up. You’ve got to prove to me you deserve it, baby.”

With those words, he was pushing a finger past your entrance. It breached your hole easily, the digit sliding through your wetness and curving up past your g-spot. Chan shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and shock, and then he was pulling his finger out. With a quick movement, he’d yanked his joggers down and let his cock spring out. The coarse hair was trimmed above his long, thick shaft and you couldn’t help but imagine the type of friction that would give your clit - you couldn’t wait.

“You were right. That slutty pussy is wet enough,” He mused, pulling your hips over his bare cock. Your pyjama shorts were slightly in the way, and you pulled them aside even more, letting your folds leave wetness over his shaft. “Lower yourself on it. Stretch yourself out. Slowly.”

You did as he asked, lowering your body onto his length. You felt the stretch immediately. You moaned, loud and ringing off of your walls. You didn’t give a shit if your mother heard. Fuck, you needed this. You wanted to bounce all over his cock until there was nothing left and your hole could do nothing but remember the tight fit. Trying to sit down quicker, Chan grabbed your hips, stopping you while only half his length was in you.

“You're gonna hurt yourself like that, sweetheart. That hole is so tight around me.”

“Please, daddy,” Your head fell into the nape of his neck. You wriggled yourself in his tight hold, trying to get more of his length in your pussy. He shook his head against you, chuckling.

“You want it? Fine, but don't fucking cry to me when it hurts,” Chan said, letting go of your ass. You realised he'd been holding you up, and within a millisecond you'd slammed down onto him. You wanted to scream, the stretch more than you could take. He laughed again, raising his eyebrows at you mockingly. “Too big?”

"N-No, perfect," You retorted. He moaned, spreading his legs and placing his feet flat on the mattress. More. More. Fucking more. You began to raise on him, expecting to ride that perfect cock, but he started to thrust up into you at an unrelenting place straight away, his balls slapping against your ass. You moaned incoherently, almost babbling, hands digging into his toned biceps. He leaned up to nip at your neck, and then he was pulling your t-shirt off of your body.

“No fucking bra?” Chan laughed in disbelief. His mouth went straight to your nipples, biting and sucking on the hard peaks. You jostled on his lap with his thrusts. You wanted to rub your clit, but you felt like he probably wouldn't let you. “Knew you were fucking filthy, sweetheart. You didn't even care about me going raw, did you? You want my load in that dirty hole. And now I find out these pretty tits were only one layer away from me…”

His voice trailed off. You whined, leaning down to try and kiss him again. He shoved his two fingers back in your mouth, making you suck on them. His bruising sucks caused your nipples to hurt, and you fucking loved it. You knew he was marking you up and you'd just have to deal with it.

You tried to start riding him. He didn't let you, manhandling you off of his cock.

“Daddy!” You whined in protest. Chan chuckled. He lifted you and manhandled you so your back was facing him on your bed, and you immediately repositioned yourself so you were face down, ass up. He reentered you in one swift thrust, causing you to jolt in surprise.

“Fucking tight pussy,” He groaned, thrusting into you with the same vigor as before. You almost screamed, but managed to just moan incoherently. The mattress creaked, the sound of old springs ringing around the room. “Fucking dirty hole. Listen to that, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet your cunt is for daddy's cock? For your mother’s boyfriend’s cock?”

You tried to stop whining and moaning to hear what he was pointing out to you, hearing wet slaps. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, fingernails digging into the mattress. You knew you were dripping for a fact now. You could hear it, you could hear everything, his balls slapping against your clit as well as the wet noise of his heavy cock reentering you. 

You threw your ass back against him, trying to get the tip to hit that special spot inside of you. 

“I think that asshole needs me too, sweetheart,” Chan laughed mirthlessly, his hands resting firmly on your ass, encouraging your bouncing. You moaned in response, clenching your pussy tight. He was going to ruin you for everyone. You'd have to just keep coming back for more. “You want daddy's finger in there? You want me to finger your asshole?”

Oh, yes. “Please, daddy, need to be full,” You said, wiggling your hips against him. You vaguely registered him reaching around you and making you suck on the fingers that had previously been in your mouth. He was going to fill both of your holes, and he moaned loudly at the sight of you sucking his fingers. There was no way that the whole house hadn’t heard you both by now. You hoped they were sleeping.

You sighed in ecstasy, feeling the fingers begin to move inside your ass. His thrusting was now hitting your g-spot in your pussy, given the added pressure from being full in both holes. You felt the orgasm finally begin to build. You liked the way he wasn't rushing you to cum, not like those younger college boys. He was taking care of you and just having good fucking sex. “Feels so fucking good, daddy. Feels so good.”

You were now semi-incoherent, your words all joining together in one long moan. Chan loved it, judging by his moans. His cock was pulsing inside you. You wondered if he was close. You wanted him to fill you up to the point where it was dripping out of you. 

He pulled out of you again, grabbing your leg with one strong hand and flipping you onto your back. You were out of breath from the exertion, despite him doing all the work, and he looked fully composed save for the thin sheen of sweat on his body.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked, looming above you. You squirmed feeling your sweaty back rubbing against the blanket uncomfortably, but you nodded anyway. You wanted to please him. He looked down at your writhing body, letting out another groan. “So fucking sexy. You don’t know how much you fucking killed me, teasing me like that. Touch that pussy for me again, show me.”

He started pumping his shaft quickly, still staring down at you. You reached down with one hand and immediately pressed two fingers against your entrance, collecting the slick gathering outside before diving straight in. You curled your fingers against that spot inside of you, whining out. It wasn't enough. Not after having that fat cock in you. He definitely had ruined you for everyone else, including yourself. Nothing was ever going to feel the same again. 

“Mmm. Looks so wet, sweetheart. Daddy wants a taste, is that okay?” Chan questioned, moving back onto his knees. You pulled your fingers out and tried not to cry at the loss.

“Please, daddy. Wanna cum in your mouth,” You slurred out, pushing his head towards you. He moaned into your pussy, taking his fat tongue and licking one wet stripe up your slit. He pulled your pussy back, exposing that throbbing clit to him, and placed one lick directly onto your button. "Fuck, daddy, feels so good! Suck it, please, suck it. I - please - need to cum so bad!"

“Need to cum, huh, sweetheart? I'll make your little pussy throb for me and then I'm putting my cock right back in that tight hole, where it belongs,” He spoke. He thrust two fingers into your slit, much thicker and longer than yours. You spread your legs, holding them up against your chest. You literally almost purred when he started moving his fingers, curling them up into that spot and sucking on your clit whilst he did so. It wasn't going to take long. The man was clearly amazing at every part of sex. 

You focused on the feeling of his wet tongue rubbing up against your clit and writhed, feeling closer and closer to the edge. He knew what he was fucking doing. Your thighs started to shake, taking everything in you not to just let them go from your hold and clutch around Chan’s head. You wanted him to permanently live between your thighs. Your eyes clenched shut, a deep sigh leaving you. 

“Fuck, I'm g’na cum,” You mumbled out, chest heaving and flushed a shade of crimson. Chan pulled away, causing you to whine. You pouted, reaching up to grab his shoulders. "No, no! You said I could. You said you would help me.”

“What I said was that I'd make it throb for you and then I'm sliding back right in here, sweetheart. Be good for daddy, you'll get to cum,” He positioned his length at your core again, sliding right back into home. You both moaned, and he was fucking you in a mating press this time, almost as if you were a couple in love. You wished you were, and realised this was definitely your favourite position so far. The man fucked like an animal and now he was fucking you like he was going to breed you, and you loved it. He reached down with one hand to rub your clit rapidly, trying to bring you to the edge. “This is my fucking pussy. My favourite fucking pussy, my only girl, the only pussy for me, okay?”

“Fuck!” You cried of overstimulation, hands still wrapped around your legs. “G’na... getting close again, gonna-”

“Cum then, sweetheart, flood my cock. Make a mess for me, come on, do it," Chris encouraged, breathing heavily next to your ear. His eyes were focused on where he was entering you over and over again, taking note of the white ring of slick that had formed around the base of his cock, soaking the hair that rested there. You scrunched your eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed with bliss. “That's it. That's my good girl.”

White hot ecstasy overtook your body. You wanted to squirm, but with the pressure of the muscular man on top of your body, you had nowhere to go. You focused on the feeling of his slick chest rubbing against your sensitive nipples, whining and moaning as the orgasm coursed through your body and made it feel like you were being electrocuted. 

“Fucking clenching on my cock, shit,” Chan groaned, his hand falling away from your clit once your breathing had began to calm slightly. His hands went down to grab your hips, and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips up and fucking you senseless, treating you like a toy. “W-Wanted to be soft with you for our first time, sweetheart. I'm not normally like this, not at all, but this fucking pussy is driving me insane, fuck... I need to fill you up. Will you let daddy fill that pussy with my cum, sweetheart? Let me breed you, make you mine?”

You nodded quickly, unable to speak at this point. Your hole felt raw, sensitive and fucked open, but you needed his cum in you. You thought you might die if you didn't get it soon. His tip jabbed into your g spot incessantly, almost causing you to cum again, but you subconsciously knew you couldn't take another orgasm at the same level as the previous one. You might die. 

“Fucking- g’na breed you, sweetheart. Gonna make you mine. G-Gonna give you a baby, g’na fill you up, fuck!”

With an animalistic growl, Chan’s head dropped to your neck, biting into the skin there and definitely leaving a mark. You felt his hips still and cum flooded out of the tip of his length, flooding your hole with a new sense of wetness. You sighed with content and laid there until Chan’s breathing calmed, his body weight fully on top of you and yet not uncomfortable. 

“I have to be honest about something,” Chan sighed. You looked up at him from your position on his chest, and he looked down at you with an apprehensive look. He looked a lot shyer than he did moments before, when he was fucking you senseless and calling you a slut - he was blushing now, embarrassed. You were sure that’s what you liked about him. “You’re- it’s like you were made for me. I don’t know what the fuck to do, heh. I’m falling for you, I think.”

You blinked, leaning up to rest inches away from his face. Got him. You’d got him. “Well, that’s okay, Chan. You’re closer to my age anyway, right?”

[ellecdc]

Mother, i had a request but i forgot what it was 😭😭 i was sooo excited tooo 😫

But in trying to remember i had another brilliant idea!!

Reader x Reggie where theyre both stoic, slightly volatile 🐍 but theyre actually really soft and mushy. And then SURPRISE!! Theyre actually also dating Remus who takes care of them and is super protective. Maybe its revealed near the full moon and possessive Moony makes an appearance.

Siri is flabberghasted; Barty is horrified his darling sweethearts are be defiled; James is shook; and Lily is yhe ultimate bro and super proud of Rem.

Anyway, im sorry your computer was so mean to you. I hope you're looking after yourself 🩵🩵

......this is going to go down in history as my most controversial post........😈 may I present to you.....poly!MoonWater 😈😈😈😈😈

poly!moonwater x fem stoic!reader (i.e., Remus Lupin x Regulus Black x reader)

Sirius Black was admittedly currently going through a hard time.

Now, depending on who you asked, one (literally everyone and anyone) might say it was his own fault.

But if you asked Sirius Black? It was everyone else and their insufferable happiness that was to blame.

His insufferable best-friend-that-anyone-could-ever-ask-for finally landed the woman of his dreams and said woman of previously mentioned best friend was horribly in love with the sod.

Even his baby brother was happy! Which seemed like an oxymoron because in looking at Regulus Arcturus Black, one would assume that boy had never known a single moment of happiness in his life.

If one took into account their childhoods, they’d be right.

But Regulus Black, who was quiet in a way that made you feel like you were always being judged and ridiculed (you were) who very rarely had a kind thing to say about anyone had found happiness (read: a girl) who, for all intents and purposes, could be his personality doppelganger.

One difference, however, was that you were quiet in a way that always had one feeling like you knew too much, saw too much, and you were far too perceptive for anyone’s good. You always seemed to be analyzing the people around you and Sirius, sue him, found that incredibly disconcerting. 

He did not wish to be known, thank you very much. 

And even Moony! Moony, the bastard, was seeing someone! Fucked if Sirius knew who though because the sod wouldn't tell anyone who they were. He just kept popping back to the dorm room covered in hickies and looking far too pleased with himself whilst offering no details.

He was even spending entire nights away from the dorm, and always made sure he had the sodding map with him so they couldn’t even see where he was.

So yeah, Sirius was pissed.

And before you ask – no, it’s not because he was lonely – in fact, he had frequent visitors in his bed thank you very much.  And NO, he didn’t want to discuss the fact that perhaps if he didn’t run at the first sign of commitment or emotional intimacy, he too would have happiness. 

Perhaps he just wanted everyone else to be slightly less happy for his own sake.

Did no one ever think about Sirius Black?

Give right now for example. He and Regulus had been...hanging out (if that’s what you could call the two of them sitting together not speaking as they each did their own homework) since Sirius insisted it was important to do so, especially since Sirius no longer lived at home meaning that their usual means of brotherly bonding (read: trauma) no longer took place. 

And then James showed up (he was so lucky Sirius loved him) who was but of course accompanied by Lily Evans (she was so lucky she’s as lovely as she is) which turned into a small James Potter roast on account of Regulus and Lily both having years’ worth of material from hating him up until recently, and Sirius had loads of material on account of him being a certified hater. 

And then Moony showed up, and if Sirius didn’t know any better, he had definitely been fooling around mere moments ago.

But Sirius did know better.

“Moony, what broom closet did you just crawl out of and where’s the poor soul that was stuck in there with you?” He spat.

Remus merely chuckled and pulled a book out of his bag, making himself comfortable in one of the library’s grandfather chairs. “No one was stuck anywhere with me.”

“No, I’m sure they were a very willing participant.” Regulus drawled, looking particularly bored for all intents and purposes, never bothering to lift his gaze from his book.

“No need to be jealous, baby Black. You’re more than welcome to join me in such broom closets.” Remus joked with a wink.

“Oi!” Sirius swatted at Remus on behalf of his brother (he’s welcome). “That’s my baby brother you’re talking about, and he’s taken thank you very much.”

“Merlin knows how,” James muttered none too quietly, “it’s not like he’s very approachable.”

Regulus lifted a lazy eyebrow as he looked at James from above the pages of his book. “I’ll have you know I’m very approachable to those I wish to be approached by.”

“Hi Reggie!” 

“Get fucked.” Regulus called back to Barty Crouch Junior, hardly sparing his best friend a glance as he approached him from behind. 

“Wow, Reggie’s in a good mood today, huh?” Barty said as he sat on one arm of Regulus’ chair, causing James to laugh until he realized that Barty wasn’t joking.

Suddenly another body showed up and gently sat on the other arm of Regulus’ chair.

Sirius watched as Regulus’ impassive face completely cleared of all contempt and he looked up at you with pure and unadulterated adoration.

It made Sirius sick. 

“Bonjour, mon cheri.” He murmured softly, in complete contrast to the harsh, militarized way he had previously been spitting at everyone else. 

You smiled gently at the boy as you pulled a notebook out of your book bag and produced a small, pressed flower, handing it to Regulus between your thumb and forefinger.

Regulus looked at it like you had just presented him with a hundred-year-old bottle of fire-whiskey.

“Did you pick this for me?” He asked gently, plucking the flower from your fingers with matching delicacy.

You offered him a quiet ‘mhm’ and Sirius noticed a shy smile grace your lips. Regulus’ eyes moved from the flower to your face, and he gazed at you like you had hung the moon.

“Merci, mon amour.” He said reverently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Lily looked at the two of you with a smile one might see on the face of a proud mother, James looked at the two of you like he was seeing a bowtruckle for the first time, and Remus looked oddly taken with the show of affection. Barty was apparently the only other sane one amongst them – oh gods, maybe Sirius really was losing it.

“Where the fuck has this Regulus been the last six years?” Barty muttered incredulously. 

Without much effort on your part, you reached over Regulus’ shoulder and shoved Barty off the arm of the chair and onto the floor before sliding to sit directly in Regulus’ lap.

“You...alright, Crouch?” James called tentatively from his place on the other side of the couple. 

“Oh, I’m fine. That’s just how she shows her love.” Barty said as he bounced back up, completely unperturbed. 

“Is it now?” Sirius asked, tone dripping with sarcasm. Remus swatted Sirius’ leg with his book.

“What?” Sirius squawked.

“Be nice.” He chided.

“I am nice! And why do you care?” Sirius argued, though he never got an answer. 

“I think they’re cute.” Lily announced, sending a sly smirk towards Remus.

“See? Lily gets it.” Remus said with a shrug as he went back to his book.

Sirius hated every single one of them.

But if Sirius thought that had been rough, he had no idea what was in store for him today. 

Sirius, Remus, Peter, James and... Lily had all been sitting at the Gryffindor table during dinner when Sirius noticed you rushing into the Great Hall looking rather frazzled.

“Whoa, what’s going on with Y/N?” Peter asked, apparently having noticed you at the same time as Sirius.

The conversation stopped abruptly as Remus’ head snapped towards the entrance, seemingly on high alert upon hearing of your arrival.

Sirius watched as you scanned the Hall before your eyes fell on their group. Your face crumpled in misery, and you rushed over. You were usually so polished and poised, any and all emotions locked away behind a well-fitted mask, no wonder you and Regulus got along so well.

Regulus...something must have happened to Regulus. Sirius had a dreadful feeling settle in the pit of his stomach; what could have happened to make you rush up to him looking that alarmed?

Except...you breezed right past him.

“What’s wrong, lovebug?” Remus cooed quietly, causing Sirius to choke on his own spit.

“He was hurt during practice.” You cried quietly, voice no more than a whisper as you moved to step between Remus’ spread legs where he had rotated on the bench to face you. His hands landed on the back of your thighs were his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your tight clad legs.

“Okay. How hurt?” Remus asked just as quietly, ignoring the sputtering happening from James, the chuckling from Lily, and the horrified expression painting Sirius’ face.

“Dislocated shoulder.” You cried miserably, as if you’d just been told Regulus was damned to spend the rest of his life in a vegetative state.

Remus’s mouth looked like it was fighting really hard to smile as his eyes pooled with equal parts fondness, worry (for you or Regulus, Sirius wasn’t sure at this moment), and no shortage of love.

What the fuck was going on right now!? 

“What the fuck is going on right now!?” Sirius demanded, his outside voice echoing the one inside of his head.

You startled a little at his exclamation, leaning closer into Remus who increased his embrace around you. 

“What’s happening dear padfoot, is it appears your brother has been injured during quidditch practice. Perhaps you ought to go see how he is?” Remus taunted as he continued running soothing hands over your body.

“Yeah, yeah; the sky is blue, and people get hurt in quidditch. Now what is this!?” He screeched gesturing wildly at the two of you. 

You looked equal parts embarrassed from the attention and equal parts wanting to tell Sirius off for downplaying what you clearly thought was some great upheaval in Regulus’ life when Lily spoke up.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice, Pads.”

His mouth dropped open as he turned to regard his best friend’s girlfriend with a look of pure betrayal.

“Et tu, Lily!?” Sirius cried as James sputtered, “you knew!?”

Remus just smiled as he shoved his nose into your collarbone. You brought up a hand to begin scratching at his scalp, and Sirius was certain the sods leg would be thumping in contentment if he were a dog.

“Let’s go, Sirius.” Remus finally muttered, interrupting an argument that was going nowhere between James, Lily, and Sirius. “You’ve got a brother in the hospital wing.”

You hurried on ahead of them, clearly not interested in the talk the two friends were about to have.

“So, are you fucking my brother too or just fucking him over by screwing his girl?” Sirius finally spat with his arms crossed petulantly over his chest. 

Remus groaned and looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for strength to get through this conversation with Sirius Drama Queen Black. “Sirius, can you ask me a question that’s less likely to get me punched in the face?”

“No.” Sirius muttered. 

“He’s happy, Sirius. I promise.” Remus pressed. “He...he really deserves all the love he’s getting.”

And Sirius would have been an absolute arse if he’d had anything to say in response to that...

Don’t get him wrong, Sirius was an arse and did have many things to say in response to that, but the words died on the tip of his tongue when they walked into the hospital wing to see you sitting on the end of Regulus’ hospital bed.

Regulus, save the sling holding his arm to his chest and the fact that he was sitting in a hospital bed, looked as casual as Sirius ever remembered seeing him, smiling at you with...

Love.

A lot of love. 

“I’m fine, amour, I promise.” They heard him plead with you as they approached.

“Still have all your limbs, I see.” Remus commented as he walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to Regulus’ hair, causing the youngest Black to blush something fierce as he looked over at Sirius. 

“I’m sure she told you I was comatose.” He commented quietly, turning and offering you a wink.

“Don’t tease me...” You moaned, looking very much like you still wanted to fold Regulus up and put him in your pocket for safe keeping.

“Yeah, don’t tease her, love. You’d be sitting in this hospital bed all on your lonesome with no one you dote on you otherwise.” Remus jokingly chided. 

“Love.” Sirius groaned with a dramatized gag. 

“Oh, grow up, Siri.” Regulus barked.

Sirius’ head snapped over to his brother at the sound of his childhood nickname. Regulus’ cheeks were still dusted pink, whether it be at the unplanned outing of his relationship, being hurt, or the gravity of this moment.

Regulus hadn’t called him that since they were children...like, real children before the trauma, the alienation, the disinheritance, the running away...

Perhaps because Regulus had spent all of that time living in unmeasurable pain. Just like Sirius had.

And maybe, now...Regulus had people who made him feel brave enough to be vulnerable like this, to reconnect in ways he long thought impossible. 

Fuck Moony and his good naturedness; Sirius hated that Remus was right about this. 

“Oh, fucking Godric.” Sirius muttered petulantly as he pulled Regulus into a bone crushing hug.

Literally.

“Sirius!” Regulus groaned before Sirius was ripped away from his brother. Sirius expected Remus to be the one throwing him to the floor for inadvertently hurting Regulus’ injury...but it was you. 

“You idiot.” You hissed as new tears formed in your eyes, immediately moving to grab the ice pack from the bedside table and gently placing it on Regulus’ shoulder.

Remus and Regulus looked at you with so much adoration, Sirius was certain hearts were going to start pouring out of their eyes and floating around their heads.

“I’m fine, thanks!” He called out as he hauled himself up off the floor. 

“Oh good.” You said sarcastically.

“I don’t like this.” Sirius grumbled, causing all three faces to turn to him.

“Pads...”

“Sirius, please.” Regulus implored.  

“What if you break his heart?” He asked no one in particular. “What if you hurt my baby brother? Who am I supposed to support then? Or you; what am I supposed to do if you hurt my best friend? And what if you tossers hurt Y/N!”

The three of you shared a look before his brother turned to him. “Sirius, if we breakup, I give you permission to side with Remus.”

“And if we break up, I promise you can side with Y/N.” Remus added.

“Nope.” You said quickly, “that’s fine, I don’t need to be included in this.”

Sirius groaned out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank gods. Okay, okay. I guess I'll allow it then....”

“THE THREE OF YOU ARE WHAT!?” Barty screeched as he stood at the door of the infirmary, still in his quidditch kit.

“Do we actually have to have this conversation again?” You groaned quietly.

Remus shot Regulus and extremely guilty look as he slowly stood.

“Remus.” Regulus warned.

Remus grimaced and slowly made his way over to you.

“Remus John Lupin, I swear to Salazar...”

“Regulus, I love you; I do. But...he’s you’re friend an- NOW DOVE” He shouted, and the two of you took off in a sprint out of the infirmary. 

“Quite the catch you’ve got yourself there Regs.” Sirius taunted. 

“Sod off.” Regulus muttered as Barty made his way over to his bedside.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Sirius jeered as he, too, took off out of the infirmary, leaving Regulus Black to deal with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior on his own.  

don't hate me

[thebadboyfanclub]

Welcome To Our Family (Daemon x Reader)

Hey everyone, so as I mentioned before I wanted to write a throuple thing with Rhaenyra and Daemon although even on this request there was some drama involved but it was interesting to write nonetheless. Also I don’t know why but this song inspired me the most especially the part “where you go I go, what you see I see” that was the vibe I was trying to pass for our reader with daemon

Most would say that the war in the stepstones had no place for love to blossom, the reeking stench of death had overtaken and most men had no life in their eyes, the majority prayed in gratitude that they were alive while others cursed the gods for keeping them on this forsaken realm when their friend of even their kin had been killed.

That did not even grace Daemon, who was lucky enough to spend every night in the arms of his beloved (y/n), the sister of one of his soldiers that had been wounded, (y/n) had marched in and demanded that her brother will come home.

“I will be damned if I allow you to give more than an arm for this, you are coming with me”

Her brother had obeyed her, she was as fragile as a rose but her thorns stung more than anything, right then and then Daemon had become a mere slave to his emotions, something that had never occurred before.

“I wish I could stay in your arms forever”

“That would be a dream, my love, however, we are counting the days until you depart, your wife probably awaits you”

Daemon was deeply offended by the jab his lover had thrown at him, slowly he rose up and away from her arm reach to look her straight in the eyes, the fireplace burned bright and the light shined against her glistening skin.

“You are questioning my feelings for you”

“I am questioning how strong they are, you are a prince, a husband, your life seems to hold no room for me”

“Is that how you think of this? That I just wanted to bed you?”

“Do you truly wish for me to answer that?”

Silence took over them while the only sound came from the crackles of the fire, Daemon was aware of how badly this could look, she was a commoner, a mere lady, and the realm would never accept her even if Daemon had not wed another.

“You and our daughter mean everything to me”

“But nothing to the king, he will ask for my head once he finds out I am carrying your child”

“I would never put your lives at risk”

“How do you plan on keeping us safe my love?”

“Do not worry about that, I will take care of everything”

(Y/n)s belly was starting to show, it wouldn’t take long for the king and his little whisperers to demand answers, the easy route was to declare his kin a bastard but Daemon was flying on cloud nine when (y/n) announced that she was with child, no he must do right by her.

He flew with her to Pentos, far away from Viserys and people that cared most about titles and crowns than love and compassion.

“Twins, my prince, two sons, praise the mother”

“What about (y/n)”

“The lady is a warrior, she is tired but healthy”

Daemon did not speak another word to the maester, he simply passed by him and into the room to find his beloved laying in bed, a faint smile on her face as she held one of her children while the other was being held by a midwife.

“You owe me 3 dragon coins”

“It is a bet I will happily pay, how are you feeling?”

“Sore and gross but happy, why don’t you hold him?”

“I-“

“Come on love it is merely a babe, like… so”

Slowly (y/n) passed one of her sons to her lover, instructing him to hold it carefully but securely, then she reached for the midwife so she can have her other son in her arms, both of the babes were quiet in their parent's arms.

“What should we name them?”

“I was thinking of Orryn, and mayhaps… Baelon?”

“Baelon and Orryn, the two princes”

Daemon and (y/n) had grown inseparable much to his brother's dislike Daemon had scoffed at his previous marriage and took his place next to his most endearing (y/n) that had blessed him with not just two children, but with passion, and comfort, she created a home for him, without her there was no warmth, no color.

Viserys was only finding out the milestones his brother was achieving with his mistress via ravens that Daemon dared to send, the birth of his sons had scratched a wound in Viserys that was not quite healed yet, so naturally when Rhea had passed due to fever, Daemon had even dared to invite Viserys to his wedding that took place in Pentos.

(Y/n) had just given birth to another set of siblings, Alyssa and Arren, two silver-haired princesses that slept peacefully through the night and would only stay quiet if (y/n) or Daemon held them, (y/n)s parents and brother had traveled to Pentos to finally meet the children and also attend the wedding.

“You look dashing sweetling, I see the prince has taken good care of you”

“How could I not? What is more important than the happiness of my lady wife?”

“We must admit we had conflicting thoughts over you my prince, I am happy that you proved us wrong”

“I do not hold it against you, she is your daughter you want what is best for her, also you were not the only one, (y/n) was also very skeptical over my intentions”

“I had every reason to do so”

“I have made peace with the fact that you will never admit you were wrong my love, you do not have to find excuses for it”

Daemon and (y/n) were wed in Valyrian traditions, something that infuriated Viserys, how dare he wed a commoner with the sacred paths of old Valyria, it was distasteful and utterly disrespectful, Viserys had only sent a one-sentence raven scroll back

“You disgust me, never come back”

Daemon had only rolled his eyes at it and threw it in the fire, he couldn’t care less about Kings Landing, they could eat each other for all he cared, (y/n) and their children were all that mattered ever since he met with the beautiful hues of hers, he treasured everything about her and worshipped the ground she walked on, he would always hold her close and shower her with gifts.

“We received a raven, I have taken the liberty to open it”

“What is it?”

“Laenor Velaryon has passed, and your niece is requesting our presence, well yours to be specific, she said “I need you, uncle”

“You are jealous, I have never seen you get jealous”

“Is this the one you told me about, that “spur of the moment” girl?”

“Indeed, we do not have to go, besides, my brother banished me”

“No, it is the first time our presence is requested”

“My dear, you are with child and the flight is long”

“I will be fine, I know it”

Daemon was certain he could not sway her, once something was on her mind there was nothing that could turn it around, he was also aware that the reason she was so adamant was a side of hers that felt threatened, there was a ghost of his past that was requesting attention and (y/n) was not willing to walk away from this without putting up a fair fight.

At a day (y/n) and her 8 children stood next to her and her husband all dressed in black, everyone rubbed their eyes at the sight of such numerous children, (y/n) always knew she was meant to be a mother and that fact that she had Daemon as her husband made it so much easier.

Until it didn’t, they were summoned by the king after the ceremony, (y/n) felt her stomach drop as soon as she walked in the room, instinctively her one hand went over her growing belly, yet she mastered the strength to place a smile and curtsy before the king.

“What is the meaning of this brother?”

“I was hoping we could agree to some sort”

“Over what?”

“I wish for you to come back, I… will legitimize your children and wife as she has proven worthy, bringing forward 8 children with another on the way is no easy task”

“The gods have been generous to us that is correct, we are grateful for this offer but forgive me to ask, since you mentioned an agreement it seems you want something in return”

“Correct, there is no smooth way to say this but as a parent, I hope you understand that I would do anything to protect my daughter”

“No”

“Daemon”

“If you are asking us to wed Rhaenyra then you have lost your mind, I will not involve my wife and children in your scandals”

“Pardon my husband, I think you can understand the reason behind his outburst”

Daemon was left confused over (y/n)s composure that attempted to cover for his utter refusal to hide his brother's plans, he turned to observe his wife, she was calm, and her hand went to find his as their fingers intertwined (y/n) gave him a slight squeeze of comfort.

“The legitimacy of our children and our marriage is something that we are interested in, however, you can see why we might have some objections over accepting Rhaenyra in our marriage”

“You are trying to negotiate?”

“Yes”

“What else would you like to accept, please speak freely”

“I want my children to be given dragon eggs as well as meet any unclaimed dragons, they are Targaryens, they should have the pick of their dragons as well”

“Done”

“I shall also be considered Rhaenyras wife, if we were to wed I shall have the same rights as my husband”

“You are suggesting the realm accept you as the future queen's consort?”

“As you mentioned I brought forward 8 children and another on the way, the crown shall accept them as future princes and princesses, if not then there is nothing for us here”

Daemon chose to observe his lady wife than speak up, she took initiative and strived for the best option, something he admired in her but he had never really witnessed how far she was willing to go to secure the future of her family, now she was sacrificing a spot in their marriage for a seat at the table, Viserys had been outsmarted by what he used to frown upon.

“Very well, we accept your conditions”

“Well then… welcome to our family Princess Rhaenyra”

-

(Y/n) and Daemon wed Rhaenyra as they had once done while their children and the rest of their family watched, Rhaenyra had underestimated the lady, (y/n) and might not be as assertive or rebellious as Daemon but her wits and calculated movements showed a woman that walked with her head held high and every step was thought after.

The days turned to seasons and then years, everyone was holding their breaths as they took a front-row seat to one of the most important marriages and alliances within the Targaryen Dynasty.

(Y/n) was held in the best light by the small folk, “the realms mother”, and “the Alyssane reborn” as her fertility kept thriving, blessing Daemon with another set of twins soon after Rhaenyra was wed, the two beautiful baby girls were named Megaera and Valera, the first of their family to receive dragon eggs on their cradles a gift by Rhaenyra who picked them herself then came Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya, overall (y/n) had the castle of Dragonstone filled with children, 13 to be precise.

Rhaenyra was painfully aware of how those babies came to fruition, Daemon's thirst for his wife was evident and he did not even consider giving Rhaenyra the courtesy of hiding, Rhaenyra had lost count of the times she had walked in on (y/n), and Daemon lusting after one another at all hours of the day and any room that was close to them, she sometimes wondered if the legends of Rhaenys being the favorite wife of Aegon made Visenya go through what Rhaenyra was also experiencing, is that mayhaps the reason behind Rhaenyra identifying with the warrior queen?

As (y/n) and Daemon stood by Rhaenyra at court, defending her and consulting her on important matters, painting the picture of a happy marriage with two spouses that supported her revolutionary claim, the realm expected Rhaenyra to bare a child as well, (y/n) was producing heirs one after the other, Rhaenyras womb laid empty since Daemon did not spend not even one night in her chambers.

It was the first time in years that the three of them had stepped foot in kings landing, Vaemond had called the court to usurp Lucerys from his claim at the driftwood throne, naturally, all 13 of their children were present along with the three boys from Rhaenyras previous marriage, (y/n) insisted that it would show how United they are and having that strong of a number on their side would scare off any other accusations.

A solid plan, until Ser Vaemond decided to protest against the king affirming young Lucerys as the successor for the driftwood throne.

“You run your house as you see fit, but I would rather die than let that boy take over my family’s name, parading around because you are too blind to see the truth”

“You dare question the decision of a king?”

“Look at them, all thirteen of them hold the characteristics of old Valyrian, true born heirs that I would happily accept as mine even though they came from a womb of a commoner, and you ask me to accept these three boys as Velaryons? It is blasphemy”

“You are certainly bold Ser Vaemond, you have the nerve to call me a commoner when I hold the future queen and the brother of the king as my spouses, my children are not thirteen, but sixteen, and all of them hold their names with pride, it saddens my heart to see that the thirst for recognition has turned you to this low of antics”

“Her children are BASTARDS! and she. Is. A. Whore”

“Pity, you had such great potential”

As (y/n) finished her sentence Daemon had taken the liberty to end Ser Vaemonds life, a clean cut through his head right above his tongue with the great sword dark sister, causing most people to gasp while (y/n) smirked and watched the body fall on the well-polished floor.

“No one disrespects our family”

“Disarm him!”

“No need, my love”

Daemon stretched his hand to his beloved (y/n) who only turned to pinch Lucerys cheek before she took her husband's hand to walk away, only to halt and turn around again, looking back to the rest of her family members.

“Rhaenyra”

Rhaenyra was grateful for (y/n)s graciousness, there was nothing that she could hold against her, she was loving and caring to her three boys, she would listen to Rhaenyra about any concerns for hours and even now she defended and included her in front of everyone.

She should be satisfied with such, still a thorn stuck in her heart and pride making Rhaenyra feel second best when it came to Daemon's heart, it has always been (y/n), (y/n) carried his offspring’s, he gave up everything for her, took her away and gave her a life full of gifts and love, the finest of any kind was reserved for (y/n).

“Pardon my intrusion, the princess is requesting Prince Daemon in her chamber”

“It is late, can it not wait?”

“Sweetling, the poor girl cannot know, go to her, I will be waiting for you”

“Fine, take your nightgown off for me, I want us to get straight to it when I get back”

Daemon whispered deviously before he planted a passionate kiss on the lips he most adored, reluctantly pulled away with an audible gruff and followed the servant girl silently, wondering what was so important that he had to leave his precious bed and his lustful wife right in the heat of the moment.

Rhaenyra paced back and forth with impatience written all over her demeanor and face, Daemon always had an influence over her, making her feel like a little girl again, though this was a different type of anxiety, once Daemon entered the room and the servant gave them their privacy Rhaenyra took a deep inhale through the nose to ease her nerves.

“I hoped to confront you over our marriage”

“What of it?”

“Do you truly think everything is fine or are you just blind?”

“I and my wife have honored our vows”

“That is the problem, you and your wife, it has never been just your vows”

“When you wed us you were to understand your place when it came to me and (y/n), I never used her as a surprise, you called for our aid and we generously offered it”

He was right, Rhaenyra had never been blindsided by them, (y/n) was a staple of their marriage, (y/n)s strive for the legitimacy of her children was the only reason Daemon allowed their wedding to happen, (y/n) had drank for Rhaenyras cup just as daemon had, binding their hands together and swore loyalty and devotion to their future queen.

As a woman Rhaenyra felt cast aside, this marriage was an insult to her pride, and having to bare through a birth of a child one after the other with a smile on her face was a twist of a knife in her wound, while her womb lay empty.

“You refuse to spend time with me, alone, you only show up with your children-“

“Our children, (y/n) and I call your sons our sons”

“At court yes”

“Are you questioning our actions? I did not have you to be as dim-witted as you seem right now, (y/n) called Lucerys her trueborn son in front of everyone, I took a man’s head for insulting you and our house and yet you stand before me and claim it is not enough for your liking?”

“I stand here to remind you that we have yet to produce a child, you can kill as many men as you wish, and (y/n) can scream it at the top of her lungs but that does not change that everyone sees her parading her belly and call her the realms mother while my womb rottenness under this wedlock”

“Rotten? Alright then, let us entertain this and say you bare my child, a silver-haired beauty that the realm will welcome, has it crossed that brilliant mind of yours that this will be more of a scandal for your three boys?”

“My sons are Targaryens”

“No doubt about it, but certainly they do not look like the part, in comparison to their brothers and sisters they look more like (y/n) than you”

“You are not refusing to lay with me to hush the rumors, you simply do not have the urge for it, I remember a time that you did, mayhaps it was the image of a gullible girl that kept you going”

“Listen and listen well, wife, (y/n) is my eternal love, the woman that took me in her arms and showed me life, you are my blood, I protected you, I defended you, I offered you sanctuary just so you can once again have something to complain about, well that is it, if you dare to summon me again for such idiotic matters I will grab my brother by the neck and force him to annul the marriage do you understand?”

Daemon was furious, as he spoke he started taking steps towards her, to the point that her back found the wall and Daemon was inches away from her face, hissing out the threat of annulment like a snake that released poison to its prey.

Rhaenyra had never experienced such hostility from Daemon, to say she was shocked was an understatement as her eyes frantically tried to find focus on his, daemons eyes were filled with fury, Rhaenyra had crossed the line in his mind, (y/n) had been kind and honorable to the princess, doing her duty like a proper lady wife and Rhaenyra scoffed at her, at his (y/n).

“Alright”

“Wonderful, now you must excuse me, I have some urgent matters that need my attention”

Requests are open!

[chuunai]

Henlo I have something to add to the 100 followers event if that’s cool

Dazai with scenario 2 and prompt 16. Idk how these things traditionally go but…. Your stuff seems good so far and I’m excited to see what you do with this

Thank you thank you, Anon. Also sorry for how long this took everyone I swear I’m combing through the requests 3_3

✧˚ · . dad first, detective second - dazai osamu

who would’ve imagined the demon prodigy having a hellion of his own?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → baby baby baby, Dazai really likes your boobs, etc.

It’s a perfect night, really.

Your warm body resting against his, limbs lazily tossed over each other as you snuggled and acted like lovesick fools. Moonlight poured in from the cracks of the curtains, casting small slivers on your face. Dazai couldn’t help but think of an angel when it came to you. A heavenly being that granted him a new life and forgave him for his past.

Nudging at your cheek with his nose, his voice came out in a sleepy tone.

“You should sleep, [name].”

His hand reached up to cup your face, playfully using his thumbs to gently close your eyelids like one would do with a body. He’d seen many people in the Mafia do that—try and make the deaths they caused seem more peaceful rather than a brutal end. Dazai himself never did that. No need in beautifying a simple concept of its finality and simplicity.

“Can’t. I know she’s about to wake up. It’s nearly eleven, and we put her to sleep at seven. I can tell.”

You shook your head stubbornly, looking at the baby monitor nearby where static noise and the occasional mix of a tiny snore and coo came from.

His little hellion.

Really, he had no clue how he got so lucky. First with the fact that he impregnated you and you carried his baby. Second with the fact that he had his own family now. And third with the fact she looked so much like him. Thick brown curls of hair on her head, big curious eyes that looked at him so adoringly. The tiny freckles and birthmarks scattered across her skin. She had some of your features, yes, but they were more subtle than his features.

Coupled with the fact that she was a bundle of energy and sass like him.

“I insist, pretty. Shinju needs her daddy too.”

He knew how much she made you tired with her habit for refusing to nap for more than an hour or two coupled with breastfeeding and the general responsibility and time that being a mom took. Dazai wanted to spend time with his daughter too and relieve your stress. You’d get sleep, he’d get to see Shinju. Win-win, in all accounts.

Hell, he even gave you puppy eyes in the darkness of your room.

“I…fine. But don’t wake me up if you screw up.”

Dramatically, he sighed and frowned, placing a hand on his heart.

“Does my ‘bella really think I’m an incompetent father? How heartbreaking and cruel of her!”

Much to his relief, you playfully groaned, pinching his sides lightly.

“I didn’t say that, dummy. God, I swear Shinju is more mature than you.”

Jesus, you were so insulting tonight. How was the baby that tried to put anything she could in her mouth more mature than him? Sure, he was a bit funny and childish, but he wasn’t a baby. Well, if he had his face buried in your boobs he’d be a baby. Still, it’s not his fault that they’re just so big and warm and squishy and seem to beg for his attention.

Which is what he soon did, resting his head on your chest while cupping them softly. You were wearing one of his shirts and a nursing bra underneath. He wished you weren’t wearing anything at all, but it wasn’t fair to ask for that when you recently gave birth just a mere two months ago. His libido lowered itself only for you. And when you did have sex—quickies when Shinju would nap—, he was so much nicer and loving than usual. The mother of his child didn’t deserve rough mean sex, no, she deserved gentle treatment under the sheets of their futon.

You deserved everything that he could possibly give you.

So when the small baby demon eventually began to wake up and whimper, he pressed a kiss onto your cheek and slowly got up, whistling a small tune under his breath before waking to the makeshift nursery nearby.

Opening the door slowly, he made his way to the crib and picked up his sniffling newborn, shushing her comfortingly.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. We don’t want to wake up mama, okay?”

Her tiny hands balled up into fists, weakly moving around and occasionally hitting his chest. Sitting down on the rocking chair nearby, he fumbled around for one of her stuffed animals, grabbing the familiar bunny as he placed it in her arms.

“Look there, Shinju. It’s your bunny!”

From an authoritative Mafia executive to a tired loving father. Lord, Chuuya would be laughing his ass off. Or have that stupid face of confusion while he’d berate Dazai with questions about what unlucky woman had to bear his spawn. But what could that short alcoholic of a ginger say? No woman wanted to birth his babies.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Shinju’s tiny fingers began to grab at his chest, thinking he could feed her too. He could, just not straight from the source unlike you. Standing up, he went over to the mini-fridge nearby which contained bottles of your milk. It wasn’t too chilly, and so he carried it and the cooing baby to the kitchen where he warmed it up in the microwave.

After it warmed up, he carefully began to feed her, leaning back against the counter as he did so.

It still felt so odd to him. Caring and loving someone he helped to create. His self from ten years ago would never believe it—that they’d find love and even have a baby after escaping the Mafia. He had you to thank for that. The one who picked up the discarded pieces of his soul and welded it into the man he is today—a father first, and a detective second.

Kinda rushed the end but I couldn’t think of anything more :(

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

[shippyo]

@kirbyoctournament

Introducing to you all,the only one and unique....

Personality

She is extremely calm, she never seems to be bothered by anything, she is kind as much as she can be capable of saying something cruel, like life itself is, she always seems patient, because for her anything is ephemeral, even herself, but she will always be open to a conversation, she will advise you and will try to give her point of view about herself, always in a respectful manner.

Powers

Life is ironically capable of taking life from other beings, to reincarnate them into a new being with her mere hands, usually looking like butterflies like her first daughter Morpho Knight.

She is capable to cast divine-looking lights,usually looks like a swarm of butterflies, although she won't attack in 99,9% of the times but the hundreds of her children will defend her.

Its mere presence is calming but its true form is unknown to common sense and if someone dared to see the beauty of life in its entirety, the impact it would have on your consciousness would be devastating, but with it, who knows, maybe it would be able to restore the unimaginable at the cost of resting for eons.

Life is capable of teleporting to any place in any universe, she never chooses a specific place, it enjoys walking and you can see her in the most beautiful fields of flowers or in the cruelest wars, you can consider yourself lucky to witness her, because it is practically a miracle.

And never mess with something beyond your comprehension cause only death can end all what she is.

Canon characters she knows or knows that exist

Morpho

Her first daughter, before it was a different being who arrived by unknown means to the dimension of Life, she begged her not to send her to the afterlife, she didn't want that, the pain was so inmense due to her cruel Life that she just begged to stop existing, life, on the other hand, did something different and used its power for the first time in what became a being, completely new and at peace,Morpho has an unbreakable loyalty towards the being she now calls "mother"

Necrodeus

"Someone I loved? Or do i still love?"

The void

A being from the void reemerges from the heart, all always in a different way like Kirby or Zero himself, as if they were children yet to determine their destiny inside their mother or heart in this case, Life does not know them directly, it only knows that they exist and for some reason, she loves them, she feels a maternal sensation as if all those beings had been part of her at some point, although she can't explain why.

Lore

[this part might not be that extense but cropping to not cluster everything,enjoy💖]

Once life was reborn, but before that, there was a life before, yes, a time when everything was different.

Once there was a woman in whom a new life was generated inside her, all on her wedding day on an now unknown place, butterflies fluttering, next to her pure white bone dress, walking towards who would be her husband, everything was complete happiness everything seemed to never end but...

At one point, when the husband was about to put the ring on the lady that would seal their love, something trembled and out of nowhere, everything broke into stardust, in the last seconds of pain and confusion, the lovers did not know that it was the end of everything known and unknown.

Life had died.

Or was it really like that?

Life woke up once again from...a dream? A nightmare? What was that even? Where was she now?

Is life really itself? She felt a pain that would gradually fade away along with the memory of what happened, at the same time another figure,the death itself also woke up where they were, they both looked at each other, they had never seen each other... like this?

But still they both felt a sense of nostalgia, something empty in them throbbed strongly, while memories of... themselves? or something that seemed like the they that they are now joined in their confused memories

" know you."

"But who were you?"

"Were we them? But who were we supposed to be?"

"Now, what are we?"

They both said, but neither could give an accurate answer.

And it didn't matter anymore.

A new everything emerged from nothing and they were part of that everything.

Life and death separated each one on their own for a long time searching, trying to know what they had to do, what it all meant, who those beings were.

until, one day after eons they met again to conclude that everything was nothing.

Nothing had meaning other than existing.

Nothing they could have experienced was eternal, they both came to the conclusion that everything would die to become a new whole again.

From their past memories they concluded that this was just a new phase in an eternal cycle without explanation, in which life would return only for death itself in its last seconds to kill her so that all of life would re-emerge as a new one when it was about to end and NEVER be the same as before.

And that couple, it may or may not have been them, it didn't matter, because they are no longer those entities and this will happen again and again, they are merely a new version of themselves of those they were and will be in the future.

It didn't make sense, nor did they both want that cruel fate, it's confusing, it's unfair,death even cried out of mere frustration.

But there was no escape, no being could escape it.

After this, now both beings try to find a filling for the void in their hearts, death wandering throught any universe and cursing "the all" for this meaninglessness, while life, still almost always remaining in her own dimension, a blank world that is in everywhere and nowhere, sometimes descends to any world that reaches the imagination wandering through them to perhaps find her own the meaning of life.

[hiimawarish]

like passing notes in secrecy

s. jing yuan being as clingy as mimi is with you. cw. female/afab reader. fluff. established relationship (you've been married for a long time). jing yuan is whipped. he's also a menace. tw. none? not proofread (as usual). wc. 0.8k a/n. what can i say more than the brain rot this man causes me is endless? credits. dividers by @/cafekitsune.

Jing Yuan ponders, for a few seconds, how he got himself into this situation.

As he watches the scene unfold in front of his eyes—the sight of you laughing loudly as Mimi followed your every command—, he wonders if he has ever experienced peace as overwhelming as this. Odd, isn’t it? That one can feel such peace that it’s unsettling. Yet, he does. The fact that he can spend his day off here, merely watching you play with Mimi is proof enough that he has more than he deserves. 

A smile curves into his lips at that thought. If you were to listen to his thoughts, you’d already be lecturing him on his self-deprecation—on how everything that has happened is not his fault. It has been a long road, he realizes, but it’s been worth it. Even if you had yelled at him the moment he brought Mimi home with that absurd story about being a grimalkin cub, even if you had seemed rendered speechless by a mixture of surprise and concern when he appeared home with a baby Yanqing in his arms… It had been a long and arduous journey, still you remained by his side. Most of the time he feels like he does not deserve such consideration, but through the centuries you’ve managed to change his mind.

You’re stuck with me for life, you’d say, sticking your tongue out at him in that cute and playful expression he loves so much. For life. For eternity. Those were big words, and yet you’ve meant each and every of them.

“Come on, Mimi, I’m tired already!” He can hear you complain. The amused smile on his lips widens at that—you always try to tire Mimi out, but it always backfires. Jing Yuan can see Yanqing standing outside with you, and by the expression on the boy’s face, he knows he thinks the same. The lion had grown unusually attached to you over the years, and instead of settling down with you, it seemed to fill with an infinite amount of energy. “Stop! Stop!”

The lion did, in fact, not stop.

It chased you around the backyard again, and Jing Yuan watched you laugh. Your hair free, just like you liked it, messy from the wind and your play. Your cheeks have turned pink by now, the strain of keeping up with Mimi clear in your face and your heavy breathing. Yet, you still play with it. You allow Mimi to chase you, to tackle you down, to nuzzle into your neck, and to finally rest its head on your shoulder.

“I’ll bring you water,” Yanqing sighs, shaking his head as he disappears into the main house.

Jing Yuan watches him leave with a hint of amusement in his golden eyes—the boy is definitely acting like a teenager now, he realizes. Bothered and moody, and yet he would never deny you or him help. He seems exasperated as he walks away, and if the General paid enough attention, he could have listened to Yanqing wondering how his mother had gone crazy from playing with the lion. Instead, Jing Yuan is focused on you; the way your fingers lazily play with Mimi’s mane, how the lion almost purrs.

“Aren’t you two cozy, hm?” He says, as he finally approaches you.

You open your eyes lazily, lips curving naturally into a grin that could melt even the everwinter from Jarilo-VI.

“We’re resting,” You say. The moment your hand stops playing with Mimi’s mane, the lion reacts—it nudges your face, a clear demand for you to continue. “Well, Mimi is resting, and apparently I’m giving pets.”

“So it is a bad time to ask for my cuddles, hm?”

You can feel the rumble of laughter from within his chest as he tries his best to lay down on your other side, and now you’re trapped. Trapped between a giant cat and your husband. His laughter is contagious, though, and soon you’re laughing, too. His hand snakes around your waist, pulling you into his chest lazily. 

Mimi whines.

You laugh, again.

“Who would have thought the cub would be so jealous?” Jing Yuan complains, playing dumb.

“Mimi is anything but a cub now,” You nudge him softly, giggling when Mimi follows you, placing its head on your chest again, its mane tickling your neck. “And, for your information, it takes after you. You’re just as demanding, if not more.”

More laughter. You can feel it on your back as he holds you, his hand on your waist soft and gentle, tracing lazy figures on the fabric of your dress. 

“But I’m a general, darling mine.” He presses a lazy kiss to your neck. “Demanding is part of my job, wouldn’t you say?”

You elbow him, and you don’t miss the vibration of his laughter against your back. Sometimes, you think, your husband is insufferable.

If only the people of the Luofu knew that, within the four walls of your home, the Dozing General is better known as the Doting General.

more works.

©2023 hiimawarish do not translate, repost, copy, modify

[sunny-mercya]

Sensitive Heart

Poly! Billy Loomis & Stu Macher x Male Reader

Fandom -> Scream 1996

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Sidney had become quick to learn, that you're a rather sensible—if not even overstimulated sensitive—boy.

Most things; be it a large crowd, people accidentally bumping into you or someone saying something you had difficulty to understand—hell, even the most mundane compliment; you look really good today—brought you to tears.

And on some days, wether if they are bad or good ones, you would cry for an eternality of hours—exhausting yourself with a sore throat sobbing.

Throughout the school years, you had spend more time in the nursery office thanks to this—whatever and however it's called, Sidney doesn't bother to remember—than being actually injured.

Tatum, who had heard from Stacy—and she had it being told from Mackenzie, who had gotten told it from Helena—the nurses daughter—told Sidney once, that your over sensitivity of personality has been coming from your mother.

Your mother who had pampered you into a suffocating and constant anxious panic. She was a kind soul, with her off shrugging absently affectionate, but treating you well still.

Although, when you were at the age of ten—having been in the hospital again, because of your mother—your father had enough, filled a divorce and complete custody over you and told his ex-wife to leave.

So now, Sidney had to endure your tears filled stuttering jumble of words while accompanying you, yet again, to the nurse office.

Please god, she thought, end me. Holding back a groan, simply nodding along to what you're trying to say. If she's telling you to shut up, you would probably cry a flood then.

~~~

The cold wet washcloth always felt good over your burning irritated eyes. Cooling them off and bringing a sort of pain relief to them.

Mrs. Westbrock had left the office, after assessing you down onto the bed and giving you a glass of water and headache-pills. Nothing new, a normal occurrence for you to be alone—till school hours ended—in the nurse office, when you had another rather server breakdown episode. Then again, every episode brought you to the office.

»Aww, at this point you should ask the Director to let you live rent-free here« Stu did his best to lower his voice, when stepping in. Knowing well how headache prone you would get and he also knows how loud his voice can be.

It must be lunch break or a free period or study all, otherwise Billy and Stu wouldn't be able to visit you. Then again, you wouldn't put it pass them to just skip a lesson or two—and you knew they had done already more than once.

»What was it this time babe?« asked Billy, sitting down onto the chair. Someone would say his tone, when asking you this question, is coming off as annoyed, rude and tutting. It wasn't. It was Billys way of asking you how you are and what the cause was.

You shrugged at him, rubbing your eyes and sitting up a bit—letting Stu prep kisses onto your face.

»I.....don't really remember anymore.«

Billy hummed, knowing well it was lie of you, watching you and Stu, the both of you conserving now over some Cartoon.

»Did Jules brought you here?«

»Nu-uh, it was Sydney,«

Billy nodded, they all were somewhat friends with Sidney, though somehow she always seemed to be irritated annoyed by your mere presence—not that you took notice if it, always busy to greet everyone happily, even when it was hard to do for you.

»[Name]. Tell us, what made you cry.« a bit demanding harsh he sounded, but how would he know if Billy didn't use a dominant force to bring you to speak.

»It, it–it was, someone talked about–about how killing is, is–is something and I got upset over it, because they talked so causally about it, but killing is–is–is bad and taking–taking a humans life is cruel«

You broke into another, new, round of tears. Sobbing into Stu's arms, who cooed at you lovely and giving you sloppy kisses on the cheeks again.

Oh, how innocent sweet you are. Thinking so naively and thoughtful about the world. Aren't you adorable?

~~~

It was weeks after, when Sidney came to the conclusion that the ominous masked—dubbed as Ghostface—killer, who tried to killer her, is Billy Loomis.

Sidney, when she got the chance, pulled you into an empty classroom, cornering you. Doing her best to look as threatening as she could, to make you confess.

She always found it strange how Billy (and Stu) could love someone like you—someone who's a crybaby, skittish and meek in personality. Too Sensitive for a boy to be.

But then she thought, you're the perfect alibi for Billy or perhaps even someone who knows that Billy is the murder.

»You know Billy is the killer, don't you [Name]?«

»What? What are you talking about Syd?«

»It's Sidney. Billy is the killer and you're either good at pretending to play clueless dumb, which you are though, or you're his partner. There aren't any other options.«

Sidney hated it how you pronounced her name so dumbly wrong. It's a simple name, how hard could it be to say it right? Apparently hard enough for you.

»Accusing someone, a friend even, of something so horrific is a cruel thing to do.«

»Oh? I didn't knew you could speak english without stuttering in sobbing.«

Your lips begun to wobble, biting softly onto them to stop the starting trembling—which would soon racked through your whole body. Eyes getting wet, tears ready to spill.

Sidney had no rights to accuse Billy like this and neither had she the right to be this mean to you. You hadn't done anything to make her upset, so why does she say such things?

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, gripping your arm tight when you were about to bold off.

»We both know I'm right. Whether you like it or not.«

You freed yourself from her, jerking your arm out of her grasp and bolting out of the room. At some point colliding with Jules, who was looking for you, scrambling up again and running even faster away.

A lie. It's a complete conspiracy bullshitting lie, what Sidney had said to you. It wasn't true, Billy isn't a killer.

~~~

»I'm home!« greeted Billy once he had open the front door and stepped in, closing if afterwards. Getting out of his jacket and hanging it up on, he made his way towards the kitchen.

Leaning against the frame of the kitchen-door, Billy watched you, smiling at the sight of you cooking today's lunch—dancing slightly to the music which the radio plays.

»You need help, darling?« he admits, spooking you up like this was—the way how you jerked together into surprise—always a fun thing to do.

»Oh, Billy! How was work? Sure sure, you can set the table and please get Stu« you pecked his lips, when he leaned down, snatching a piece of bacon from the cutting board.

»Where is he?«

»Upstairs, doing the laundry.« you had long returned to the cooking, resuming with what you had stopped.

Billy passed through the living room, stopping at the commode in the hallway, next to the stairs.

Photo frames over photos frames filled the commode, telling their own stories—from their graduation, first house, to marriage, to their honeymoon and then to their Kids and their first kindergarten and school day to the here and now.

There was one photo in particular, which both Stu and him are very found of. It still confuses the kids, who couldn't figure out why a photo of you crying was a found memory to keep and share.

To the kids they had told a story of how they always found it adorable, just how bunny like you were and wanted to capture the moment.

In truth though, it was the moment when the broke you—your spirit of will—and had you forever to love.

It was after Sidney had inflicted your pure heart with self-doubt and questionable unbelief towards Billy. You confronted him, breaking out in hysterical when Billy bluntly admits it with a shrug and when you were about to call the police—Stu stepped in, holding you tight in his arms as you trashed in his hold and shouting words at them you never wished to say again.

They had to break a few of your bones, scaring and threatening you completely in submissive—because if they don't, you wouldn't be able to continue with going to school with them and enjoy life, if they didn't had done it this way—they had to kill you and that would be a shame. After all you're their precious little darling.

It took a few years—after framing someone else for their killings and making Sidney an implausible witness in the polices eyes—to shape you into what your are now; a good submissive husband, who showers them in unconditionally love.

»[Name]'s adorable, isn't he Bills?« Stu trotted down the stairs, flashing a grin at Billy.

»You're right, he really is. I was just about to get you, laundry-boy«

»Funny, man. Urgh, my back hurts. I never do laundry again«

After lunch, when the kids had retired into their rooms or going out to spend time with friends. You and your husbands sat on the couch, cuddling against another and watching another round of romance movies.

Even after all these years, you couldn't stop your sensitivity and the spilling tears from your eyes.

Billy and Stu wouldn't have it any other way. They adored you how you are, in their eyes you're perfect.

»Have I told you, just how–how much I love–love you two?« you asked them in between sobs, romantic movies always made you so moody.

»You do plenty of times, precious. We love you just as much in return.«

Both Billy and Stu pressed a kiss against your lips, tasting your salty tears.

You're their little bunny.

[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

𝑨𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒚 (Final) 𝑨𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

A/N: ...i'm sorry...🥲

Summary: The death of Luke takes it toll.

TW: Grief, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide,

←  Previous Part

Word Count: 2.5k (Not proofread, we die like men 🫡Im also just too tired I'll do it eventually🤣)

Quiet.

It was so quiet.

He waited. Aemond stood at the foot of your bed waiting...he knew by the look in your eyes that you somehow knew what happened.

He waits for some sort of reaction. For you to scream or hit him. Something...anything. Your silence deafining feeling heavy on his eardrums. Giving his brain room to think and go over what happened.

He silently begs for you to say something. To snap him out of his thoughts, to help get the images out of his head. He can't bare it. Any of it. He can see the anger that creeps on to your face, the pain that is starting to bloom in your heart. Can he survive you hating him? You not loving him knowing what he has done?

What has he done?

He's not sure how long you both stay in that silence. He knows once the first words are spoken its gone forever.

Finally willing himself to speak he takes a deep breath, licking his lip.

"...Iksan vaoreznuni."[I'm sorry] That is all he says, all he can say. What else is there really for him to tell you? He killed your brother. The war has started and you are trapped here. If you weren't a prisonner before you sure are one now.

"Get out..." that is all you can bring yourself to say, and he needs to hear. Despite everything in him willing himself to stay, to fight it out with you in hopes you would forgive him by the end. He knows that ending is unlikely. He's gone and ruined everything between the two of you and for what? Revenge?

He turns and leaves your chambers, his footsteps not making a sound. Aemond would not return to his chambers that night but instead would spend his time until the morning drinking his fill. Trying to push the face of Lucerys Velaryon out of his mind. Guilt eating him alive.

He sat on the ground in the old chambers of the boy he killed.

His face painted his memory. The last look Luke had before he was torn to shreds by Vhagar...by him.

He had not meant to kill Luke. He only wished to scare him, to envoke the same fear Aemond had felt when Luke took his eye. When he was ganged up on by 4 children, his family. Aemond only ever wanted to be one of them. To train his dragon alongside his nephews and brother. But instead he was mocked and ridiculed for not having one.

He watched his father dote on his sister and nephews and ignore the family he had wanted. The sons he wanted. Though Aemond disliked his older brother he knew that the balme for the way Aegon turned out was his father's.

He chose to take another wife. It was his choice to sleep with his mother, a mere child at the time and plant his seed in her. He wanted to a boy to carry on his name and when he got one he casted them to the side and named Rhaenyra heir and "his only child.".

How was Aemond to feel? How could he not feel resentment. Nobody was here for him. Nobody breathed for him or walked this earth in his name. He had no one.

Luke had everything he had ever wanted. Love.

Hollow. That was the only way to describe how you felt. The void the death of your brother caused was not one that could easily be filled.

Morning came and you remained in the same spot Aemond had left you in. You ignored your handmaids as they came to prepare you for the day. You ignored the sounds coming from outside your window.

Your heart hurt, your chest was heavy. Lucerys was gone. He was dead. Your poor mother...and here you were. Of no use.

Tears pricked your eyes once more. You begged them not too fall. You could not bare crying again.

Your servants returned once again. Leaving a tray of food. They begged you to let them get your washed and dressed but their pleas fell on deaf ears.

You thought of every moment you ever shared with Luke. He was a sweet boy. He was your brother. The tears that fell burned your cheeks. That hole in your heart grew ever so slightly.

Your sobs filled your room.

You remained in that spot for the entirety of the day. Tears no longer falling, your stomach empty and throat dry.

You do not remember when Alicent had come in. You do not remember her giving her condolences or trying to convince you to eat.

You didn't see Aegon smirking behind his mother next to his grandfather.

You do however remember the gentle touch of Helaena. She sat next to your her hand on yours. She was never one for touch. But even she knew you needed it.

You were in an ocean of your own emotions. Sorrow. Pain. Loss. Grief. Agony. It was pure agony.

How could you go on? You feel the love still in your heart when you think of Aemond. You were digusted by it. You still loved him even after what he had done. All while you hated him.

You hated what he has done not just to look but to the two of you. How could you both move on now? How could you marry your brother's killer. The chance at happiness, the chance at the life you always dreamed of having with him were gone.

There was anguish in your throat, all the way up to your chest.

How could you save this? How could you reverse what he has done?

You do not know when you stood up. You don't remeber slipping on your robes and your shoes.

When had it gotten so dark outside?

You opened your chamber doors. Your emotions controlling your feet as you walked towards the chambers accorss from yours. The hallway empty and quiet. Where were the guards?

You opened the doors and stepped inside. You looked around everything where it was the last time Luke was here. You walked over to a chest near the fireplace and opened it. All of his toys sat inside. His drawings, his memories...but he was not here.

He was in the water...you had to get him back...he was calling you to come and get him.

You returned back to your chambers and found a quill and paper. Your final words. You wrote three letters. One for Aemond, one for your mother and one for Jace. You got dressed quickly in your riding clothes with an added black cloak.

You left the letter for Aemond on your bed.

You opened the door again and peered out. The guards still not there you walked over to a different room. Your mother's. You knew of the passages inside it. You had listened to many stories of her escapades. You left her and Daemon's letters in here. You knew they would eventually come and would find them.

Your body moved on its own. Every twist and turn. You did your best to move slowly and cautiously. As one turn brought you down another hall you heard a footstep.

Halting all movements you looked ahead. Narrowing your eyes wondering what it was. You prayed its was a rat or some sort of animal.

You see another person turn the hall. But who it is does not send you running. Helaena looks at you shocked.

What is she doing here?

She does not say anything but lowers the hood of her own cloak and walks up to you. You don't get the chance to say anything before she pulls you into a deep hug.

She knows. Of course she knows. She must have seen it and came to say goodbye. Helaena wouldn't stop you. She loved you too much to keep you here nor to alert anyone of your escape.

With a final kiss on your cheek she walks past you and makes her own way down the passages.

It took you a while to locate Vermithor but you managed. He was excited to see you but could feel the pain you felt.

You got settled onto his back and rubbed his scaly back gently. You knew where you had to go. Where you wanted to be.

The flight was smooth but long. The sun had finally rised. You knew it wouldn't be long before the castle would notcie your dissapearence. As you finally arrived you spotted something on the beach. Something dark and large. You landed near it and as you got close your heart only broke more.

Arrax's bloody wing was nestled on the sand. For what felt like the millionth time you cried. Touching the wing gently. Evidence of the crim that took place only a day ago.

Luke was here...you could feel it.

You sit on the beach, enjoying a last moment of peace.

It is quickly broken as you hear the screech of a dragon. You look up to see the giant body of vhagar approaching.

"Don't be afraid." You turn your head back in front of you in shock. Luverys stands there. His clothes drenched. "It will be alright."

He turns around and begins walking into the water. You could hear Vhagar getting closer and Aemond calling your name.

Wasting no time you follow after Luke. Your shoes pooling with water. Aemond's only gets louder as he finally lands and rushes to get unbuckles to get to you.

Panic sets into his chest as he watches you get deeper in the water.

He finally manages to get out of the straps and climbs down vhagar. He kept his eye trained on you still screaming after you as you got deeper in the water.

You had not learned how to swim. It was not a skill you needed.

But you did not fight it. You did not fight it when water pooled in your lungs. You did not regret the choice. It felt warm and right. You opened your eyes. The dark water surrounding you as you sinked deeper and deeper into its depths.

Far down below you, you could see it. You could see Luke. He was looking at you with a smile. This was right. This was what you needed. Peace.

As quickly as the Dance of Dragons started it ended. When word of your death reached the ears of Daemon there was no stopping him. He had already sent blood and cheese to avenge Luke. But now. Now he had to avenge you. His daughter.

Your mother lost any hopes of this being a peaceful war. Of their being no bloodshed. She had already lost two of her children through no decision of her own. The Greens had started this and The Blacks would end it in red.

Daemon gathered everyone he could. Whoever could ride a dragon did. Dragonseeds were located and were quickly taught to claim and dragon. Though some died in failed attempts enough suceeded. There would be no waiting. And when word reached of Aegon's party he threw in honour Aemond for killing Luke and starting the war it only made him happier for the pain Aegon would soon feel.

It was easier then they thought it would be. The amount of dragons no match for theirs. The most shocking part? Vhagar and Aemond were nowhere to be found.

The Blacks seized the castle by nightfall. By the morning Rhaenyra took her place on the throne, her fathers crown nestled on her head. Daemon had found your letters and both him, Rhaenyra and Jace read them and by the end their eyes filled with tears. Though against Daemon's judgement Rhaenyra spared Helaena. Though it would do no good. Helaena already wracked with grief would later that day throw herself from Maegor's Holdfast and die on its spikes.

Alicent would die begging her old friend. Claiming she still loved her and that she regrets her choices. Saying she had no other choice and that she only did what was expected of her.

The word Dracarys would be said three times that day. Alicent, Aegon and Otto were all sentenced to die. Rhaenyra would not kill a child though. She could not bring it in her to kill Maegor or Jahaera, the two had already suffered losing their brother. She would raise them as her own.

It wouldn't be until a week after her official crowning that word of Aemond and Vhagar were to delivered to her and her family during their meal. They were all on edge assuming the prince would be coming to burn them inside the castle.

But were shocked when they were told where he was.

Aemond had throw himself into the waters of Storm's End. He had tried to stay alive, hoping he could do good by yoru memory but it was all to much. The death of luke and now you had taken its toll. And all he wanted was to be with you.

The memory of him desperately trying to find you in the water. Trying to swim down but the instinct of survival making him swim back up. He repeated the process over and over until he simply laid on the sand.

He knew the blacks would be coming for his family now. And honestly? He could not bring himself to care. What had his family ever done for him. You were all he ever wanted and needed and he couldn't see that. There was never a need for revenge cause he had already won. He had you. You would've been married to him, spent the rest of your life with him.

How could he not see that victory? It was an easy choice. He could stay and die alongside his family or die where you were. So that's what he did, he joined you in the cold salty waters and felt the same warm embrace you did.

He had left a letter of his own. For his big sister Rhaenyra. Her hands were shaky as she opened the letter, the eyes of her family on her. Her eyebrows furred together as she began reading Her eyes pricked with tears and a sob escaped her lips as she read the first line.

"To Queen Rhaenyra."

The letter detailed how sorry Aemond was. For what he had done. He begged her forgiveness for the death of both Luke and you. He blamed himself for it all and wanted her to know he never meant for it. Rhaenyra would quietly thank her brother and prayed to the Gods that he was at peace now.

Rhaenyra was named the "The Black Queen." but also "The Merciless.". She would sit the Iron Throne and Jace after her. She would never be the same though, happiness never rteurned to her as she would dream of her two beautiful children every day.

Surrounded by clouds light and warmth. You watch. You watch your family continue on, to build, to heal. You watch with a smile.

On one side of you your brother's hand in yours as he shares the same smile. And Aemond's arms wrapped around your waist on your other side. This was peace. And you didn't regret it, not for a moment.

You were no longer in agony.

A/N: Finally finished!! I hope it wasn't shit to yall but i cried while writing this. Recently re read "Smoke, Fire and Ash" by @asumofwords and it made my cry and put me in this mood.

To be honest I always imagined reader dying in this. I just had different ways. One was her offing herself after Aemond dies above God's eye. The next option was Aemond killing her himself while drunk and blinded by pain then he would off himself when he woke up. And lastly was both of them dying together, sharing a final moment before commanding their dragons to kill them.

I did not imagine them having a happy ending. Ecspecially since reader was alwyas conflicted about her family. She did not know what side to be on, and the death of Luke would only make her more confused. So it was easier for her to just not be anything at all.

Anywho. That's it! I hope y'all enjoyed this. I do plan on writing a full Aemond x reader series but i gotta plan it out properly!

Gen Taglist: @valeskafics. @thought--bubble

Agony Taglist: @vyctorya, @cluz1babe, @alexa554, @sinistersnakey1427, @glitteryeggalmondherring

*Bold means I could not tag you.

[fantasyescapes17]

Scandal (Part 1)

The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) is beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.

Genre: Wonwoo x Female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Joshua's sibling so your last name is Hong but the reader has no other physical characteristics. Note: Certain main characters may initially seem unlikeable in this story. Redemption arcs will come.

Word Count: 6.8k+

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Series Masterlist [Reading Candle and Manners, the earlier installments in this series first is strongly recommended as main character dynamics are introduced there.]

The sheer cacophony being produced from Miss Brooke’s fingers prodding at your pianoforte was unbearable. 

You suffered silently through the onset of a headache as Miss Brooke continued to perform (the piece was not even recognizable to your ears although she was using your sheet music). The remaining occupants of the parlour conversed awkwardly over her uninspiring performance. 

Your mother- the Dowager Viscountess Hong-  derived great enjoyment from hosting other elite families for tea. Her tea parties were renowned not only for the wide array of cakes, biscuits and other delicacies served, but also her remarkable skills as a hostess. 

Presently, the evening's guests consisted of two of the ton's most elite families: the Brookes and the Jeons. Both families had eligible young women of marriageable age which factored into your mother's decision to host them. She was hoping your brother would marry by the end of the season. 

Your brother- the Viscount Joshua Hong- was seated near Miss Jeon. They chatted politely about something. The specifics of their conversation were prevented from reaching your ears by the ruckus Miss Brooke was creating on the piano. Miss Jeon was the season's promising young debutante, but it was evident that she had no particular attraction to Joshua. And Joshua's heart was already engaged elsewhere. 

That left only one other marriageable bachelor in the room. 

Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. 

He was a strange one, you decided. Mr Jeon was exceedingly handsome and always had a calm, peaceful demeanour. He spoke very little. Even now, he sat across from you and sipped his tea quietly without making any attempt at conversation. Your initial subtle attempts at flirtation had fallen quite flat.  

You had to admit that you found him rather mysterious. 

Still, you had never met a man that was completely immune to your charms. Mr. Jeon was simply a bit of a challenge. You enjoyed a challenge. 

Miss Brooke's piece at the piano finally drew to an excruciatingly slow end. Seizing the opportunity, you rose from your seat and clapped politely with a smile on your face as you approached her. 

"Thank you so much, Miss Brooke. We are so grateful to have been able to experience your playing this evening. Truly a remarkable performance," you told her graciously. 

Miss Brooke blushed. "Thank you, Miss Hong. I was considering what to play next-"

"Oh! No, I won't hear of it! You must be very tired already. I insist that you sit down and try these lemon cakes. I would be happy to continue the music in your stead," you offered. 

Miss Brooke looked put out but you firmly and politely ushered her away from the piano. You sat at your beloved instrument and let your fingers lovingly stroke the keys that Miss Brooke had abused mere moments ago. 

You never tired of showing off your performances. Your musical talents were undisputed among the members of the ton, and you were confident that there was no young woman in London who could ever rival your skill at the piano.

Surely, you thought, a display of my exquisite musical talent will be enough to gain a little attention from Mr. Jeon Wonwoo? 

You chose to perform an incredibly difficult piece that you had recently mastered. The entire room immediately ceased conversation to turn their attention to your performance. You could tell from the corner of your eye that even Mr. Jeon Wonwoo's sharp gaze was fixed on you. He was watching you intensely.

When you finished, you were treated to an enthusiastic round of applause from the entire room. Your mother spoke up to praise you. 

"Wonderful, dear. That was beautifully done," the Dowager Viscountess told you proudly. 

"That was quite delightful!" Miss Jeon was equally quick to praise your performance once you returned to your seat. "I have heard so much about your musical talents, Miss Hong, but to hear you perform in person is quite something else entirely. How much time and effort you must have put in to reach that level of skill! Was it not lovely, Wonwoo?"

You smiled to yourself, awaiting the praise that was surely to come from Mr. Jeon. You were accustomed to general admiration of your music. The young gentlemen of the ton were among your most ardent admirers.

You batted your eyelashes at him and spoke in a sweet tone. "Yes, Mr. Jeon. I am very eager to hear what you thought of my performance."

Mr. Jeon Wonwoo sipped his tea calmly. His dark eyes flickered to you and he gave you a polite, tight-lipped smile. 

"You possess great potential, Miss Hong," he replied simply.  

You could not have been more shocked if Mr. Jeon Wonwoo had chosen to throw his unfinished tea in your face. 

Potential? What on earth did he mean by that? You had been learning to play the piano since you were a small child of seven. That was a decade and a half of uninterrupted learning, of your parents hiring the best tutors and dedicating all your free time to the practice and perfection of the art. Your late father had bought you the priceless pianoforte for your twelfth birthday, and it was your most prized possession. You were undisputably the most skilled young lady in all of London and this rude, conceited, tasteless man had the audacity to tell you that you had potential?

As though you were a child? 

You had never been so affronted. 

"I have dedicated myself to learning how to play the pianoforte for over fifteen years now, Mr. Jeon," you informed him coldly. "I am certain that I have already realised my full potential. Perhaps you may wish to reserve your critical judgement in the future."

Mr. Jeon's handsome face did not flinch.  

"You asked me for my thoughts, Miss Hong," he replied in his calm, deep voice. His eyebrow was raised. "Am I to understand, then, that my criticism holds no value while my praise does? One might call that vanity."

Your cheeks turned hot in anger. How dare this tasteless man not only insult you publicly, but also accuse you of being vain and fishing for compliments?

How dare he? 

"One hardly needs to be a music aficionado to pay basic respect to the quality of a performance, Mr. Jeon. I believe even my dog knows good music when he hears it-"

Viscount Hong interrupted the rapidly escalating conversation with a laugh and made a tangential comment about a hunting expedition that he planned to undertake with some other gentlemen. You leaned back in your seat and fumed silently for the rest of the evening until the Jeons and Brookes finally took their leave. 

"Joshua," you told your elder brother once the guests had departed. "I hope you have not developed any affection towards Miss Jeon because I forbid that family from being invited to our home again. I have never been so insulted in my life!"

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "Your performance was lovely, sister. You should not let the opinion of others affect you."

You turned to your mother. 

"Mother! Was Mr. Jeon not excessively rude to me earlier?" you demanded validation. "Have you ever known someone to openly insult my performance- as a guest in our home, no less?"

Your mother gave you a sympathetic smile. "It does not appear that Mr. Jeon has a discerning ear for music, my darling. But do not fret. If you do not wish to see him again then we need not host the Jeons any more this season. There are plenty of other young gentlemen among the ton who would suit you much better."

You smiled and embraced your mother. 

"You are so good to me, mother. Shall I play you another piece before dinner?"

"I would love that, my dear."

—-------------------------------------------------------

True to her word, your mother did not attempt to host the Jeons again. Any formal invitations to tea were restricted to the female members of the Jeon family- among whom Miss Jeon, you discovered, was a polite and friendly young woman.

You were fortunate to see very little of Mr. Jeon Wonwoo over the next few weeks. While his sister made a splash upon her entrance in society with her pretty manners and success at balls, Mr. Jeon himself was not easy to spot at social events. He would indulge in one or two dances at most and not be seen for the rest of the evening.  

It was for the best, since the passage of time had not diminished your anger towards him in the slightest. 

"Your post has arrived, Miss Hong," the maid told you as she came in with a tray of letters while you were at breakfast with your mother and brother. 

The Dowager Viscountess raised an eyebrow. 

"That is a lot of correspondence, my dear," your mother commented as you carelessly opened the letters one-by-one and glanced at them briefly before tossing them aside. "Who are you writing to?"

"I am not writing to anyone. These are from some gentlemen I danced with at the Hessington's ball last week. Mr. Carter writes to me regularly and of late I've received correspondence from Baron Wright, the Park brothers, and a few others…."

"So many admirers!"

You rolled your eyes. It was not surprising. These men were only interested in your status and fortune, though one would not think so from the romantic prose and lavish gifts they sent you on a regular basis. One of the envelopes contained a gift of expensive silk ribbon. Another contained an exquisitely carved handheld mirror. 

You gestured to your maid to take the gifts away before continuing to open the envelopes. 

"Oh, look- Mr. Carter has written a lovely little poem. You should use that, Joshua. It might help you woo Miss Lee."

Joshua did not look at the letter you passed him. 

"I am capable of drafting my own correspondence with Miss Lee, sister, thank you," he told you firmly. 

You were not convinced. "If you had written her a few poems like this before you raced off to her home to ask for her hand in marriage…"

Joshua sighed."Yes, yes, all right. That is enough."

"Oh dear," you mumbled as you opened the last letter. "Baron Wright says he intends to call upon me today. He is quite unbearable. I must not be at home- Minnie! It is lovely weather for a walk in the park. Will you help me find that pretty blue summer dress? And we shall take Snowball with us."

Your maid nodded. "Of course, miss."

You enjoyed the fresh air. Since you spent hours every day in front of the piano, it was rare to have a chance to promenade in the park with your furry companion. Snowball- your adorable fluffy white Pomeranian- trotted alongside you cheerfully on her leash and your ladies’ maids followed you at a polite distance. 

"Miss, you must walk in the shade," your maid insisted. "It is very bright outside and the direct sun may burn your skin…"

You conceded, teetering a little off the path so that you and your maids could walk in the shade of the trees lining the park. You paused suddenly when you noticed a gentleman and lady strolling in your direction. 

You recognised them both.

The man was Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. The mere sight of his handsome, unsmiling face was enough to make your blood boil. Wonwoo had no business looking so deceptively charming in a dark brown riding coat that emphasised his broad shoulders- the uncultured swine. 

You would have walked past him without acknowledging his presence if it had been up to you. But unfortunately, you were not afforded this option. The lady accompanying him was your cousin-Miss Ella Williams- and she smiled and waved as soon as she recognised you. 

"Cousin!" Ella called out cheerfully as she hurried down the path to greet you. Mr. Jeon followed her. His long legs allowed him to cover the distance in casual, effortless strides. 

"Ella," you greeted your cousin warily. You were forced to acknowledge her walking companion. "And Mr. Jeon Wonwoo, if I remember correctly? I see you are out for a stroll."

Ella smiled. "Indeed. I was on a walk with Miss Jeon but we were joined by Mr. Jeon and Mr. Yoon. The path is narrow so I am afraid that the others have fallen a little behind. Mr. Jeon- please allow me to introduce you to my cousin, Miss Hong."

Wonwoo’s expression was emotionless as always. 

“We are already acquainted,” he replied shortly. 

"I see you and Snowball have come to promenade as well. Is the weather not perfectly lovely? It is a wonderful sunny day," Ella gushed.

"It was when I arrived. But there seems to be a rather ugly dark cloud crossing my path at the moment," you quipped with a sharp glance at Mr. Jeon. 

The sky was clear and blue.  

Mr. Jeon fixed his dark eyes upon you. He seemed annoyed. "Perhaps a dark cloud now and then is inevitable in life, Miss Hong. The sky cannot cater to your personal desires," he remarked. 

You scoffed. "So long as the cloud learns its place and does not rain down upon those of us attempting to enjoy our day; I shall have no objections to the existence of the cloud."

Ella looked bewildered. "What cloud-"

She was interrupted by a sharp tug on your leash. Snowball had grown impatient while standing in one place and darted forwards to sniff at Mr. Jeon's shoes. 

Mr. Jeon looked surprised. It was the closest thing to an emotion you had seen on his serious face- but he did not move away from the dog.

"Snowball, no!" you cried. Snowball was beginning to wag his tail and you could not imagine the mortification you would feel if your dog expressed any affection towards the man you were clearly attempting to snub. 

You reached down and picked Snowball up quickly before he could embarrass you. He let out a small whine but relaxed in your arms. 

Ella laughed. “Oh, that is all right, cousin! I am sure Mr. Jeon does not mind dogs- do you, Mr. Jeon?” 

“I consider them to be excellent companions,” Mr. Jeon replied simply. 

"And I think he is adorable," Ella insisted as she reached forward to pat Snowball's head. "I wish my mother would allow me to have a dog, but she insists that the fur makes her ill. Will you allow me to walk him sometime?"

"Anytime you like, dear cousin."

Ella's eyes suddenly widened as she remembered something. "Oh, but cousin, you must tell me- I have heard that the Viscount is courting Miss Lee! I was quite surprised. Can it be true? Will they be married?"

You stiffened. You were aware of Joshua's affections for Miss Lee; their courtship was the hottest gossip among the ton at the moment, largely because Miss Lee was from a humble background and did not possess either status or dowry to match your family's. 

You had spoken to Miss Lee at the Hessington's ball. She was kind-hearted and a perfect choice for Joshua, but did not seem confident in her ability to become a Viscountess. You were not certain that she would accept your brother's proposal. 

"It remains to be seen," you replied lightly. You did not want to confirm rumours until the success or failure of their courtship was more evident to you.

"You do not think she is a good match for Joshua?" Ella wondered. 

"We shall have to see," you said vaguely. "Decisions such as these should not be made in haste. Not everyone is suited to become a Viscountess."

Mr. Jeon's dark eyes were still on you. His jaw was clenched; he looked displeased. 

"Do you disagree, Mr. Jeon?" you demanded. 

"I do not think it is your place to assess who is suited to become the Viscountess," he replied stiffly. "I am sure your brother is more than capable of making such decisions on his own."

You laughed. Your brother had made plenty of poor choices in Miss Lee's case- including springing a proposal on the poor girl without giving her any hint of his affections for her and failing to realise how she would be affected by the gossip.

"You overestimate my brother, Mr. Jeon. He is perfectly capable of making mistakes, like any other gentleman," you replied. 

"A gentleman will deal with the consequences of his own actions- whether they be mistakes or otherwise," Mr. Jeon retorted. 

You stared at him, bewildered. What was he going on about? You had no idea why Jeon Wonwoo was so invested in Joshua's courtship with Miss Lee, but you refused to let this odious man have the last word.

"It seems you have a high opinion of my brother," you snapped. "But I am sorry to inform you that the decisions made by a Viscount do not impact him alone. Forgive me if I do not want my brother to make mistakes that would cause pain to those around him."

Ella looked distressed at the turn the conversation was taking. 

"Cousin, I am sure there is no question of the Viscount making any mistakes. Let us speak of something else," she pressed. 

"Yes, of course. Men must never be questioned by women when they make mistakes," you replied drily while glaring at Mr. Jeon. "How foolish of me to think otherwise."

Mr. Jeon raised an eyebrow. "Miss Hong, it was never my intention to suggest that-"

"Frankly, Mr. Jeon, I have no interest in what you intended to suggest. I did not ask for your opinion; I shall certainly not make that mistake twice. You may rest knowing that your silence pleases me well enough. Please do not trouble yourself with speech."

Ella was shocked. "Cousin!"

"Snowball is quite tired and we must be returning home now. I will take your leave.  Good day, Ella. Mr. Jeon."

You walked away, your cheeks hot with anger. Who did Mr. Jeon Wonwoo think he was? It is not your place to assess who is suited to be a Viscountess? As though a sister being concerned for her brother's marriage was overstepping her bounds? How dare he speak to you that way? 

One thing was certain. You were not as kind and forgiving as your brother. 

Jeon Wonwoo would regret making an enemy of you.

—-------------------------------------------

"Miss Hong, you have the most exquisite taste in fashion! These gowns are so striking!" Miss Brooke cried. 

You were having tea with some of the other young ladies of the ton when your latest shipment from the modiste arrived- a large collection of custom-made ball gowns, hats, and shoes that you had ordered recently. 

"This one is my own personal design," you boasted as Miss Brooke admired a particularly gorgeous lavender gown with a delicately embroidered skirt. "I ordered it specially for my brother's wedding and I am having a pair of shoes custom-made to match."

“It is a masterpiece!” 

You sipped your tea and leaned back as Miss Brooke, Miss Hessington and Miss Jeon continued to compliment and admire your new gowns. You had spent a considerable amount of time preparing the designs and discussing them with the modiste. The admiration of the other young ladies was sufficient recompense for your efforts. 

Let it never be said that Miss Hong was not the best-dressed young lady in the room.

Just as Miss Brooke pulled out an exquisite handmade silk shawl from the boxes stacked on the tea table, your brother appeared at the doorway of the tea parlour. 

"Ladies," Viscount Hong greeted the other young women in the room with a handsome smile before turning to you. "I apologise for interrupting your tea. Sister- if I could have a word in the hall?"

You followed him into the hallway outside. 

"Joshua? Is there a problem?"

Joshua had a small stack of papers in his hand. He showed them to you calmly. "These are the bills I have received from the modiste, the shoemaker and the jeweller," he informed you. 

You blinked at him. "All right. What is the problem? Send the clerk to pay them."

"Do you not think some of these are a little extravagant, sister? This single ball-gown of yours costs as much as the Arabian horse I had shipped from overseas," Joshua pointed out. 

"It is custom-made. The silk is imported from India so it has travelled the same distance. If we can afford the horse, then I fail to see the problem with the dress," you replied defensively.

Joshua shook his head and sighed. "Do not mistake me, sister. I am not angry. I only want to be sure that you are conscious of your spending habits."

"Are my gowns putting a dent in the Hong family fortune?" you asked with a laugh. 

"You know they are not."

"Then what do you want from me?"

"I would like you to acknowledge that regardless of our ability to pay for them, perhaps it is not necessary to spend so much money on a dress that you shall only wear on a single occasion. I ask you to exercise a little restraint.”

“Yes, yes, all right," you told him dismissively. "The season is nearing an end so this was my final order. We shall be returning to the countryside after your wedding, in any case."

"Glad to hear it."

"Have you ordered your wedding things? You know the modiste takes over a week for wedding orders- particularly the wedding gowns."

Joshua blinked. "Wedding gown?"

You gasped. "Joshua! Your wedding is in less than a fortnight, are you telling me that an order has not been placed for Miss Lee's wedding gown? What on earth is the matter with you?"

Joshua looked flustered. "I-I assumed Miss Lee would arrange her own wedding gown-"

"Miss Lee's family cannot afford a wedding gown fit for a Viscountess! And she is so humble she would never ask you for such a thing- it was your responsibility to offer! You must place a deposit with the modiste immediately and I will take Miss Lee there myself to select the design this evening. You are fortunate that I am the modiste's valued customer."

Joshua nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yes-yes, I will do that…"

"And none of that restraint, please. Sell one of the Arabians if you must," you added with a giggle. 

Your brother hurried away and you re-entered the parlour where the young ladies were still discussing your silk shawls.

You re-seated yourself in an armchair. 

"Is everything all right, Miss Hong?" Miss Jeon asked politely. 

"Yes- my brother needed some help with the arrangements for his wedding. Gentlemen are very lucky to have sisters to rely on in certain matters," you said lightly before glancing at Miss Jeon. "Would you not agree, Miss Jeon?"

Miss Jeon shook her head. "I am sure I rely on my brother far more than he relies on me."

"But of course. Mr Jeon Wonwoo is a different case altogether. I gather he does not need your help in matters of the heart, since he openly refuses to court anyone," you quipped.

Miss Jeon did not seem worried. "I am sure he will find a young lady he is interested in someday."

"I hope that the young lady is not too fond of polite conversation, then, since Mr. Jeon will surely not indulge in any," you replied. "Was it not just last week, Miss Brooke, that you told me Mr. Jeon danced with you and did not speak a single word for the entire duration of the dance?"

Miss Brooke smiled awkwardly. "Yes…"

"And Miss Hessington, did you not tell me that you attempted to converse with him at the assembly rooms and he did not even look up from the book he was reading to greet you?"

Miss Hessington nodded. 

"Wonwoo does not speak much," Miss Jeon admitted with an awkward laugh. 

"Perhaps that is for the best," you replied airily. "I am quite offended by what little he has spoken to me thus far. If he spoke more often, I imagine he would soon gain many enemies among the ton."

"I apologise for his actions, Miss Hong-"

You brushed her off kindly. "Not at all, Miss Jeon; you are a dear friend. I would not dream of holding you responsible for your brother's behaviour. He shall carry that burden entirely on his own."

"Are there any gentlemen among the ton that have caught your eye, Miss Hong?" Miss Brooke wondered. "I notice that Baron Wright seems to be quite set on you. You often dance with Mr. Carter as well."

"We shall see," you replied lightly. "Since the season is coming to an end and I will be returning to the countryside soon, it is a perfect time to test a man's so-called affections. Only those who maintain their correspondence with me over the winter will remain candidates for my hand next season."

Miss Jeon giggled. "Then may we expect to see another wedding in the Hong family next season?"

"... Perhaps so."

—----------------------------------------------------------

Viscount Joshua Hong's wedding was a grand success, in no small part thanks to you.

The bride's wedding gown was greatly admired by the entire ton and Miss Lee thanked you for your efforts toward ensuring they had a smooth ceremony. The happily married couple left for their honeymoon immediately after. You returned with your mother to the Hongs' countryside estate for the winter. 

It was a quiet winter without your brother at home. You spent most evenings practising music by the fireplace and reading and writing your correspondence. Baron Wright and Mr. Carter were both quite serious about their affections for you, and you wondered if perhaps one of them would approach the Viscount for your hand as soon as your family was back in London for the next season.

You could not decide if you cared enough to marry either of them. But you were already in your third season, and now with your brother married too, the clock was ticking. Luckily, you had the entire ton to choose from. You doubted there was a single unattached man who would not welcome your affections if you chose to bestow them upon him. 

Except perhaps Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. 

But as always, he was the exception to the rule. 

You were pleased to return to London after the end of winter. Your sister-in-law, the new Viscountess, was equally excited. She had fully embraced her new role as your brother’s wife, and seemed much happier and brighter by his side than she had ever appeared before.

It almost made you envious of their marital bliss. 

“I hope you will find someone who makes you as happy as Joshua makes me,” the Viscountess gushed as the servants hurried to unpack your belongings and set up your London home for the new season. “Marriage really is quite wonderful and I would love for you to experience it, sister.” 

“Well, I must find the right man,” you reminded her. “And more importantly, I must find the right dress for the ball that the Duchess of Graham is hosting tomorrow. It is going to be the most spectacular event of the season and I cannot afford to look anything but my best.”

“You always look beautiful.” 

“Your words flatter me, sister; but it is your first public appearance as the Viscountess and you must be equally careful. Perhaps a trip to the modiste is in order?” 

The Viscountess smiled. “Perhaps it is.”

—------------------------------------------------

It was not easy to be the centre of attention at the Duchess of Graham’s ball.

The beginning of a new season came with so much fresh gossip and juicy rumours that it was impossible to keep track of it all. Whispers abounded from the moment you descended your carriage and entered the Duchess’ palatial London manor. 

“The youngest Miss Yoon is the most awaited debutante of the season,” your cousin Ella Williams informed you as you both took a turn about the beautiful ballroom. The dancing had not yet begun. You were taking the opportunity to admire the sheer magnificence of the Duchess’ manor.

It was beyond anything you had seen before. 

“Miss Yoon?” you asked. “Mr. Yoon Jeonghan’s younger sister?”

“She is rumoured to be a great beauty. And now that the messy issue of her dowry is resolved and her fortune restored, I expect she will be receiving her fair share of offers.” 

You nodded. “I would like to meet this young woman. But first, Ella, tell me about the Duchess. I knew she was rich and had connections to the royal family but… the extravagance of this manor! It is at least three times the size of any other home I have seen in London, including my own.” 

Ella nodded eagerly as you both admired an enormous marble statue in the entryway to the ball room. 

“Of course. The Grahams have historically been very intimate with the royal family and their fortune is beyond comparison. But the Duke of Graham left no male heirs. When he died last year, the title should have died with him- but the Queen herself decreed as a special exception that the title would continue through his only daughter.” 

Your eyes widened. “Fascinating. I am sure this has never happened before."

“Indeed. It was quite the controversy. Much of the nobility was displeased with a woman being able to hold a title without the support of a man. They insisted that she produce a male heir at the soonest. It is rumoured that the Duchess intends to marry soon. Perhaps this season.`` 

You sighed. “I wish she wouldn’t. It is quite nice to have a Duchess in her own right.” 

“I agree. But she has not shown any interest in the gentlemen of the ton, so perhaps she will marry someone from the royal family instead. A Prince? Anything is possible, really,” Ella gushed excitedly. “As for the manor, it has been in the Graham family for many generations. Much of the furniture is antique and gifted by the royal family. I have heard the library has an antique pianoforte which was gifted hundreds of years ago by the King himself.” 

Your eyes sparkled. “A pianoforte, you say?”

“Perhaps the oldest still in existence in London.” 

Your interest was piqued. 

“Ella- I must see this pianoforte,” you decided.  

Ella laughed. “Unfortunately, cousin, I am not entirely sure where it is. The library is upstairs but I have never been to this manor before. I have heard that your brother is acquainted with the Duchess. Perhaps if you ask her permission…” 

You shook your head. “Ask her? She is the hostess of the ball, we should never have a chance to speak to her tonight. Look at the size of this event! Nobody would notice if we slipped upstairs in between a few dances. The staircase is not even blocked.” 

Ella was startled. “We?”

“I cannot go alone!” you cried. 

“But-but…” 

“I will grant you any wish within my power, Ella,” you promised your cousin as you seized her hand and pressed it tightly. “You may choose any dress from my wardrobe- even the ones I have not yet worn. Take your pick from my jewellery box. I simply must be able to lay my fingers on this historical piano.” 

Ella laughed and removed her hand from your grasp. “All right. You are lucky that this is the first ball of the season and all the attention is focused on the Duchess and the new debutantes.”

“Show me your dance card,” you insisted, seizing the little card tied to your cousin’s wrist. “You are unoccupied for the third dance, as am I. We will meet near those stairs at the beginning of the third dance and slip upstairs. I am promised to dance with Baron Wright for the fourth- so we must find the piano and return to the ballroom by then.” 

Ella giggled. “All right, cousin. But keep your promise. I intend to take the lavender dress you wore to the Viscount’s wedding.” 

“It is yours.” 

���--------------------------------------------------------------

You danced the first two dances of the evening with Mr. Carter and Mr. Hessington. Both of whom were very vocal about their admiration for you. You accepted their advances with your usual coolness and light flirtation.

You were still deciding which of your admirers to properly encourage. For now, you would keep your options open. 

The moment the second dance ended, you hurried to the foot of the grand marble staircase. Ella was nowhere to be seen. You waited impatiently for your younger cousin, but the enormous grandfather clock in the foyer continued to tick and after a few minutes, you could hear the opening notes of the third dance beginning in the ballroom.

You were running out of time. Where was Ella? 

You made a quick decision- surely there would be nobody upstairs except for a servant or two? The ball was in full swing here anyway. You could be up and back down in a matter of minutes. 

It would be fine. 

You lifted your skirts and ran up the stairs. At the top was an enormous landing and, as you expected, not a single person in sight. You walked down a hallway of enormous, studded half-open doors until you finally found the library. The high walls were lined with shelf after shelf of books rising into the air. 

In the centre of the room- an enormous white pianoforte. 

You walked towards the instrument and sat down before it with your heartbeat thudding. You were no stranger to expensive instruments but this was undoubtedly the most beautiful one that you had ever seen in your life. It was delicately hand-carved and the quality was evident from the moment you gently brushed your fingers over the keys. 

“Beautiful,” you whispered to yourself before pressing your fingers down to play a chord. The noise was strange and jarring. 

“That is disappointing,” a voice said from behind you.

You almost screamed in shock. You had not realised that there was anyone else in the room with you. You jumped up from the piano and whirled around to see Mr. Jeon Wonwoo was standing in the shadow of one of the bookshelves, leaning against it with a book in his hand. 

“Mr. Jeon?” you demanded. 

He stepped forward from the shadow. Mr. Jeon looked as handsome as ever-  his dark hair fell forward barely brushing his eyes and he looked less… serious than he normally did. The corner of his lips were turned up in an almost-smile. 

“Miss Hong,” he greeted. 

“I-I did not see that you were already in the room,” you stammered quickly. “You should have announced your presence to me. What are you doing up here?” 

Mr. Jeon held up the book in his hand. “Reading.” 

“And avoiding the ball, I see, as always. I suppose you consider yourself far too superior to the young ladies here to bestow them with the gift of your presence,” you replied snidely. “Shall I thank you for deigning to speak to me today?” 

He blinked. “No thanks is necessary.” 

“Excellent. Then I shall ask you to please leave. It is quite improper for us to be alone together here.” 

Mr. Jeon smirked lightly. “Leave? Miss Hong, I am afraid that I was here long before you. By the common rules of courtesy, if you do not wish to be in my presence then you are very welcome to leave yourself. The door is open.”

This infuriating man simply would not let you be.  

You glanced at the enormous grandfather clock in the corner of the room. You could still hear the faint notes of music coming from the ballroom below, but time was running out. You had no idea when you would have another chance to experience this instrument. Mr. Jeon would not ruin this for you. 

“I am sure you have been to hundreds of libraries, Mr. Jeon, but this instrument is one of the oldest antique pianofortes in London. I only wanted a few moments alone with it, if you would be so kind.” 

Mr. Jeon’s eyes flickered towards the instrument. 

“It looks antique but the noise it made just now was quite awful,” he remarked.   

You huffed and pressed some of the keys again. The noise was still awkward. “It is simply not tuned. Evidently nobody has played it in a long time. The fact that you could not tell leads me to believe that your knowledge and appreciation for music is much lower than I originally imagined.”

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Why? Because I would not compliment your performance last year?” he demanded.

“It was an excellent performance,” you said defensively, anger rising. “Regardless of whether you are willing to accept it or not, Mr. Jeon. I can allow for differences in personal taste, but there is some objectivity in the field that deems me more than a mere child with potential.” 

 Mr. Jeon closed the book in his hands and stepped closer to you. “The problem was not your performance.” 

“Oh?” you demanded. 

“No. Your performance was masterful. I am afraid what you failed to realise is that your self-indulgent display of talent left your friend, Miss Brooke, almost in tears,” Mr. Jeon replied. His dark eyes narrowed and he crossed the library towards you in long, effortless strides. You felt your heart constrict in your chest. 

“What?” you demanded, confused.

“You are evidently the better musician. But what I found distasteful, Miss Hong, is how you felt the need to make a spectacle of Miss Brooke by showing the entire room just how superior you were to her. That was a selfish, vain, tactless thing to do to a young lady who believes herself to be your friend.” 

“Miss Brooke made a spectacle of herself,” you snapped. “She should have known better than to perform for company when she can barely produce a recognizable nursery rhyme from the piano!” 

Mr. Jeon shook his head. “You could have ended it there. Perhaps even closed the instrument for the evening. But you had to outperform her by playing your most difficult piece. You used her to satisfy your vanity.” 

You could not help it- you laughed. You could not believe the audacity of this man, after all this time, to defend his actions in this manner. You were becoming angrier and angrier.

Your cheeks felt hot and your fists clenched. 

“Are you telling me, Mr. Jeon,” you asked as you laughed in disbelief. “That your blatant public insult of my performance while you were a guest in my home was an act of chivalry in defence of a slight you perceived against Miss Brooke? You are mad. Really, you must be quite mad to think that is even remotely an appropriate defence for your actions-”

“And you must be very proud indeed, to allow such a minor slight to make you so angry after all these months” Mr. Jeon replied with a smirk.

He was standing in front of the instrument now, mere feet away from you. 

You scoffed as you stepped forward again. You would not back down from this man. 

“Yes, of course. Yes, please, Mr. Jeon, I would love to hear more about my pride from the man who infamously hides in libraries during balls and snubs every young lady that crosses his path. Do you consider women beneath your notice? But of course- why should Mr. Jeon Wonwoo bother with polite conversation with stupid young ladies when he is evidently so superior in intellect and manner to our entire sex,” you hissed. 

His eyes looked wild for a moment; you had never seen so much emotion in Mr. Jeon’s eyes and you could hear your own blood pumping in your ears from anger as you stared back at him. You were barely a foot apart and you could see the way his chest heaved up and down underneath his black coat. 

The room was filled with a complete silence. 

Silence. 

The faint music from the ballroom below had stopped. 

Suddenly, a number of things occurred in the flash of a single moment. 

You realised that the third dance had ended and you had spent too long upstairs. There was the sound of footsteps outside the partially open library door. Jeon Wonwoo looked startled- he suddenly took a step back to put some distance between you, but his foot caught on the leg of the pianoforte and his arm came down upon the keys to steady himself. 

You darted forward to steady him but it was too late. His palm had already hit the keys by the time you seized his arm and the loud, jarring piano noise was released into the silent room with no chance of concealment. 

The door to the library burst open. 

Oh no. Oh no no no no. 

You were ruined. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 20.

Summary: The evening of the Arts Collective dinner somehow gets even worse for you as Farleigh gives you some unfortunate news about Oliver and Venetia and their moonlight exploits. The worst part is having to figure out a way to break the news to Felix.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: angst, mentions of childhood/ongoing parental neglect.

A/N: 3729 words. I finally cracked it!! Figured out the ending!! Sorry for the delay I was busy writing 20k about Jacob Elordi being hot and mean which I will never publish (Euphoria, a show I STILL have not watched beyond like 20 minutes of clips on YouTube lol). Anyways I've missed you and these characters and hopefully 21 won't be too far away xx (also I started my new job so that's been exciting but also Ooft ouch my bones hurt)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

For a day that was already pretty damn shit, Oliver's cruelty was like salt in the wound. Hand still on the doorknob after you close it, you listen to him retreating over the ringing in your ears. If you let go, you'll see your hands shake, so you're frozen, heart in your throat, the house growing quiet around you. It's familiar, but unwelcome in this moment.

Tears well in your eyes as you sit back at the desk, computer humming pleasantly, bathing you in a cool glow. Part of you was desperate to run after him, to oblige him, to reveal every inch of your past and soul to him, hoping he was true to his word. That he could actually care about you in a way that very few have ever bothered to. That he could love you the way Felix did.

I don't know you.

An even stronger part of you wanted to run right across the hall, to bury yourself beneath the covers of your bed, safe and waiting for Felix. Surely he'd be back soon, if Oliver's return indicated anything. You hadn't heard him return, but it wouldn't be long. But how were you meant to look at him, lie next to him, even touch him, after all of that. It had been easy to bite your tongue on your disappointment so far, knowing that like so many others, Oliver's love for you thus far had been merely as a proxy for Felix himself. You knew Felix was vaguely aware that that was how others sometimes viewed you, but you'd always been eager to assure him that as long as he genuinely cared about you, and the others were good to you, you'd be more than happy.

And that used to be true. But none of the others were Oliver. Felix knew you loved the boy just as genuinely as he was coming to, you could never tell him that your affections were not as genuinely returned.

Your pride held you hostage in this room on both accounts.

When you finally raise your head from your hands, scrubbing unspilled tears from your eyes, you try and focus yourself once more on rereading the email that had already put you in a foul mood before Oliver had made it worse. It had taken all afternoon to detach yourself from it's contents, especially knowing your mother was waltzing about the grounds, spoiling your sanctuary.

The details of an official nondisclosure agreement, sent from your parents' team of lawyers. The paperwork was to arrive in the next few days, but you were being warned ahead of time. Before Oliver had interrupted, you were finally getting to the point of finding it all funny, that they were that insistent on cutting social ties with you that they'd go to almost any lengths that remained discrete, and out of the general public's reach. Now it just... ached.

Felix's heavy footsteps echo through the long gallery outside your study door, but he heads straight into bed. You wonder if it's even worth it to head to bed that night, you can't see yourself getting much sleep.

Now mostly, tragically, sober after you'd spent the afternoon trying to get out of your mind to cope with the day, you wonder if a drink would help put you to sleep, put an end to this abysmal day you'd endured. Which is how Farleigh finds you in the Blue Room, frowning at the bottle of liquor you'd left in the broken piano.

"You're up late," you mused flatly, still trying to decide if it was worth it to drink until you pass out in your study, "how was the -"

"We need to talk," Farleigh's tone is even more irate than you'd expected. Neither he nor the Catton siblings were ever in a particularly bright mood after being forced into any kind of proximity with your mother, and you were always touched by their loyalty, but this was something else.

You lower the piano lid, leaving the liquor for the time being. Turning to look at Farleigh, it's almost shocking to see how dark the look in his eyes was.

"What... happened?" You asked slowly. Farleigh's gaze flicks to the door behind you, to the long gallery and to the entrance to both yours and Oliver's bedrooms. Prying eyes, listening ears, though you were almost certain you'd heard Oliver leave not too long ago. A muscle in Farleigh's jaw twitches, and you instead offer your study for some privacy.

"You're not going to like it," is the first thing Farleigh tells you once the study door is closed. He sounds furious. Turning off your computer monitor, you choose to sit yourself on the sofa by the window, looking at him expectantly.

"This day's been a fucking nightmare already, I'm sure I can handle it," you rolled your eyes. Farleigh, however, chooses to sit at your desk, sideways on the chair, rather than joining you.

"You told Oliver not to fuck around with Venetia, didn't you?" It's unsettling to see Farleigh so serious. Still, his words have something twisting in your gut, even as you tried to play it off.

"Of course I did."

"Then tell me why I saw them practically eating each other on the front fucking lawn."

It's like you can feel the moment your blood turns to ice in your veins.

"This isn't funny," your lip curls, but Farleigh's severity remains, "this is a sick fucking joke, Farleigh, and a shitty thing to try and pull today of all goddamn days," your voice is rising, but he lets your fury build, uninterrupted.

"It would be an awful joke," he agreed, "if I was joking." All of the hopelessness that had plagued you since Oliver had left began to crystalise, calcifying into rage as his words settled in, "I don't care about Oliver," Farleigh's gaze shifted for a moment, still tense and furious, but there was something very nearly apologetic in his next words, "but unfortunately for me and for you right now, I care about you and Felix."

"Felix." Oh God. This couldn't be happening again. You'd told Oliver; you'd warned him. The fucking nerve!

"Yeah," Farleigh mutters quietly, "and you're going to be the one to tell him." When you try and protest, you're met with a sharp glare, and a stern reminder of how this exact situation had been reversed only twelve months ago over Eddie, "I'm not doing that again," Farleigh warned, "you owe me."

"Fine," you spit, "fuck, I'll tell him," hands shaking, you light up a cigarette. Farleigh stands, but hovers by your desk for a moment.

"He really knows how to pick them," He muses flatly.

"Shocking taste in men," scowling our of the window, your agreement is nonetheless irate, "fucking unbelievable," you hissed under your breath, "and he thinks there's something wrong with me?"

"There is," Farleigh's words surprise you, stinging a little, all things considered, "you fell for that stupid, little boy too," he reminds with a particularly vicious look.

"So it's my fault I have to break Felix's heart?"

"I'm saying that you've given me a lot of attitude for not liking him, but Oliver wouldn't even be here without both of you."

"Get the fuck out of my study, Farleigh," you order, pointing at the door, cigarette in hand and fury in your eyes.

The anger bubbling in your gut is beginning to burn. A thousand things are racing through your mind; top of the list is wondering just how quickly you make sure he's never welcomed back at Oxford. All you'd need was your computer and an hour to ruin Oliver Quick's entire life; you'd done it before. But if you turned that monitor on, if you had to once again look at that fucking email from your family - not even your family, their lawyers! - you think you might throw up. Tomorrow, with a clear head, you'd make your move.

And you'd tell Felix. No need to wake him now, give him a few hours to still live in the fantasy where the boy he was falling in love with wasn't once again going after his sister. Fuck- Venetia.

The more you thought about it all the more frenzied your outrage became. She wasn't innocent in this either, she never was. Venetia Catton was more than adept at finding both yours and her brother's exact pressure points and pressing with vehemence. So desperate to be loved yet so unable to come across as anything but insatiable, she'd always taken what she could get. You were good, but clearly you weren't enough to distract her from new, shiny Oliver.

The taste of smoke sticks to your teeth, as does your sour contemplation on how little the people you tried to love respected you. Or Felix. Christ, how were you meant to tell Felix?

Except you can't even really begin to contemplate how you'll break the news when you hear footsteps across the gallery.

Felix doesn't even knock - not that he ever has - before he lets himself in. You thought you'd have more time; the anger still burns white-hot inside of you, but despair and guilt flickers at the edges. He looks about as rough as you feel, concern and ebbing irritation in his expression. Of course, he'd spent the evening in the presence of your mother; none of the others ever felt nearly as much ire in her presence as he did.

Without a word, he strides across the room, all but pouting, and throws himself onto the sofa beside you. Drawing his legs up onto the sofa, he makes himself as small as possible - quite a task considering his size compared to the small, squashy sofa - and leans against you, head on your shoulder.

"Hate that woman," he hisses under his breath. You know he means your mother, but your mind is on his deceitful sister. All you can think about is Venetia and Oliver, but you can't very well tell Felix now. You don't have the words to not make everything so much worse if you tried. Already you'd decided to tell him in the morning, but right now you had to keep him from figuring out what was bothering you. Or that you were bothered at all.

So you decide to take a leaf out of Felix's own book, keep him happy and distracted in the way you knew best.

"Bad night?" Your voice is low as you move your arm back, fingers carding through his hair. The way Felix hums is still dark, but he shifts closer to you. After another moment of quiet, he huffs an irate breath out through his nose and begins to pluck at the hem of your shorts.

"Can I maim your mum the next time I see her?"

"She's not worth going to jail over," you tell him, leg shifting into his touch. Felix's hand stops fussing with your shorts to grip your thigh.

"You are," he huffs resolutely, and even despite your own anger you smile.

"My knight in shining armour," you laugh softly, lips against his forehead, "but do you really want to be so far away?" Leaning back against him, your hand moves from his hair to graze your nails down his bare arm, hoping he takes the hint. Thankfully, he does. The warm grip on your thigh tightens, and when he turns to look at you, there's something hungry in his eyes, "she's not worth your time, Fi," it comes out almost as a snarl, a truth you believe even in the depths of your own, otherwise mostly unrelated anger, but you turn your tone teasing, smirking at him, "I just choose to think about how I was apparently on your mind all night."

"I'm always thinking about you," he almost sounds a little breathless as he says it, managing to sit up more properly without moving away. You let your gaze flick to his lips before going back to look him in the eyes. Tongue darting out to wet your lips, you tilt your head very slightly, beginning to smile.

"And what are you think about me now?"

You'd always quietly loved whenever Felix was feeling possessive, and now moreso than ever. It made distracting him easy and fun, and Felix himself, his hands as he pulled you over to straddle his lap, to hold you close, to cradle your face as he kissed you so furiously, it was almost enough to distract you too. In all honesty, it was the only good thing to have happened all day, though even this was coloured by guilt, knowing what you still had to tell him when you found the right words.

However suddenly, Felix pulls back wearing a frown. For a few moments you find yourself catching your breath, confused, arms still around his neck.

"Something's wrong," it's not a question.

"Nothing's wrong," you lie, and hope it's more convincing them his usually are, "nothing at all," you hum, and move back in to press kisses to his jaw, hoping it's enough of a distraction to trail those kisses down his neck.

"You're angry about something," damn it. Of course Felix knows you too well.

"Am I?" You want to keep the ruse up for as long as you can manage, "and what would that be?" You murmured before you're sucking a beautiful, bruising hickey against his neck.

"I don't -" but his breath catches, grip on you tightening. It almost works; he swears faintly under his breath, losing himself in the moment and leaning into you, but then he actually seems to shake himself out of it, "come off it," he sighs, and you sit up, trying your best to appear both confused, and still in the mood, "if I'm not allowed to do this, neither are you." He says pointedly. Even though you're fighting a losing battle, you still lean in, still try and distract him with your mouth on his.

"Do what?" You murmur, nose to nose as you peck him quickly, desperately trying to keep your tone light and teasing. But you can see it in his eyes before he even says it; he knows exactly what you're doing.

"Distracting me because you know how fucking hot I think you are."

"And if I was," you murmured, pressing yourself against him, "why would that be such a bad thing?"

"Because you're being evasive," Felix pushed you back, held you at arm's length as your expression began to drop, fury beginning to creep back in as you remembered what exactly it is you didn't want to tell him, "you're not evasive with me;" he insists, "everyone else, sure, but this - whatever this is - is.. it's- it feels weird. This isn't you!"

"What am I then, Felix?"

"Mine!" He answered far too quickly, frustration sling out of him, but appears to catch himself, correcting to, "my best mate, alright? You don't not tell me things."

"So if there is something I'm not telling you, can you not trust that I might have a reason?" Finally your anger bursts from you, furious in the evening light. Felix has gone quiet, shocked; it's been a long time since you'd yelled at him like this. He looks wounded, apologetic, something you're not used to. Climbing off of him, you stand, you have to give yourself some distance from him, "there's a lot I don't tell you, Fi," you sighed, expression pinching as you tried to force yourself to calm down.

"You can tell me anything," Felix's voice has softened, leaning forward on the sofa. It aches to look at him, to see him so beautiful and vulnerable in these moments, "you know that."

"I know," you agreed, "it's not that I can't tell you, it's that I don't want to," you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, groaning; you can't look him in the eyes, can't even look at him right now, "and I will, that's the thing; I'm going to tell you, you're right, I always do, I just -" in a moment of weakness, your voice comes out almost sounding pitiful, defeated and frustrated, "I thought I had more time."

"What's wrong?" Felix asks softly. When you laugh, there's no humour in it. The more the reality of your situation sinks in, the more the fight leaves you.

"It's going to make you angry, or upset, or probably both," you sound rather helpless when you say it, but it seems like you no longer have a choice in when you get to tell him.

"Is it your mum?"

"I wish it was my mum," you shook your head, finally moving your hands to shake them out as you stepped back, leaning back against your desk with defeat. With every moment that passes you can feel Felix's gaze upon you, burning into you. When you are upset, he will never relent until he finds the source; usually it would be a gift, make you feel wanted and special and like you actually mattered for once. But this knowledge feels like a curse.

"We could run away," it's a last resort, barely more than a mutter as you look at your hands.

"What?"

"Just us," you continue, fidgeting, unable to look at Felix and the concern you knew you'd see in his eyes, "I could get us a little apartment in some artsy, London suburb," it's not going to work, not going to distract him, to keep him from prying the information from you that you know will hurt him, but it's all you have left, "you know nan would help us out, she'd kill for me. We could do whatever we wanted, never have to work a day in our lives. We could be whoever we wanted, wouldn't have to live in a house where they'd rather we die of heat stroke than ruin the wood panelling with an air conditioner," all you can think about is how you fell for a boy who didn't love you the way you hoped he would, and turned out couldn't even really respect you, "never have to go back to Oxford."

"What happened?" Standing, Felix crosses the short distance to your desk. There's so much sweetness in his voice as he sits in the desk chair beside you, looking up at you with his damn perfect brown eyes.

"I can't let this happen again, Fi," you hadn't even realised you were close to tears until it becomes harder to speak, "I tried, I fucking tried, I told him -"

"Who?"

"Ollie," you sniffled, face growing hot as you couldn't stop your tears from beginning to fall, "I warned him not to go near Venetia- I just- I can't believe she'd do this again, that Ollie couldn't respect when I ask him this one thing -"

"Ollie and Venetia?" There's an unsettling, blank quality to Felix's voice. The look in his eyes is far away and ice cold.

"Apparently hooking up on the front lawn," you clarified, voice weak, trying to wipe the tears from your eyes, derision edging it's way back into your voice as some of the anger returns, "for God, and Farleigh to bare witness," you took in a deep, shaking breath, attempting to pull yourself together, "I tried, Fi -"

"Fucking unbelievable," Felix snarls furiously, getting to his feet, "both of them- fuck, was Farleigh sure? He wasn't making some sick joke?"

"Even Farleigh wouldn't fuck with us like that," you muttered darkly, before adding, quiet, sounding actually pained with frustration, "I've been nothing but good to them, Fi, I thought -"

"You are never touching my sister again," Felix cuts you off firmly, voice forcibly calm. Surprised both by his tone and his words, you look up; he's so much closer than you'd realised The look in your best friend's eyes almost overwhelms you; protective, possessive, "I'm not watching her treat you like that anymore," he braces himself against the desk either side of you, crowding you against it.

"Fi," your barely manage a whisper, heartbeat racing in your chest, "I..." for just a moment he looks almost pained, and he hangs his head, faint, humourless laugh escaping him.

"I have to watch you fuck around with people who would barely give you the time of day; you're so fucking good it kills me sometimes," he bites out; you can't tell him that you know they're just using you, that so many people simply entertain the idea of you as a way to stay in Felix's life. Even if he'd never admit it, Felix knows. There's very little in his life that he's ever felt the need to reflect on, and even less that he feels any particular guilt about. You used to think he was fine with this arrangement, that he knew you could find the fun in these one-sided dynamics, "they're fucking using you," he grits out, but you're surprised by the way his fury almost sounds like despair, "I watch them and they're fucking using you like you're not even a person, Y/N."

Felix looks up; the looks in his eyes is more serious than you think you've ever seen from him. Deliberately, firmly, he takes your face in his hands.

"You're not my shadow, you know that, right?"

For a very long moment, you think you feel your heartbeat stop in your chest. On the surface it's a completely ridiculous question, except...

Feeling your face grow hot, you know he can see you tearing up; Felix has always known you better than anyone, always known exactly what you seem to need to hear. Nodding weakly, caught, pinned by his intense gaze, his focus on you, your lip trembles. Already fraught with emotions from the day, and the evening that had just passed, you have no fucking idea what to say. Felix has never spoken this out loud, never let himself properly wrestle with the subtext that coloured so much of your dynamic; it flickers across his face, the surprise and guilt and realisation as it hits him what he'd just said.

You are so much more to him than anyone else will ever give you credit for.

You are not his shadow, but you are unequivocally his.

So you kiss him.

[lauraneedstochill]

I won’t fall for someone who can’t misbehave

summary: Aemond is betrothed to the sweetest girl in the Seven Kingdoms. She is smiley, soft and kind-hearted. Until she isn’t. (or, alternatively: “No one took your side when you were a kid. But I’m doing it now.”) pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader (her House is not specified) words: 9000 +

warnings: slow (!) burn, attempted harassment, Aemond is in pain 70% of the time (headache and all that) and has no clue how to act around someone he’s in love with. author's note: I’m working on 3 fics at the moment, and it’s taking forever to finish (yay for my poor time management skills!), so I whipped up something short(er). Rhaenyra is the queen here but I barely mention the blacks (not out of spite, I just thought it wouldn’t add anything to the story). also, I don’t think women would be allowed to misbehave like that... I don’t care ;)

Aemond knew of the preplanned betrothal even though everyone around him was ridiculously mysterious about the subject matter. He’s been made aware of the upcoming visit of some noble family, and the preparations were quite extensive. Then he overheard Baela telling Jace that the expected guests will bring their daughter. The middle one. It wasn’t very hard for Aemond to put two and two together. His wedding was long overdue, and Alicent was eager for him to make his choice. But he dreaded the mere thought of it.

Aemond’s never been very good at courting women, but mostly due to the lack of trying. He’s used to them looking at him with fear and suspicion as if he’s some kind of wild animal ready to attack at any minute. Getting sidelong glances did hurt him growing up, but with time Aemond learned to benefit from it, using his fearsome image as a shield. No one ever dared to try and break it to see what was underneath. But now he is faced with the inevitable change that’s approaching his life at the speed of a storm wave. To him, taking off the eyepatch won’t be nearly as excruciating as giving into the vulnerability of letting someone in, opening up to someone. He’s never been afraid of much but that? That was terrifying.

The anticipation made Aemond nervous. He knew he should probably ask around and try to gain any information about his soon-to-be wife, but it felt wrong. Not knowing felt even worse. No matter how good of a fighter he was, fighting the uncertainty seemed like a challenge. Aemond spent his nights tossing and turning, wrapped up in blankets as insomnia was clinging to his body. He tried to busy himself with training, but his usual easy victories brought him no satisfaction. He’s been winning for so long maybe it was time for him to lose. Except not to his training partners but to a stranger, who in time will get a permanent place in his life.

His rides with Vhagar, which usually brought him peace, now had the opposite effect. The old dragon acted annoyed and disgruntled for no reason, huffing and grumbling at every turn as if she could sense his own frustration. You can’t tame your emotions yet I’m supposed to listen to your commands? Silly boy. If Vhagar could speak, she would probably tell him that, Aemond thought. And he blamed himself even more.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, the headache came back. As usual, it started with a feeling of pounding heaviness in the back of his head, which then spread further: into his temples, forehead and down the hateful scar. Within a couple of days, the pain gets so bad, he has to grit his teeth to keep a straight face, and he's barely able to shove a few bits of food down his throat. But it’s a topic he never brings up, it’s a humiliating secret that’s just between him and his mother. When he lost his eye, for the first month the pain was close to unbearable. The maester kept telling him that it was caused by the healing of skin tissues and assured that the intolerable feeling would go away. It never did. His scar was something he learned to cover up, and the bright red stripe faded slightly with time, but the pain lingered. Aemond opted to think that it only contributed to him becoming more resilient, yet that argument didn’t withstand the test of time. The pain receded for some short periods, but then it would always come back, and he could never get used to that, no matter how hard he tried.

He can only hope it will get better by the time the guests arrive. But the gods seem deaf to his prayers, and the night before the event he doesn’t get a wink of sleep. He goes through his day in a daze, skipping the training session to hide in the library instead, although he can’t bring himself to focus and read more than a single page. When the time comes for him to walk into the dining hall, it’s the last thing he wants to do but he forces himself to go. Festive ornaments, tables laden with the finest dishes, bright-colored clothing of everyone around him blend and blur into each other. He takes deep breaths and counts his steps, gathering all his strength to sit down and not wince at the movement.

All it takes is one look at him for Alicent to understand what’s going on.

“Aemond,” she approaches him, whispering. “What’s wrong? Is it the headache again?”

Aemond doesn’t want to admit it, but he lacks the energy to deny it either so he just nods. She gives him a regretful look, gently squeezing his shoulder.

“Should I call for the maester? Maybe he will be able to come up with something to ease the pain.”

“I don’t think we have time to fuss over me,” he declines with a pain-stained voice. “I was under the impression that we’re expecting someone to join us today.”

Alicent sighs. She knows better than to fight his stubbornness, but she hates how helpless it makes her feel. Aemond hates that feeling, too.

“Please don’t tell me you require motivation,” Aegon’s voice is loud as it is but right now it sounds deafening, and Aemond sharply exhales. His brother flops on a nearby chair, bringing his ignorant attitude with him.

“Undoubtedly you’ve interacted with women before,” he chuckles, completely unaware of Aemond’s suffering. “Try not to scare her with your creepy stare, and maybe she won’t run away.”

Alicent briefly closes her eyes in annoyance. She glances around, making sure not to attract any attention, and then grabs Aegon by the chin, forcing him to look at her.

“Enough with pestering, I need you to behave yourself,” her voice is tinged with irritation. “Just for one evening. Can you do that?”

Aegon’s body stiffens up, the smug look disappearing from his face.

“As you wish, mother,” he mutters, and she lets go of him. Alicent shoots another glance at Aemond before leaving. Aegon gives his brother a side-eye but says nothing.

Aemond is exhausted, anxiety bubbling in his chest, and he thinks he has a few more minutes to compose himself yet that time passes in the blink of an eye. Before he knows it, the guards at the door make the announcement, and he sees a group of unfamiliar faces. None of them are of his age, though, and for a moment that realization brings him some comfort. But then he notices a female figure in the distance as she’s approaching the entrance.

When she walks in, the music goes quiet, and Aemond hears people gasping. It seems like every man in the room has his gaze on her. And she certainly is a sight for sore eyes. She moves with a gracious pace, the silky fabric of her dress flowing downward with every step. It’s not too revealing, but it hugs her body in all the right places. Her hair is up, and he can see the waves of her collarbones peaking through. A half-smile is plastered on her face, but she doesn’t seem to be nervous. If he was to take a guess, he would've said she was tired. But she won’t let it show, keeping her head high and being seemingly unaware of the attention she got. Maybe she’s used to it just like he is, Aemond thinks. Although people usually glare at him for a completely different reason.

“Someone is about to get a piece of cake,” Aegon elbows him lightly, his voice low.

“Someone needs to shut up,” Aemond snarls, earning a laugh from his brother. That catches her attention, and her gaze lands on Aemond. When their eyes meet, her face softens, smile growing wider. He tries his best to force a wan smile in return, but his stomach turns in discomfort. He can already imagine how people will react: a stunning woman like her with a man like him, what a tragedy. That thought stings, his anxiety growing stronger. The headache gets worse, and he tightens his grip on a cup of wine that he hasn’t even tasted yet. Aemond can’t help but wonder if she knew she would have to marry him. If it does bother her as much as it bothers him.

The members of her family are greeted as guests, with no mention of a possible betrothal. Her name is the only one he catches — and then silently repeats it a few times. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, the sound of it breaking through his clouded mind. She’s seated next to him, as expected, and he notes that her dress compliments her eye color. Aemond is thinking of a way to start a conversation, but she beats him to it:

“You gave us such a warm welcome, but I must admit, I am surprised by the scale of it. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience?”

When her words reach his ears, the buzzing in his head stops, and Aemond turns to her, astonished by his own reaction. It’s not the naivety of her question, nor the friendly tone of it. It’s just her voice. Melodic and mellow, it feels soothing among the loud noises they’re surrounded with.

“I assure you, your family was simply welcomed with the respect you deserve,” he answers pensively. His throat is sore, but he can’t steel himself to take a sip of wine, afraid that it will make him sick. He wants her to speak again.

Aemond asks about her family, letting her lead the conversation. She is easy to talk to and she gives just the right amount of information before jumping to another topic. At any other time, he would’ve really enjoyed the flow of it, yet now he is growing weary. The headache is still there, but her voice does bring him some relief. That is until she abruptly stops.

“Are you feeling alright?” she sounds worried, and the same emotion is written on her face. Aemond tries to blink away his exhaustion. 

“I apologize if I’m not exactly the best at keeping you company. It’s been a long day,” he knows he should’ve come up with a better excuse. He feels like he can hardly function at this point.

She keeps her attention on him for a few more seconds. Then she moves her eyes to the other end of the table, where her family is seated. She makes eye contact with her father and gives him a big yawn. It’s obviously and comically fake but it works: her family finds an excuse to leave earlier. Aemond knows that now he also got a chance to escape soon after. He feels a pang of guilt knowing that he’s the reason their conversation was cut short, but she doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

“We shall continue on the morrow when we are both well rested,” she smiles reassuringly at him before leaving.

Aemond seriously doubts that he’ll get any rest as his head feels like it’s gripped in an iron vise again. The next morning he drags himself out of bed later than usual, the pain now dull but present nonetheless. He sits with his face in his hands, breathing in and out, until he’s almost numb. The almost leaves a sour feeling in his mouth — or maybe it’s the nausea, he doesn’t know nor does he care. He’s been handling this for years, he can survive another day.

Aemond decides that since he is to be wed, he should make an effort for it to work. He thinks about his duty, his mother, about Y/N, who traveled all the way to King’s Landing for a man she’s never met before. Aemond thinks of everyone but himself because there’s only so much he can do without draining himself completely.

He missed the breakfast already but hopes to find Y/N within the perimeter of the castle and rushes out of the bedroom. He’s passing by Helaena’s chambers when he hears someone laughing. And it’s not his sister. Aemond debates if he can deal with kids right now, but chooses to give it a chance and quietly walks in. Helaena has embroidery in her hands but seems more focused on a sight in front of her, and he follows her gaze. Y/N is sitting on the floor with her back to the door, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are on either side of her, their cheeks plump and pink, tiny fingers grabbing her dress. She’s reading to them, and it’s a tale they’ve heard many times before, yet the kids are listening attentively, occasionally making noises of excitement. Aemond doesn’t need to speak gibberish to know that they are fascinated by the melody of her voice and the playful tone she uses to make the story more engaging. He leans on the door frame, his body relaxing at the sound. Jaehaera puts her head on Y/N’s shoulder and eagerly turns the page, making her laugh again.

“You are an impatient little thing,” Y/N giggles.

“That she is,” Helaena agrees, and when Y/N turns to her, she is surprised to see that Aemond joined them.

“Pardon me, I didn’t hear you coming in,” she stands up in a hurry, both kids are instantly glued to her. “Your sister was kind enough to keep me company.”

“I asked her to come by after breakfast, and they haven’t left her side ever since,” Helaena explains, sounding very pleased.

“Would you mind if I steal this new friend of yours?” Aemond asks while keeping his eye on Y/N, waiting for her reaction. Her face flushes but he sees no indication of discontent. Aemond grudgingly admits to himself that it brings him something akin to joy. But it fades, absorbed by his numbness.

“Make sure to be on time for dinner,” his sister nods, calling for the nanny to take the kids.

It takes a little bit of persuasion but eventually Jaehaerys and Jaehaera let Y/N go, and she follows Aemond out of the room. She mentions that Helaena wanted to show her the library, and Aemond agrees to take her there. Along the way, he strikes up a conversation in attempt to compensate for their last one. As she’s telling him about her morning, her voice seeps into his mind like honey, and Aemond tries to concentrate to take the right turns and not trip on the stairs.

When they walk into the library, she pauses, looking around in awe. This woman makes men turn around after her, yet she is so easily impressed by the simplest things, Aemond thinks. The prince wonders if she can ever be impressed by him.

“This is where you study?” she is admiring endless rows of shelves, and Aemond gives her an affirmative “hmm”.

“How many of these have you read?”

“Quiet a few,” he is modest as ever, and she shoots him a curious look.

“I wonder what are your preferred subjects.”

“History and philosophy,” he doesn’t mean to sound so terse, but whatever interactions with women he’s had before, that experience obviously didn't turn him into a lady’s man.

“Would you be so kind to share your favorite books with me?” when she glances at him, there is a sparkle in her eyes. It looks like she’s actually interested to know more, as if she does want to know him. His immediate response, however, is to distance himself, and he takes a step back.

“I am afraid there are not enough hours in the day to name them all,” Aemond opposes, hands clasped behind his back.

“Please, take pity on me, I need something to help me pass the time,” she presses the matter further but does so very gently. “Name just a couple.”

He gives into her pleading tone and reluctantly agrees but they don’t stop at just a couple. They end up spending the day roaming in the library, lost in the labyrinth of shelves and books. She’s never too pushy with her questions, she’s making small jokes, she doesn't take offense at his cold demeanor. Behind his mask of feigned indifference, Aemond feels like someone is hammering at his left temple, and the pain echoes through his whole body. But he doesn’t dare to leave her hanging for the second day in a row.

The prince is too preoccupied with his internal struggle to notice that she's growing worried about him again, and by the time they come back for dinner, her face expresses an alarming concern.

“I must apologize if I tired you out with my relentless chatting,” she says, almost whispering, when they are seated.

“You did not, no need to fret,” Aemond states. I must apologize that you are to marry a man who can’t curb the pain that’s spilling out of him, he thinks.

Food is tasteless in his mouth. She is sitting on his right, and Aemond’s body can’t adjust to the foreign feeling of someone being in his close proximity. He is so accustomed to being on his own, he doesn't know how to unlearn that.

Throughout the whole dinner, Aemond can feel his mother’s gaze on him. Later that evening, when a maid brings him a cup filled with the milk of the poppy, he decides against taking it. He regrets it the very next day.

When Aemond tries to lift his head off the pillow, he feels like his skull is full of rocks. They’re rolling from side to side as the pain rumbles, and for a few minutes he can't hear anything else around him. That’s why, when Aemond opens his eye, he’s startled at the sight of his mother standing in the doorway.

“I did knock but got no response,” she gives him a look that’s a mix of concern and suspicion. She suspects that he’s unwell again and it concerns her. He wishes she never knew of that burden of his.

Aemond moves up in his bed, clenching his jaw. He knows his mother well enough to realize she must’ve had a reason for this early visit. Alicent proves him right when she speaks.

“The queen went into labor a couple of hours ago.”

He absentmindedly hums, not knowing how to react. His mother continues, with a hint of hesitance.

“There will be a feast when the baby is born. We thought... Rhaenyra and I, we thought it would also make for an occasion to do the announcement. About your betrothal.”

Her words come as no surprise to Aemond. It is what’s expected of him, it’s about his duty and his responsibilities, but this time he doesn’t want to think of that. He wants to be left alone, to drown in the layers of blankets, to go back to his short-lived slumber.

“The day Y/N arrived, I asked the queen to postpone the announcement. To give you some time to get to know each other,” Alicent takes a few steps towards his bed. “It seems like you’re getting along quite well?”

“I could think of no better woman than her,” Aemond admits and it is true. What he doesn’t say is that he can also think of a dozen other men who would be more deserving of her, more than he is.

Alicent catches the discreet sadness in his words but doesn’t know what caused it. She eyes her son with undisguised empathy.

“Her father implied that she is content with the betrothal, too. I thought you’d be happy to know,” Alicent gives him a lax smile. “I shall let you go back to sleep,” she adds and leaves.

Aemond knows he’ll get no sleep now. He repeats the well-known routine of deep breaths with the minimum movements, scraping up the remains of his strength before leaving the room. He goes straight to Y/N’s chambers, wondering if his mother visited her, too, and how that visit went.

To his surprise, she is nowhere to be found. A maid informs him that she left the room a few hours ago. He can’t find her in the library and she isn’t in Helaena’s chambers, either. He searches for her in the courtyard and then goes back to roam through the corridors, peering into every room on his way. He’s lost in his thoughts until he hears Y/N calling his name. Aemond turns around — and there she is, at the other end of the hall.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she skips towards the prince, beaming. He could never imagine anyone being this happy at the sight of him. She stops when they are only a couple of meters apart, her smile glowing.

“We must’ve passed each other, because I’ve been looking for you, too,” he confesses. She seems very pleased with herself though he isn’t sure why.

“I think the weather calls for a walk,” she blithely suggests. “Would you like to accompany me?” — as the words leave her mouth, she reaches out a hand to him. For a moment Aemond is looking at her baffled, and then hesitantly takes her hand. Her skin is soft, fingers warm, and she intertwines them with his own. That gesture comes so naturally as if they’ve done it before, yet Aemond clearly hasn’t. The feeling of holding someone’s hand is unusual to him. But it seems enjoyable.

By the time they get to the garden, Aemond finds that her hand fits perfectly in his. He is blushing profusely. He also notices that his headache receded a little and he can’t help but think that she was the reason for that.

“Your mother came to me this morning,” she informs him as they are walking hand in hand. “I assume she talked to you, too?”

“She did,” Aemond confirms. “Am I right to guess we had the same conversation?”

“Well, mine was about uniting two great Houses,” she mimics a man’s voice, and Aemond grasps that Otto was there as well. “Your grandfather gave a very convincing speech.”

“He had a lot of practice while being the Hand of the King. Maybe he misses having an audience,” the prince chuckles and she laughs.

Aemond holds a pause and then adds. “Forgive me if I’m being too blunt but I wonder if the conversation was of unpleasant nature to you.”

“It was not,” she slows her steps. “I know what’s expected of me and I will perform my duty. But if I’m being honest...,” she turns to him, and the tenderness of her gaze tugs at his heart. “I am glad that it’s you,” Aemond feels a flare of an unknown emotion deep in his chest. “We’ll make a pretty good team. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Aemond lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looks down at their hands and then back at her.

“It seems so,” he tells her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips. There is a moment of comfortable silence as they make a short stop in the shade of the trees.

“But I shall give you a warning,” she says with a mischievous grin. “My siblings take any celebration very seriously. Every single relative of ours will come to the wedding, and most of them won’t shy away from enjoying a cup of wine... Or two.”

“Can any of them outdrink Aegon?” he jokes, and she bursts into laughter.

Aemond gets carried away by their conversation once again, losing track of time. While she’s listing her relatives, adding innocuous remarks about each of them, the prince is enthralled by the warmth that radiates off her. Her presence alone calms the storm of his insecurities, lulling his fears to sleep. She does that so effortlessly, it’s almost intimidating. But there’s a certain thrill to it, too — the thrill of being close to her, sharing laughs and stories, and Aemond clings to that feeling.

He enjoys the moment while it lasts; until his headache predictably creeps up on him a few hours later. He can’t tell if she senses that something is wrong but she’s the one to suggest returning to the castle. Aemond gladly accepts it.

On the way back they are greeted by one of the guards who notifies them that the queen gave birth to a girl. She lightly squeezes Aemond’s hand.

“Tomorrow is a big day then,” — and the prince knows exactly what she means. The fragile bond that they only started to get the hang of will soon become public knowledge. It won’t be their secret anymore but rather an over-discussed gossip.

“There is still time for you to plan an escape,” Aemond jests half-heartedly.

She looks puzzled for a second, but then shakes her head.

“Only if you’re planning one. We are in this together, remember?” her thumb brushes over his. “It’s all about teamwork.”

Aemond savors the last fleeting minutes of their day. He barely touches the food at dinner, the pain in his head intensifying but he pushes through. When the time comes for them to part, he doesn’t want to. That feeling is alien to him and the prince is clueless about its nature. But he knows that with her any misery will be bearable.

When Aemond walks into his chambers, he notices a little jar on the bed table. It’s the one that the maester used to bring him the ointments in, and the prince sighs. The maester doesn’t grasp the extent of the problem but occasionally would suggest a thing or two to help with the pain. They’ve tried using cold packs, then the warm ones, tried massaging his temples, then drinking cinnamon tea, then adding some ginger that’s known as a remedy for reducing inflammation... Nothing has worked so far.

But he should make an effort.

Aemond barely glances inside the jar and tosses away a piece of paper with the instructions scribbled on it. The prince already knows it all too well: he applies a thick layer of whatever that concoction is on his scar, involuntarily wincing at the cooling sensation. It smells of herbs and feels oily but absorbs into the skin pretty fast.

For some reason, his mind goes back to his mother’s words — “I thought you'd be happy to know.” Aemond is unsure what happiness means. The happiest day of his life is forever chained with the worst one, smeared with blood and pain that he's been carrying through the years.

But now that he met Y/N, he questions if there’s more to life than what he's been through so far.

While he is laying in bed, Aemond wonders if can consider her his friend. If she will ever be more than just a friend to him.

And then, before he knows it, the prince is fast asleep. He wakes up feeling like a new man. At first, he mistakes that feeling for the remnants of his dreams that he was enveloped with at night. He shakes off his drowsiness and looks at the ceiling, catching a glint of sunlight that seeped through the curtains. That's when Aemond realizes that the pain is gone.

He sits up, bewildered, waiting for any sign of discomfort yet nothing happens. He waits for a couple of minutes — and then for up to thirty, but his head is clear and doesn’t ache at all. His eye shifts to the jar on the bed table, and Aemond makes a note to extend his gratitude to the maester later. Suddenly the upcoming festivities don't seem so torturous anymore.

He doesn’t get a chance to see her throughout the day as everyone is preparing for the feast. When Aemond walks into the hall of the Iron Throne, he takes in the decorated surroundings. Unlike the last time he was here, now he wants to remember every detail, knowing that this evening would be of great importance.

The room fills with people, but Aemond patiently waits for her alone. He spots her the second she steps in. Her dress is violet, the material bright and luminous, and it puts her into the spotlight yet again since she's the only one wearing that color. As soon as she takes her place at the table next to Aemond, her hand finds his. He's getting used to that way too fast. It’s hard not to.

The first round of toasts goes to honor Visenya, the newborn daughter of the Queen. Rhaenyra willingly tolerates the sweet talk, generous with her smiles and appreciation. At some point, when the timing seems right or maybe when her cheeks are already aching, she gives a nod to Alicent, and Aemond knows what it means. As she starts her speech, he ruefully releases Y/N’s hand.

But right when they are standing up, with everyone around cheering and staring, she lightly presses her body against his, and Aemond feels how tense her back is. That’s when it dawns on him that she’s well aware of the attention but she doesn’t really like it. Instinctively, he puts his fingers on her waist, his touch respectful and delicate. She breathes out and briefly rests the back of her head against his shoulder. For a moment it feels like it’s just the two of them.

That feeling doesn't go away.

Usually, he’s not the one to take part in dancing, but he does so for her. Aemond feels out of practice and he can’t tell if that's what makes his head spin or if he’s getting tipsy from the intimacy of their dance. Her moves are elegant, well-rehearsed, her body follows the rhythm of the music with ease. He doesn’t remember when was the last time that silly activity brought him so much elation. Did it ever?

Time flows by in a blur, and they eventually take a pause after going into a fit of giggles at the sight of Lord Velaryon trying to improvise a move and failing, only to amuse his loving wife. Y/N suggests going out for a while and Aemond is keen on following her but then his mother catches up to them, her hand and her gaze are on him in an instant, pulling him away.

“Aemond, you’ve been dancing,” she can’t hide her bewilderment, a timid smile on her face.

“Should I not? Seems like a suitable occasion,” Aemond chaffs with a tilt of his head.

“It is, indeed,” she doesn’t let him go just yet, and he discerns the hidden meaning of her words, the apprehension she fails to conceal. Aemond wants to grant her some respite, at least for the rest of the day, so he tells her with plain-spoken sincerity:

“I can assure you, this isn’t a cause for your distress.”

But then he quickly finds a cause for his when he doesn’t see Y/N around. He goes searching for her in the crowd, then leaves the room altogether, coming out into the hallway.

Aemond hears her before he sees her — and she isn’t alone. It takes no effort to recognize the second voice, which belongs to no other than Jason Lannister. As the prince rounds the corner, they come into sight, and Aemond has a very bad feeling.

He missed the start of their dialogue, and the look on her face is unreadable. She’s oblivious to Aemond’s presence and he decides to watch them. He tells himself that he’ll never allow her to get into trouble. There is something very tempting in having a chance to save her from anything; as if he feels the need to prove himself to her. He tries not to entertain that thought.

“... It’s not too late to change that, don’t you think,” Ser Lannister purrs, his tone sickly sweet but arrogant.

“It is. Which I have no regrets about, ser,” when she talks to him there's not a hint of friendliness in her voice.

“Your approach may be short-sighted. The proposition of mine wasn’t of a frivolous kind,” he’s circling her, the manner of his movement is borderline predatory.

“I believe you will soon find a lady to welcome your advances but I would very much prefer to drop this conversation,” she recapitulates.

Aemond tenses up, feeling like this is the moment for him to step in. Then he looks at her and realizes that something is off. Her face expression changes — but it’s not a look of fear. By the rising of her chest, he detects that her breathing sped up, eyes are shooting daggers at the man in front of her. She’s looking, for the lack of a better word, positively furious.

But Ser Lannister, apparently, is not very good at reading signs as he comes improperly close to her.

“I can be very persuasive,” his fingers fall on her back — and then go lower. “I think you should appreciate the attention while I’m this generous and...”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. In about two seconds his face is suddenly slammed into the nearby wall, the hand he put on her is now twisted behind his back. Y/N uses her free hand to push right between his shoulder blades, pressing him into the stony surface.

To say that Aemond is shocked would be an understatement.

Right at this moment, she looks like a different person. This side of her he’s not acquainted with but it only adds to her appeal. The change is barely perceptible: she’s still maintaining her posture, keeping up the face of a woman who knows her worth. But Aemond catches a flaming spark of defiance that threatens to shutter her restraint. He can sense her anger from far away despite her doing her best to contain it.

“I do not know what kind of attention you are used to, but you’re forgetting your manners. Next time you dare lay your hand on me, I will not hesitate to break it,” her voice doesn’t lose its usual softness, but now has an added layer to it. It sounds sharper, bolder. It sounds like she’s not afraid of anything.

She lets Ser Lannister go, taking a few steps back and smoothing her dress. He is frozen at first, but then slowly turns to her.

“You didn’t... You did not just do that,” there’s a visible red mark on his cheek that will undoubtedly turn into a bruise.

“Did what, ser?” her tone is laced with coldness.

The man looks at her in disbelief, his face is a parade of emotions — from shock to annoyance to anger.

“You will not get away with this,” he scowls, nettled.

“You are telling me that you’re considering letting everyone know you were overpowered by a woman? Sounds hard to believe,” she seems unfazed.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he roars:

“You, insidious wre—!”

This time Aemond is the one to interrupt the man. “I suggest you watch your tone when speaking to my betrothed.”

She flinches at his voice, turning to face him, and Aemond slackens his pace a little.

“Shouldn’t she watch hers? She’s talking to a lord,” Ser Lannister exclaims lamely, his arrogance instantly toned down a notch.

“And I see no wrongdoing on her part. Care to explain what got you into this situation?”

“It was a... a simple misunderstanding,” his excuse is so pathetic that it makes the prince sneer.

“And what was the matter in question?” Aemond comes closer to the man which makes ser Lannister evidently uncomfortable. He carefully contemplates his next move.

“I only wanted to extend my congratulations on her betrothal,” the man fakes a smile. “Mayhaps I expressed myself poorly.”

“You should opt to choose your words more wisely next time,” Aemond looks down on him. “Perhaps you are needed somewhere else?”

“I shall rejoin the celebration then,” ser Lannister eagerly agrees and bows out way too quickly.

Aemond can barely wait for the man to get out of sight before turning to her. Even though the prince witnessed the whole thing, he can’t stop himself from asking:

“Did he harm you?”

“He didn’t get a chance,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. She looks so embarrassed, he wants to offer her some comfort but isn’t sure how.

"Dare I say we’ve got enough interactions for one evening?" Aemond tries to lighten the mood yet she only offers him a half-hearted smile.

“I will escort you to your chambers,” the prince suggests, and before she can argue he adds, “I know you can stand up for yourself if needed. But I insist.”

She doesn’t move an inch.

“...You are not mad at me?” she’s looking at him with doe-eyed sincerity, clearly upset. Aemond is mad at himself.

“I am thinking about cutting his arm off,” he says under his breath, but she catches it.

“Aemond, there’s no need!” she gasps and he sees a glimpse of a smile on her lips.

“I will have to disagree,” he starts but then she grasps his elbow and Aemond’s hand — finally — clings to her again.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me,” she confesses. 

“And I don’t want you to get hurt,” his fingers caress her arm through the lace material. Her cheeks heat up and Aemond finds it adorable.

“I think I... I was the one who did some damage,” she complains.

“You must imagine my surprise,” Aemond drawls, teasing.

“Oh, Gods,” a quiet groan leaves her mouth. “That was not very ladylike of me.”

She covers her face with the other hand, her grip on his arm loosening. Aemond dithers before gently brushing her palm away from her face.

“You did the right thing and you have nothing to be ashamed of,” he enunciates each word. “He only sets an example of unseemly behavior.”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t too far off,” she remarks, her voice relenting.

“Hmm, you are certainly not to be truffled with,” he retorts, earning a faint laugh from her as they start walking, arm in arm.

“May I inquire how did you... master that very handy skill?” Aemond ventures to ask. That image of her — brave and unapologetic in her anger — will be forever engraved in his memory. Aemond is apprehensive about voicing his curiosity, uncertain of her reaction but when she answers:

“My father taught me that,” her tone is surprisingly impish.

“And how did you manage to talk him into it?”

“Talking didn’t help much, actually,” she grins. “And then I broke my brother’s nose and my father decided he should find a way to guide my enthusiasm.”

“How old were you?”

“Nine,” she looks so satisfied with herself, Aemond can’t hold back a small laugh.

She joins him and they fall into the comfort of each other’s company. But then her smile wilts.

“There was a time when I was the youngest child and my siblings... They weren’t very nice back then,” she blurts out. Aemond feels his heart sinking.

“What did they do?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad, honestly, they were only teasing. It’s just um,” she’s looking for the right words or maybe for an acceptable explanation, but there isn’t any. “It was very tiresome mostly. I could never understand the reason for them being mean.”

Aemond is yet to tell her the story of him losing his eye, and the memory pops back into his head in a flash. He knows exactly what she feels, his own sense of helplessness fresh in his memory. And it still stings the same, and Aemond loathes that.

While he revisits the past, unwillingly slowing his pace, she spots the change in his demeanor within seconds. She sees his facial features congealing, his fingers clenching, and she comes to the only conclusion she can make.

“Is it the headache?” her voice is suddenly quiet, and Aemond comes to an abrupt stop. The question catches him off guard, words stuck in his throat and his mouth agape. He doesn’t know how to react nor does he understand how could she possibly know that.

She is quick to clear up his confusion. “I noticed not long after we met and then your mother confirmed my suspicions. I am sorry that I didn’t ask you directly, I thought... I didn't want to sound intrusive,” she explains coyly.

“By asking about my health?” he finds his voice again. “I am to become your husband, you are free to ask such questions.”

“We’ve only known each other for about a day back then. Surely, you’re allowed to take more time than that to open up to someone,” she kindly points out.

A day. Up until now the only person who’s known about his pain was his mother, and for years no one else ever questioned his well-being. And it took her a day to notice that something was wrong.

“Did the ointment help?” she asks hopefully. For a second he thinks he heard her wrong but the shadow of concern on her face tells him otherwise.

“That was your doing?” he can’t hide his amazement, and it elicits a laugh from her, sonorous and dulcet. Aemond likes the sound of it, he really does.

“I’ve been fortunate to obtain the knowledge required,” she informs him.

“And what kind of witchcraft is it?”

“It is not,” she playfully elbows him. “It was something my grandsire taught me. He used to have an ache of a similar nature. No one could understand the cause of it, and it only got worse with age. But my grandmother refused to sit idly by and one day she found a way to ease his pain,” she has a dreamy expression on her face but it melts into a wistful one. He guesses that both of her grandparents passed away.

“After her death, he wouldn’t let anyone help him. It took me months to persuade him and eventually he let me on her secret,” her smile is bittersweet. “Then he died, and I never thought the recipe would come in handy ever again.”

Aemond hates seeing her wallow in sadness. He puts his palm on top of her hand in an attempt to offer some consolation. If there was a way to free her of that grief, to take at least some of it upon himself, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But his touch is enough to bring back the cheerfulness in her voice.

“I should mention that your maester did help, too, although he was reluctant at first,” she reveals.

"And I presume that it also took some convincing?" Aemond thinks of the maester’s face that always looks like he is surrounded by imbeciles.

“I shamelessly boosted his ego,” she wrinkles her nose. “Told him there was no way anyone would ever be as skilled as he is, and that my attempt was merely a gesture of goodwill.”

“But it wasn’t just that,” Aemond cordially protests.

They already reached her chambers but he doesn’t want to let go of her hand. He wants to tell her that meeting her was like taking a breath of fresh air after being held underwater, like finding a source of light in the pitch darkness of the night or feeling the warmth in the dead of winter. Aemond wants her to know that she’s been a saving grace for him, but he’s somehow at a loss for words, his thoughts jumbling together.

“It was way more than that and I...,” never in his life had he gotten this tongue-tied and flustered. Yet she treats him with the same kindness and with no sign of prejudice, listening closely and keeping her eyes on him. Her gaze is disarming enough to make him say the first thing that comes to mind.

“I must admit, you exceeded my expectations,” Aemond breathes out.

It immediately feels like the worst, the dullest choice of words possible, and he wants to sink into the ground right this second. But then he sees her natural smile, genuine and bright, blossoming on her face again.

“I am glad to be of service, my prince,” she murmurs the last part, and his heart skips a bit.

He didn’t register the moment she came a bit closer, but she isn’t shying away from shortening the distance. There’s something enamoring about her trusting nature but that’s not what draws him in. For the first time, he experiences an unfamiliar feeling that tightens his chest, makes his breathing rapid. His gaze slips over her face, down from her radiant eyes to her smile, framed by the lips that look as soft as freshly bloomed flowers. The feeling melts into an urge — he only needs to take a step, to lean his head forward just a bit and...

Aemond inhales deeply. He thinks they are in no rush, he thinks it would’ve been disrespectful and naive. He’s mostly afraid to misread the situation, to scare her away.

But he wants to make his intentions clear. Aemond runs his thumb over her knuckles, brushing them one by one. And then he takes her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on it. He allows himself just this flicker of bravery before straightening up and releasing her hand. When he looks at her, her gaze is directed at him already. It feels like a particular question is hanging in the air; they let it dissolve for now.

“I shall bid you goodnight,” her eyes linger on him for a second before she turns away.

As Aemond watches her go, he is certain he wants them to be more than just friends. Lucerys’s name day comes in a about month, and by that time Aemond’s routine has changed drastically. It might look the same: he wakes up with the sun, flies with Vhagar, he trains regularly, he spends his free time reading — except now Y/N is a part of his every activity.

She’s never nosy or clingy; he is the one seeking her company at all times. She’s an early riser, too, and they are always the first ones at the breakfast table: he asks her about her dreams, they make plans, they poke fun at Aegon, who is perpetually sleepy, and she can effortlessly hold any other conversation with his family which only makes him ever so pleased.

She watches him train with genuine curiosity, she never looks away nor flinches, even when he gets too competitive and rough. Her attention is flattering — and it’s all on him, and it feels unusual at first, but becomes empowering and he bathes in it.

When he takes her to meet Vhagar, she is terribly nervous. Aemond jokes that meeting his old dragon will pose no challenge after she handled Ser Lannister. It gives her enough confidence to pat Vhagar’s snout as the beast observes her calmly. Aemond assures her that the dragon will never go against his wishes. What he wants to say is that Vhagar senses how he feels about her.

They spend evenings in the library, both absorbed in reading but always sitting close by, their arms and shoulders coming into contact more often than not. He sometimes can’t help but get distracted which leads to him forgetting about his book, instead secretly watching her, his glance full of adoration.

For a while, he’s oblivious to how inseparable they’ve become until Helaena tells him one day, while Y/N is playing with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in his sister’s chambers. When Helaena mentions it ever so nonchalantly — “You two seem joined at the hip!”, it startles him. But that moment doesn’t turn into an awkward one — instead, Aemond realizes that he's not scared anymore.

“I will steal her away from time to time,” Helaena says, as cheery as ever.

“Bold of you to assume I will let you,” he chuckles, his gaze not leaving his betrothed.

“I think she’ll have the last word,” his sister retorts with a cunning smile.

Aemond doesn’t think twice before admitting. “She will never say no.”

“My point exactly.” The Queen plans a great hunt to celebrate her secondborn son, and a feast is being held in no time. Aemond detests those pompous events yet Y/N seems too enthusiastic about the idea, and he begrudgingly agrees to participate. He has no wish to burden her with his weighted resentment toward Luke but, as usual, she sees right through him. She asks him if he has any reservations about the upcoming celebration, and that’s when he decides to tell her. Aemond doesn’t want her to pity him nor does he want to upset her so he keeps the story brief: he claimed the dragon, his siblings didn’t like it, things escalated way too quickly and they haven’t been on good terms ever since. 

She heeds his every word, then bluntly asks. “Must you really go?”

He ponders before answering with a sigh. “It would be rude not to. I should pay my respect.”

“I wish he had the courtesy to do the same for you,” she frowns.

“It would be a little too late for an apology,” Aemond shrugs even though her caring tone moves him deeply.

“I still think you deserve one,” she says like it’s the most obvious, logical thing in the world. He wonders how obvious the reddening of his cheeks is.

“I do not wish to dwell in the past when so many great things lay ahead of me,” and he only means her. Having a future with her is his greatest blessing.

She bestows him with her softest smile. “I guess we should make the best out of the situation we are in. Maybe you will have some fun hunting.” Aemond doesn’t know what was her definition of fun, but his definitely doesn’t involve babysitting Aegon. Yet that’s what he ends up doing as they get separated from the group of hunters and his brother gets so drunk, he can barely stay in the saddle. He babbles and whines and Aemond is on the verge of praying for a miracle when the two of them finally stumble upon a boar. The younger prince catches the animal without a struggle.

“Oh, must be good to be a boar. Wild and free!” Aegon grumbles on their way back to the camp.

“I just slit his throat. I doubt you would want to switch places with him.”

“I didn’t say I want to switch places,” he shakes his head so vigorously, he almost falls down. Aemond moves his horse closer, grabbing Aegon by the shoulder to steady him.

“Although switching places with you sounds tempting,” he sneers.

“And why would you ever want that?” Aemond raised his brow questioningly.

“You got yourself a pretty wife-to-be,” Aegon chants and whistles.

“Are you asking for me to tie you to that boar? That can be arranged,” Aemond deadpans.

“ 'tis won’t be necessary,” Aegon's quick to object. “Whatever she sees in you, those qualities are not in my possession,” his frown turns into a grin and he winks at his brother.

Aemond lightly chuckles. “You’ll get no argument from me.” Leaving her is not an easy task for Aemond but coming back to her might be the second-best thing in the entire world. And the first one, obviously, is being with her.

When they return to the camp, he helps Aegon down, impatiently looking around, and as his eye lands on her, his breathing hitches.

She’s standing next to the hunting tent, surrounded by a group of ladies, Helaena by her side and they’re both laughing as his sister unsuccessfully tries to finish her sentence. Y/N has a violet in her hair, strands of it falling down her shoulders, her smile bright against the fading evening sun. She helps Helaena to articulate whatever she's talking about, the ladies around them cackling.

Aemond admires his betrothed from afar, savoring the moment.

It amuses him that her softness is a choice, that she chooses to be open-minded and kind, even though the world around her is armed to the teeth, and she does know how to fight back. And yet, that’s not what motivates her. Instead, she’s an image of benevolence and generosity, always understanding and forgiving, hence why people are so naturally drawn to her. And he is no exception.

Aemond gets distracted when a couple of servants approach him and he instructs them to take the boar’s carcass away.

“You had a successful hunt, dear prince,” when Aemond hears the question, he rolls his eye. Turning around, he sees Tyland Lannister with a smile so forged his face might crack in half.

“As usual,” Aemond answers indifferently. “Never took you for a hunter.”

“I cannot appreciate cruelty,” Lannister forces out. “And I am afraid I will not be able to negotiate my way out of a bear’s grip. So I am here merely to control my brother’s primal impulses.”

The mentioning of Jason makes Aemond cautious.

“Developing some self-control may be beneficial for him,” the prince mutters.

Tyland goes blanch white, taking the hint. “I was wondering if I should address the delicate issue of my brother’s sympathy toward your—”

“You should not,” Aemond cuts him off. “Would be better to address his manners but it’s the thing you must sort out amongst yourselves,” with that, he turns away to find Y/N again.

Except she isn’t there.

The ladies moved closer to the tent but she and Helaena are the only ones missing. It takes him a second to realize that the women look alarmed, glancing at the tent. Or rather inside of it.

Aemond all but runs there, going over the worst scenarios in his head. When he gets in and sees Y/N in the company of Ser Lannister, he thinks he’s never been angrier in his life. If Aemond was a dragon, the lord would’ve been burned to a pulp as of right now.

Jason keeps his distance and his face expresses nothing but regret yet it looks like it’s already too late as she is glaring at him with a sharp glint in her eyes. And in the next moment, she loses her temper.

“...What am I missing exactly?” she asks Jason, her voice unexpectedly loud, and it draws the attention of some nearby men. She doesn’t care.

“You’ve been eager to win me over, but I am yet to find a single reason why would any woman find your company endearing,” she takes a step toward the lord and he shrivels under the weight of her words.

“Is it the winery that your servants built for you? Is it your herd of fine horses? You talk so much about your stable, one may think your betrothed is to marry a stallion,” her smile is mirthless. Aemond hears a faint groan behind his back and recognizes Tyland’s scared tone.

“But what are your accomplishments?” the tent gets deadly quiet as she continues. “Do you consider your persevering courtship to be one of them? Or your harassing of my parents, my relatives and even my maids with your never-ending propositions, no matter how many times were they all rejected? Or mayhaps ambushing me in the hallway counts as an achievement for you?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Aemond sees Helaena and Aegon, both looking stunned. Pretty much everyone around him has the same expression at the sight of Y/N. The prince, on the other hand, has never been more proud of anyone.

She looks at Jason as if she wants to bore a hole in him, her voice getting lower but harsher.

“You want to know what prince Aemond did? None of the above.”

Aemond feels his heart freeze at the mention of his name. She is yet to see him but when she speaks, it feels like she’s seen enough.

“The man I am about to marry has been nothing but kind, respectful and loving, fulfilling my every wish, granting me the comfort of his company and his loyalty. The man with the sharpest mind and the kindest heart — both of which you’re clearly lacking,” she casts Jason a disdainful glance. “So from where I am standing, it looks like I’m the luckiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”

When she feels a hand on her waist, she isn’t surprised and welcomes the touch with no hesitation, knowing full well who is standing beside her. She swiftly turns to Aemond, their eyes locking.

“I would like it if we left earlier, my prince.”

“As you wish,” Aemond wishes he could marry her right now.

Disregarding everyone’s attention, he leads her out and asks the coachman to fetch their carriage. When they are away from prying eyes, her confidence wavers a little. It only fuels Aemond’s ire.

“Give me just a second,” he can’t help himself.

Aemond goes back to the tent — and right to the Lannisters, one of them is already scolding the other. Tyland stops his lecturing when he notices Aemond, but the prince doesn’t let him make a sound.

“That was the second time your brother couldn’t hold his tongue,” Aemond ignores Jason and walks up close to the other man. “If you care about his well-being in the slightest, make sure there will be no third time.”

“Aemond, let us not make another scene. You must think how that will look like...”

Aemond stares Tyland dead in the eyes and promises:

“I will gut him like a boar. Imagine how that will look like.”

Without saying another word, the prince storms off.

Y/N already got into the carriage, fidgeting with the hem of the dress as she falls deep into her thoughts.

“Ser Lannister will not bother you anymore,” Aemond says, sitting next to her.

“I sure hope so,” she mumbles, looking down at the wrinkled fabric.

“Whatever he said, you should not let it get to you. I do appreciate the gesture,” way more than he cares to admit, “but there’s no need to go through the trouble of standing up for me,” Aemond barely finishes the sentence when she retorts:

“I will.”

She looks at him, her eyes burning with blazing certainty.

“No one took your side when you were a kid. But I’m doing it now,” she states as her palm covers his, the touch is as warming as her glance.

Aemond thinks he is the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms. He runs out of luck so fast, he must’ve jinxed it. They are nearing the castle when the pain on the back of his head stings so unexpectedly, he winces, his eyebrows furrowing. She notices it immediately and insists he should take a rest when they arrive.

“Mayhaps you have some of the ointment left?” she wonders, leading him to his chambers. Aemond rarely allows people to coddle him but he accepts her care freely. He is also aware that the near-miraculous balm that she makes is long gone because he hasn't had a headache in a while.

When she finds out, she looks devastated.

“It must steep for a few hours, I can’t make it right away,” her enthusiasm brittles. She glances at him in a dither, mulling over something, while he lights the fireplace.

“There is another way that I know of,” she slowly suggests. “But you will need to lie down."

“Quite a vulnerable position you want to put me in,” Aemond lightheartedly jests but brings himself at her disposal with no second thoughts.

She sits on his bed right next to him, the bend of her hips an inch away from his arm.

“Close your eye,” she asks calmly and he obliges.

Aemond senses that she leans over him and he struggles not to hold his breath at the realization of how close she is. Then he feels the tips of her fingers on his face, the touch is so light and gentle, it makes him shiver. The pattern of her movements first contours his face, then goes up to his forehead, then slowly glides onto his temples. She massages them delicately in a circular motion.

“It was probably all the noise that caused this,” she presumes.

“Or maybe the fact that the man makes my blood boil,” Aemond says, although his anger is completely gone by now.

“He is pissed I didn't choose him,” she laughs quietly.

“Choose him?” her words peak his interest. “You had a choice in the matter?”

“My father said he would hate it if I marry someone I didn’t like,” her thumbs are following the lines of his cheekbones, then run under his chin, then all the way up to his hairline, right next to his ears.

“May I ask what was your decision process?” Aemond selects his words very carefully. What he really wants to ask is why would anyone pick him, out of all people.

“I’ve heard you claimed the biggest dragon in the world at the age of ten,” he can’t see her smile but he can hear it. “That was impressive enough.”

Aemond takes a peek at her through his lashes. “That can’t be the only thing you’ve heard.”

“I can distinguish valuable information from pointless rumors,” she notes imperturbably.

“I bet those rumors included the stories of me being the scariest man in the realm...”

Her fingers cover his mouth and he stumbles.

“I decided I would be the judge of that,” she says firmly.

“And what is your verdict?” he can't stop himself from asking, his pulse speeding up.

She doesn’t think for a second.

“All the people who were spreading those vile tales clearly have never met you. There isn’t a single bad thing I can think of when it comes to you.”

Aemond shouldn’t take it to heart but that’s precisely where it hits, her voice cracking his shield, her eyes telling him she will never regret knowing him, caring for him. He thinks this is what true happiness is — being with someone who will choose you every time.

Her fingers graze over the strip of his eyepatch and she pauses her movement. She isn’t breaking eye contact, waiting for his reaction, for his permission or refusal. Aemond gulps, helpless under her gaze, and doesn't stop her.

She picks up the leather strip slowly, as if she wants to give him a chance to change his mind. Aemond watches her, his body still, heart rate booming in his ears. She removes the eyepatch and looks straight at the sapphire that gleams brightly in the warm lighting. And then she smiles.

“What do you see?” he exhales.

“Nothing scary, that’s for sure,” her gaze doesn’t leave his face, her index finger tracing the scar, barely touching his skin.

“Nothing I don’t admire,” her voice is a little above a whisper.

“Nothing I wouldn’t love.”

His heart is beating so fast, it feels caged and ready to jump out at any second. Aemond forgets about the headache as if it never existed. In this state of bliss, he contemplates making a very emotional decision. But she makes one instead.

She lowers her face closer to his and all of a sudden he feels a touch so light, it’s almost like a petal brushes over his skin. It’s her lips. She kisses his face — his scar — moving tenderly from the high point of his cheek to the area under the sapphire and then right above what’s left of his eyelid.

When their eyes meet again, Aemond can only think of one thing.

He surges upward, his lips colliding with hers — she responds in an instant. His chest feels like it’s on fire as kissing her is the most overwhelming feeling in the world, but he doesn’t want to stop, ever. Her fingers gently slide down to his neck and Aemond uses his arm for support as he sits up without breaking the kiss. He then pulls her closer, one of his hands on her lower back and the other nestled under her jaw.

She softly sighs into his mouth — and it might be his new favorite sound. She tastes like berries, her lips getting more eager, fiery, addictive, and he is dizzy with joy and longing, trying to memorize each second. The pacing of the kiss grows heated and intoxicating as they melt into each other perfectly. They only part when both are out of air, their lips tingling, swollen and craving to continue.

“I must admit,” she tries to catch her breath, she can’t stop smiling, her hands caressing his face, “you exceeded my expectations.”

Aemond laughs, cheerful and carefree, his nose bumping into hers.

“It’s all about teamwork, as I’ve heard,” he plants a quick peck on the corner of her mouth — and on the other one. And then they are kissing again, desperately drawn to each other. He’s lost in the sound of her voice, in the feeling of her lips on his.

His love for her is all-consuming. Her love for him is healing.

Turns out, letting her in doesn’t make him lose. With her by his side, he always feels like a winner.

✧ the title is a quote from Hozier’s song ✧ I originally took inspiration from this post that lists the possible consequences of losing an eye. I also can’t help but mention the extensive research that @adderess did, which only adds to that heartbreaking yet very realistic concept. ✧ I have a playlist for Aemond 🎵 I didn’t add any music in this fic BUT I’ve listened to “Mr Sandman” a lot, especially the instrumental version. 💕 my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

[queenimmadolla]

It’s crazy how you were just trying to buy some groceries, then this happened.

We gotta release baby Penny from the shackles of Eddie Munson ✊😔 but I fear it might be too late AHHH-

It was too late the moment one of his swimmers succeeded.

You really can’t turn your back to Eddie without expecting him to put Penny on display in anyway. He can’t help it! Look, you’ve mentioned loving his eyes before—quite a few times and he’s taken advantage of it whenever he could, batting his eyelashes at you to get you to stop being mad at him, the puppy dog stare to get you to cave into his whim (and also get him into your good graces). The point is, he was very aware of how pretty you thought his eyes were, though he never really got the big deal. Fond of them, sure, because his Uncle Wayne always told him he’d had his mother’s eyes, and he could see the uncanny resemblance in photos he had of her—still wasn’t a big deal.

Until you’d had Penny. From the first moment he held her, cradled against his chest and curled in on herself as though she were still in your womb, pulling herself from her own exhaustion to open her eyes and stare up at him, Eddie understood. Eddie finally got it, knew what you saw.

He’d been expecting them to be big—could tell even with her eyelids shut, thanks to how they almost seemed to bulge and take up a good amount of her face, but he hadn’t been expecting the innocence in them, her chocolate gaze luring him in, easily uprooting everything he considered of importance to him—music, art, teenage dreams—and taking their place. And she did it all with a few blinks. Eddie was finally a victim to his own eyes, staring back at him from such a precious, new face.

He fucking loved it. Loved her.

She’s so damn cute, he literally cannot stop staring at her. He’s a obsessed. And he’s proud. You made her, but he helped! He fertilized that egg, she’s a perfect mixture of the both of you, and with the newness of it all—he’s just gotta share! Camera in a grocery store??? HELL YEAH.

He’s holding her right up to it, LOOK AT HER!!!!! LOOK AT WHAT HE HELPED MAKE!!! LOOK AT THOSE ANGEL EYES AND LOVE HER, RIGHT! NOW!

Meanwhile, there’s not a single thought in your sweet little babies head, she is but a mere puppet for Eddie’s antics. His little babydoll bestie.

She’s lucky she was born before The Lion King came out. You know damn well what scene he would constantly re-create with your baby, and force his friends to get in on.

You’re no better, if you’re holding her, you will always find your way to a mirror so penny can see how cute-beautiful-gorgeous she is and say something like, “That you,” or “Oh my goodness, who is that beautiful little angel??? Is that you??? Are you mama’s pretty girl? Yeah, you’re mama’s angel, huh? Aw, so pretty! The prettiest girl around.” And you do it all the time because Penny gives you that gummy grin, loves it when you tell her how pretty she is or just when you use that baby talk tone.

[arthenaa]

histoire de toi et moi— sebastian sallow x fem! reader

summary: you recall the times in your life that you slowly fell in love with sebastian sallow.

dedication to @alreagwaine from @localravenclaw ♡

content warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, minors are highly discouraged from reading. p in v sex, riding, foreplay, seb being in love w u for most of his life, disgusting cringe fluff, you are d epitome of elegance in this omf, sebastian sallow if he was written by louisa may alcott and a sprinkle of jane austen (i may have channeled laurie from little women on this), projecting as imelda, angst if you squint, kiss kiss mwa mwa i love this man

note: enjoy the ride!! 14k word childhood friends to lovers got me feeling all types of ways,,, anys here hehe mwa mwa enjoy

You have known Sebastian most of your life.

It all started when you were merely 7 years old.

It was your parents’ fault really. The Sallows often frequented your home as a result of your parents’ close relationship. You often found comfort in the quiet halls of your manor; loving its tranquility and ambiance. The head maid, in charge of your care, often joked that if you had stayed inside longer you might have become one of those scary creatures your father liked to scare your brother about. It was also the reason why your mother often chastised you. You were closed off as a child and often clung to your mother’s skirts at the prospect of finding friendship in the little humans around you.

Your father would laugh it off, claiming it was just a little phase and that your mother should have nothing to worry about. Your mother didn’t quite like that at all and got even more motivated in letting you (more like forcing, honestly) come with her to social gatherings for mothers. But alas, despite multiple tries and different approaches, you had found yourself once again in the comforts of your home.

You thought that it would end. That your mother would finally get tired of finding you a friend. That horrendous act of her trying to convince you to play with Lady Weasley’s child who had just erupted into tears at your cold glare, was going to be the last of her attempts.

You were wrong, clearly.

“Oh, Astoria, Sean! Do come in!” You hear your mother’s delighted gasp of surprise at the visitors by the door. You peer into the baluster of the staircase, eyes staring in curiosity at the entrance of unfamiliar figures. You watch as they admire the interior of your manor. You almost feel proud of their faces of admiration. After all, your great grandfather was responsible for the beautification of your ancestral home. You allow yourself to focus on the task at hand as you hear your mother’s voice once more. “I trust the journey wasn’t a bit too rough?”

Astoria, the one you deduced was the woman, smiled as she faced your mother. “Oh, no worries! It was a breeze, darling. Travel will be easy here once Sebastian and Anne enroll in Hogwarts.”

“Ah yes, Y/N will surely be delighted to meet them.” You let out a little groan at your mother’s words. Your father, ever the perceptive person that he is, glanced behind him and up at where you were seated on the staircase. He smiles at you to which you respond with a finger against your lips in an attempt to not alert your scheming mother. The man winks, nose scrunching as he plays by your rules.

At least your father was tolerable. He often spoiled you with affection– an annoying habit of his that you always tried to correct. You were a big girl and your little brother needed the coddling more than you. As your eyes leave your father’s figure, your attention shifts to the two small physiques sticking close to the unfamiliar visitors.

You tilt your head in curiosity. While most children you’ve met were either too shy or too rowdy, these kids looked decently behaved as they stood beside their parents with shy smiles. Their body language didn’t give off too many closed vibes but it didn’t speak volumes of confidence as well. Just the right amount.

Unaware of your staring, you immediately lock eyes with the boy standing beside his mother. His brown eyes seemed to lock dead on with yours causing you to flinch and hide behind the newel post of the staircase. That seemed to be the signal for your mother as she looked behind her and caught the lingering fabric of your dress, rendering your attempts to hide a failure.

She sends the boy a sweet smile before calling out for you. “Y/N? Come down here please, darling. We have visitors!”

Silence lapses the foyer as they await for your response to your mother’s call. You bite your lip, hoping that your lack of answer would drive your mother’s need for your presence. You try to curl in on yourself as you hide behind the post of the staircase.

You hear your father’s chuckles accompanied by your mother’s chastising before she asks him to fetch you. It was absolutely comical for him apparently. Seeing you try to hide yourself when it just looks like a pup hiding with its tail sticking out. You see your father’s warm figure ascend the stairs with an arm reached out. Your shoulders drop in disappointment as you look up at your father for help. He only tilts his head in sympathy before you let out a sigh, grabbing onto his hand and letting him lead you down the set of stairs.

You lock eyes with your mother who sends you a pointed look. You glance away, not having the energy to deal with her. You cling to your father’s hand as he walks back to his spot beside your mother. The visitors greet you with sweet smiles and warm deportment. You could almost scoff at the ludicrosity of it all before you lock eyes with the boy once more.

He has a bold gaze in his eyes. Brown sparkling and vibrant as it meets yours. You could almost hear yourself gulp as you take a step back, hiding behind your father. The boy only smiles at your shy demeanor.

“Well, it would be rude of us if we didn’t introduce ourselves to the little lady of the house, right?” Astoria crouches down to your height, pulling the boy into her side as she looks at you like how your mother would. It almost pulls you out of your shell– the definite warmth of a mother lulling you into a safe space.

“We’re the Sallows.” She starts off. “I’m Astoria and that big man beside me is Sean. Don’t worry, he's harmless.”

Your lips turn up slightly as the man squints at his wife’s jesting. Your father gently pats your head to further reassure you.

The woman continues, nudging her head to the little girl bouncing on the balls of her feet beside Sean. “This is Anne, I think you’ll get along quite well–”

“Hi!” She interrupts her mother causing you to flinch. You curl back onto yourself, not used to the sudden burst of energy. Noticing your discomfort, she smiles sheepishly and apologizes for her loud behavior. The grown ups laugh at her adorableness before Astoria moves on to the boy who seemingly cannot take his eyes off of you. Whether she notices it or not, she doesn’t mention it.

You watch as the same brown eyes light up at the chance of being introduced to you. It’s like a dog waiting for its owner to allow it to run on its own.

You could almost feel a sweat drop at the excited energy he’s emitting from his position as he awaits his mother’s introduction of him. Astoria chuckles as she ruffles his curls. “And this is Sebastian. A bit mischievous but behaved nonetheless. Takes after me so you won’t find it hard to ease in around him.”

Another jest towards him, Sean can’t help but sigh and playfully roll his eyes. He seems to mouth something towards your father who jokingly nods in understanding. Whatever, that doesn’t seem to be of importance right now. Said boy walks towards you in two long strides causing you to step back in surprise.

“I’m Sebastian.” He repeats his name, arm reaching out towards you. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“I know. Lady Sallow introduced you.” You retort in a calm manner. The boy chuckles at your cold facade.

“I just wanted to make sure,” His nose scrunches in playfulness. You huff in apprehension at his forward personality. “And you are?”

Your hand reaches out to grab his, further solidifying a prospect of a new found friendship. You purse your lips as you introduce yourself. “Y/N Y/L/N. No nicknames by the way, just Y/N.”

He hums before sounding out your name. You should’ve noticed back then that the boy in front of you already had your heart in his grasp the moment you locked eyes with him but you suppose a child’s mind shouldn’t have any precise knowledge of what love is.

Carefree and subservient to the influences of the world around her– You were only a mere child introduced to the possibility of a new friend. You definitely couldn’t come to a realization that early.

You hear your parents gushing about your openness to the twins but it doesn’t linger in your mind as you allow yourself to focus on the boy in front of you. He smiles so widely as he discusses his interests and hobbies so intently with you. You could only listen with wholeheartedness.

You first met Sebastian Sallow when you were 7 years old. A seed planted on untouched soil. You didn’t know what this boy could entail for your future nevertheless, you allow him to be part of your life.

You were 10 years old when you realized that Sebastian was here to stay.

In the comforts of your manor’s library, you, Sebastian and Anne were dawdling around (well more of Anne, honestly) as you allowed the grown ups to do whatever it is that they do in one of the receiving rooms. You’re too engrossed with your book as the three of you sat on one of the corners of the numerous shelves of the library.

Anne grumbles beside you. “This is boring.”

“Then go outside, Anne.” You calmly reply as you turn another page. You were faintly aware of Sebastian’s missing figure beside you. He had mumbled a while ago on finding another book to busy himself with.

You had found yourself more in tune with the Sallow boy. Probably because of your shared interests in reading and learning. Your mother couldn’t be more proud at the sight of you finally conversing with people your age. She was worried that your peers would only be limited to your parents and the staff of the manor– Not that she would mind, the employees adore you as their little lady. She was more worried that you would grow older mind-wise with the amount of grown ups you're acquainted with.

“But I want to be with you, Y/N!” She whines like the child that she is, clutching your arm in her embrace as she rests her head on your shoulder. You had grown desensitized to Anne’s need for physical affection. The first few months were a nightmare. Mrs. Sallow would often compare you to a cat as she watches you escape Anne’s grasp. She joked about expecting to see scratches on Anne after comparing you to a feline. You only stared at her with your usual deadpan look.

You sigh as you close your book, making sure to tuck your bookmark between the pages before settling your eyes down at the younger Sallow. “Whatever shall I do to quench your ennui, dearest Anne?”

She could hear the sarcastic tone in your voice as she raised her head to look at you. It doesn’t weaken her resolve however. “Don’t you and Sebastian ever get tired of being surrounded by books? The boring scent of ink and paper has me lightheaded and weak.”

She makes a point to dramatically lean her weight to yours, the back of her hand on her forehead to add exaggeration. You roll your eyes at her as you nudge her body away from yours. Before you could even answer, the boy who had been missing mere moments ago suddenly chimes in from your other side.

“Oh, stop pestering her, Anne! She’d scratch you for real this time.” Sebastian quips from your side as he sits down on the makeshift lounge area that the three of you constructed with pillows and a blanket. You snap your head towards him as he looks at you with a boyish grin.

“You better stop that joke. It’s overused.” You glare at him as he opens a new book he got from wherever he went. After his mother made that little gag, he had taken the opportunity to further harass you with it. He had even developed a little nickname for you inspired by it.

“If you win against me in gobstones, perhaps I’ll let it go, Kit.” He smirks as he pinches your cheek to which you smack the boy’s hand away. He told you he had derived it from the word ‘kitten.’ It was a bad nickname and a word that meant anything other than the word kitten. You had told him about its absurdness and lack of creativity and that people would probably mistake it for a fox or a rabbit or worse, a weasel. He only shrugged in response and told you that it's fine as you probably looked like a kit of any animal with how adorable you were.

You had almost smacked him for his ill-mannered words.

“Are you guys excited about getting your letters?” Anne randomly interrupts as she leans back on her hands behind her back, eyes staring up at the ceiling littered with changing constellations. Your mother was an avid fan of astrology and had installed a ceiling that copied the state of the stars no matter what day it was. It was quite amazing to look at and even gave off the real feel of the night sky.

Your hands situate themselves on your lap as your eyes glance towards the window, watching as drops of rain hit the glass pane.

“Of course. It’s all Mom and Dad ever wanted.” Sebastian answers beside you, eyes still not leaving the piece of literature within his hands. Anne and Sebastian’s parents were professors themselves in Hogwarts. You imagine how hard the academic pressure must be for them.

Anne nods in understanding. “Hm. I know we’ll get in. I have no doubts about that.”

She then turns to you, expecting an answer. “What about you, Y/N?”

Sebastian turns to you as well, interested in your answer. The twins had come to know you as an aloof and closed off person. You had only shown the surface of your personality to everyone that you’ve met and both had made it their goal to dig deeper in that cold shell of yours. Your eyes continue to watch the pitter patter of rain from the window.

“I mean, it’s expected of me as a witch, no?” You reply as if it was an automatic response in your brain. You turn towards the twins with a subtle smile. “It’s either Hogwarts or nothing. Of course I’d be delighted to receive an acceptance letter.”

The two fall silent at your reply, eyes glancing at each other before turning back to you. You feel yourself tense up, thinking that maybe you had said the wrong thing before both twins erupt into laughter. They had even shoved each other as they laughed boisterously. You flush at their reaction.

Your parents had commented that you were too serious for your age and often wondered if you were your father’s mother reincarnated. You retorted that it was disrespectful to joke about your grandmother like that and they had only laughed in response. At that time, you thought that they were only joking around but now that you face the same exact situation except with people outside of your family, you begin to feel shy and embarrassed for being too serious about things.

You cover the lower half of your face with the back of your hand as an attempt to hide your flushed face but Anne dives in your arms and settles on your lap, hugging your waist. Sebastian smiles at the sight before moving close to pinch your nose.

“H-hey! Don’t you think it’s enough teasing for today?” Your voice stutters as you glare at him. If it was your usual menacing face, Sebastian would’ve stopped then and there but with the way your face contorted into a look of shyness and embarrassment, he was basically long gone in attempting to stop himself from further digging his own grave.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I won’t tell our schoolmates you act like a 70-year old grandma most of the time,” He whispers jokingly which earned a harsh slap on his arm. He yelped at the sudden act of violence which prompted a series of giggles from the girl on your lap.

“Stop teasing her, Seb! She’ll look like a tomato by the time you’re done with her.” Anne comes to your defense albeit in a teasing manner. You fall your fist gently on the top of her head but with enough force to reprimand the giggling gal on your lap. You let out a sigh as you watch the two chuckling in their own bubble.

You listen in on their quips about you as they chortle with lighthearted words and hearty laughter. Normally, you would berate them for their words and their audacity to even joke about you. You would even send them to their parents with tails tucked between their legs and tears running down their face but as you watch their face filled with joy, you could only smile at the warm atmosphere of it all.

Ah. Have I been too lax on these two?

It seems that you’ve failed to hide your fond look when Anne points it out with her loud voice. “Did you just smile?!”

The corners of your lips drop down in surprise before you open your book once more as an attempt to hide yourself. Anne scrambles up from your lap as she pulls the annoying object from your hands to stare at your face.

“Sebastian, she just smiled!” Anne squeals as she wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you in a bone crushing hug. You try to remove yourself from the tight grip around you but a force pushes you down on the pile of pillows and blankets.

Sebastian had taken it upon himself to add to your little hug-fest as he encases both of you in his arms. There was a moment of silence before the three of you erupt into laughter. It was as if the sound of your laughter had warmed their hearts as the twins pulled you closer in their arms.

You suppose getting used to this wasn’t so bad after all.

You were only 12 when Sebastian and Anne’s parents passed away.

You were in your second year when it happened. It was before the start of the semester and your manor was immediately sent an owl of the news. Thankful for the fast travel of floo flames, you immediately made your way to the Sallow home. 

You had been there a few times at the invitation of the Sallow family and loved the general warm atmosphere of the cozy home but now that you were here for a different reason, entering the house that was once filled with warmth and laughter suddenly was so different from what it once was.

Your eyes immediately see the twins sitting on the corner of the living area. Their uncle, Solomon Sallow had been the one to arrange the funeral. Apparently, a lamp in their cellar broke and an unidentified toxin was what caused their deaths. The moment your mother found out, she had already grabbed your coats and prepared you with an emotionless look on her face.

You barely listen to their exchange of condolences as you watch Sebastian’s blank stare and Anne’s shaking shoulders. You feel the urge to go to them but your eyes glance over to your parents who seem to be shifting their focus from their uncle to the twins. You allow them to greet Anne and Sebastian first.

You watch as your mother embraces the two in their arms, whispering words of comfort as she lets Anne bury her face in your mother’s shawl. Your father pats Sebastian’s head as he gives him a smile of sympathy.

Then your eyes meet. Brown meets E/C. At that moment, you felt a lump in your throat at the dullness of the swirls of brown that once held light and warmth in them. In a moment of weakness, you take two long strides, pulling the Sallow boy in your arms. It was as if that was all he ever needed as he burst out into tears at your sudden comfort. You hug him tightly, hands rubbing his back in a soothing manner as he clings to you like a babe missing the warmth of its mother.

You feel no tears escape your eyes but a heavy feeling settles deep within your stomach at the passing of two great educators. You remember their excitement when you got sorted into your house. Their little cheers and waves for you from their seats at the podium.

They were like second parents to you. Astoria often sneaked you in and the twins in her office on your free time when you were only first years. A little boy had also joined you, Ominis was his name. He had immediately clinged onto Sebastian the moment they had met. The four of you would hang out in her office, preying on her treats as she graded schoolwork from her desk.

She would pretend not to notice but you knew she did. You caught her, obviously and she only responded with a cheeky wink. She had always said you were too smart for your age and often asked you to keep an eye on her two little 'munchkins.' You hated the nickname but you were just glad it wasn't directed at you.

"How are you feeling?" You mumble quietly as you hold hands with Sebastian. You had led him to one of the sofas, his presence never leaving yours as he clung to your coat. He rests his head on your shoulder as you gently pat his hands in a comforting rhythm with your free hand while the other encases it in a gentle grip.

"I don't know." He replies— almost whispers even. You glance at your father who had lifted Anne in his arms, gently swaying her to sleep as she clung onto him tightly. Anne had a small stature for her age and was often mistaken to be younger. This often led to your parents to baby her as if she was younger than the both of you despite being the same age. 

You turn your attention back to Sebastian who now had his eyes closed. You rest your free hand on top of your intertwined hands as you lean your head on top of his. "I'm here. I'll always be here."

You didn't know what came over you to say that but you feel Sebastian relax as he curled more into you. He responds with a relieved tone.

"I know."

You were 13 when you saw him in a different light.

This time it was Imelda's fault. If only that girl didn't open her mouth and began feeding you ideas, you wouldn't have suffered as a result.

"Does Sebastian know that he coddles you?" Imelda asked bluntly as she took a bite of her food. You had almost choked at the sudden question. The Slytherin gal only tilts her in amusement as you cough into your fist.

You were currently seated in the Great Hall, having your breakfast. There was still an hour left before your first class so you took your time in eating. You had met up with Imelda on your way to the hall as you got too tired on waiting for the twins and Ominis to show up. 

There were only a few people who had shown up this early so you basically had some sort of privacy with how far apart the others were seated from you. You were glad you didn't have to force her to shut the fuck up for saying such an absurd thing that could be a root for rumors.

"He does not coddle me, Imelda," You correct her, fork moving the peas across your plate. "He's just…. Sebastian. He does that with Anne."

"Oh really?" She smiles mockingly as she takes a bite of her cornbread. "Sebastian has always been protective of Anne. It's the fact that he's protective with someone other than Anne that's suspicious. That someone is also coincidentally, you."

"We grew up together." You reason with her.

"And so do the rest of our batchmates! We were all together in our first year. That counts as growing up together. Do you see him doing that to Samantha Dale?" She counters. You purse your lips in annoyance. "Plus, it isn't even the one he does with Anne. It's more like a guard dog protecting its owner."

"....A guard dog?" You swear this girl had the strangest imagination when it comes to insulting Sallow.

"Yes," She leans forward to further emphasize her point. "You should see his face whenever Leander tries to talk with you. He looks like he'll infect rabies the second Prewett reaches within 5 inches of your space."

Imelda giggles, mouth still full of food before taking another bite. You would've chastised her for being uncouth but she glanced at the entrance of the hall after she took big gulps of the pumpkin juice. "Speak of the devil, there he is."

You turn your head towards where Imelda's looking at and find yourself staring at familiar pools of brown. Sebastian smiles as he jogs over to you, leaving a sleepy Anne and an exasperated Ominis to make their way over to your table.

"I didn't see you by the statue." Sebastian sighs as ruffles your hair, ruining your hairstyle for the day. You sigh, not even bothered by it anymore. He sits beside you before pulling out your favorite sweets from Honeydukes. Your eyes light up at the treat. "Bought you some from my trip with Anne yesterday."

You send him a smile as you take the sweet from his hands. "Thanks."

Ominis and Anne arrive with tired looks on their faces. Imelda glances at them with a raised eyebrow.

"The fuck happened to you two?" Imelda asks. You could feel the irritation emit from the blonde and you wonder what exactly did Sebastian do to have the young Gaunt in fumes this early in the morning?

"Sebastian has a habit of waking us earlier than necessary. Anne and I have the same schedule today. For the rest of the semester, mind you. Our classes start in the afternoon, so there's no reason for us to wake up this early." Ominis grumbles in annoyance as he sits down on your other side. You glance at him, gently patting his arm in sympathy. He takes a moment to greet you with a smile before turning to Imelda. "Also, language?"

"Yeah, yeah." Imelda rolls her eyes. Anne sits down beside Imelda to rest her head on her shoulder. "I am not your personal pillow, Sallow. Move."

"No one calls me that. I shan't move because of it."  Anne mumbles sleepily as she clings to Imelda, trying to catch up on her sleep. She then mutters one more thing as if to get on your nerves. "Sebastian only woke us up because Y/N's awake. Otherwise, I'd be sleeping through Neverland right now."

Imelda glances at you with a knowing look to which you widen your eyes at her as if to shut her up. Sebastian is unbothered by Anne's words as he finishes his food before turning his undivided attention to you. He begins to stare.

Normally, you would pass it off as Sebastian just being Sebastian but for some reason, after Imelda's words, you find yourself becoming tense under his gaze. Did her words truly affect you that much?

Out of nowhere, he leans his head on your shoulder causing you to tense. To add to your misery, he grabs one of your hands to intertwine your hands together. Was this boy trying to kill you purposefully?

Imelda smirks at the view in front of her before nudging Anne's head off her shoulder as she rises up from her seat. The younger Sallow groans before moving to rest her head on her arms on the table. To further infuriate you, Imelda coughs pathetically in her fist as she blurts out the words, trying to hide it in her poor attempt of coughing. "Guard dog."

You send her a heated glare as she scurries off to her other friends who were also leaving the Great Hall. Sebastian raises his head at the sound of Imelda leaving, watching the Slytherin girl for a moment then turning to you.

You turn towards him, an attempt to prove yourself wrong but you only find yourself heating up at his boyish gaze.

"What's wrong?" He asks. You turn away in a blink of an eye 

"Nothing." 

Merlin, you didn't expect seeing him differently because of Imelda's meddling but here you are now. Stuttering over something as simple as Sebastian staring at you.

You were going to kill Reyes.

You were 15 when you first became jealous.

It came on three different occasions. Each worse than the last.

The first incident was only a fleeting thought.

A new fifth year was announced to be joining the school and with all the commotion you heard around this enigma of a person, you expected her to be in the main spotlight of school rumors for a while. You watched with bated breath as she stepped on the podium to get herself sorted. You were once nervous and timid like her as she allowed the sorting hat to analyze the depths of her mind.

In the midst of watching her get sorted, you feel a movement beside you causing your head to turn towards it. Your eyes meet pools of brown as the boy had sneaked in to sit beside you.

“Where were you?” You whispered in obvious concern as the Sallow boy fixed his cloak with a firm tug. You began to notice over the past few months that your best friend had begun to act more secretive and often wandered in far places. Your eyes glance towards the back as you notice Ominis take a seat beside Imelda. He had also tried to drag the young Gaunt with him to whatever escapade he went to.

You suppose it's because of Anne’s illness that he’s like this. The other Sallow twin had fallen ill after a grim encounter with a dark wizard. This caused her to be put on a health break and to be monitored by their uncle, Solomon, at their home in Feldcroft. Sebastian was quiet and unreadable for those few months. Ominis and you visited them in their little cottage in Feldcroft after hearing what happened and you were almost scared with how weak Anne was. You grew protective of the girl who you saw as a younger sister despite your similar ages. 

Sebastian had also confided in you. You think it was an effect you had on him after that moment of comfort when you were merely 12 years old. You thought it had passed but apparently his need for comfort from you stayed behind. The two of you would talk outside and glance up at the stars as his knee softly nudges against yours.

You had come to terms that you had grown feelings for Sebastian Sallow. It wasn’t hard to fall for him, you suppose. He always had that charm both physically and personality wise. It didn’t help that he had begun to be more noticeable to your peers as well. There had been a ranking amongst the girls of your year about who they deem the most attractive out of all their male yearmates. Sebastian was ranked first.

Of course he did. You just didn’t know if you’d feel proud or threatened that a lot of your yearmates found your best friend attractive but no one had made a move on him so you think you’re safe.

Sebastian leans forward to rest his arms on the table as he watches the new fifth year get sorted. “Ominis and I practiced some spells in the undercroft. That place got dusty, I should find a house elf to look after it during term breaks.”

You shoot him a pointed look. “Practice? Spells? The academic year hasn’t even started, Seb.”

Sebastian smirks at you. Your lips almost waver at his attractiveness. “Chill, Kit. Nothing, a little confringo won’t hurt nobody.”

Your jaw drops before you glance around to see if anybody is listening to you. You lean your body towards him to whisper your words just between you two. “I told you to stop with those spells! It’ll be a matter of time before we learn it anyway. Last time you did that, you almost singed your eyebrows off. Don’t worry Anne.”

Sebastian scoffs as he takes a sip of his pumpkin juice. He puts it down before glancing at you, eyes flickering all over your face before sending you a cheeky grin. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

You roll your eyes at him as you lean back to your original position. You see Sebastian stare at the new fifth year from the corner of your eye. It seems as if he’s not yet finished with talking as he leans close to start another conversation.

“I already heard things about the new fifth year. Got caught up in a dragon attack. Isn’t that cool?” He whispers in mild amusement as you feel his shoulders bump against yours. You turn to him with a deadpan stare.

“You mean almost dying and getting chewed up? That’s cool for you?” You reply in a monotonous voice. Sebastian giggles at your sarcastic tone, nudging you  slightly as he laughs with his whole body. 

“Not that. I mean just surviving and being able to hold against a dragon. That’s pretty admirable.” He sighs dreamily as he watches the sorting hat continue to spat out questions to the gal. “Nora Finley. Quite a memorable name, no?”

You stared at him with an unreadable look as a heavy feeling settled on your stomach. You know you should think nothing about it but hearing him praise someone else caused a stir in your poor heart. It was too petty of you and so you just let it be.

He catches your eye, head tilting like a dog confused. You shake your head and sigh before you hear the sorting hat shout, another reason for dread to knock on your bones.

“Slytherin!”

You hear Sebastian cheer beside you as applause erupts at another addition to the Slytherin house. You couldn’t help but feel anxiety crawling up your throat.

The second was your realization.

“Where’s Sebastian?” You ask as you sit beside Ominis Gaunt who was doing school work alongside Natsai Onai. You take a moment to smile at the Gryffindor who returns your greeting enthusiastically. “I thought he was going to be reviewing with us for our potions test?”

Ominis is silent for a moment as his hand brushes across the page of the book engraved in braille. You turn to Natty with furrowed eyebrows in confusion. The Uagadou transferee shrugged her shoulders as she gave you a sympathetic look. Before you could further give the poor girl more confused stares, Ominis finally answers.

“He’s out with the new fifth year. Didn’t even give me a notice he’d be gone. I was sitting like an idiot outside the courtyard waiting for him.” He huffs in indifference as he turns a page. Your heart drops at the mention of the fifth year.

You had met her a few times. Once during DADA after she had been asked by Professor Hecat to take Sebastian Sallow on a duel. You weren’t worried about Sebastian at all; He had won every duel in both crossed wands and the comforts of the DADA classroom so rest assured, you believed in his capabilities as a duelist. It was more of what would happen after that worried you. You were quite surprised to see that Nora had defeated Sebastian and was even praised by your professor. You thought it was only luck as you watched her converse with Sebastian for a few moments before the Sallow boy had called you over as he took your bag in his arm to walk you to your next class. 

You were clearly proven wrong after hearing the results of her crossed wand duels and that she had appeared to be the champion of the tournament.

You asked him once on the way to your next class about what he thought of Nora after his duel with her and you couldn’t believe the same brown eyes which lost their dullness the moment his parents died had begun to light up once more at the mention of Nora Finley’s name.

“She’s nice, Y/N. Think it’d be okay if we invite her to our little group?”

You began having nightmares ever since. 

Returning to present time, you shift uncomfortably in your seat as you open your notes to start your review. Ominis, reminding you of your father for his perceptiveness, turns his head towards you.

“If it matters, it was Professor Weasley who asked him to accompany her to Hogsmeade.” Ominis pats your back as if to comfort your worries before turning back to his review. You sigh in response at his try of easing your complicated mind. It was inevitable for Ominis to find out about it. Anne knew it with just a glance considering that you three had grown up together. Ominis though was calculating and observing. He had never explicitly told you that he knew but he spoke as if he did whenever you worried over Sebastian.

At this point, you knew he knew but just didn’t want to voice it out loud for your sake.

You were too late to dismiss his words as you met eyes with Natsai Onai who looked at you with giddy curiosity.

She bites her lip before voicing what Ominis couldn’t. “You like Sebastian?”

“Natty–”

“Oh my! I should’ve noticed. It was obvious– But wait, I thought you were already dating?” She shoots out multiple words that you were sure you wouldn’t catch if you didn’t have your focus on her. You give her an incredulous stare.

“They’re not. Which is absurd by the way.” Ominis chimes nonchalantly. You turn towards your best friend with a glare. Whether he feels the heaviness of your stare or not, he only smiles in response.

Natsai leans forward to grab your wrist with a giddy smile on her face. “Do not worry, Rafiki. I am on your side.”

You furrow your eyebrows as she claps enthusiastically before sending you two thumbs up. You turn to Ominis for an explanation. “What is she talking about?”

The young Gaunt snorts. “You don’t wanna know.”

The third was your conclusion.

“You invited her here?!”

You almost feel your blood pressure overflow at the sight in front of you. Anne had invited you over after receiving a letter from her brother that he would be visiting Feldcroft with a present for her. The two of you had grown distant over the past couple of weeks with him being busy with Nora and all. The two always seemed like they were up and ready for whatever escapade they’re planning for the day. You even hear news of the two defeating a troll in Hogsmeade.

It seems that Sebastian had already found someone else to pour his attention to. Your father would probably laugh at you for looking like a kicked puppy but Sebastian had always pampered you with his attention ever since the two of you were only seven. It became a bit more severe as he grew older and along with that sudden change came the questions between the two of you. It was understandable considering he acted as if he was actually courting you. Walking you to class, carrying your bag, hugging you freely, playing with your hair, leaning against you and all that shebang.

You enjoyed it all. You just wished he did it with intention.

But you couldn’t possibly let him know that. After all, you were only friends.

Back to the present, Sebastian stood with his hands tucked in the pocket of his coat as Nora conversed with Anne in the foyer of their little cottage. Sebastian glares at you for your sudden opposement to Nora’s arrival.

“I don’t understand why you’re so adamant on this. Anne knows her already.” Sebastian keeps his voice calm as he steps to block you from the two’s line of sight. It was a small gesture of allowing the two of you privacy, you heart wavered slightly. You look up at him with furrowed eyebrows. To further emphasize his point, he motions a hand to the two who were chatting freely with each other. “Look! Anne’s already warmed up. I don’t see the point of this argument.”

You let out an annoyed huff. “It's the fact that you disappear on me for a week and suddenly you’re inviting the new fifth year over.”

Sebastian runs his palm over his face. You feel the irritation emitting from his body language. “I invited Ominis and you here. What’s the difference?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the subliminal messages behind his actions. Was it so hard to understand that spending a week with a lady then bringing her home to your family meant something else? Did this boy really not have social cues at all?

You only hope continuously in your head as the nail of your index finger scratches the side of your thumb, a habit you developed because of anxiety, that he was just merely dumb and just wanted to introduce his friend and that this wasn’t what you think it is.

To further agitate you, he mentions your apprehension to Nora as well. “I’ve noticed your hesitance around her these past few months. She’s done nothing but be nice to us. What is really going on with you, Y/N?”

You let a moment of vulnerability pass through you as you feel small under Sebastian’s calculating gaze. You turn your gaze away, unable to keep eye contact. Your head was running on and on and on with Sebastian and that new fifth year. You felt threatened and so you avoided them like a coward. You couldn’t bring yourself to march into their shared presence, afraid that you might interrupt something. It didn’t help that Ominis had also warmed up to her after their little encounter by the entrance of the undercroft after you and Ominis had caught her exiting the secret hideout.

You suddenly felt ashamed of yourself.

It seems as if it apparently had shown on your face as Sebastian steps close to cup your cheeks within his rough but gentle hands. You look back up at him in surprise– cheeks heating at his concerned gaze. He tilts his head gently, eyes locked on yours. Your heart beats fast, breath quickening at the proximity of your faces. 

If you moved an inch, you could–

“Y/N.” He mumbles, eyebrows furrowed. “Little kit. What’s wrong, love?”

You purse your lips at the nickname, becoming emotional from hearing it once again. Tears brim your eyes as your hands grab the fabric of his coat. Your grip is tight and desperate. You couldn’t tell if he knew and you hope your face is able to convey such emotions.

“Are you still with me?” You ask, vague but the intention is there. Sebastian’s eyes dart back and forth across your face. Somehow he understands as he sees you glance to your side where the two ladies are still busy with their chatting.

He understands as he places a kiss on your forehead before pulling you in his arms. He understands as he allows you to bury your face on his shoulder as he gently rubs your back in soothing circles. Like what you did for him.

“I am. I always am.”

Originally, you promised Anne to give her a painting as a gift and so you went to Feldcroft with your materials and all. Anne had given you creative freedom with an exception. You expected to draw a portrait of her but somehow, a different figure had formed on your canvas. You glance towards your subject who had taken off his coat and pulled his sleeves up to his arms as he helped his sister and the new fifth year prepare dinner.

You were situated on the corner, easel propped up, canvas set and paintbrush within your grasp, hanging a few inches from the medium. Your eyes had found themselves entranced at his glowing aura. The sun had hit him so nicely as he laughed at whatever joke Anne had concocted.

You were about to redo the sketch but then you once again meet pools of brown, the sunlight hitting his side so nicely that his right eye had even turned into a honey gold color. You feel your breath hitch as he sends you a smile before turning back to the two.

With pursed lips, you look down at the canvas. Your cheeks heat up as Anne’s words echo in your mind.  Your paintbrush begins to do its magic.

You were 17 when you received the news.

To my dearest daughter, Y/N.

Hello darling, I hope all is well. I hear you and Sebastian are still getting along quite well. I do hope Anne gets better soon. I visited her last week and she seems to have gotten better albeit still pale but not as worse as before. Anyways, I don’t mean to intrude on your wonderful time there but your years in Hogwarts are coming to an end. I do hope you understand that ensuring the continuity of our bloodline has always been an important part of our family as wizards and witches. Although I won’t mind if you have anyone reserved in your heart (which I doubt you’ll do something about it), I was contacted by Mrs. Weasley in regards to your hand in marriage. She wants you to get to know Garreth. Just a little bit. I know this won’t change your mind but can you at least try for me, love? 

At least until you do something about that lack of courage of yours. I didn’t raise a quitter!

Love,

Mom.

Your jaw drops as you reread the letter again and again. Your mother had done something stupid once more. You hadn’t expected her to do something as absurd as this but you suppose, this had also been partly your fault.

Despite your parents being open and understanding of you, they were still quite traditional in certain things such as continuing your bloodline. Your brother was still a third year and was still far off from graduating or pursuing a family, so the role rests on your hands. You didn’t mind getting married but you hoped that at least it would be with someone you enjoyed being in the presence of. 

Someone who had great capabilities and eventually someone you’ll grow to love.

….. Or already love.

Like him.

Your cheeks blush at the thought as you close the letter in your grasp. You were currently outside the castle and in the front garden. Your owl had immediately dropped it in your care as it spotted you during its flight. You wished it could’ve just delivered it in your room but what’s done is done. 

Before you could continue to wallow in misery, you hear someone calling out to you. Turning to the direction of the voice, you see Garreth jogging up to your direction before lightly panting as he stops in front of you. 

You smile awkwardly, just having read that disaster of a letter and now the subject of the message was right in front of you. “Garreth.”

“Y/N,” Garreth smiles before standing upright as he finally calms himself down. “Before you say anything, I know you’ve received the letter. I know because I received mine as well.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. The Weasley boy smiles sheepishly before continuing.

“Look, you’re really beautiful. Like actually. I think people would get mad at me for being engaged to you and I know this might sound rude and I don’t want it to mean like that! It’s just–” He pauses for a moment before resuming his rambling. You let out an amused smile. “I just don’t think we’re a good fit. A Y/L/N and a Weasley? I think my mother was nuts when she tried pairing us up. No offense though.”

“None taken.” You giggle softly as he flushes an embarrassed red. You were glad that you were on the same page. At least you didn’t have to pretend to get to know him. “I apologize for this mess, Garreth. If only my mother wasn’t so insistent in finding me future prospects.”

“Ah, please! No no.” He shakes his hands towards you in disagreement. “It’s purely my side. Mother is still quite smitten with you ever since you came over when we were little. Despite making me cry, she found you to be quite elegant and charming and wanted you to be her daughter-in-law. Just didn’t expect that it’d be me she’d use.”

You chuckle at his disappointed tone. “Well, who’d you expect she’d pair me up with?”

“I don’t know? My older brother? He’s more of a Weasley than me.” He smiles lopsidedly. You tilt your head in sheer amusement at his suggestion.

“Garreth, your brother is at least 10 years older than I am.” You laugh. Garreth blushes once more, sounding a sheepish ‘right’ at his previous response. Despite not being that close, being with Garreth was surprisingly not that awkward. He was a lively Gryffindor who always managed to keep the conversation afloat despite him being embarrassed and shy about his situation.

You would’ve agreed to marry him if it weren’t for a certain someone who had already made his place in your heart. 

Speaking of that certain someone. He was surprisingly late on your agreed time to meet up at the entrance of the castle. You turn to Garreth with an abashed look plastered on your face.

“It’s really nice to meet up with you, Garreth but I do have to meet someone.” You clutch your satchel within your grasp as the redhead smiles at your excuse to leave.

“Sebastian, I assume?”

You pause for a moment, jaw wavering at the direct guess. “... Uh yeah, how’d you know?”

Garreth smirks, a boyish look gracing his face. “How does anyone not know?”

With a cryptic response, he gives you one last smile and a nod before making his way towards the group of students flying kites a few meters from you. You blink in confusion before heat travels to your cheeks at the idea of everybody knowing that there’s something going on between you two. Sebastian hadn’t exactly denied anything and neither did you (simply because you enjoyed being paired up together) so the rumors didn’t go away. 

That was a topic for another time. Right now, you need to find the Sallow boy. 

You first march your way to the Defense against the Dark Arts tower, opting to check out the undercroft first as him and Ominis often frequented the hideout as of late. You had also befriended Nora recently. The poor gal was slightly afraid of you because of your hesitance in befriending her. You reassured her that it was more of a personal problem and had nothing to do with her. 

And then it was like another Anne had joined your group. She had immediately engulfed you in a hug and rambled about how she had always idolized you. You had a reputation in Hogwarts to be elegant in the things that you did. It was a product of self discipline at an early age really. A pat on the back that your younger self definitely deserved whenever she acted like a 70-year old grandmother (Sebastian’s words, not yours). It was also because of this that you had a lot of admirers but only a few dared to approach you. Some were too intimidated and some only loved the idea of you from afar. The others were mostly scared off by Sebastian. 

You had finally agreed with Imelda after seeing him scare a fourth year after the young boy tried confessing to you. You tried to calm Sebastian down but he had only scoffed at the young boy who had run away, crying. After that though, Sebastian had become touchy and affectionate.

Holding your waist, intertwining your hands under the table and even placing a kiss on your forehead in public grounds. You had to pinch his side to stop him from getting so overprotective (possessive is the right term but we can’t say that yet) over you.

Already missing his presence, you had daydreamed as you leaned against one of the pillars, awaiting for his appearance. Unaware of your surroundings, you are suddenly grabbed by the waist and pulled against a lean chest. You let out a squeal as the culprit had encased you in a back-hug and you could only deduce who would have the gall to grab you like this.

“Sebastian! Put me down!” You shriek as you hit his unmovable arms on your waist. You spot Nora walking to the front, sending you a knowing look as she watches with amusement. You tried to ask for help but she had only shrugged and moved towards Ominis who had only come out of class. She immediately dived in his arms as the poor boy scrambled to catch her.

Who would expect those two huh? Then again, you shouldn’t complain as your attention was mostly on this idiot behind you.

“I missed you, Kit.” Sebastian whined like a child as he let you down but still didn’t let you go as his arms pulled you tighter against his chest. You huff in annoyance as he burrows his face on your neck, unashamedly hugging you in the corridors. You try to hit his arms once more, but he had only chuckled (rather deeply at that) at your attempts to break free.

“You see me everyday– Now let me go! I don’t want to get reprimanded because of your idiocy.” You berated him as you still struggle in his grasp. The brunette shook his head, placing a kiss on your cheek which caused you to flush almost instantly. “S-Sebastian!”

“Alright, fine.” He rolls his eyes as he lets you go begrudgingly. You turn around with a glare to which he giggles at and pinches your cheek. “Cute.”

“I’ll kill you myself someday.” You mutter under your breath as you step to the side, allowing your hand to be intertwined with his as he leads you to the other two. Nora glances down at your intertwined hands before smiling wide at you. You had squinted your eyes at her, her innocent facade appearing too suspicious.

“Done with your theatrics, Sebastian?” Ominis sighs as he intertwines his hand with Nora. The brunette whistles a tune as he tucks your hands inside the pockets of his cloak. Your cheeks warm at the gesture. 

“Sure, Ominis. Sure.” The Sallow boy sarcastically replies before turning his head to focus on the students leaving the DADA classroom. Ominis then addresses you with an unexpected topic of conversation.

“Right. Y/N. I expect you’ve received a letter from your mother? I just received one from mine as well.” Ominis sounds exasperated at the mention of his family. “The social circles are pairing us up now. I had already declined but I hear you were paired with someone? Have you read it?”

Now the attention was on you. Your eyes glance at the two pairs of eyes staring directly at you, gaze unwavering and solid. Your jaw flutters in nervousness as you feel Sebastian’s hand grip yours tightly within the pocket of his cloak.

You let out a sigh of defeat. “... I was paired up with… Garreth.”

“Weasley?!” Both Nora and Sebastian exclaimed to which you and Ominis smacked their shoulders to shut them up. You were glad that some students had only glanced at you for a moment before moving on with their day. You weren’t sure if you could handle another gossip roaming the halls.

“Can you two keep it down?” Ominis chastises before continuing. “But why Garreth? I thought it would be…”

He trailed off but you knew who he was referring to. Sebastian has grown quiet but his grip on your hand is still tight. You glance at the object of your desires before responding. “It’s alright, it was a mutual decline. Garreth didn’t think we would work and I think so too.”

Nora lets out an audible sigh of relief to which you smile, amused. Ominis only nods in understanding but you could see his relaxed shoulders. It seems everyone had expected who you’d end up with which made you kind of giddy to be honest. Then you hear Sebastian scoff. You turn to him at the sound of his voice.

“He’s an idiot for not seeing your worth,” Sebastian replies, eyes dark and unreadable. He then looks at you and for a moment you’re unable to look away from it. “But I’m glad he was.”

You flush at his subtle confession and from the corner of your eye, you could see Nora’s jaw drop and Ominis scoff at Sebastian’s attempt to woo you. 

You weren’t able to reply as the brunette had already dragged you off to your next class.

You were 21 when it happened.

A few years had passed after your graduation from Hogwarts and well everyone had expected that the two of you somehow at one point, had already kissed and made out and done all that crazy stuff.

No. Nothing happened.

Aside from the usual lingering hugs and fond looks the two of you give each other, nothing had happened much. You had declined marriage offers much to your mother's chagrin but you had reassured her you'd try and solve this issue of yours to make her happy.

She wanted Sebastian to be part of the family, of course. But it was taking too long and if you didn't have a possible suitor by the time you were 25, your mother would go ballistics on you. You try your best to prevent that from happening as you worry for another unexpected situation like that one time she and Garreth's mother tried to pair you two up together.

Now working as part of the ministry, you were placed in the Department of Magical Cooperation. It was a tough spot to get in but luckily with your outstanding performance and reputation, you were accepted to be part of the team. 

Nora had opted to work in the magizoology field alongside Ominis while you and Sebastian landed your jobs at the ministry. It was expected after all. Sebastian was a talented wizard and he was immediately recruited after graduating.

Your relationship however, had also changed. Gone were the days where Sebastian was practically attached to you by the hip. You had expected that you were going to see each other since working in the same field but you had barely seen the man as he was required in almost every case the Auror division had been working on.

You saw him amongst important figures while you stood on the sidelines. Not once had he glanced your way and you fear that this might be the last time you’ll ever get to be with him and after that, someone might take him away from you.

Someone nicer.

More interesting.

Prettier.

Not the stone faced girl who he had only tolerated just because his parents were friends with hers.

Your head drops as thoughts of self doubt fill your mind. It has been a few months since you’ve properly spoken to Sebastian. He had sent a few letters here and there but that was about it. Your mother would probably be disappointed. 

You sighed for the nth time before an owl flew inside through the open window of your home. You gasp at its feathers flapping as it lands gracefully on the window sill. You notice a letter tied on its claw before carefully untying it. You feed the gentle bird a sugar cube, watching as it flies away. You open the letter with bated breath. There were only a few people who would send you an owl these past few days and your mother had already sent hers last week while your brother was yesterday. Who else would be sending?

You let out a sigh as you recognize the handwriting.

Hey bitch,

We’re in town. We’re dropping by.

Love,

Your favorite Slytherin

P.S I’m with your lover boy and the annoying couple. Save me!

Your eyebrows furrow as you reread the letter over and over. You had deduced from the rather crude and short letter that the sender was Imelda. After years of tolerating her crass language, you were sure no one other than her would start the letter with a curse word. You had also deduced that she would not be alone, judging from the added note on the bottom. By annoying couple, that meant Nora and Ominis. They had probably met up together somewhere.

Your eyes scan the words lover boy once more. You knew who this was of course. Imelda also had Sebastian with her and they were going to crash in your flat.

You let out a groan as you assess the state of your home. It wasn’t exactly messy but there were a few things out of place and that needed cleaning. You let out a sigh, placing the letter on your desk before making your way to clean up.

You planned to have a general cleaning last week but work was too hectic. Might as well take this chance to clean up.

You are certainly not dressed up.

Okay. Maybe you were, judging from your slightly different hairstyle and the flowy dress you had gotten as a gift from a co-worker who claimed that your wardrobe was too depressing with the amount of blacks and whites you wear to work. It was a flowy beige dress that reached a few inches below your knees. You opted just wearing your slippers as it was probably just a house hang-out.

You sat on your couch, eyeing the alcohol arrangement on your coffee table before reaching out to slightly tilt the wine bottle to another 10 degrees. You probably look like an idiot. Trying to look good for someone who had probably forgotten you over the span of a few months. You let out a sigh as you place your hands on your lap.

Before you could further criticize your interior decor and all, you hear the sound of your door knocker hitting the wooden surface of your door quite loudly. You sprang up in surprise at the sound before making your way over to the door. In an attempt to fix yourself at the last minute, you take a look at the mirror near to your main door, fixing any stray hairs that might’ve escaped your hairdo. You let out a breath as you send looks of encouragement to yourself through the reflection of the mirror.

You hear the chatter outside– mostly it’s Imelda chastising whoever it was that fell under her judgemental gaze. You remove the locks before opening the door to find four figures standing outside. It was Nora who greeted you first.

“Y/N! It’s been so long!” The red head grabbed you in an embrace to which you returned with the same enthusiasm. She releases you with a fond look on her face before you motion her inside.

“Did you get my letter?” Imelda smirks like the menace that she is. Now a professional Quidditch player, you seldom saw the former Slytherin gal after you had graduated. You were definitely glad to see her now. You pull her in a tight hug.

“Of course I did. I would’ve been asleep by now if I didn’t.” You quipped with a wide grin as she ruffled your hair at your jesting. You push her inside before turning to Ominis who was already smiling at the feel of your presence. You immediately pull him in a hug as he holds you closely.

“Hello, Y/N.” He mumbles as he places a peck on the side of your head, gently rocking you side to side. You giggle at his brotherly behavior before pulling away to cup his cheek. He pats the hand against his face before Nora fetches him behind you.

You allow yourself to linger your gaze towards the three who had immediately made themselves at home before turning to the final guest of the night. There stands in all his glory, Sebastian Sallow. Dressed in his usual black coat, black suit and black tie, he tucks his hands inside his pockets as he sends you a dazzling smile.

“Hey, Kit.” He mumbles lowly and you almost feel yourself weakened at the mention of the nickname you haven’t heard in months. You don’t allow yourself to waver as you stare him down with your cold gaze. He heaves out a sigh. “I guess I owe some explaining to do.”

“Yeah, beat his fucking ass, Y/N!” Imelda yells from her spot in the kitchen. You hear Nora telling her to not drink so early while Ominis just laughs at the two. You chuckle at your friends’ usual selves before turning your attention back to Sebastian who had not moved his eyes from you.

He takes a step inside, hand reaching out to grab yours. Your eyes look down to watch as he holds your smaller hand within his grasp, thumb rubbing the back of your hand gently. You look up at him as he stares at you with an apologetic gaze. You knew you should be mad at him but with the way he’s staring at you like you’re the whole world to him, you just knew you couldn’t.

You’d always be weak for Sebastian Sallow.

A smile bleeds out of your facade and the brunette takes it as a chance to pull you in his arms. This hug was intimate and desperate. Your bodies pressed so close together, you’d feel his body warmth against yours. Your arms wrap around his neck as he holds you close by the waist. You hear him inhale your scent as he buries his face on your neck. At some point, he had moved you inside and pressed you against the wall, rendering you trapped between him and the hard surface.

You didn’t really have any complaints.

You pull him closer as he lets out a breath against your neck. You bite your lip, trying to keep the sounds in at the feel of his breath tickling your skin. You were a grown woman and the man hugging you right now was the love of your life. Who wouldn’t be flustered at the smallest of things?

After a few more minutes, you run your fingers through Sebastian’s hair, twirling the curls as you gently whisper the words to him. “We should go with them.”

He had remained stationary on your neck, inhaling your scent and all. He heaves out a groan before slightly moving back, placing a kiss on your cheek and finally facing you.

There was certainly tension. The kind that you could cut with a knife. You were scared to acknowledge it as both of you stare at each other as if you have things to say and confess but no one makes a move. He only pulls away and grabs your hand in his before pulling you towards the lounge area where the three had already opened the wine and champagne.

“Did you finally just kiss it out?” Imelda asks rather bluntly, which earned a slap on her arm from Nora. The two of you ignore her quip as you sit beside Sebastian on the loveseat, heartbeat stuttering as his thigh presses against yours while his arm finds its way behind you. 

Sebastian gives you a glass of champagne as he gets his own before smiling as he clinks glasses with you.

As you take your first sip, you allow yourself to let loose and bask in the presence of the people who you had come to know as part of your family.

“Can we take one of the rooms, Y/N?” Nora asks with her nose scrunched, obviously affected by the amount of alcohol she had downed. Ominis stands beside her, arm slung over her shoulder with his head dropped on her shoulder. You hear Ominis mumbling but the pair stood far enough for you not to hear.

“Yeah sure. First door on your right.” You smile as you nod towards the hall on their left. Nora sends you a thankful smile before making her way to the room by your direction. Imelda is face flat on one of the couches, blacked out after downing half of the wine bottle. You can take your alcohol quite well but you were sure you were tipsy as well.

Sebastian had gone up to use the loo, leaving you alone in the comforts of your living room. Having the need to occupy your hands with something, you stand up to place the empty wine glasses in the kitchen. You apparently also underestimated your level of tipsiness as you felt yourself stumble at the sudden change of positions. 

An arm on your waist immediately stables you to stand as you grip on it in support.

“Woah there, darling.” Sebastian chuckles as you lean against him for support. “Careful.”

You furrow your eyebrows at the sudden dizziness before slowly regaining composure. You place a hand on his shoulder as you stand on your two feet before giggling. “Sorry. I’m a bit tipsy, my mistake for standing so fast.”

Sebastian smiles at your carefree nature, influenced by the alcohol. You look up at him, corners of your lip still turned up in a smile. You watch as Sebastian's eyes crinkle as he looks down at you fondly. God, this man was going to be the end of you.

“Ready to go to bed?” He asks as he offers a hand to help you. You certainly didn’t want this moment alone with him to end so shortly. You shake your head as you walk towards one of the doors in the hallway on the left. Sebastian makes cautious steps as he follows you to ensure you wouldn’t fall and trip on your own. You stop at the 2nd to the last door on the left, smiling as you look back at Sebastian.

You certainly didn’t have this confidence if you were sober. Sebastian stares at you with an amused smile.

“So, while you were gone,” You jest as you turn your back against the wooden surface of the door. Sebastian smirks at your playful insult as he stands in front of you. “I got back into painting. Which was like… Eons ago.”

Sebastian chuckles. “Yeah, I remember you painting back then. You almost did everything if I recall correctly. The esteemed little lady of House Y/L/N, right?”

You pout at the mention of the title, gently slamming your fist against his chest. You didn’t expect it to be so hard though and he had even barely moved. Not affected by 40% of your strength. That was …. Unnecessarily hot. You push those thoughts away as you continue your main task at present.

“Stop. Sh.” You place your index finger against your lips, shushing his further attempts in teasing you. The brunette bites his lip, trying to contain his smile as he waits for you to continue. “Anyways, I was supposed to give this to Anne like years ago but I never did because I was too embarrassed by it.”

Sebastian furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “But your works are magnificent though?”

“You flatter me, Sallow.” You giggle as you rest the back of your head against the door. “Guess again.”

Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest as his gaze dances across your face. “Was it incomplete?”

“Wrong.”

“Ugly?”

“No.”

“Dull colors.”

“Nope.”

Sebastian lets out a sigh, eyebrows furrowing as he finds himself in a stump. You smile at his hesitance, pinching his nose in the process. “You’re an Auror and you can’t even deduce something as simple as this?”

“You give me more credit than I’m owed.” Sebastian chuckles as he grabs your wrist from his face. He takes a step closer. He licks his lips, a gesture that you unashamedly follow with your eyes. The man notices it and chuckles. 

A thought finally comes to his mind. “Was it because it wasn’t what she requested?”

You hum. “Getting close, Mr. Auror. She gave me creative freedom.”

Sebastian lets out a ‘tsk’ as he leans down to your face. You knew you were treading dangerous waters as you allowed him to press you against the door. Friends weren’t like this.

Fuck it. You were way past friends the moment he had been too physical with you during your Hogwarts years. This was just an inevitable result of it all.

“Was it because…” He trailed off, grabbing a lock of your hair as he locked eyes with you. He gently rubs the soft strands of hair between his fingers before placing a soft kiss on it, not breaking eye contact with you. “You expected to draw her but you drew someone else?”

You bite your lip at his alluring stare. “Bingo.”

He leans close, brushing his nose against yours and before he could have the opportunity to finally do the thing you both needed the most, you opened the door behind you causing him to stumble forward as you step inside. You giggle at his flabbergasted expression before watching as it turned to a look of mischievousness.

About to march towards you to take his revenge, you nudge your head towards the canvas mounted on the easel in the center of the room. He turns to look with nonchalance at first but then takes a double look in awe.

You had drawn him.

A realization flashes across his face. That day you brought your painting materials for Anne. You had drawn him.

“Y/N, this is—” He turns to you, waiting for an explanation.

“Before you get all emotional with me.” You joke as you place your hands behind your back. “That day, I was supposed to give Anne a gift. She told me to paint. At first I expected a portrait but she had only told me to paint whatever I loved in your home.”

His breath hitches at the insinuation.

You let out a shaky breath, letting liquid courage do its work. “I really wanted to draw her but my eyes found you. I painted you before I could even process what I even created.”

Sebastian takes a step closer, eyes not leaving yours. At every step of him towards you, you take a step back. You then found yourself trapped against the wall and the looming figure of Sebastian in front of you.

You lick your lips as your eyes brim with tears. You repeat the same words once again, hoping he would understand. “I painted you, Sebastian.”

“Yes you did.” The brunette whispers as he stops a few inches in front of you. “Magnificently, just as I told you.”

“Flattery won’t get you nowhere.” You chuckle sadly as you could feel the tears threatening to pour down. Sebastian only smiles at you with a fond look on his face.

“But it did, with you.” He winks, letting one last tease flow through his lips  as he leans close. “You have to say it, Y/N.”

“I can’t.” You whine as tears now pour down your face. He cups your cheeks within his rough but warm hands.

This was it. The moment you were waiting for but somehow you found it difficult to say it out loud. You knew when and where you experienced first things with Sebastian but those were only collections and points made in your mind. You had never tried outright to acknowledge your feelings for him in any way.

But the painting.

And so you give him the option to say it for you.

“I love you.” Sebastian says it firmly with his eyes locked with yours. It rings in your ears like a golden snitch wavering in the air. “I always have and our time spent together and apart never changed that.”

You let out a sob as he finally closes the space between you two, forehead against yours.

“I loved you the moment I met eyes with you at your manor, the moment you smiled in the comforts of your library, the moment you asked me If I was still with you– your every touch, breath, gaze and very existence– all of it. I love all of you.” Sebastian lets out a shaky breath as he rubs his thumbs against your cheeks. “The light of my life. My everything. I need to know now, that painting, what does it mean?”

Silence lapses between the two of you as tears stream down your face. The words slip from your lips, every sound comes with the feelings you’ve kept for years.

“That I love you too.”

Sebastian wastes no time in pressing his lips against yours. You whine as you arch your back, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you to oblivion. You feel his hands wander your curves as he presses you against the cold surface of the wall. Somehow, the cold temperature is undetectable with the heat shared between your moment of passion.

“Oh fuck, I fucking love you.” Sebastian growls against your lips. Your hands find themselves in his locks, tugging and pulling as he slips his tongue between your lips. Years of unsaid feelings and pining for one another– all crumbling down at the sight of a portrait.

“S-Sebastian.” You moaned as he grabbed your thighs to wrap against his waist. You feel his hardness press against the side of your thigh as he leans down to busy himself with your exposed neck. 

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” He snarls against the skin of your collarbone, leaving hickies in its wake. “Can’t take my hands off of you. Can’t get enough of you. My advances should’ve been obvious from the start, kitten.”

You let out a moan as he ground his hips against yours. He pulls back to admire his work on your neck, smiling as he admires your fucked out face. “Fucking perfect.”

“Please, please take me.” You whined as you clawed on his arm like a cat needing its owner. He coos at your expressions, placing gentle kisses all over your face.

“Patience.” He mutters before pulling your dress up, hands roaming underneath the fabric as he grabs at whatever fat he could grab. His palm then boldly cupped your cunt causing you to squeal at the sudden pressure.

“Please.” You beg as you let out a sob. Sebastian chuckles as you drop your head on his shoulder, moaning as he rubs your folds over the fabric of your underwear.

“Feel that? You’re so wet, baby.” He speaks to you in a low voice as he slides the fabric to the side before running his pointer and middle from your opening to your clit. You let out a high pitched whine at the sensation before he pulls his fingers from your pussy and shoves them in his mouth, humming at the taste as his dark eyes lock on yours. You feel entranced with how darkened his eyes are with lust and desire for you.

“Tastes better than I imagined.” He mutters before he dives his hand back in between your legs and pulls your underwear off. He adjusts his grip on you, arm securely around your waist as the other plays with your pussy.

“Oh fuck, Seb.” You moan as you feel him circle the pads of his fingers on your clit. The mane expertly maneuvered his fingers around your folds before sliding them in with slight resistance. “Oh!”

“So fucking tight.” He growls as he curls his finger in, preparing you for his cock. It had been a while since you had sex so you were glad that he had at least prepped you for what was about to come. He moved his fingers within you in a come hither motion as his thumb pressed against your clit.

The ministrations kept you on edge as you felt a knot on your stomach. “I-I’m– Shit! Feels so fucking good, Ah.”

“Mhm.” Sebastian hums as he speeds up his movements. “Cum one for me. Can you do that, pretty?”

You nod obediently as he begins to hit the sweet spot within you. Your breath quickens as you feel your orgasm coming and then it hits you like a freight train. You claw at Sebastian’s arms as you bite into his shoulder, preventing yourself from screaming and notifying the other members of the house. 

“Good girl.” The brunette praises as he slows down his motions, letting you ride your orgasm. Noticing your small couch on the side of the art studio, he carries you over with no efforts, sitting down with you in his lap. “You okay?”

You whine like an obedient little thing in his lap, hips moving against his leg. Sebastian bites his lip as moves your dress up to watch your bare ass move against him. Having enough of the fabric hiding your physique from him. He swiftly takes it off, leaving you bare and naked for him to admire and touch. 

“Fucking gorgeous.” He chuckles as he leans forward to bury his face within your breasts, taking one nipple in his mouth as his hands grab your ass. He lands a harsh slap on your soft ass cheeks, feeling it ripple under the sudden force of pressure. You shriek at the pain. 

He moves back from sucking your tits, eyes assessing your flushed face. “You ready?”

At this point, you were fully sober. You nod at his words, smiling as he pecks your lips before he unbuckles his belt and pushes it down to reveal his hardened cock. You gasp quietly at its size, it was average in height but on the thicker side. He smiles at your dazed look. 

“It’s okay baby. You can take it.” He reassures you, almost mockingly. You allow yourself to be adjusted  by him on his lap before allowing you free reign. “Go ahead, sit on it.”

You gulp at his orders as he leans back to admire you on his lap. The way you stared at him, all innocent and doe eyed while ass naked and tits out somehow pulls out a violent urge inside him.

The urge to keep you all to himself. He clenches his fist as he watches you take his cock by the shaft, angling it to your entrance before you push down with a high pitched whine. He feels his breath quicken at your tightness and the urge hammers against his chest.

Fuck. I have to marry her.

Unable to control himself, he grabs your waist and fucks up into you, immediately bottoming out. You choke at the sudden push, leaning forward as you steady yourself with a hand beside Sebastian’s head, fingers gripping the couch while the other claws at his arm. He grinds up into you as his jaw clenches. You press your forehead against his.

“Feel that? All the way up there.” He mumbles, breathless as you feel his tip almost brush against your cervix. You choke out moans as he continues to grind in that spot, stimulating you. “Feels good right?”

“M-Mhm.”

“Such a good girl for me.” He hums in a deep voice before his grinds turn into thrusts. You clutch the fabric of his dress shirt as he grips your hips, bouncing you on his cock. He maintains a steady rhythm, hitting your sweet spot nicely and deliciously.

“Ah! Ah!” You exclaim every time it hits it directly. Sebastian hugs you close by the waist as he fucks you deeper and faster. “Ooh, fuck! Seb– I can’t–”

“Take it baby,” He pants into your ear as he slams his hips against yours. You feel a knot form once again at the bottom of your gut. You let out a sob, tears begin streaming down your face. “Yeah. Fucking take it.

“You’re mine.” He growls as he presses his forehead against yours. Pools of brown now dark and muddled with lust. You could only babble and sob as you felt the pleasure spike up with every thrust against your pussy.

“S-Sebastian– Ngh, I– Fuck! I'm close.” You moan as the man beneath you begins to stutter in his thrusts. Sebastian nods as he speeds up his movement, moving you closer to the finish line.

“Cum. Cum for me like the good little lady that you are.” He growls against your ear. It was the final blow for you as he hit your sweet spot dead on and your thighs shake at the unraveling of another climax. You were unable to keep yourself quiet as you loudly shrieked as you came. Sebastian immediately covers your mouth with his palm, humming sweet nothings into your ear as he continues his harsh thrusts to lengthen your orgasm.

Soon after, Sebastian climaxes as well, moaning as he releases into you before pulling you into his arms as the two of you lay exhausted on the comfortable sofa. There’s a moment of silence before you both giggle at your current situation. You pull away slightly from his embrace, facing him with an afterglow.

“15 years huh?” Sebastian smiles as he tucks the stray hair away from your face. You lean into his touch as he cups your face.

“15 years.” You repeat before placing a kiss on his lips. He returns it with enthusiasm, smiling into the kiss. You’re the first to pull away.

“I hope you know I’ll be keeping you forever.” You playfully threaten as you trace his features with your pointer finger. He chuckles at your insinuation for marriage.

The two of you meet eyes. E/C meet brown and suddenly everything makes sense. You feel the burden of unsaid feelings and lingering glances float away as you have unraveled your all to him as he did to you. Now all that was left was you and him. Y/N and Sebastian and the history of you and him.

The history of you and I.

The corners of your lips quirk up at his response as he cheekily grins at you.

“I don’t mind that at all.”

A/N: wahh this was so fun to write ueueu i lowkey think i could've improved more on the nsfw part but here it is!!! hope yall enjoyed it and tysm for arianna who commissioned me hehe mwa. for those wondering what the painting of sebastian looks like, check it out here. (yes its the banner haha and its my own art!!)

[catpriciousmarjara]

DP X DC

Ao3

The Job Offer

"And why not you?", said the man. "You're intelligent, skilled, and adaptable. Most importantly, you're entertaining. That last part becomes very important when dealing with my kind".

A ring glinted in the dim light as he gestured with his hands. "Plus, there wouldn't be any danger in the first place! Our lot tend to stick to the Rules, you see? And not harming the messenger is most certainly a Rule".

A sip of coffee. Eyes filling with mirth.

"In the off chance that someone did take offence, all you have to do is amuse them for a while, and as I said, you're very good at that. But don't worry, they won't take offence".

Dick Grayson, attention still half focused on the vicious black claws on the man's hand, had to ask, "And why won't they?"

The man's pleasant smile didn't falter. But it did slowly morph into a grin with way too many teeth to be normal. The young vigilante had to suppress a shudder.

When the man?it spoke, the voice resonated. "Because you'll be one of mine. And they won't dare touch what's mine".

The teeth gleamed.

And just as abruptly as it shifted, the air changed, the pressure lifted, and the man was smiling once more.

Dick was left off-footed and tightly clutching the arms of his chair, his breath fogging in the still frigid air. He hadn’t even noticed the temperature dropping.

He looked at the man nonchalantly sitting across from him as if he hadn't just taken years off of Dick's life. The vigilante was not one to scare easily. Yet, mere moments ago, Dick had felt a fear so primal that it was maddening. It was not the kind of fear a human being could evoke, no matter how frightening their actions may be. Dick had seen the worst of Gotham, and Gotham was a cesspit on a good day. But he hadn't ever felt like this before today. If there was ever a question about the humanity of his companion before...well it was answered now.

To be honest, he couldn't quite recall how he got here in the first place. Everything was a blur.

No...not quite. His memories were alright, it's just that his mind couldn’t grasp them. 

And every second in this...space, had felt muted. As though he was lying beneath several layers of sheer fabric; he could somewhat feel things, see things, but his senses were muffled.

The spike of fear from before wasn't him breaking through as much as he was allowed to break through, and now he was safely back beneath the dampening cloud once more. It was almost comforting.

Dangerous.

Dick only remembered what had happened in bits and pieces. Being fired from Robin, the legacy he had forged for himself, named after his mother's love, and garbed in Grayson colours.

Being angry and distraught. Not knowing what to do.

It had taken him weeks to reorient himself. A month to gather his composure.

He vaguely recollected a cafe in Jump City. He had been sitting in a booth, contemplating his options...

Someone had sat right across from him, right?

He had looked up…

“Hello. May I sit here?”

“...Sure. Go ahead.”

“Daniel Nightingale.”

“...Richard Grayson.”

" I know. You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way. Also, could I have a bit of your time?"

"Um...yeah, sure?"

“Perfect!”

And the next thing he knew, he was Here.

Wherever here was.

(Why had he said yes then? He would never have done that normally.)

At first his mind had been adamant in believing that here was the very same cafe he had been sitting in. But Dick wasn't trained by the man known as the World's Greatest Detective for nothing. However, it had taken him an embarrassing few moments to start noticing the abnormalities.

For one thing, he had been sitting in a booth in a cafe, not at an ornate wooden table, much like the one in Bruce's home office. The only thing the cafe table and this one had in common was that they were both rectangular.

Secondly, their table was covered by a veil. A huge gauzy one hanging from above. But try as he might he couldn't see where it was hanging from, just a yawning darkness.

Finally, he could see shadows moving beyond the veil, and the more he looked, the more bizarre they became. And at one point, the shadows lost all pretence of humanity. They weren't even humanoid, let alone human.

He definitely wasn't in Jump City anymore.

It had taken him even longer to notice the man sitting across him. That he hadn’t left this Daniel Nightingale behind.

Wispy white hair.

"Ah! You noticed so quickly. You really are the perfect fit for the job!"

Green. green eyes.

"Apologies for the veiling. It's necessary however.., some things are not just meant for mortal eyes, you see. Without it, you might just go insane! We wouldn't want that now would we?"

Unnaturally pale skin.

"Enough dillydallying! But first, introductions. You may call me either Daniel or Nightingale. By what name would you prefer to be called?”

Something about that question made the ex-Robin’s hindbrain pay attention. The wording of it, the tone…

You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way.

Could I have a bit of your time?

Something had felt incredibly off, so he had gone ahead and given one of the alternate names he had been thinking of taking up now that Robin was over.

“You may call me Nightjar.”

Nightingale had looked incredibly pleased then. And a bit smug too.

“Let me cut to the chase then Nightjar. I’m here to offer you a job. You’re a perfect fit for the role. We offer excellent compensation, and flexible work hours. Considering you’re out of work now that you’ve been fired from Robin, I believe my offer would be interesting for you.”

For some reason, perhaps because of all the strange things that happened, the fact that Nightingale seemed to know his alter ego hadn’t surprised Dick. Instead of asking how he came to know about this particular information, including the fact that he got fired, he decided to keep the conversation rolling on this supposed job offer. He had an inkling that he won’t get anywhere even if he asked, so might as well mine some information by making the other man talk.

“What kind of job is it? And what exactly would be included in the compensation?”

In response the man had snapped his fingers, and produced a file out of nowhere. He opened it, turned it around and slid it across the table. Dick started. Nightingale made a go ahead gesture, a smile on his lips once more. Dick gingerly dragged it a bit closer, and took a look.

“As you can see Nightjar, the position being offered is that of a courier. Due to many reasons, delivery across the realms is a cumbersome affair, not the least due to political complications. The best system to lay down in this situation was to have an impartial party be in charge of the work. You can say that I am a representative of the aforementioned impartial party that took over the role. If you would turn a page over-

Dick had dutifully turned the page.

-you’d see that we offer great compensation. In addition to your salary, you’ll receive health insurance, life insurance, death insurance, medical insurance, dental, vision care insurance, paid vacation time, overtime pay, paid time-off, flexible time-off, paid medical leave, free medical care, maternity leave, paternity leave, all other forms of parental leave, a good retirement package, loan assistance, wellness programmes, child care assistance, regular bonuses, promotions, raises, accommodation, a provident fund, and a whole host of other benefits that are clearly listed on the page. And of course at the end right there is our offered starting salary, which is highly negotiable up to the amount listed right below it. Please take as much time as you need to read through them.”

To say Dick had been overwhelmed was an understatement. He hadn’t thought that this was going to be an actual, honest to God job offer. If anything he just thought the entire job thing was an excuse or prelude to something much worse. But as he parsed through the file, getting increasingly bewildered as the man rattled on, he had to admit that this really looked like a weird recruitment effort. And then his eyes had fallen on the salary figure, and the amount to which it could be negotiated upwards, and he froze. Because even for the ex-ward of a billionaire, it was a ludicrous number. He couldn’t even accurately count the zeros on the thing. Even Wayne Enterprises wouldn't be able to match a deal like this. 

At that thought Dick had felt a pang of pain as he remembered Bruce still hadn’t called him, or even made an attempt at apologising. There were no texts, no missives. Just radio silence. The pain in his chest increased and Dick had felt the ever returning feeling of being unmoored. He pushed those feelings to the furthest corners of his mind. He had to focus now.

Feeling marginally calmer, he had taken a deep breath and closed the file. He looked up at Nightingale who had been watching him avidly over the rim of a coffee cup which definitely wasn’t there before, and asked the most pertinent question.

“Why me?”

And now they are here.

Dick scoffed at the white haired being’s answer. Oh he didn’t doubt that it was the truth. By now he had somehow come to an understanding of how this worked. It was fae rules. Meaning he had to watch his mouth. Similarly Nightingale won’t lie, but he can certainly obfuscate.After all withholding information wasn’t technically a lie, especially if it was masked with a half-truth. In other words, Nightingale hadn’t lied, but that wasn’t all there is to it. And Dick wasn’t going to let it slide. 

“How am I supposed to believe you to be a good employer if you’re already lying?”, he asked outright. You know, like a reckless fool.

Nightingale’s pleasant smile instantly froze, and then it gained an edge. A sharp, lethal edge.

“I don’t lie”, the man said, a cold cadence to his voice.

Dick could feel the figurative whetted blade on his throat, but he pressed forward. This was the first time he had taken blood in this fiasco and he wasn’t going to concede just like that.

“Lying by omission, is still lying.”

Nightingale’s entire mien darkened, and frost spread across the table. Dick didn’t back off. 

There was silence. Suffocating silence. And then the vergals receded and Nightingale sat back with a satisfied air. Dick blinked in surprise.

“Good. You didn’t cower.”

Dick sat back on his own chair, his breath fogging in the still cold air. “Was that a test?”

Nightingale took another sip of his coffee. Was it even coffee? It looked like coffee, but who knows what anything is in this bizarre space. Certainly not Dick.

“It was a test. The position of a courier in this part of existence requires mettle, and a strong mind. You would be dealing with beings ranging from the divine to the demonic. I’m sure you know they are a stubborn lot. You’ll have to stand up to them often. Plus you would be representing Us. We can’t have an unprincipled, craven fool take the job can we now? So I had to test you. Congratulations! You passed with flying colours.”

Dick glared at the man. “I still haven’t agreed to anything. And you still haven’t told me why I was chosen.” 

Nightingale chuckled. It was an unnatural, but pleasant sound. “Aah you caught that. Very well then.”

He clasped his hands together and put them on the table, bringing Dick’s attention to the black, razor sharp claws once again, as well as to the extremely ominous ring he wore on his left hand’s little finger.

“You were chosen because you are a multiversal constant. This job requires much interdimensional, interuniversal travel, and a multiversal constant is ideal for the role. And before you ask, a multiversal constant is essentially someone whose soul acts as a consistent axis across worlds through indelible aspects of their existence. They are rare, and their axial quality makes multiversal travel easy for them.”

The white haired entity’s eyes shone in the dim light. “You are a multiversal constant Nightjar. Centred around your potential, And also, I know you will agree to do the job. So I’m not worried.”

Even as he struggled to process what was just revealed, Dick found the energy to scowl at the impishly grinning man. “And how would you know? What’s in it for me? All I’m seeing is a job, the benefits of which, doesn’t make up for how dangerous it is.”

“But you will accept it nonetheless”, replied Nightingale with an amused air. “Think about it. You’ve been fired from Robin but still intend to continue being a vigilante, and vigilantism is expensive work. Now that you don’t have the Wayne coffers to pull from, you would have to find alternate means to acquire resources. You’re brilliant and I have no doubt you will find those resources and do spectacularly under your new mantle. But that would take time. And calling in favours that could either be used somewhere else, or make you indebted to someone. The salary this job provides you will allow you to finance your quest for justice, and still have plenty leftover. Not to mention the other benefits, such as the free medical care provided by Us, people who will never question your injuries the way a normal hospital might, or put your civilian identity at risk like a back alley doctor.”

Nightingale’s verdant eyes stared a hole through Dick as he spoke. “You wanted to get out of Batman’s shadow. This is your chance, Nightjar.”

The young vigilante had to give it to Nightingale. The man sure knew how to pitch an offer. He found himself agreeing to most of what Nightingale said, especially the finances part but he still wasn’t going to agree to a job that would put him in the crosshairs of gods and demons. That was just monumentally stupid.

“You make good points”, Dick said as he slid the file sitting idle on his side to Nightingale. “But I’m still not gonna agree.”

Nightingale slid the file back over to him without missing a bit.

“If I thought you were the type to easily capitulate I wouldn’t have approached you in the first place,” the man said, not a single sign of ire at Dick’s repeated refusal in his voice. In fact he seemed rather glad Dick was being difficult.

“You want to know more about being a multiversal constant correct? That is not the kind of information you’ll find lying around on earth.”

A pitch black claw scraped across the table, but there was no noise, and the deep scratch left behind instantly stitched itself back together, the tabletop pristine once more.

“By now you must have a rudimentary idea of the world you are being invited into. You would not have called yourself Nightjar otherwise. You also know that this is not a world Batman has access to.”

The man pointed opened his right palm, still resting on the table, and brilliant emerald fire blazed to life on it. Something in Dick’s lizard brain told him this fire ran cold rather than hot.

“Magic and everything associated with it is not something the Dark Knight can handle by his usual methods. And magic is just one of the aspects of our Realm. An infinite more mysteries keep it company. This world is yours for the taking. No mortal would be able to access what you can and you would be able to help so many people.”

Blue eyes met green.

“This will set you apart from Batman once and for all. An identity that no one can take away from you at their whim. Just think of this as your day job, as being a CEO is for Bruce Wayne.”

Nightingale clasped one of Dick’s hands resting on the table and transferred the fire over to it. Dick stared as the flame danced merrily in his palm. It really was cold. By the time he had his wits about him, the fire had vanished. Nightingale had seemingly finished his coffee, as the cup was nowhere to be seen. 

Dick glanced at the white haired man who watched him calmly. Then he took the file and started reading through it. If he was going to take this job, he was going to make sure to read the fine print. Out of the corner of his eye, he could spy Nightingale’s gleaming, triumphant smile. Dick couldn’t help but feel annoyed. 

He didn’t know how much time it took for him to read the file completely. Time ran strangely in this space. What he did know was there was an ornate, silver pen right next to him, which definitely wasn’t there before. He had to roll his eyes at Nightingale's antics. 

Nonetheless he uncapped it, admiring the craftsmanship for a moment, and signed on the dotted line in his Alfred approved best cursive, bells, whistles, hoops and all. 

Nothing happened. Dick felt kinda disappointed. He had thought signing a magical contract with a possible fae creature would be a little less anti-climactic. Across from him, Nightingale chuckled as if he could read his mind. Could he?

He slid the file over once more, this time for last. Nightintingale just skimmed through before sliding over an envelope. 

“Your appointment letter”.

“You had that ready?”

“Of course.”

Dick snorted inelegantly at that. Obviously the man had foreseen how this would go. That should make him more wary than what he was feeling, but just as he had known the fire was cold before, he knew Nightingale wouldn’t harm him. Bruce would call him an idiot for this kind of illogical thinking, but Bruce wasn’t here now was he?

He was about to shove another medley of complicated emotions down, when Nightingale reached over and viciously ran a claw down his right arm. Blood spurted in a gruesome display and Dick scrambled back, chair falling down, and his body hitting the surprisingly sturdy veil.

“What was that about?”, he shouted as he clutched his bleeding arm to his chest. Just when he had thought the man didn’t mean him any harm…

Nightingale had the audacity to look nonplussed. He simply brought his palms up as if to show he meant no harm, but it was a moot point when one of his claws was dripping with Dick’s blood.

“Just testing something”, the man said calmly.

“Testing what?’, Dick asked angry and confused.

In response, Nightingale simply pointed to his arm.

“What? Testing whether your claws could tear me apar-”

He stopped short. There, before his eyes, the flesh of his arm was knitting itself together. In mere moments, the wound was gone, not even a scar where it should be. Dick was reminded of the table from before. What just happened?

“What did you do to me?”, he asked, voice soft, and emotionless. 

“Don’t worry. It's your compensation. Part of your medical aid.”

He waved his hand, and the blood vanished. “Do sit down, Nightjar. Lets order something to eat.”

Robotically Dick walked to the table once more. The upturned chair was somehow rightened, already pulled out as if waiting for him.

“That was a healing factor”, he said rather than asked.

Nightingale nodded unbothered. “Yes, you’ll be needing that in your line of work.”

The veil opened and admitted a two-headed woman in, carrying trays of food in her four arms.

When she left, Nightingale eagerly took up his cutlery, looking excitedly at what looked like a luminescent crepe. He glanced at a shell-shocked Dick and frowned.

“Please eat. It's safe to consume, now that you’re one of us. If you’re worrying about your job, don’t. You have been assigned an excellent mentor in Harker. The White Grim will train you well.”

With that, he dug in, clearly enjoying his glowing crepe.

Dick just stared at the man, at his no longer injured arm, and sighed. Might as well eat. He hadn’t gotten to eat anything at the cafe and was beginning to feel hungry.

He scooped a spoonful from what seemed like an overly fancy bowl of cereal.

One of them huh?

He took a bite.

[madame-fear]

Imagine jace and his young wife, both already married to each other for a while now and they've only just come of age. Then the young wife starts to show weird food cravings, finding the smell of certain foods repulsive, falling asleep at random hours of the day, etc. Rhaenyra immediately makes the connection that she's pregnant, immediately looks at Jacaerys Velaryon, flicks his ear and says 'Didnt i tell you that its too soon your pullout game is sh!t"😁😁😁 but shes actually happy for both and is only worried that theyre too young but knows theyre going to be great parents 💞

ABSOLUTELY. weak ass pullout game frfr

From the second you got betrothed and then officially wedded Jacaerys Velaryon, you both became extremely close to one another, and of course, you immediatly fell in love for each other. And as expected, after your wedding ceremony, you began sharing quarters together. Where, you know... Things most happen there, now that you have private time for yourselves, alone. *coughcoughCOUGHCOUGH👀👀*

Not too long after finally sharing chambers together, you suddenly began having strange reactions, needs, and attitudes. Some foods that you didn't mind eating or smelling previously — or you greatly liked them —, you suddenly found a huge distaste to them and felt disgusted to an extreme, continous vomiting, having abrupt mood swings, cravings for certain things you earlier in your life barely considered, being too sleepy and falling asleep anywhere, no matter the hour.

Rhaenyra, being a lovely mother of 5 beautiful boys, immediatly realised what your problem was one time after you made another mention of how you could barely tolerate the taste/smell of X food while being at dinner.

While you were distracted talking to someone else after said mention, Nyra was sitting by Jace's side, and of course, she turned to look at him, playfully took his ear as if she were 'sweetly caressing it' — actually was pinching and pulling it— and then leaned closer as to whisper to him.

“Jacaerys Velaryon. I thought we had talked about this. Isn't it too soon to father a child?” she whispered, clenching her teeth briefly at the end of her statement.

Poor Jace, he'll be nervously gulping and trying to act normal. But yeah, he kinda uhm, missed the part where he actually had to pull out. Got too carried away with the fervid moment of carnal love.

Anyways, you called a maester to check up on you; and indeed, you were with child.

Even if Rhaenyra is merely concerned because you are still young people that recently came to age, and she just wants you to have all the best safety in the world when it comes to pregnancies, our lovely girl Nyra is tremendously joyful to hear you are having a child together, and will soon be a grandma. She has zero doubts at all that you will be the best, and most caring parents ever.

Expect her to be by your side always. She will always recommend Jace how to treat you, how to show you love and support throughout your pregnancy, things to keep in mind, and of course, parenting tips. This not only goes for Jace, but for you as well. And she will be particularly attentive to you, taking the best of care for you, and helping you out with whatever you need: food cravings, warm baths to help you calm you down, names for the baby, preparations, etc.

And she is also the type of sweet mother-in-law to stick by your side before, during, and after the birth of your child BECAUSE THAT'S HOW PRECIOUSLY LOVING SHE ISSS 🥰🥰😭

And Jace? The best father ever. He will take his mother's wise advice about children very seriously, and will obviously use them on you. Taking care of you, giving you massages, tons of cuddlings and kisses, treating you even more softly, and offering you his hand and wholehearted support during the hard labour of the child.

Rhaenyra knows you'll be the best parents ever, and she's tremendously joyful to see you together so happy with your babe. Of course, she'll always be there to provide proper support and care <3

♡ taglist : ♡

@damatheirin @jacesvelaryons @tickle-euphoria @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @chompchompluke @cookielovesbook-akie

[dragon-watcher03]

hihi, anon who still hasn't gotten concubine!reader out of their head 😭

if it's not a bother can you do some headcanons for the Lin Kuei brothers with Kuai’s concubine reader? your dialogues and writings are seriously amazing

Bout time someone appreciated my trope-

Lin Kuei Trio x Concubine!Reader

Headcanons

Ft: Scorpion, Sub-Zero, Smoke.

Note: We're so close to 100 followers dude- Also the reader has a daughter in this scenario that she gave birth to asexually.

Scorpion

Since you are his concubine, you'd expect him to treat you as such, but he doesn't. You are a strong, kind, hard-working woman who doesn't deserve to be treated in such a way. In fact, he's grown to see you as more of a second partner than a concubine. He also tries really hard to bond with your daughter since she doesn't have a biological father and he wanted to play that role.

He and Harumi silently agreed that, concubine or not, they would treat you as part of their relationship. They only don't do that when they are around Kuai's father and mother, but even then they just don't talk with you rather than being rude to you.

Kuai has grown fond of you, but it saddens him to see you so distant from him and Harumi. He knows why you do it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. And he has made it clear to the other Lin Kuei ninjas that they must treat you with respect.

After his father's death, although he felt depressed, deep down, he was somewhat happy that he no longer had to ignore you, and maybe he'd even tie the knot with the two of you and Harumi. He'd try his hardest to win your heart the old-fashioned way rather than use the fact that you are his concubine as an excuse to marry you.

As a lover, he'd be very caring and warm towards you and Harumi. He loves you both equally, and that goes the same for you and Harumi. He calls you guys a 'throuple' and has special nicknames for you and Harumi.

After a while, you finally opened up to them, which made him very happy that you trusted him with your heart. He's a very touchy husband and wanted to start a family with you and Harumi. But he was very cautious around Bi-han seeing as he also wanted you as his wife.

Sub-Zero

He is completely envious of his younger brother getting to have you instead. Especially since he's the eldest sibling? It made him hate his father more than he already did. And he couldn't wait until he could become grandmaster.

At first, he wasn't really interested in you since you were a concubine. But then he saw you fight, and your strength was very impressive to him. That was what drew him to you in the first place.

Then as time went on, he started to grow obsessed with you and making you his wife. He always tells you that you don't deserve to be a mere concubine, let alone his younger brother, and constantly tries to convince you to leave Kuai and become his instead.

It almost worked, but you were only staying as Kuai's concubine so that the Lin Kuei would provide you and your daughter with protection and you don't know what will happen if you leave Kuai. Bi-han understands, but at the same time it frustrates him since he is fully capable of protecting both of you by himself.

If you decided to marry him and leave Kuai, he'd be an excellent (but strict) father and a possessive yet soft lover to you. I say he'd be a strict father because he'd want your daughter to be able to defend herself, but he knows when to give her a break.

And if you don't, he'll be upset with you but won't force you to do anything you don't want to. He'd still treat you with the utmost respect and protect you during missions. And when he does become grandmaster, he'll say you no longer have to be Kuai's concubine in order for you and your daughter to be protected by the Lin Kuei.

Smoke

He thought you were very beautiful when he first saw you, but he was rather confused as to how you ended up as a concubine to his brother.

He treated you very well just like the other two, but he'd never hit on you or try to convince you to leave Kuai since he didn't want to ruin their relationship. But when he found out why you became a concubine, he felt kind of bad for you and your daughter.

He's also secretly upset that you didn't get to choose a partner. Maybe if you did, he could try and win your heart the correct way. That doesn't stop him from spending some time with your daughter though, since she has no father he thought she'd enjoy some sort of father figure in her life.

Deep down, he was sort of jealous of Kuai, but he never let that ruin his relationship with his brother. However, it doesn't stop him from ruining his relationship with other men, including Bi-han (if their relationship wasn't ruined enough).

While you are Kuai's concubine, Tomas does not treat you as such. He always has your back during missions and is the one to bandage you up afterwards. He is very kind and caring to you and would make a great husband. (wink wink nudge nudge-)

If you choose to be with him, he'd be ecstatic. He finally managed to win your heart over and let you be with someone you actually love rather than just being with someone for protection. He'd be a very sweet and clingy partner and a fun and playful father to your daughter.

And when you decide you trust him enough to open up to him, he's extremely understanding and supportive of you. He also really enjoys spending time with your daughter even if you aren't in a relationship.