Tumgik
#maid of bond street
stephaniegunnz · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAVID BOWIE
(my artworks)
21 notes · View notes
elaratyrell · 3 months
Text
Aegon Targaryen NSFW Alphabet
Tumblr media
*Divider from saradika-graphics*
Warnings: AFAB! Reader, not proof read, smut under the cut {duh}, language, mentions of drinking and drugs, infidelity, mentions of pregnancy, a brief mention of assault
A/N: It's TGC's birthday today so I thought I'd write something for Aegon. Happy birthday Tom! ❤️
Tumblr media
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
It depends what stage of the relationship you're in. If you're nothing more than a fuck, or in the very early stages of your relationship, Aegon will likely go to sleep pretty quickly. If your relationship has progressed further than that, a genuine love forming between the two of you, he might pull you close to him, one hand rubbing lazy circles along your back while he holds a goblet of wine in the other. If you're sore, he'll have the maids run you a bath.
Modern! Aegon would likely have a smoke, either a cigarette or a joint, whatever he had lying around really. And hey, if you're up for it, he'll let you share it with him.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Aegon doesn't particularly like any part of himself. He never had any regard for his self care, never took the time to actually appreciate anything about himself. However, if he had to choose something, it would be his mouth, specifically his tongue. He could spend hours buried between your thighs, hearing you breathe out soft moans and whispers of his name as he brings you to the edge over and over again {Bonus: Modern! Aegon has a tongue piercing. Fight me.}
As for you, Aegon would adore every inch of you... BUT... we know this man has a weakness for tits. He loves your tits.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He doesn't really give a damn about mess. He also doesn't give a damn about where he cums, as long as it's on or in you in some way. On your face, your tits, your stomach... he doesn't care. He is lazy, and so will probably be more likely to just cum inside of you. It's more intimate, he feels closer to you and it just lets him enjoy holding you as close as he can while you both find your release.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
All I'm going to say is he wouldn't mind you using some of those... ahem… toys he has in his chambers on him one day...
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He's had a ton of experience, of course. His reputation precedes him.
However, what he hasn't ever had experience in is the vulnerability, the intimacy, the love that can be experience while with someone physically. The women on the streets of silk he paid to pity him, the maids he took advantage of, and he never had that romantic bond with Helaena. Feeling those things with you is new to him. He's never felt truly loved. Until you.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
He's a lazy boy, and he loves your breasts, so having you straddle his waist while he lays back comfortably on the bed, your tits bouncing in his face as you bounce on top of you. Anytime you're on top is ideal for him, though I feel that he'd be down to try most positions.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Aegon {especially Modern! Aegon} is the most likely one to be less serious in the moment. His humour will most likely be in the form of rather crude or inappropriate comments, teasing you in an attempt to ease any tension there might be, especially if he's known you long enough to trust you. For him, sex is a form of escapism, of stress relief. His life is full of severity and seriousness, so this time he spends with you is the only time he can truly loosen up and relax.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
The carpet will definitely match the drapes. And like I said above, Aegon takes little care of himself. I doubt he'd make much effort to keep himself tidy unless you really wanted him too. However, I don't think he'd be particularly hairy down there anyway.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
It's complicated with Aegon. Once again, it truly depends on what your relation is to him. All of the sexual partners he's had in the past have been a feeble attempt to fill the hollowness in his chest, to try and feel what love could feel like, even if it isn't quite true. He's touch starved, and is willing to play along with whoever he pays to facilitate his yearning for affection, even if the coldness lingers stronger than before when it's over.
If you haven't known him long, if you're just a companion he uses so to speak, to feel loved, then don't expect him to be romantic. He'll crave your attention, he'll want nothing more than to feel your arms wrapped around him, fingers combing through his knotted hair as you slowly lull him to sleep. If he's drunk, he may slur a few praises in your ear as he ruts into you, or gaze up at you with half lidded lilac eyes, glaze over from his intoxication but shining up at you as though he could love you.
If you're committed to him and he to you, if he trusts and loves you, then he will most definitely yearn for that intimate aspect when with you. He'll hold you closer, he'll praise you, his touch softer and kisses fuelled with passion. He needs you, and only you can provide him with that moment of feeling cherished, so he tries to return the favour and show you how much he cherishes you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Despite being so lazy, Aegon is always in the mood, whether it be first thing in the morning or in the dead of night, and if you're not there to help him out for some reason, he'll be perfectly content with taking care of himself, although would prefer it if it were you helping him instead.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Aegon has a whole shit ton of kinks, but these are the main ones I think he'd have:
Praise Kink: LOVE THIS MAN. He needs to be loved. He knows he doesn't deserve it, but he desperately wishes for it. Hearing your sweet voice in his ear moaning how good he's doing, how he's making you feel, will make him feel so much closer to you. It will make everything more intimate to him. And it goes both ways, he wants you to know how good you're making him feel, especially if you're in a serious relationship with him.
Body Worship: For the same reason as above. Aegon has trouble articulating how he feels through his words. He prefers to show it, and so he'll worship you like a goddess to show you how much he loves you.
Teasing/Edging/Orgasm Denial: Aegon would both love those used on you and on him. He's a tease, he enjoys hearing you beg for him, tears in your eyes from how overstimulated you are, a sheen of sweat covering your writhing body as you desperately grasp at the bedsheets beneath you. He's not known for being particularly patient or self controlled, but he could spend hours denying you both of your releases if it meant the satisfaction of seeing you so needy for him. On the other hand, he also loves it when he's on the receiving end, completely at your mercy, pathetic whimpers spilling from his lips as he bucks his hips upwards, his attempts at feeling any kind of friction to satiate his desire and frustration proving fruitless and you deny him what he wants.
Public Sex: This man would take such glee in riling you up at family dinners, his hand slipping beneath your skirt, watching as you would lightly gasp as his fingers brush against your core. He'd lazily smirk at the glare you'd send his way, rubbing featherlight circles on your clit. He'd test your limits, bring you close to release before pulling away, going as far as to lick his fingers clean in front of his whole damn family.
Lactation Kink: He's a tit man, and seeing how swollen and round they'd grow with your pregnancy would drive him absolutely wild. When you'd complain about how heavy they'd feel, how they ached, he'd be by your side in an instant, his hands already unlacing the bodice of your dress to free your heavy breasts from their confinements, telling you to relax and let him help you and take care of you.
L = Location (favourite places to do the do)
He's shameless, he'd do it anywhere. His bedroom, his throne, the pleasure house, the bath, the gardens, the kitchens, on dragon back... pretty much anywhere. Although I feel like when he's crowned King, he'd have a thing for having you on your knees in front of him or sat on his lap while he sits on his throne. Seeing you worship your King... it makes him feel more powerful than he ever has before.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You could walk into a room and look at him for one second longer than usual and he's hard. You could breathe deeply, causing your chest to heave slightly and he's grabbing your hand, pulling you to him. If you really want to get him going, praise him, tease him, he'll be practically dry humping you like a bitch in heat.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
While he wouldn't be opposed to minor degradation, I think that going to far will bring too many scars to the surface. Don't be too mean, he's a sensitive boy. I also think that other than cum and spit, any other bodily fluids would be out of the question.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Both? Both. Both is good.
He loves burying his head between your thighs, making you come undone countless times by just the use of his mouth. He's spends hours testing your limits, seeing what makes you roll your hips against him, or throw your head back in pleasure as you sing his praises. He loves it.
But he also loves it when you unbutton his trousers, lowering yourself to your knees while his hand threads through your hair, eager to pleasure him. Especially when he's sitting on the throne, the conqueror's crown glittering on his head.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
It depends how horny he is. Despite being rather lazy, he can also be desperate, rutting into you like a wild animal so he can reach his release.
However, especially in the mornings, he may prefer to slowly roll his hips against yours {especially if you're in a proper relationship} taking his time as he slowly wakes up from his slumber.
Sex is how he expresses himself, and if he needs to do that in a flurry of passion or a slow, loving way where he just yearns to be close to you and feel you, depends on his mood. He may switch between the two, or even let you set the pace when he's feeling a little lost with himself, his insecurities and self esteem hitting an all time low after a nasty fight with his mother or grandfather.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
I've said it before and I'll say it again. This man's always down for sex. And if that means a quickie against the wall or on the table, he'll be down for it. He'll really love it if that's how you wake him up in the mornings when he's late for his duties, straddling his waist or using your mouth to pleasure him before the day begins. As King of Westeros, his time with you will likely be shorter than before, and a quickie might be all he can do before attending to his duties, so he takes advantage of every moment, no matter how short, to be with you.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Of course he is. He's down for most things, I'll reckon, and always open to hear suggestions from you for what else you can do to make things interesting in the bedroom.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Always. Horny. I think he could last a few rounds. 3-4 in one night maybe. Especially if you're taking the lead. And if his cock can't take any more for one night, he has his fingers, his tongue... he can find other ways to satisfy you if you're still wanting more.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Have you seen his room? He would not oppose the use of toys at all.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He's a brat, he'll happily test your patience and relentlessly tease you to see how long it takes for you to snap. And on the other side, he'll secretly revel in you teasing him, taking your time to pleasure him. Cockwarming is a favourite of his, he can last a long time with you squirming on top of him, his hands planted firmly on your waist, trapping you in place as he sees how long it takes for one of you to break, almost like a game to him.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He doesn't care who hears him. When you make him feel as good as you do, he wants you to know. He'll let out loud, breathy moans and low groans and grunts in your ear. He also whimpers a lot, especially if you're in control and teasing him, refusing to grant him his release. He doesn't care how pathetic it sounds, he can't hold it in, and he wants you to know how good you're making you feel.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
This man is a switch. Yes, he will be a submissive brat, whimpering from your touch and begging for you to let him cum, but he can also easily turn the tables on you so you're the one crying for him to fuck you. He can be quite dominant when he wants, bending you over the nearest surface and hiking up your skirts, fucking you raw as you grab onto whatever he's pinned you down on so tightly your knuckles turn white, crying out in pain as he'd tug your hair roughly.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He's about average in length above average in girth. It's thick, I know it.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Very high. He always craving you, always wanting you, which can be a blessing or a curse depending on your sex drive. Even in his sleep he's grinding against you, only to wake up in the middle of the night, hard as a rock.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Honestly? Pretty damn quick. Especially if you pull him into your arms, running your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead. He'll be out within minutes, snoring softly. However, if you do need something {a bath or something to eat etc} he will make sure that's done for you first.
Tumblr media
If you wanted to be added to the general HOTD taglist or taglists for specific character/s, just let me know
Masterlist
196 notes · View notes
kamigui · 10 months
Note
what would rubee be like in the haunted house au
Tumblr media
Rubee is a cleaning maid. One day she saw a flyer on the street that was looking for a maid. She didn’t think twice before applying.
As she spent more time with Wally, their bond grew stronger, but she also grew weaker. House doesn’t like to see anyone so close to Wally, but killing her would break his heart, House found another way to solve the problem.
House turned Rubee into a marionette ghost, unlike other ghosts, Rubee couldn’t move on her own, House controls everything she does. Only at midnight, when House was asleep, could she manage to move and talk…
Tumblr media
437 notes · View notes
luvyeni · 1 year
Text
THE HIGH LORD OF SUMMER COURT; HWANG HYUNJIN
Tumblr media Tumblr media
PAIRINGS. highfae!hyunjin x maid!reader
WC. 6.4k
WARNINGS. virginity loss, corruption kink if you squint, oral (fem. recieving), unprotected sex,
SYNOPSIS. hyunjin of summer court hardly paid attention to his staff, spending most of his time with different hook ups or spending most of his time in his paint room, but when you clumsily spill his tea on his suit, he suddenly wants to be around you, watching you work.
TAGLIST. @kosmoreads @hipsdofangirl @imhyvnjin @lovemepie67 @chvnnie @hgema @candiecans @my-name-is-namename @yourhwngness @midsoulz @jessyrdn @cutielittlepie @intomysoul-555 @cxentrxcks @yurippiefelix @missrobyn81 @stayinthemirohwoo @3retcha @lifeissteph @skzfelixlove @reiheis @chereshnyya @levantea @why-am-i-sad @blankdyean @kunstistliebchen @userbangchan @fairywriter-oracle @elmi-chan @compersian @mal-lunar-28 @n4tiii @ddazed-lhs @felixcharmerera @ch4nniebang @hyunibinnie @fairyyeo @reddesert-healourblues @fxckedupbitch @icouldntcareless22 @pessimist-sky @jeonnyread
DISCLAIMER! THIS IS NOT AFFILIATED WITH THE BOOK SERIES BUT IT WILL HAVE REFERENCES TO THE BOOK.
Tumblr media
rule number one: lesser faeries are to be seen and not heard while they work in the castle.
Growing up that's all that your mother would say, it was the first thing she every told you when you asked her how was it when she went to work at the castle in adriata and she's been saying it ever since.
your family lived in the poorest cities of the summer court, surving on close to nothing after your father died. that was before your mother got a special job to go work in adriata, to work for the high lord of the court, lord hyunjin. this was the first good news you have ever had received in your entire life , your family would get a little more money coming into your very small house.
recently, your mother started to experience severe pain, and the castle thought it would be in her best intrest if she found a replacement and retired, of course she chose you, you were in young and ready to work for your family. soon you were finding yourself saying goodbye to your aunt and siblings, going to join your mother at the castle in the capital city of adriata.
"mom!" you were met with a heartwarming hug from your mother when you met up with her where all the boats and ships docked in adriata. "my baby!" regardless of time your mother spent away, you never let it get in between your relationship with your mother. "we have to go to the shops, the high lord requested a special dinner tonight for lady friend, let's get some practice in, so you can get familiar with what he likes and doesn't."
walking through the streets of adriata , you learned what you needed to know about the hyunjin, the high lord, all his likes and dislikes. "he's rather short with the staff, doesn't say much, unless he wants something, his lady friends though, they need help with everything, eating, getting dressed, you name it they probably need help with it." you laughed.
"he hasn't been married off yet?"
you knew all about hyunjin, and his never ending quest of trying get into all the dresses of the summer court high faes. "you know he probably never will , you know he was the first high fae to reject his mating bond."
"lesser faeries are to be seen and not heard while they work in the castle, i know mama."
the kitchen was pretty much the only place you could talk , except when anyone important would come in to check, then it would get silent. "i guess they take that rule pretty seriously." you try to joke, but your mother just slaps your arm, telling you to hush, apologizing to the other staff.
"oh my!" chaewon, a girl around your age jumped up while you washed the dishes, you and your said your goodbyes, and she was on her way back home, leaving you alone. "are you okay?" your face turned in half concern half confusion.
"i can't believe we let the time pass like this, the lord needs his tea, oh he's probably gonna be so mad." she rushed to get everything together. "has he gotten mad before?" you helped her so she wouldn't burn herself with the way she was shaking. "i don't know i've been here for a year and he hasn't come in once, your mom is the only one who serves him." she freezes again. "your mom, she isn't here, who's gonna serve the lord, oh no." she began to panic, but she stopped looking at you.
"you can do it."
"me?" your eyes widened, "i can't do it, you said it yourself, my mom only does it." she put everything neatly on the tray. "that's why you should do it, your her daughter." she handed it to you. "absolutely not, i mean i don't even know where his wing is." you push the tray slowly away from you.
"it's the right wing, please , i will owe you one." she pushed back towards you. you looked into her pleading eyes. "tsk, fine." she smiled handing you tray. "you owe me." she gave you a tumbs up. "remember, quite as you work, or whatever that rule was." you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to correct her, you had other things to worry about. like where the hell was the right wing...
"god where the hell is his room?" you whispered as you basically tipped toed through the halls of the castle. chaewon made it seem like it was easy to find, you knew you shouldn't have listen to someone who's been here for a year and hasn't even left the kitchen or met the lord.
"this was so stupid." you should've just waited like you suggestive, instead hear you are lost in the castle, trying not to cry out in frustration. "i've had enough of this, where's his damn room." you started to get a bit upset.
"excuse me." a deep voice made you shriek in fear, and the next thing you know the tea was thrown over the person, he gasped. "shit!" he cursed, probably because the was hot and now it was on all over his body...
it was hyunjin. lord hyunjin.
hyunjin was confused, his servents knew his schedule, so where was his tea? everyday at this hour his tea is served my mrs.lee quietly in his art room, just like he likes it, where is she?
"hyune what's wrong?" he sighed under his brearh at the voice that had plagued him for the past few weeks. "nothing hana, you know you're not supposed to be in here." she was only supposed to be here a night, and now suddenly she's asking for big dinners with him and her friends, he didn't mind though, he'll entertain her delusions of marrying him for a few weeks, then break it off with her by sleeping with her bestfriend, it should be fine, it always worked out for him in the end.
"i can't wait anymore." he got up. "someone will answer for this, come get out." he closed the door leaving hana who was confused standing outside it.
he was making his way to the kitchen for the first time in years, he was surprised he still knew where it was, especially since this castle was pretty ginormous.
"i've had enough of this, where is his damn room." a voice made him stop and turn, a young girl around his age holding his tea tray. had something happen to mrs.lee? who was this girl?"
hyunjin thought he was making loud enough steps, but apparently not, since when he went to get your attention, you shrieked in terror, the tray slipping out of your hand, and landing right on his clothes. "shit!" he jumped back in pain because of the hot drink.
"oh no, im so dead." you panicked, trying to pick everything up. "i am so sorry." you grabbed the napkin off the tray, trying to blot it off his suit. "please don't fire or kill me it was an accident." you rambled, realizing the napkin was as useless as the most useless thing on the planet.
"it's fine, wait your arm is bur- what the hell are you doing." hyunjin rolled his eyes as hana approached you both, grabbing your arm, you flinched in pain, but only hyunjin seemed to see it, because hana didn't let your arm go.
"i..im so sorry."
"you damn well better be, his suit ruined, and you've probably burned his skin—oh my hyune are you okay." hyunjin's eyes were on your wrist, it must've hurt more since it was directly on your skin, but you didn't utter not one moan of pain.
you both made eye contact, and he awkwardly coughed. "hana, im fine, i just need a new suit." she turned to you. "well why are you standing there still? go fetch the tailor and get him a new suit." he watched you practically run away with the tray in your hand. "idiot, you should have her fired." he side eyed hana, removing her hand from his chest, walking away back to his room, his tea was all over him, but why could he only worry about the burn on your arm?
"it's my first day and im gonna be fired, my mom has been gone fore 2 hours max and im already gonna lose the job." you panicked as chaewon bandaged your arm, you tried to tell her it barely hurt, but in reality she was just trying to compensate for putting you in said mess. "i am so sorry, this is all my fault, i put too much pressure on you on your first day."
"it's fine i guess, no one was really hurt." you said. "my ego is though." she pouted. "i am so sorry." she apologized once more, just another maid ran in. "it's time to serve dinner, there's a few guest, so remember, we are to be seen and not heard, let's not cause even more of a scene." she looked at you and chaewon, you both just lowered your heads in embarrassment. "chop chop!"
everyone set everything up so perfect on the rollie trays. "should you really be in control of the trays." you glared at the male staff next to you. "shut it beomgyu." chaewon slapped his arm. "the three of you let's go." you quickly shut your mouths as you made your way to the eating area.
there were many girls, squealing and talking as you entered into the room, must be her friends, the way hyunjin looked so disinterested. "i can't believe it all these girls and the bastard acts like this." beomgyu said under his breath. "beomgyu, shut up." chaewon said quietly through her fake smile.
"both of you stop it, dispurst so they won't notice." you said walking the other way, right towards hyunjin. 'shit' it was too late to turn around without anyone noticing you literally trying run away from serving the high lord himself, so you sucked it up, head down as you made your way over to him.
hyunjin saw you walking over to him, he was so bored, and all he could think of was if your wrist was okay so this perfect. you walked over to him head down to the floor, you took this seen but not heard thing seriously he thought. "cute." he chuckled under his breath, covering it with a cough as you grew closer to him.
you put his food in front of him, about to walk away, but he softly grabbed your wrist. "does it hurt?" you were shocked he even asked. "you can answer." you were too stunned. "uh- excuse you." hana interrupted you. "my friend needs her food." you quickly gave him a nod, before walking to them.
"that's her, the one who tried to burn the high lord." you cringed, hearing her gossip to her friend. "and she's still working here?" you were pretty sure they wanted you to hear. "you know hyunjin is just so kind, he would never to that to someone so poor." you were a lesser fae so you were pretty much powerless, but you definitely would have used them on her if you were strong enough. "watch this." hana knocked over the cup sneakily.
"jesus! can you do anything right, constantly dropping things, why won't you just quit if you're gonna be this useless." your jaw dropped. "b- are you about to speak?" mrs.bae, another maid ran over to you. "she didn't mean it, we'll have this cleaned up right now, beomgyu."
"whatever, just get out of my sight." mrs.bae nodded dragging you away. you glanced at hyunjin who looked at you with sympathy in his eyes. "let's go." mrs.bae dragged you into the kitchen.
after your second scolding of the day you were told to stay in the kitchen and do the dishes, so you did until it was time for the servants to quietly return to their quarters.
"it was the worst first day ever." you sat on your uncomfortable mattress. "you definitely take the cake for worst first days." beomgyu plopped his butt right on your bed. "why is he here." chaewon threw her pillow at the boy. "i really don't know why i keep you around, useless i tell you, get out." she picked up the show, getting ready to throw it. "fine, im gone." he got up leaving out your small room. "we get the smallest rooms because we're the youngest." chaewon picked her pillow up. "of course." you layed on your back, staring up at the dingy light.
"well there's always tomorrow." she turned off the light, darkness engluf the room. "i guess." you sighed, closing your eyes letting sleep wash over you.
you guys were rushed out of bed the next morning to start the day. "jesus it's so early." beomgyu stumbled into the kitchen. "i hate this job." you and chaewon laughed at the boy who washed the fruits, grumbling a bunch of curse words under his breath. "you must not be a morning person." you teased. "oh haha mrs.tray." you glared are him. "asshole." chaewon slapped your arm, but you brushed it off. "you started it." he retaliated, you noticed chaewon was quite, the whole kitchen was in fact except you and beomgyu.
chaewon stared in shock towards the entrance of the kitchen, your eyes followed hers, mouth opened in shock. "good morning." hyunjin stood there, no one said anything. "is breakfast almost ready?" mrs.bae spoke up. "a..almost sir, sorry for keeping you waiting." he held his hand up. "don't apologize, just wanted to see how it was coming along, don't mind me." he walked around the kitchen looking at everything, while everyone walked on eggshells.
he looked over to the station where you three quietly did your task. you guys locked eyes and he made his way over. "shit." all three of you said, looking at the fruit like it was actually intresting, beomgyu was itching to make a joke, you coud see his left eye twitching.
"good morning." you heard his voice, smooth like honey in your ear. "is your wrist okay?" you nodded, eyes on the fruit, chopping them right beside chaewon.
"you know i prefer it so much better when someone verbally answers me, and looks me in the eye." he whispered in your ear, his hand grazing yours. "let's try that again, is your wrist okay." you breathed, turning your head, his face very close to yours, but you looked him in the eyes. "it's fine." you hope you didn't sound too breathless.
"good girl."
your knees almost went weak, you swore you would've fell if it weren't for chaewon, he smirked walking away leaving everyone shocked at what just happened. he whispered something into mrs.bae's ear before leaving the kitchen, and you could hear the collective sigh wash over the room.
"girl." chaewon turned to you. "what the hell was that?" you shrugged, trying to collect your thoughts. "i..i don't know." you spoke. "did you seduce the high lord?" beomgyu wasn't joking. "our first meeting was me spilling hot tea over him, i doubt it." "maybe he has a kink for that." chaewon slapped beomgyu. "shut up."
"im just saying." he threw his hands up in defense. "i mean it's not my thing, but i don't judge." you listened to them argue, as mrs.bae walked over to you. "the high lord has requested you to his bedroom." chaewon snickered. "it's a bit early for that." you glared. "shut up." your face was hot. "get back to work, you will go to his room and clean, quietly, and then make your way back to the kitchen to get ready for lunch." she instructed.
"try not to burn him again." chaewon and beomgyu bursted out into a fit of laughter. "why did i chose you two as friends." you glared at them, walking out the kitchen, someone escorting you to his room this time, to avoid you getting lost.
you hesitantly knock on the door, waiting for him to allow you to come in. "enter." you shakily open the door, slowing walking in. "i'm here to clean your-ah! i'm sorry i thought you said enter." you covered your eyes, embarrassed beause he was standing in a towel. "i did."
"but you're naked." he laughed. "im not naked, i have a towel, would you like me to show you naked." you shook your head. "i..it's fine, i'll just clean quickly and be on my way." hyunjin nodded watching you as began to make his bed. "so mrs.lee was your mom." you nodded, you weren't sure if you should speak, mrs.bae told you not to, and she scared you more than any high lord.
"she's been here since i was a kid, she never mentioned having a kid not once." you chuckled to yourself, but he heard you. "what's so funny?" "doesn't that kinda of defeat the purpose of the whole seen and not heard thing?" he thought about. "i guess it does."
"i didn't come up with that rule you know, it's always be installed into the workers." he spoke up. "why haven't you changed it." you mumbled to yourself as you swept off the step of the fireplace, suddenly you were being spun around. "speak up, stop mumbling." your eyes widen. "i..im sorry." he sighed.
"stop apologizing for everything, you said what was on your mind, don't go back on it." he wasn't that tall, but he was tall enough to hover over you. "what did say, say louder this time." he commanded.
"i said why haven't you changed it?"
he shrugged, "i guess i haven't really paying attention to it, guess i've doing other things." he spoke. "you mean other people." you said boldly. "oh? bold aren't we?" he smirked and you realized how close he actually was, eyes traveling down, stopping at his waist. "my eyes are up here." his hand came up to your chin ready to grab.
"hyune!" he dropped his hand rolling eyes, and you quickly turned around, just before hana skipped into the room. "i missed you." she wrapped her arms around the boy. "i seen you yesterday." you smiled to yourself, but hyunjin seen and it made him smile, knowing he got you to smile... you have such a nice smile.
"what is she doing in here?" hana finally acknowledged you, could you not get someone else, is there no one else in this big castle?" the hell did she have to be so rude for, you would've thought the tea fell on her. "hana, her mother is mrs lee, she basically raised me, she's new but with some training, she'll be a good worker." hyunjin walked over to you grabbing your shoulders. "won't you?" he whispered in your ear, like this morning, except this time he's in a towel.
"y..yes."
"good girl, you can go now, i'll see you tomorrow." you quickly grab everything, almost tripping over your dress— luckily you didn't, making your way out of the room so fast, leaving a satisfied hyunjin, and a annoyed hana.
"what game are you playing here hyunjin?" hana said once she was sure you were gone. "what are you talking about hana?" he put on his clothed for the day. "you know what i mean, are we gonna get together officially like i've been telling my friends , or am i not important anymore, is the new maid more important than me?" hyunjin turned facing hana.
"hana, what are you talking about? you knew what this was long ago, what to do you mean telling your friends." he said, he knew it was cold, but hana wasn't exactly the nicest person either, i mean hyunjin seen how she treated you. "i know but, i was hoping- there's the problem, you're hoping for the wrong thing, your mate is out there somewhere, it's just not me, we can have fun until you find him though." he kissed her cheek, leaving the pissed off fae alone in the room.
ever since you've arrived, you've done nothing but piss her off, she and hyunjin were fine before you got here and now the saddest thing is, he looks at you with love in his eyes, and he can barely spare her a glance anymore... she was pissed off.
"stay back here today, wash the dishes." mrs.bae ordered during lunch. "guess they're still a bit traumatized." beomgyu teased as they left out the kitchen for lunch.
"stupid dishes." you grumbled, plate in your hand scrubbing it. "i didn't even do anything, it was her." you were speaking to yourself. "she spilled the drink."
"who did?" hana stood in the corridor. "are you talking about me?" you shook your head, she scoffed. "look at you, you can't even speak without my permission, how dare a lesser faerie talk to hyunjin in such a unprofessional manner." she walked closer, stalking you with her eyes. "pretty pathetic if you ask me, trying to seduce him." you turned to her. "im not."
"did i say you could speak." she slammed her hand on the counter next to sink. "we may not be together, but he'll never choose a lesser fae, remember that." her eyes flashed to the sink, which started to fill up with more water, even though the sink wasn't on.
"what is-" water manipulation, she was doing this. "please don't do this." you begged, but it fell on deafs ears as it began to overflow on to the floor. "what is going on here." mrs.bae had returned back.
"look at what you did you dumb fae." hana said. "i ask you to do one simple thing and you go and mess up the floor."
"i didn't you did, you did this." everyone gasped. "what did you say?" she was fuming, how dare you have the guts to talk back. "i said- enough." mrs.bae grabbed your wrist. "she didn't mean in ma'am, we'll clean this quickly, we're sorry for the inconvenience, lunch is being served right now, so if you make your way into the dining area, and we'll clean this up right now." mrs.bae waited for hana to leave, who threw a sly smirk as she left out of the room before she turned on her stern face. "i should fire you." she hissed.
"if it wasn't for your mother, i would've fired you already." you lowered your head, once again feeling defeated. "go to your room and stay there for the rest of the evening." she instructed. "but- now!" her voice made you jump, and you made your way down to the maids quarters, embarrassed, ashamed and pissed off.
it went like that for the next 3 days, you weren't allowed to leave the maids quarters, they sent someone else to cleans hyunjins room, you'd only talk to chaewon and beomgyu.
you were ready to go back to work, you grew to love chaewon and tolerate beomgyu, but if you were being honest, you missed interacting with hyunjin, the way he talked to you made your heart flutter like you've never felt before. "maybe today will be the last day." chaewon tried to give you hope.
"then you can get back to screwing the high lord." beomgyu sat on your bed. "come on you two, we have work to attend to, it's castle cleaning day." mrs.bae walked into the room. "and beomgyu i've told you to stop entering the girls room." beomgyu apologized, knowing he'd do it again. "when will i'll be able to return to work?" you asked for the fourth time.
"when i say you can." she closed the door, leaving you alone once again. "you said that the last three days." you said to yourself really, your head hit the pillow, staring at the ceiling.
hyunjin was hoping to see you, it's been three days since he's seen you, hana did tell him what happened and that you had been in trouble, but he was starting to miss you, and the way you would shy away from him, fuck he needed to see you.
"mrs.bae?" the older woman stopped scolding beomgyu on how he was scrubbing the wall. "yes my lord." she responded."is _ returning anytime soon?" she looked with a confused eye. "my lord i was under the suspicion that you wanted her fired." he would never get rid of you, he hasn't felt this alive in a while. "nonsense, i'll go tell her myself she is to return to work tomorrow." he quickly made his escape before she could question him.
you were extremely bored, nothing to do. "i never thought i would miss work." you sighed to yourself. "that's good then." you thought you were hearing things. "you'll be able to come back tomorrow." you sat up, facing the man standing in the door. "really?" your eyes lit up. "that is so cool, thank you, i can't wait to get back to work!"
"wow, i come all the way down here to see you and your more happy about work." he grabbed his chest in faux pain. "im hurt princess."
"y..you came down here to see me? w...why?"
"isn't is obvious that i'm attracted to you love?" your face was hot. was he getting close? yes he was. "i thought it was pretty obvious, i didn't come down to the kitchen after avoiding it for almost 20 something years just to say hi to everyone." he sat down on your bed stroking your cheek,. "i came to see you." he whispered.
"i want you."
"h..hyunjin, we can't." you grabbed his hand. "why can't we?" he said. "come on princess, im not stupid, i seen how you almost fell to your knees when i gave you the littlest bit of attention, you mean to tell me you don't feel anything for me? hmm?"
of course you did, but this was your job, and you couldn't jeopardize that. "i...- just give me a kiss, one kiss, and we'll see how you feel right then." he held your face in his hand. "o..okay, just one kiss." you whispered.
"just one kiss." he slowly leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. it was a passionate kiss, a kiss that you would remember for the rest of your life. "princess, was that your first kiss?" he smirked pulling away. "my pretty baby is a virgin, that's why you don't think we should do it?" his words made your face burn.
"don't laugh at me." you pulled away, frowning. "im not laughing baby i swear." his lips were swollen from the kiss, you couldn't keep your eyes off them. "you want more kisses, you drunk off my kiss love?" you whined and he bit his lips. "don't make those pretty noises baby." he pulled you into another passionate kiss. "i won't be able to resist you if you whine so prettily for me." he began to kiss your neck.
"h..hyunjin." you sighed. "hmm princess?" he rubbed your sides. "i..i want you." he had you right where he wanted. "were do you want me princess." you whined, embarrassed. "you know." he did, he knew exactly where you wanted, but he wasn't gonna give you what you wanted until you told him.
"i told you i prefer when people look me in my eyes." he grabbed your chin to look at him. "and tell me what they want." you bit your lip. "i want you d..down there." your neck was on fire, as his eyes traveled down. "you want me down there, to do what?" you were about to cry from how much you needed him. "want me to give you kisses down there?" you nodded, "yes, yes i do." you finally spoke up, he smiled.
"good girl, you used your words, now lay back." you slowly layed back, he slotted his body in between your legs, lifting up your dress, pulling your underwear down. "your pussy is so pretty." he licked his bottom lip, coating it with spit. "i bet you taste amazing." he kissed your slit, licking his lip again. "i was right, you taste amazing." he dove right in, kissing and licking your sweet cunt.
"h..hyunjin!" you prayed no one would come down and hear the noises coming from your mouth and the noises he was making below. "f...feels good." he hummed into your pussy, his eyes sharp looking up at you as he ate you out.
you gripped the horrible sheets below you as he continued the assault. "h..hyunjin i..it feels funny." he detached his mouth from your clit, replacing it with his fingers. "go a head, let yourself go." he rubbed finger eights into your clit as the knot in your stomach snapped and pleasure washed over your entire boy. "good girl." he kissed your lips, tasting yourself on his lips. "how was that princess?" you smiled lazily. "g..good."
"do you want me to- next time love, next time, i just want to be with you right now." he said laying down in the uncomfortable bed next to you. "let's just lay here." he whispered into your hairs. so that's what you did, for the rest of the day, you stayed in the bed, talking only moving when hyunjin had to hide behind to door when chaewon came in to check in on you when she had a quick minute or when beomgyu snuck you in a cookie, in which hyunjin rolled his eyes in jealousy, asking why couldn't he send chaewon to do it.
"beomgyu? if you want to be jealous of anybody, i'd be jealous of chaewon before beomgyu." you laughed. "it was one cookie, he should've bought more, he has ulterior motives." he pouted and you just kissed his lips. "he likes chaewon, calm down." you gave him half of the cookie. "it's not even warm " he bit into the cookie.
sadly he eventually had to go. "i don't want to." he groaned. "you have to." you pushed him out. "hurry before they come back." he scoffed. "i'm the high lord, who i date is my concern." you smiled at him confirming your relationship. "yeah but this is my job, and mrs.bae can still fire me." you gave him one more kiss.
"fine, but i want you to clean my room tomorrow, not chaewon, i told her it was fine to speak and im starting to think one of her ancestors were the reason the reason why the rule was put in place." he kissed your forehead, before walking down the hall, turning back to look at you one more time before turning the corner, you closed the door with a dumb smile on your face.
the next morning you returned back to work the next morning, helping with breakfast, before mrs.bae told you to head to hyunjins room to clean. "okay." you said. "try not smile so hard." chaewon whispered. "huh?" you said. "beomgyu is dumb, but he isn't deaf, he heard you and the high lord talking yesterday." your eyes widened turning to beomgyu. "tell him it's most definitely just a cookie, and that im offened that he'd think i'm that desperate." you were about slap his arm when mrs.bae interrupted.
"go now." you jumped at him, before walking out of the kitchen with the supplies in your hand to his room, trying to hide the smile on your face, you couldn't wait to see him.
you knocked on the door, but he quickly opened it; pulling you in, closing it, pinning you against it. "i missed you." he kissed your lips. "you seen me yesterday." you laughed. "it felt so long ago." he tucked a strand of hair out your face. "i want to show you something." he took your hand, guiding you out the room, making sure no one was watching.
"your art room?" he nodded, opening the door. "i never let anyone in here." he said. "but yesterday i was so bored so i painted something, and i wanted to show you." he walked you to a covered easel. "you ready?" you nodded. "show me." he pulled the cover off, and your eyes widened. "m..me?" you turned to him. "i couldn't get you off my mind yesterday, so i came here to paint, i couldn't help." he wrapped his arms around you. "you've clouded my mind, i haven't thought of any girls, or anything since i first saw you."
"the first time you saw me i spilled tea all over yourself." he winced at the thought. "you were so cute, it didn't really hurt, but you were so determined to get the tea out of the shirt." you slapped his chest. "stop it." you frowned. "i'm sorry." he kissed your pouted lips. "you were so cute." he kissed you again, this time more passionately.
"h..hyunjin." he pushed you against the desk in the room, lifting you on it, pushing your dress up. "so so cute." he began to grind against your heat.
"i've been hard since yesterday, no matter how many times i tried to jerk off, im still hard." he pulled your panties down, along with his pants and underwear. "i'll be gentle i swear." he lined his cock at your heat, slowly pushing inside you. "oh fuck, you're so tight, your pussy can barely take me."he kissed your neck. "hyunjin." you moaned. "f..feel s..so full." he toyed with your clothed nipples as he fucked into you. "fuck princess, i don't think i can be with anyone else after you, you've ruined me for anyone else shit! " he felt himself about to cum. "hyunjin, im gonna cum." he nodded. "me too love." you pulled him into a passionate as you both came his cum painting your insides.
"fuck, what are you doing to me?" he breathed, his forehead against yours. "why am i falling for you so hard?"
you both cleaned yourselves off, putting your panties back on he wrapped his arms around your waist, your arms draped around his neck, he slowly swayed your bodies left to right, the both of you were so caught up with each other, you didn't even realize you were being watched.
hana was on the other side of the door seething, she thought she had gotten rid of you with the water thing. "i have to get back to the kitchen." she wanted to rip her pointed ears off to keep from hearing your giggles. "i'll come check on you later." hyunjin said. "you really need to let me work, i have a family back home to feed." hana smirked, an evil idea forming.
"how was it?" chaewon and beomgyu were chopping veggies when you returned. you rolled your eyes. "i'm not having this conversation right now." you washed your hands, getting ready to help. "i'll tell you later." you whispered. "okay." she gave you a thumbs up.
"you dumb bitch!" a loud voice made you turn around, but before you could react, a hand went straight across your face. "how dare you." you realized it was hana. "yah! you can't hit her like that." chaewon jumped in. "how dare you speak to me, you lesser fae need to learn your place." her hand went up to smack chaewon, and you snapped, grabbing her wrist, pushing it down.
"have y-" the entire kitchen went silent as they as your hand went straight across her face. "keep your hands off her." she grabbed the spot where you slapped her. "whatever you're pissed about, be pissed about it, but you don't get to treat us like trash because were servents."
"what's going on here?" mrs.bae returned from the back, hana turned on the water works. "first you seduce the high lord, knowing we're in a relationship, then you slap me like im in the wrong." your eyes widened. "bullshit, you came in here and hit her like a maniac." beomgyu cut in. "beomgyu!" mrs.bae yelled. "and she seduce anyone, he came on to her besides, you two aren't even together, he said it himself." chaewon exclaimed.
"mrs.bae is this how you run things all three of them should be fired." hana screeched. "enough!" mrs.bae yelled, it fell silence again. "you have been nothing but trouble since you've gotten here, never in my years has the castle been this discombobulated, staff talking out of order, talking when shouldn't, everything." you lowered your head, knowing what was coming. "i will have order."
"you two." she pointed to beomgyu and chaewon. "all three of you are to leave the castle and never return." you looked back up. "chaewon and beomgyu did nothing." you said. "it was pointless bringing in three young kids like you guys, go pack your stuff, you will leave at the end of the shift."
"what's going on here?" hyunjin walked into the tension filled kitchen. "hana what are you doing here?" she was silent. "there was a incident, hana was hurt but we are solving it right now- i was hit!" she screamed for more sympathy.
"i'd hit you again if he wasn't here." chaewon spat. "why are you three still here, go." mrs.bae said. "where are they going?" hyunjin asked looking at the three of you. "what happened?" he asked you. "she slapped me." hana jumped in. "hana told us how she tried to seduce you- seduce me?" he questioned.
"hana, i told you this already." he said. "yeah but she- she is my girlfriend, she didn't seduce i went after her first." everyone gasped, including hana. "her, a lesser faerie, are you serious hyunjin." he shrugged, walking up to you, pulling you right into a kiss. "does that help?" you slapped his chest. "w..why would do that, i'm at work." he smiled down at you kissing your head.
"i told you he fell first." beomgyu turned to chaewon. "it was the tea thing, told you, some people like that." chaewon slapped his arm. "everyone back to work." mrs.bae yelled. "mrs.hana, let me escort you out." the girl stomped out of the kitchen in defeat. "back to work." mrs.bae said leaving out.
"i have to get back to work." you pulled away. "wait since they're dating, do we have to listen to her?" the three of you turned to beomgyu. "shut up, just shut up." chaewon repeatedly hit him.
"no you don't beomgyu." hyunjin kissed you one more time, eyeing the boy.
"just if you're gonna bring cookies, bring some for me too."
Tumblr media
©️LUVYENI
611 notes · View notes
venusjeon · 1 year
Text
dragon bond
Tumblr media
you're forced to marry your older brother in the tradition of your house, but it's the younger one who owns your heart.
♔ PAIRING: prince!hoseok x princess!reader
♔ GENRE: house of the dragon au, angst, fluff, smut
♔ WORD COUNT: 5.2k
♔ WARNINGS: incest!! yup, they're targaryen bro&sis. JEALOUSY, underage making out+groping+grinding (hs 15/oc 17), swearing, drinking, bloodplay, "cheating", +18 oral, loss of virginity (guys i think i have a kink)
♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: you don't really need to have watched house of the dragon or game of thrones to understand this (there are no spoilers btw) but just know it's its own medieval fantasy world. also, sorry it took longer than usual, school and the tedious smut bit at the end are to blame:(
Tumblr media
120 AC
Today of all days, he was doing it again.
Your brother Yoongi was only five and ten years of age, yet he didn’t shy away from flirting with every lady or maid that crossed his path. It mattered not to him that your parents had betrothed you to one another, nor that most girls only indulged him because he was heir to the throne.
To you, his future queen, it did matter.
Crossing the great hall full of nobles who’d travelled to the capital from all over the Seven Kingdoms to celebrate your thirteenth name day, you reached Yoongi and dismissed the lady whose cheek he was caressing. Although she curled her upper lip at your curt tone, she wasted no time in running off, glad you’d intervened. Your brother wasn’t, especially when you grabbed his hand and dragged him to an empty balcony.
The views were beautiful, of the whole city and beyond, but each time you stood there you couldn’t help but wonder how many brothels in that labyrinth of alleyways Yoongi had frequented. In various occasions already, you’d heard him slip out of his chambers in the dead of night, seen him leave the Red Keep from your window… He always wore a cloak that covered his hair so no one on the streets would recognise him, but you reckoned the whores of King’s Landing knew well enough whom he was.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he spat after shaking you off assertively, with scant regard for whether he’d hurt you. He had a little, but you were too used to being treated so by him to complain. “Have you forgotten who I am?”
“My betrothed. Have you forgotten that I’m to be your queen, stand beside you when you sit on the Iron Throne? I think you must have, else you wouldn’t woo other girls so openly.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I can do whatever I want, and it’s no business of yours.”
“Of course it is! You’re humiliating me before the court! How can I expect to be respected as a queen if my husband won’t respect me as his wife?”
“You’ll not be a queen, you fool,” Yoongi laughed, the sound pricking your heart as though it were a dagger. “You’ll be my consort, there to just breed me heirs. Nothing more. But this is not about respect, is it? It’s about jealousy.”
There it was, the twisting of the dagger. You couldn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t know w-what you’re talking about.”
Yoongi sighed. “Listen well, you’re a freak and I don’t like you, the only reason I’m marrying you is because father’s forcing me to. It’s getting annoying, your following me around, so stop it! Go play with your dolls, or sew, or whatever plain little girls do, but don’t make me suffer your presence any more than I have to.”
He left you there, frozen in your spot as his hurtful words sunk in. And that was it.
Unbeknownst to you, Hoseok was hiding in the shadows, had eavesdropped the whole thing. Two years younger, he was your other brother, and after witnessing Yoongi leave you in tears for demanding a crumb of mercy, he wished he was the only one.
✩ ✩ ✩
You were spending the night of your name day heartbroken, crying in your bed curled up in a ball.
It was true, what Yoongi claimed. You held a torch for him.
How could you not? He was older, dashing, handsome. You watched in awe as he trained in the courtyard, or flew around on his mighty dragon; blushed whenever his eyes landed on you—even if it was momentarily—or he mentioned you by name, or held your hand in public events.
Now, you weren’t stupid. It was clear he didn’t return your feelings... You had just hoped someday he might.
Were you from any other family, it’d be a blasphemous scandal, but intermarriage to keep the lineage pure was the norm for yours. Targaryens were said to be closer to the gods than to men, after all, so different rules applied.
Perhaps people thought that because you were dragonlords, could ride the magical creatures that helped your ancestors Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys conquer the Seven Kingdoms some hundred and twenty years ago. Perhaps they did because you looked like deities, with your silver hair and purple irises, and still spoke the language of old Valyria. Or perhaps it was because the future was shown to some members of your house through dreams.
It didn’t matter why. It wasn’t true, anyway. No goddess could be as pathetic as you, rejected by her own intended on her birthday.
Then amid your woe, someone knocked on the door of your chambers. Wiping your wet cheeks, you sat up. Who would bother you so late, past midnight? Part of you wished it was Yoongi bringing a sincere apology, but when you gave permission to enter, it was your other brother who came in with a lit candle in hand.
“Hoseok?”
He approached the bed shyly, almost embarrassed. You guessed why when he asked, “Can I sleep here with you tonight?”
Nodding, you made some space for him. “Had another nightmare?” It was your mother’s bed he usually climbed to, yours only when she had been called to your father’s. You didn’t mind it at all. Tonight, in fact, you were glad he’d cuddle up to you like a pup.
Hoseok placed the candle on your bedside table and lay beside you under the sheets, shaking his head. “I didn’t want you to be sad on your own. I heard what Yoongi said to you earlier…”
“Oh…” You were the embarrassed one now. “It’s fine. He’s always like that, so I know not to take it to heart. I’m not sad... but thank you for caring. You are sweet, brother.”
Setting aside the clear lie for a moment, Hoseok held in a sigh. Brother. Why did you never call Yoongi that?
“He doesn’t deserve it, you know?” he muttered, making you frown. “Your heart.”
Were your damned feelings common knowledge? It was supposed to be an ideal situation to fancy one’s betrothed, but if people learned it was one-sided, your humiliation would be twice.
“H-He doesn’t have it.”
“Stop lying, yes he does!” Hoseok was upset, but you couldn’t fathom why. What was it to him if you chose to keep your infatuation secret? Despite the mutual affection, you weren’t that close. He took a deep breath to regain composure, then said quietly with his purple eyes cast down, “It should be me that you were marrying.”
A chuckle escaped you. “What?”
“Yoongi is a cunt and a bully. He treats you like– Well, he mistreats you! Yet you still follow him around, hoping in vain that he’ll turn into a charming prince like those from the poems you read. I know I’m not one either…” he found the courage to look up and hold your hand under the sheets, and your smile disappeared, “but I would never be mean to you, Y/N. I’d be honoured to take you to wife.”
Afraid of rejection, Hoseok had promised himself to never reveal he was smitten by you. How could he meddle in the betrothal of his siblings? He’d learned to endure the nightmares in which you faced a lonely and miserable married life, but after seeing Yoongi make you cry, he couldn’t let you forgive him again, pretend nothing had happened.
You, in all honesty, were shocked. There hadn’t been a moment when you’d thought of Hoseok as anything other than a little boy. Although… that was exactly what Yoongi thought of you.
Had you been in love with the wrong brother all along?
It wasn’t something one could choose, sure, but Hoseok’s confession had felt like a slap back into reality. The Yoongi you loved and were loved by was fictional, the Hoseok who’d always been kind to you of flesh and blood—the same blood as you.
“I think that, like Aegon the Conqueror…” you took his hand in yours, “I’ll keep company with one sibling out of duty and with the other out of desire.”
An exhale of relief quickly turned into a blushing smile on Hoseok’s face, and you smiled too, pleased at the turn of events.
Your name day was ending on the loveliest note.
Tumblr media
By the time you were seven and ten, you still hadn’t married Yoongi. And thank the gods for that.
Alliances were achieved through the means of marriage, and your father feared tying two of his children with a knot might mean two missed opportunities, so the wedding was indefinitely delayed. What worried you was that if your hand was given to some distant lord, you’d be forced to leave King’s Landing and in doing so, Hoseok.
As the years passed and you grew up, so did the love you bore each other.
He was the only person who made you lose track of time, so at ease did you feel when you were with him—which he made certain was constantly.
And when you weren’t together with smiles plastered on your faces, he was learning how to play songs on his harp to later recite to you, or training to win every joust and dedicate you his victory with a wreath of flowers; and you weaving him garments with threads of gold so everyone would envy his riches, or writing to travellers so they’d come to court and tell him about the world he so longed to explore on dragonback.
Hoseok had been knighted recently, and that being added to his fine looks made every girl at court drool for him. He payed attention to none. His heart was yours alone. The knighting had meant nothing for Yoongi, however, who mocked him for not yet having bonded with a dragon.
Whatever interest you’d once harboured for your older brother had sailed away, never to return. Now, you didn’t hesitate to send him to the seven hells whenever he hurled words of abuse at Hoseok. You’d then assure the latter that his worth wasn’t measured in whether or not he was a rider, and that he would get a dragon one day. In the mean time, he sat behind you on the saddle with his arms wrapped around your waist when you flew your own above the clouds.
But all that was during the day. At night, Hoseok had made a habit of slipping into your chambers.
Fortunately, he’d not suffered from nightmares in years, which led him to believe they weren’t premonitory dreams. So even if you were married to another, Hoseok could and would make you happy.
You’d spend hours talking, laughing, caressing each other, kissing... It was hard to hold back when all you wanted was for him to consume you like fire, but contrary to popular belief, Targaryens weren’t immune to the flames, so if you burned, you wouldn’t rise again. That is, if you fell pregnant and the affair was discovered, society would brand you as a whore for the rest of your life and beyond. Without doubt, history books would record such shameful conduct.
Besides, Yoongi wouldn’t take kindly to it. Not at all out of jealousy, but because the only aspect in which he cared about you was procreational. If he couldn’t be sure your children were his, he’d get rid of you once he became king. Of Hoseok too, knowing him. Fear of that demise was enough to scare you into stopping right before matters ever escalated.
That night, however, neither seemed able to stop.
Lying on your bed, Hoseok was devouring your lips with a hunger foreign to him. His kisses were usually chaste and slow, now wet and urgent, as if he was going to die the next day and wanted to make the best out of what time he had left.
His tongue didn’t tire of exploring yours, sliding across it, tasting it, producing the lewdest sound. The only instants he put it out of your mouth was to lick his lips and in turn coat yours with his saliva, eager to keep going, keep taking your breath away.
When your arms curled around his neck, Hoseok got the hint that you wanted his body against yours and readily obliged, drawing close enough to feel your chest rise and fall as you panted, and your heart race. His hand travelled from your cheek down to your neck, and he had to restrain the urge to choke you. How pretty you’d look with his hand around your throat… But no, he moved lower and cupped your breast. Hells, why were you still wearing clothes? He wanted to lick your nipples until they hardened. His cock was certainly already so.
To his delight, you moaned against his lips when his grip tightened, so he kept groping your breast, though careful not to near the edge of pain—the only of which you felt was in your core, uncomfortable enough to make you squirm.
Hoseok noticed, sneaked his knee between your thighs so his own would come to contact with your aching spot, and he began grinding, the friction making you pull away from the kiss to gasp. Only then did you realise how wet you were, juices likely dampening not only your nightgown, but your brother’s also.
“Hoseok…”
Shaky breath warm against your skin, he whispered in your ear, “I know, darling one. It feels good, hm? I’ll give you just what you need…” He next kissed your neck, sucked on it as he had your tongue. The feeling was so lovely that you minded not he would mark you. You minded not a single thing in the world, actually. “Gods, Y/N… I want to kiss you between your legs too...”
It took a few seconds, but the spell did break.
You pulled Hoseok away. “How do you know that is a thing that is done?”
This was the same boy who, some weeks past, was convinced running his fingers through a girl’s locks brought her pleasure, so there was a hint of sudden fear in the purple of his eyes. That he’d been caught.  “I was told by Lord Taehyung. He is married, as you know.”
At once, you got up, hugged yourself. Hoseok sank his elbows on the bed, and with his gaze followed you pace around nervously. “Nobody knows you better than I. Do you think I can’t tell when you’re lying?”
“I’m not!”
Anyone would call you a fool, tell you that you should’ve seen it coming, that possessing a man’s heart was no assurance he wouldn’t stray from fidelity. But Hoseok had proved to be different… Was it your fault, then, because you’d failed to satisfy his needs?
“Who is she?”
Hoseok dropped his head on the pillow with a deep sigh, then laboriously sat up. “It was in a brothel.”
You felt a lump form in your throat, tears in your eyes. “You went to a brothel…”
“It’s not what you think.” Hoseok moved to the edge of the bed, but you took a step back, so he knew to remain sat. “Yoongi dragged me there. He said it was time I became a man. I wanted to leave, but he wouldn’t let me, made me at least watch... I touched nobody and nobody touched me, I swear, Y/N. The only good thing I take from it is that I learned some ways in which to please you.”
You stared at him in silence for a while. He was telling the truth, but then, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want Yoongi to upset you again.” He looked down, voice sinking into a whisper as he confessed, “And it is a hard claim to defend… I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”
“My love, I believe you.” Having exhaled the air from your lungs that anguish had been withholding, you sat beside Hoseok and held him in an embrace comforting for both. “Yoongi will pay for this. I promise you, someday he will.”
Your brother buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you caressed his silver hair. “I love you more than I hate him. If he’s to pay, let it be by another’s hand. Don’t let him come between us.”
“He won't. Ever”
Tumblr media
Your father made up his mind when you reached the age of twenty.
In front of half the realm’s nobility at the great hall, you and Yoongi were dressed in traditional Valyrian robes, performing the rites of marriage.
Harder than he should’ve, the bastard sliced your lower lip with a sharp piece of dragonglass, then dug his thumb in the small wound and smeared its blood on your forehead, tracing the shape of a rune. You did the same to him. Next, each cut into your respective palms and joined them over a goblet while a priest explained that the mixing of blood signified becoming one with the other. You had to suppress a gag when made to take a sip, for it was plausible Yoongi’s blood was all kinds of diseased.
“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife.”
“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband.”
In the crowd, Hoseok turned his head away. He had not wanted to attend the ceremony—in fairness, neither had you or Yoongi—but your parents forced him. They were about the only people who could make him do anything anymore.
Ever since he’d bonded with the world’s oldest and fiercest dragon, nobody dared fuck with him, not even his older brother. That was why, when he caught some lords watching him turn away from the kiss, they immediately looked down in fear. Unfortunately, the rumours about the affair you were having with him being whispered at court weren’t so easily scared away, and you’d had to spend less time together in public so as not to spur them on.
Above the clouds, though, there were no witnesses.
That’s where Hoseok’s mind was during the feast, up in the sky.
You looked so beautiful in that white dress, with your soft, silver hair tied in a long braid that fell down your back, but he couldn’t stand seeing you sat at the end of the table next to Yoongi, who’d caused you both so much pain; kept bouncing his leg, playing with his food, giving curt answers to anyone who spoke to him… because the worst was yet to come.
Once the sun disappeared below the horizon, you’d be escorted to Yoongi’s chambers and deflowered.
He would get to be inside you.
Would he hurt you? Or would he… satisfy you? It was horrible, but Hoseok genuinely didn’t know which was worse. What kept him from deciding was the lively song that the musicians started playing, and everyone rushing to dance.
Your mother gave Yoongi a look at which he rolled his eyes. Dance with your bride, it commanded. Grudgingly, he held out a hand to you, who turned to your father with a pleading expression only to receive the same look. Dance with your groom. So with a sigh, you took Yoongi’s hand and followed him to the centre of the hall.
And Hoseok had to watch you dance with him just as your dragons had danced together in the air.
That was it for him. He quickly excused himself to your parents on the account of a headache and stormed off, pushing through the people who’d flocked to act as an audience to those dancing. He was about to go up the small steps leading to the entrance when someone grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Please, don’t go. I need you close.”
How you’d slipped out of the dance floor unnoticed, Hoseok didn’t know, but still, he freed himself from your grasp carefully so as not to hurt you, and whispered, “I can’t see you with him.”
“He means less than nothing to me, my love. And I to him.”
Hoseok knew that. Yet when he glanced down at the cut on your lip, he was reminded of the fact that you’d become of one flesh with another in such an intimate ceremony. It made his blood boil.
“I can’t take it, Y/N. I’m sorry.”
He walked away and left you there, having to face the rest of the day without him. Could you blame him, though? You’d react the same way, would’ve left ages ago... It was the gods whom you damned for making Yoongi the older brother.
✩ ✩ ✩
Past midnight, Hoseok couldn’t sleep.
It must’ve been what, a quarter since the bedding had begun? He wondered if you were still at it, plaguing flashes crossing his mind of your bare body under Yoongi’s. Were you moaning? Gripping the sheets? Begging for him to go harder? Disgusting. He couldn’t shake them away, every time he tossed and turned a new one surfacing among his thoughts. He was going to resort to pulling his hair to make them stop when his chambers’ door opened.
Hoseok sat up without delay, reaching for the blade under his pillow, but from the shadows it was you who emerged.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?”
There was some light, at least, that of the moon entering through the window, and it made something you carried shine. Hoseok got up from the bed and walked over, once he was close discerning the piece of dragonglass from the wedding in your hand.
“I’m right where I belong,” you declared. “With you.”
“It’s your wedding night. What of your husband?”
“He drowned in his wine cup at dinner. The second he lay on his bed, he was snoring… All the better.”
Hoseok pressed his lips together and sighed through his nose. “If it’s not tonight, it’ll be tomorrow.”
“But tomorrow, I’ll already be yours.” You raised the dragonglass and once more cut into your lip. It hurt as much as earlier, but this time you did it willingly. Hoseok frowned when you placed the piece on his lip. “I may be married to our brother by law, but I’m marrying you for love.”
He flinched at the cut. “But this means nothing to the world.”
“It does to us. And not only that, don’t you understand? After tonight, whatever children I have will be assumed to be Yoongi’s. The risk keeping our bodies apart is gone.” You drew the rune on Hoseok’s forehead with his blood, and on board, he did the same to you. “A goblet?” He ran to get one from his bedside table, gulped the wine inside it as he returned to your side. Soon, it was filled with the blood of both, emptied when each drank from it. “Targaryens are dragons, Hoseok. Fire made flesh. And once a dragon bonds with a rider, it is to the death. I bonded with you long ago.”
The moonlight made the tears forming in Hoseok’s eyes shine just as it had the dragonglass.
“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife.”
“With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husb–”
You hadn’t finished saying it when Hoseok smacked his lips on yours, impatient to make you his, make up for too many years of restraint[PG1] .
Neither therefore wasted a breath in taking off the other’s nightgown, and Hoseok swallowed hard when he saw your naked body for the first time since infancy, you almost feeling faint at the sight of his... Your brother was clearly a man grown now and as a woman, you couldn’t keep away any longer.
He let you drag him to the bed and have him lie over you, knees and elbows sunk at your sides, but did nothing more than admire your features with half-lidded eyes as if he didn’t share your hunger anymore. You tried to kiss him again, and he even pulled back.
“Lykirī,” he murmured in High Valyrian as a rider did to their dragon.
Be calm.
Much as he struggled to resist your tempting, Hoseok knew it’d be over sooner than hoped for if you lost yourselves to lust so early.
He placed a finger under your chin and raised it. “Dohaerās.”
Serve me.
Oh, he needn’t ask twice. Your fingers skimmed across his back and waist until reaching his hard erection, then curled around it to move up and down painfully slowly, at which Hoseok gulped. In part, you wanted him to wrap his own hand around your throat and order you to stop teasing, behave, but the excitement to please him betrayed your mischief.
Eyes locked with yours, a scorching sensation was building up in his core that spread through his body like wildfire the tighter you gripped, the faster you pumped, and he wanted to let go so badly… But the reward of coming inside you was a great incentive to find a distraction to focus on until then, such as his erratic breathing.
You felt it on your skin, hot like a dragon’s. It mingled with yours and scented the air with wine and desire, and seeing the latter reflected on your eyes made Hoseok’s tensed arms begin to shake out of weakness. You quickly caught up on it and so sat up, forcing him to do the same.
“Y/N, what–”
“Sh, my love…”
Hoseok didn’t know what you were up to until you bent over and took him in your mouth, sucking hard as your head bobbed up and down his length. Despite the stinging of your cut, you found yourself revelling in the feeling of his throbbing gliding against your lips and tongue, becoming wet enough to ease right between your legs.
“Ah, just like that…” Hoseok wondered if you could tell he was only just quelling the urge to pin your wrists over your head and pound you until sunrise, until it hurt for both—you could. It made you want to try harder to provoke him. At least, you were satisfied he was unable to contain the groan that followed when you took all of him in, the tip of his cock hitting against your throat a few times until you had to pull it out to cough. “Gods, Y/N…”
You laughed, rather embarrassed, “Gainly, I know…”
Hoseok smiled before he cupped your cheeks and led your lips coated with saliva and blood still to his. All flushed, you’d never looked prettier. “As I want you.”
The way he looked at you, so devotedly and without judgement, you felt no shame whispering in his ear, “How else do you want me?”
You could’ve sworn you caught Hoseok’s pupils engulf the purple of his irises as a nervous, low chuckle escaped him. It was always fun to entice him. He whispered back, “Lie on your back and spread your legs.”
You followed his command with eagerness, welcomed the pain in your wound when he leaned in to kiss you deeply, and your delight in turn sweetened his blood, driving you to suck on his lip. He did want to be consumed by you in any way, but a hiss forced him to pull away. The two of you couldn’t help but laugh, yet the butterflies returned with the first kiss of the trail that Hoseok began leaving all the way from your neck to your thighs, each marked with blood on your skin.
His breath hit against your maidenhood the second he hovered over it, making you shiver with anticipation, and seeing this he decided against torturing you any longer. While his hands groped your breasts as he knew you liked, Hoseok’s tongue delved between your wet folds until reaching your clit and licking it side to side without pause, occasionally straying downwards again to tease your entrance with his tip. You could barely keep still, squirming and bucking your hips into Hoseok’s face, moaning from behind the teeth sank like fangs into your bottom lip. He’d dreamed of making a feast out of your cunt for years, and now that he was finally tasting your juices, your pleasure, he realised the wait had been worth it.
“Keligon daor, valonqar…” he heard amongst your pants.
Don’t stop, brother.
But he was going to. He knew you needed more, and it was time he gave it to you.
The pressure of Hoseok’s tongue was straight away missed, but the tip of his cock replaced it after he’d got closer to kiss you again. It rubbed on your clit as a consequence of stroking himself, and with an exhale your head dropped on the pillow, your eyes closing.
Hoseok took the chance to gently push his erection through your entrance, earning a gasp he interrupted with a kiss. You would’ve smacked him for taking you off guard had he not started rolling his hips like that, moving in and out of you slowly so you could get used to the stretch. There had been a slight stinging but now it felt so nice that suddenly, all your brain could think of doing was wrapping your arms and legs around him to pull him closer.
“You want me deeper?” he whispered before nibbling on your earlobe. You had not the strength to answer, only whimper, but Hoseok understood. And burying himself inside you all the way in a few times, with the scant moonlight shimmering on his blood, sweat, and purple irises, you’d never been so attracted to him. “You’re so tight, I can’t believe it…”
“Hoseok… More, please,” you begged, and it was an order he was keen to obey.
Intertwining your hands, he started pounding you hard enough to send you into a daze similar to the one wine would heave you to, only, overflowing with desire. Hoseok grunted in the crook of your neck with every thrust and you moaned loudly in return, not caring whether all of King’s Landing would hear. There was no need to hold back anymore, not now that you were both so desperate to reach your high.
Soon enough, your walls did indeed begin to clench around Hoseok’s cock, which forced him to fuck you so fast that tears of pleasure formed in your eyes and you had to hold your breath as a heavenly sensation engulfed you whole. You didn’t return to your earthly body until Hoseok finished too, his warm seed filling you.
Afterwards, he kissed you softly and with your eyes closed, both remained still for a while.
“I love you, Y/N.” His tone told you that there should be no doubt of it, that he was there and not going anywhere. The corners of your lips curled into a smile.
“I love you too.”
You kissed his nose, then opened your eyes to see Hoseok already looking back at you, like nothing else in the world mattered more. His gaze wandered about your face, then fell on your mouth. He scoffed, “The court will be suspicious when they see my lip is sliced also.”
“Then let me kiss it better, brother.”
277 notes · View notes
theshelbyclan · 1 year
Text
A Sisterly Bond
Summary: Ada and Teddy don’t have much in common, but that doesn’t mean that they couldn’t make a good team
Tumblr media
A/N: I just felt like writing again, and for Ada and Teddy in particular. I always imagine as getting on better and better as Teddy gets older. She’s still young in this one, so it’s a rocky relationship still 😂 anyways, hope you enjoy to whoever still is reading my stuff!
Words: 2630
*****
“Teddy, would you be so kind as to give me my coat?”
“No.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Ada sighed, “why do you always have to be difficult?”
“Am not,” Teddy grumbled.” I just don’t see why I have to be your lady’s maid, just because you’re my sister.”
“Ooh, there’s a big word!” the older sister replied sarcastically.
“Tommy says all fancy rich ladies have a lady’s maid.”
“ ‘Tommy says’…” Ada rolled her eyes and Teddy stuck out her tongue at her.
In many ways, Ada and Teddy were nothing alike. There was the age gap, of course, but they also just seemed to have very little in common. Ada didn’t care much for family business, while Teddy wanted to know everything about everything. Ada tried her best to live her own life without her brothers interfering at every turn, whereas Teddy wanted to be like her brothers in every way. Ada made an effort to never care too much, unlike Teddy, who cared almost too much and didn’t have a problem showing it. Also, Ada wanted to go out in her fancy coat and high heels, and Teddy wanted to run free in her brother’s trousers and shirt.
Polly watched the two sisters and followed Teddy with her eyes as she stormed out the door in a huff. She then turned to Ada and said, “Would it kill you to just say a kind word to her every now and then?”
Ada had her nose back in the papers and shrugged, “I don’t know, Pol. Would it kill her to practise some good manners?”
“You know what she’s like.”
“Oh, I do,” she sighed, “I remember when she was born and you told me how nice it would be for me to have another girl in the family. Instead we got… Teddy.”
———
Nine-year-old Teddy Shelby was walking through the muddy streets and pretended she was a pirate. With a stick in hand, she fought off the assailants only she could see and shouted out battle cries. But in the chaos of Small Heath, no one really noticed her. And if they did, they simply thought: there goes Teddy Shelby…
Her playing was suddenly interrupted though by her youngest brother. “Aunt Polly says she wants you to go with Ada!” Finn shouted out, as he ran towards her.
“Why?” she sighed, exasperated.
“I don’t know. She needs help carrying things from the market?”
Teddy kicked a rock, “Can’t you do it?”
Finn shrugged again, “It’s a woman’s job, isn’t it.”
“Oh fuck off!” As Finn pouted a little, she added, “Please can you go? Ada doesn’t even like me…”
If there was one thing Finn couldn’t stand, it was seeing his little sister upset, so he agreed. “You know, Arthur is always with John. Ada likes me, but you’re Tommy’s favourite.”
“I know.”
“So it’s not that bad, right?” Finn tried hopefully.
“I suppose not.” But Teddy couldn’t help but feel a little sadness over it.
———
“Aunt Pol says I’m to get you ready for church.”
“I am ready,” Teddy motioned to her dress, which she hated so intensely.
Ada sighed, “What have you done to your knees now? They look like you’ve become the chimney sweep’s latest apprentice.”
“Why do you always have to badger me?” Teddy called out, full of frustration.
“Just… clean your knees before Polly sees,” she waved a hand and put on a hat.
Teddy started scrubbing furiously as her legs. Ada watched her and decided that maybe she should make an effort. So she asked, “What do you think of this hat? Does is suit me?”
“I don’t know,” the little girl shrugged, “it stays on so I’m guessing it fits your head?”
“Bloody hell, I don’t know why I even bother. Let’s go.”
———
In the late afternoon sun, Tommy was talking to a man about a horse. Next to him, a small girl was following the conversation intensely, trying to learn as much from the interaction as she could.
“I’ll give you four for her, but no more.”
“Can’t do less than six, mister Shelby,” the man slapped her brother’s hand, “She’s a good horse, that one. Strong.”
“She’s no war horse and I could have fucking five of her for that price. Four and a half.”
“I have a family to feed, sir. Five?”
Tommy shook his hand and that was that.
After he’d left, Teddy looked up and, like she’d been in the business for twenty years, said, “She’s worth at least ten, Tommy.”
“Is she?” he took a drag on his cigarette, but inside felt like he could burst with pride. Then he lifted Teddy up and planted her up onto the horse, “Go on, tell me what she’s like.”
As Teddy rode around the yard, Ada joined her brother. With her usual air of indifference, she commented, “Well, if it isn’t the big brother and his pride and joy.”
“Hello, Ada…”
“Did she persuade you into spending more money once again?”
“Look at her,” Tommy pointed, “She might be the best rider in all of Small Heath.”
Ada raised her eyebrows and mumbled, “High praise…” In truth, Ada was impressed. She’d always been the odd one out in the family when it came to horses. She never much cared for them and riding them had always been more of a chore than a pleasure.
“Why don’t you tell her how good she looks up on that horse, eh?”
“Me? Why the hell would I tell her?”
Tommy locked eyes with Ada, “Because it’s you she wants to hear it from.”
She laughed a little at that, “No, Tommy, it’s you she wants to hear it from. Everything she wants to hear from you.”
As Ada walked off again, Tommy called after her, “She is your only sister, Ada.”
“And what a joy she is,” but it didn’t come out that sarcastic this time.
After a few more minutes or riding, Teddy hopped down from the horse again. Her brother asked her some questions about the horse and she answered to the best of her abilities. But in between, Teddy carefully asked, “Was that Ada?”
“Yes, just on her way home from the Bullring.”
“Did she watch me ride?” Teddy asked in a small voice.
Tommy observed her for a second, “Now, why do you ask that?”
She shrugged her shoulders and turned away to brush off the horse, “Just curious.”
———
Polly was a modern woman in many ways, but not in every way. She might’ve even been insulted if you called her that. So, when it was time for the spring cleaning of the house, she asked the girls to help. Well, she didn’t really ask.
“Ada, you start on sweeping and Teddy you can follow her with the bucket.”
Both girls rolled their eyes so hard it had to hurt and Polly couldn’t help but notice how in those few seconds, they looked exactly alike.
“I’ll be in the back with the washing,” their aunt continued, leaving no room for arguments.
Cigarette in hand, Ada started sweeping the floors at her own leisurely pace.
“Hurry up, will you?” Teddy grumbled, “I have to wait on you to mop and I do have other things to do, you know.”
“Oh? And what important appointments might you have, you strange little idiot?”
“Don’t call me an idiot!” Teddy stomped down het foot, “and hurry the fuck up!”
“Swear again and I’ll give you a slap!”
“Go on then!”
Ada huffed and swung her broom, aiming for her annoying sister. Teddy ducked and laughed, “You’re too slow.”
“Teddy…” she sighed, “I don’t want to do this either and I don’t have the energy to fight you as well. Just shut up and get this done.”
“Fine. Go on then, work, unless you’re afraid you’ll break a fucking nail or something.”
That earned Teddy a firm smack around the head. Angrily, she picked up her bucket and threw its contents in Ada’s direction, instantly soaking her sister.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!”
Aunt Polly came barging in the house after hearing Ada scream. Inside, she found a furious Teddy with one red cheek and an even more furious Ada, completely wet and dripping.
“I left you two alone for five fucking minutes,” she glared daggers, “and you can’t even behave for that long?”
Ada seemed to have found her composure again and grabbed another, dry, cigarette. “That’s what happens when you leave me with an actual fucking savage, Pol.”
“It’s not my fault! She started it!” Teddy fumed, “She called me an idiot and she does that all the time because she hates me!”
“Jesus Christ,” Polly lit a cigarette of her own, “Ada, go get changed and then you can continue the work outside. Teddy, you take over the sweeping. Probably my own fucking fault for thinking you could get along for half a day…”
With all the dignity she could muster in a soaked dress, Ada stalked off. Teddy picked up the broom and tried to avoid Polly’s eyes.
“I’ll have a word with her,” Polly said eventually, not without sympathy.
“Which is more than I’ll ever fucking have again,” Teddy spit.
“God,” Polly whispered to herself, “Why did you have to make them both so fucking stubborn?”
———
It was the evening after pay day, so all the pubs in Small Heath were filled to the brim. Normally, they didn’t serve women on their own, but Ada Shelby was the exception to the rule. Harry wouldn’t dare to refuse her.
“Here you go, Miss Shelby,” he said, as he handed her a drink.
She took it gratefully and went to sit down. The truth was, she was hoping to catch a glimpse of Freddie Thorne, but he hadn’t been in yet.
After fifteen minutes, she wanted another one and made her way over to the bar again. But the place was packed and it took too long for her liking. So, Ada went behind the bar and poured her own drink. Teddy watched her and smirked slightly. Deep down, she did admire her sister, simply because she wasn’t impressed by anything or anyone really.
At the same time, an older gentlemen strolled into the Garrison. He was dressed differently, looked like money, and had the confidence to match. Short as he was, he made up for it in attitude. Teddy didn’t know him and eyed him carefully.
Then he spotted Ada and made his way over. Leaning on the bar, he started talking to her, but Teddy couldn’t hear. She stood up and walked a little closer, while remaining invisible in the crowd.
“Come on, sweetheart, pretty girl like you all alone without a man?”
“Who says I am?” Ada shrugged, and Teddy could tell she was uncomfortable.
He smiled at her without humour, “How about I take you for a good time. You don’t want to be difficult, do you?”
Teddy frowned and felt the urge to spit at him. But instead she noticed how he was standing up on the little ledge of the bar, just a few inches off the ground. Cockily, he balanced on one leg, presumably to make up for the inches he lacked.
So the little girl grinned and just as he was telling Ada about all the things he had and could offer her, Teddy walked up to him and kicked him in the back of his knees. At once, he lost his balance and his legs buckled. And in one swift motion, he collapsed onto the bar and then fell flat on his arse.
The pub erupted in laughter.
Teddy joined in, but only got to celebrate her triumph for a few seconds. The man became furious and grabbed her, raising his hand to strike her. But before he could, Ada had grabbed a bottle and smashed it over his head. Afterwards, she calmly brushed the glass off her own coat and bit, “Now, piss off.”
“Yeah!” Teddy added, “Piss off!”
Ada looked down at her and grabbed her hand. She didn’t feel like waiting for what was to happen next, so she marched her little sister out of the pub.
Outside, neither said a word for a long time. Eventually, Ada was the first one to speak, “Would you mind explain what the bloody hell that was?”
Teddy shrugged, a little winded from having to run after Ada in her four inch heels, “I thought he was a bad man, so I didn’t want him to talk to you.”
Ada looked down at her strange little sister and felt a sudden surge of love for her, “He was a bad man. And I didn’t want him to talk to me.”
“Why?”
“Teddy… there are some good men out there…”
“Are there?”
“…but most of them are just bastards.”
Teddy pondered on that for a second, “How do you know which one is the not-bastard?”
Ada smiled, “Well, apparently, you already do. This one was not one of them.”
“So, you’re not mad at me for kicking him?” She tried carefully.
“Mad?” She laughed, “I thought it was bloody brilliant!”
Teddy smiled back up at Ada, beaming with pride.
“Thank you, Teddy, because for a moment, I did get scared.”
“I can come with you all the time, if you like!” her little sister quipped happily, “Keep watch for you?”
“That won’t be necessary, sweetheart, but I appreciate the offer.”
Casting her eyes down again, “Yeah, I know you don’t want me around…”
And quite abruptly, Ada stopped her in the streets, “Now wait a second, you strange little…” she quickly swallowed her words, “Teddy. Just because I don’t always like you, doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Do you understand?”
“No. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe not,” Ada marched on again and Teddy once again struggled to keep up, “but it will as soon as you find your own not-bastard!”
Teddy looked a little too pensive for Ada’s liking, so she said in her version of being comforting, “I’ll look out for you too and kick any man that gets to close, don’t worry.”
“What happened to you two?” Polly demanded, as her two nieces walked through the door.
“Nothing,” they both replied in unison.
Thomas looked from one to the other, “Tell me what happened.”
“We told you, Thomas, nothing happened,” Ada replied airily, while taking off her gloves.
“Teddy, you fucking tell me now.”
But even Teddy didn’t crumble under her brother’s piercing eyes this time. Instead, she looked up to Ada and said, “It’s nothing, Tommy. Just women’s business. Nothing for you to worry about.” She was now directly quoting her other female role model and Polly had no choice but to bend her head to hide her smile.
Ada smiled back at Teddy and left the room, with her little sister in tow.
“What the fuck was that?” Tommy sighed.
Polly replied, not without some smugness, “I believe that was a sisterly bond in action.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Yes.”
“Fucking hell,” he breathed, as he lit another cigarette.
Polly turned around to continue her work, “You’re outnumbered now, Thomas!”
Tommy tried to make a dismissive hand gesture, “There’s four of us, only two of them.”
“Yes, but they’re women, sweetheart, and women count for at least two men. Besides, they’re together now.”
This was all too much for the great leader of the Peaky Blinders to understand. There were some things, ‘women’s business’ as Teddy so elegantly had put it, that he tried to steer clear of. Still, he felt a pang of sadness over his little sister growing up. Maybe he was losing her.
“You won’t,” his aunt read his mind, “but you can’t protect her forever either.”
“If I can’t, who will?”
Polly smiled gently, “We will.”
*****
Masterlist
338 notes · View notes
Text
Matryoshka
Tumblr media
The television buzzed with the chatter of a telenovela. A woman sobbing at the betrayal of her husband, comforted by her maid. Their hands together, laced fingers. Leaned on each other.
Frank had never watched this, but Grant had. Frank could feel the context of it, like a ghost on his thoughts. Grant was so invested in these two, Mia and Jolene, evolving from the sisterly bond and bouts of being pitted against each other to becoming lovers entwined with each other. A bond that resisted every crazy twist the came to them.
Frank romanticized them because Grant did. His love for these characters leaking past the layers that separated them, making Frank almost want to keep watching the program instead of what they always did every night.
Soap operas didn’t beat out beating out though.
Frank turned off the flatscreen just as the two women transitioned from grief to passion. Grant almost resisted Frank shutting it off, fighting his finger pressing the off button. Frank was sure the guy loved this part, just as any. Frank was in control though and Grant would like it.
It was an act they played out every night. All five of them letting Grant fixate on the program after his shift, waiting till one of them got horny enough to tear Frank’s eyes from the scene. Frank inevitably wrenching back control from grumpy little Grant and his tv.
“It was just getting good Frank”, Frank’s mouth whined. It was always just getting good though. Frank felt more arguments rise up in his throat. Andre was too quick though, and Frank felt that muscular arm beneath his skin move to stroke their dick through their camouflage pants.
It was like electricity, just that barest touch. Feeling the rough fabric shift the skin of their outmost shell. Franks dick rubbing against the four others within it. Feeling the center most core of them, Finn’s arousal filling out the hollow shells of the others. The fact that it was Finn at the bottom of it all. Frank loved that fact to his core. His core that was Finn.
It would probably help to explain the situation a bit. They hadn’t always had this arrangement. Together in Matryoshka.
Three months ago they had been nothing but five men stuck together in community service. All serving their various sentences for minor infractions. Tyson there for public intoxication, having passed out drunk in a park. Grant having accidentally punched a cop in some bar fight. Andre having purposefully punched that cop in that same bar fight. Finn and Frank punished together for multiple causes of shoplifting.
Each left to clean up the street trash, sorting through the refuse for whatever could be recycled and the vast majority that would end up in another dump. Working together for their allotted sentences, enough time for them to have bonded just a little bit.
Enough time so that when they found that doll, it hadn’t even been that awkward.
Finn had found it. A buried wooden toy beneath a rotting burger. Blank oak that appeared to resist whatever disgusting gutter fluid touched it, spotless and finely stained. Inert as Finn called them over, showing off the cylindrical object to their little crew to speculate to what it was.
Andre had thought it was a sex toy. Frank had believed it to be a broken bedframe. Tyson just said it would go to the recycling pile. Grant didn’t care.
They got their answer when Finn opened it.
None of them really remembered it except for Finn, although he could recount it to enough detail for it to be vivid in all of their minds.
He’d come to consciousness with a component of the doll in his hand. The rest of its components scattered about him. They were painted now, immediately recognizable in their form. A finely detailed matryoshka doll, in pieces on the floor. The outer half of the largest layer in his hands, a face stylized on it’s wooden surface.
Finn could recognize Frank’s rugged smile anywhere. They’d spent too much time with each other for his smile not to be firmly sunk into his mind. Rougish and masculine, the essence of everything that Fin had wanted.
He recognized the other pieces laid by his body. Andre’s light chocolate skin and serious frown, carved deep into a slightly smaller shell. Tyson’s angsty visage emblazoned in ebony wood, nesting within it Finn’s own face. Both halves of Grant’s doll looking like they would fit perfectly above Tyson’s and perfectly below Andre’s.
Finn had felt naked and panicked in that loneliness. He hadn’t heard any of his crew, really anything at all. Completely silent on the desolate street, leaving him to feel how strangely vulnerable his skin felt. Like someone had stripped him of it, leaving his flesh and bones bared to the world. His thick clothes still bound over him, unable to prevent him from feeling so cold.
Shifting up to sit on the icy ground, Finn could see why the conversations had died. It was inexplicable to see them. Empty clothes of his companions scattered about, except for the thin fleshy things within them.
Tyson’s remains were the closest to him. His punk leather jacket over a faded band Tee. Black jeans just beneath, next to his waterproof boots. All covering a deflated husk with the same skin as Tyson.
Finn hadn’t known why he hadn’t been revulsed at the sight of it. The seemingly skinned body of his friend. Unmarred as if the crazy person who’d done it had managed to remove the entire flesh without a single cut. The empty skin still perfect as if some master taxidermist could mount it into a perfect facsimile of the depressed man
Finn had no justification for the others on how he’d gotten from point A to point B. One moment he’d been transfixed at the anomalous site and the next he’d kicked off his shoes and thrown off his outermost clothes. He’d explained that it just felt less disgusting at the time, as they’d all been stepping in garbage. He hadn’t wanted to get that in Tyson’s mouth.
Finn had felt like he was in a trance, pulling up Tyson’s husk and fitting his foot into its mouth. He’d expected it to resist and it had in a sense. He could feel his clothed leg travel past a smooth warm inside. It was like putting on coveralls, feeling for the place that his leg would fit.
He’d put his other leg inside as he lifted the stretched-out mouth up to his waist. Felt his socks pass through the shapes of legs and meet the ground. Felt some part of them slot into place, able to feel both his feet and the feet currently wearing Tyson’s shiny black boots.
It was a bizarre sensation, feeling two pairs of pants and socks against his skin. Fractally having two pairs of legs in the same position, feeling the sensation of the innermost against the inside of the other. Feeling the sensation of his own jeans under his newest layer of skin. Tyson’s skin.
Finn pulled up the discarded shell up further and their waists slotted together.
For the first time in Finn’s life, he could feel what it was like having the thing beneath his jeans. That appendage that translated the arousal he’d felt into a hard awkward abject beneath Tyson’s briefs. The sensation of it being there nearly bit through the trance in the sheer exhilaration that Finn had for it. Years of his life wishing that he could feel at home in his body realized in some fucked up amazing dream as he donned the body of his crew member.
Finn had pushed his hand into Tyson’s empty counterpart like a glove so that he could grip it through Tyson’s black jeans. Finally feel the thing that he’d fantasized on every night, wishing that he could be like Frank.
A dick felt good. Solid and firm as it tented his jeans despite the tight briefs. His other less dominant hand found its way into Tyson’s other hand and began to guide up the rest of the skin up his neck. Stroking his dick felt better as the layers of fabric and skin inside him rubbed up against his whole body.
Some instinct guided Finn to let his face sunk down beneath Tyson’s. At that moment, Finn wasn’t alone.
Tyson had quickly glanced down at his puppeted hand as Finn fought him. Tyson hadn’t had much explanation after the fact for what he also did. Still stroking himself even as they wet their pants, Finn and Tyson together. Tyson explained the feeling of coming to awareness, one that each of the shells knew all to well.
A personality slotting over Finn’s brain and piggybacking off of it to become conscious. Feeling that sudden overwhelming urge of his desires and becoming entranced in that same thing guiding Finn.
Tyson had immediately jogged over to where Grant’s body laid. Finn had intended to as well, some sort of their shared synapses allowing them to seamlessly guide themselves over. Tyson too overwhelmed by the overpowering need to fit Grant over him to kick of his shoes as he shoved them down Grant’s throat. Feeling his boots fit into Grant’s feet, paradoxically feeling each of them just as Finn had. Wiggling his toes and feeling three of them do the same. Pulling up Grant’s lightly tanned skin over his own, feeling his body hair poke into the man’s skin from beneath.
Flexing his hand and feeling Finn beneath his doing the same. Either man unable to really feel who had intended the action, synchronous in their curiosity.
When Grant came to awareness he had panicked. Somehow that had made his own quick orgasm even better, as the two men beneath him cheat their own refractory period by enjoying Grant’s own full balls. Guiding Grant as his mind panicked into enjoying whatever strange dream they were all in as he too poured cum into his boxers, feeling the other wet underwear compounding beneath his skin.
He rolled on the balls of his feet as he stood, feeling the hard surface of Tyson’s boots under his skin, pushing down on his own rubber boots. Feeling the leather of Tyson’s jacket squeeze against his own muscle fibers. Feeling oddly uncomfortable, yet good in its strangeness. Wobbly as he stood as he realized he had been stretched by Tyson, now at least a foot taller.
Grant was halfway into murmuring some medical theories before the men beneath his skin guided him over to where Andre, Tyson taking the lead in his familiarity with such a sized body.
Andre was easy to shrug on. Grant had protested for a second, the only of them horrified by the process. Finn and Tyson hadn’t cared, feeling a hunger for “just another”. It was surely felt by Grant as well, but he’d always been more vocally responsible and logical than the rest of them.
Grants protests didn’t stop him from clearly enjoying covering his skin with Andre’s. He’d almost argued to pull off his dirty clothes before doing so, but they were three far too impatient.
Andre came into awareness with the feeling of the three men beneath him and an odd impartiality to it all. He let his three fellows use his dick to feel another release, but he hadn’t really cared. He was straight unlike the others, but didn’t mind the pleasant feeling of their arousal under his.
Andre was ecstatic about the other things he’d explained later. The other changes rather than just their shared flesh. His dick so much noticeably larger than it was before, stretched out from Grant’s impressive size. Andre’s body raised to the height of Tyson.
Andre loved being a man, a fact that he had sympathized with Finn time and time again. They’d gotten close over their community service, Andre always happy to guide the man into the experience of masculinity. Of being a gym rat, big and strong.
They both been so self-conscious about their own bodies. Andre was shorter than he’d always wanted and Finn always being a hundred steps behind what society expected a man to be. Always coming short to their own internalized expectations.
Andre had grinned at the feeling of Finn sharing in their combined body. Working together in unision to achieve a goal they’d set together.
The last shell they needed had been Frank’s on that sunny evening.
Frank had been the leader of their little troupe. He was some army cadet turned stoner, self-medicating with all sorts of vices. Yet he was never out of control, always holding himself with a self-control and confidence that far outpaced the others. He was a man that they were all envious of, a figure so strong in his self-identity and image that they all wished they could be the same.
To Andre, Frank was that idealized masculinity. Not the kind that Andre always felt victim to. A self-assured type of masculinity, happy in mind and body. A man that did what he wanted without the integrated idea of what a man was tainting his actions.
To Grant, Frank was realer than him. Not bogged down by years of medical school to be what his parents wanted. Frank could be broken in his own little ways without that twisted façade that Grant relied on to hide his own fracture. Frank went to therapy and didn’t lie about being happy the his therapist.
To Tyson, Frank was freer than him. Frank could use his vices without being controlled by them. They were fun escapes and not a pressing need clouding his mind. Frank was unburdened by an addictive mind and Tyson wished everyday that he could carve it out and fit it into his skull.
To Finn, Frank was the only stable person in his life. They’d both been in pieces when they’d found each other and they were the only reasons they remained whole. They were partners in crime. Frank was Finn’s favorite person and they’d always dreamed of being able to melt together, mending themselves with parts of each other.
They all were unified in completing themselves, shrugging themselves into the being of Frank. Feeling his personality slot over their collective skulls.
Frank had grinned then as he felt them at home beneath his skin, feeling five times himself than he had before.
Now Frank was happy to jack off as they sat at home.
They all lived their lives separately during the day. Mornings began with Andre pulling himself out of Frank, then Grant pulling himself out of Andre. Tyson would often remain in Grant as Finn pulled himself out of them, Tyson apparently having a knack for the medical sciences. Frank also believed they were just far too codependent with each other to really part, which was rich considering they were completely codependent. Frank didn’t complain about seeing Grant adopt Tyson’s style though, clade in a far too attractive mix of leather and torn clothes
They couldn’t exist without each other. The four shells couldn’t drink or eat without assembling in order and Finn got weaker without the four. Inevitably they would fall back into each other after a days’ worth of work, leaving Frank to enjoy himself.
They weren’t complaining. Frank enjoyed this new combined existence. He loved the feeling of Finn being with him in body and spirit. Loved touching himself and knowing that he was touching Finn. He liked teasing the other men inside of him alongside Finn, opening up their weird little relationship to the rest of them.
They would spend their nights alone as Frank or in various states of being in each other’s bodies. Somedays Frank would fuck his Finn with the rest of his crew behind him or sometimes Finn would do the same to him. Often times they’d let Andre have the run of the place, experiencing what it was like to enjoying sex with a woman.
Frank most enjoyed coming home. He’d work his shift at the bar and come home tense. He was always last, coming home to a naked sweaty Andre. Fresh from the gym and fresh from having been pulled onto the combined men beneath him. Frank wouldn’t even bee given a moment before he was grabbed from the front door and pulled on like a warm jacket in the cold. He didn’t mind.
They’d eat their dinner together and they’d trade off what they wanted to do. They’d always end up watching Grant’s dumb shows and Frank would inevitably begin to jack off.
He was still their leader. He felt Tyson’s cock fill Grants and then fill Andre’s in turn. It would reach him, feeling even better than the first time they’d done so as it fit perfectly, without clothes to get in the way. It felt so much better for everything to slot in in that way, legs and hands slotted like puzzle pieces without gloves or jeans to dull the feeling of their skin against each other.
When he stroked his dick, it felt like it was being stroked four times over. He felt his nerves alight as the sensation was multiplied, aided further by the feeling of being touched from within his own dick. It wasn’t really like jacking off either. His hand was barely his, guided in turn by four other men in a rhythm that wasn’t his. He was both dominant in this circumstance yet not. He felt the familiar touch of Finn, knowing exactly how Frank liked it.
Frank could feel when each of them cummed, his dick spilling out the respective semen as each man eventually gave out under the ride. First Grant, then Andre, then Tyson, then Frank and finally Finn.
He’d then let Finn have the body as they cleaned up. They’d sometimes separate to shower, less so to be clean but just for the enjoyment of showering with another person. Frank would inevitably feel himself up in the mirror, complimenting the work Andre had put into their body. Whatever muscle Andre had was Frank’s in turn and seeing it on Frank made Andre feel a little less wholey straight every day.
If it was a Friday night, Frank would line out his clothes for the next day and enjoy his guys argue about the outfit they’d wear. They’d go to the beach or something, enjoying feeling out their unified selves in the warm air. They’d go to the bar and hit on guys and girls, somehow acting as their own wingmen. Maybe throwing up one of them as an actual wingman if the night demanded it.
Frank would relax as he sat back on their bed, squirming into the comfortable blankets as the warmth of five men coursed through his body. They’d say good night to each other, every person ringing out the same little phrase in Frank’s voice. All the benefits of sleeping alone with other people, to be embraced but to get the whole bed.
Frank was happy this was his life now. He could feel Finn wrap his arms around his body and fell asleep in bliss. Just like very other night.
106 notes · View notes
kerubimcrepin · 2 months
Text
Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 3]
+ Joris analysis
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Since Simone left, it seems that Kerubim has gotten back into his habit of having weird, sloped bookshelves that look like they are going to kill someone someday.
Also, there are more deadly possessed demon swords everywhere.
Tumblr media
VAX
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
So real.
Tumblr media
I think a lot about how aggressively chill Kerubim is about Joris constantly going on and on about his birth parents.
You just know that on the inside he was seething. Just a constant mantra of "it's natural at this age, it's natural at this age," inside his head as he tried to be supportive. While Joris was trying to guess who his dad was, Kerubim was going through an IRL psychological horror game where he would die if he stopped thinking good thoughts.
While I am putting this in my usual funny meme terms, I am enamoured by the messy and uneven nature of Kerubim and Joris's father-son relationship. There's nothing particularly special or unique about the way it hurts them, — but the immortality and fantasy elements really let the usual hurting of a parent-child bond shine. It's all about romanticising the mundane to me.
Tumblr media
I think it shows an interesting disconnect that Lilotte won't call Kerubim "papycha" (and the way, later on in the movie, she does). She doesn't entirely feel like she fits in between Joris and Kerubim, and the dynamic the two have, — which is understandable, because she really doesn't, in my opinion. It's not a bad thing. She and Joris aren't exactly siblings, and Kerubim isn't her dad, — he's a caring adult. It doesn't mean they aren't a family to her, but it does mean she feels awkward. Her dead family, and fear of losing people, aren't exactly helping.
Here's my analysis of the situation:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
From Lilotte's POV, as I've already said it, there is a disconnect from the bond she feels with Kerubim and Joris, and the bond those two have, — as well as how untraumatized Joris is about the whole orphan thing. She doesn't want to get too used to this because this can always end, — and likely, she doesn't want to be forced into a fully familial role, because she doesn't feel that way about Kerubim and Joris.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
From Kerubim's POV, she is an orphan, just like himself and Joris, and he needs to help her any way he can. He'd like it if she lived with them, — instead of living out in the streets, without the safety of the roof over her head. He wants her to feel at home, and become a part of the family, but doesn't have any delusions about "adopting" her as if she were his daughter (his definition of family includes a maid he met 20 minutes prior, a mortal enemy, and a brother who wants him dead, mind you). She's far too old, and she does have a family, even if it is a dead one, while he is perfectly happy with just Joris as his son. Basically, he just wants her to be happy, warm, and fed, but understands that she has her reasons to be wary, and will not overstep her boundaries.
This all is easy enough to imagine or deduce through what we know about their characters. But Joris is a bit more complex, because even as a child, he is kinda emotionally closed-off. So, this following thing is mostly delusion, throwing darts at the wall while blindfolded, and me just straight up hallucinating:
Tumblr media
In my opinion, Joris is not happy about anything that is happening. He needs consistency and stability, and, as a single child of a single parent, he probably feels a certain degree of ownership towards Kerubim. It's likely that he feels jealous, like Lilotte's presence is threatening.
He isn't feeling these things consciously. He doesn't know he is jealous, or that he feels threatened by her presence. A childhood of unknowingly putting Kerubim's emotional needs before his own for the sake of their survival had divorced him completely from his own feelings.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
But it does show in the little, subconscious gestures, like fighting with her, or making fun of her, — especially his complete silence on the issue of wanting or not wanting her to move in with them, and the happy reaction he has to her confirming, once again, that she will not live with them. (As well as the way he switches the topic immediately to himself, before Kerubim can attempt to console her about the dead family issue).
Joris tries really hard not to have opinions on things he doesn't like, especially about himself and his feelings.
Tumblr media
It's interesting that Joris needs reassurance here. What we just saw is Kerubim making a grand gesture (a huge, elaborate breakfast) and a plea towards Lilotte, out of his care for her, and immediately, Joris is trying to usurp his attention with a question of whether Kerubim is going to give him a grand gesture too.
And it's not the first time he's asking! (Also yes, I noticed Lou. I was just too busy typing analysis to point her out)
Tumblr media
For a huge part of his childhood, Kerubim neglected him badly (and himself too, the man had clinical depression), so Joris's anxiety and subconscious jealousy is pretty logical.
Tumblr media
Suddenly, despite being his literal father, Kerubim is putting in more effort in caring for Joris's friend than he ever did with Joris himself, y'know?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
AND not to mention, how Kerubim usually keeps his promises (he doesn't, but Joris is used to it.)
Tumblr media
Anyway, the cover says "Brocante". Other text, I am not sure.
31 notes · View notes
fl3shm4id3n · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝕭𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝕬𝖑𝖎𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕳𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓
Tw: child neglect, second child syndrome? underage drinking, medieval shit, mentions of brothels, taverns, drunk reader and Aegon, poor Aemond getting traumatized mentioned. Aegon bonding with reader. Some angst. Platonic
Author’s note: I wanted to do a headcanon of the stuff before the evens of the story. Some stuff may be repeated. 
Your mother had no use of you, plain and simple, he had never had any kind of affection towards you like she did Helaena and Aemond. You were born a year after Aemond, making you a year younger than him, but as soon as you were out of the womb, you were taken care of by the maids. 
One time that your mother had tried to care for you, you cried, and cried until you were in the arms of a nanny. You had no love for your mother due to her neglect.
When you grew older, you were never comfortable being near your mother, when she was in the room everything would just feel odd. Though she never paid no mind to you. You always hung around the Velaryon boys.
They actually were nice and kind to you, Alicent had told you to stay away from them but you didn’t listen, you never listened. Then you began to cause trouble, always playing pranks with your nephews along with your older brother Aegon sometimes.
You and Aegon had grown a bond, you both were disliked by your mother, you were both often together playing games of some kind. 
Then when he has grown of age he began to drink wine, he had grown addicted to the bitter liquid, he decided to share this with you.
He took you to a Tavern on one of your names day, you were young and had no clue of what was happening at the time. Then you gave you ale, you didn’t want to try it at first but got convinced by his please, then you drank it. It was strong and bitter but you loved it.
You both began to drink loads of ale that night, then you popped the question on why he drinks so much, then he admitted that he drinks to forget as well as to be happy. Since you had craved on feeling happy, you also began to drank like he did.
It was some kind of pass time you both did together, drink wine all day long and get shit faced. Of course you both got in trouble for being drunk during one family dinner, but did you care? nope
You both got older, one night Aegon had invited Aemond to one of your nightly strolls to the tavern. You both drank while your other brother looked displeased. 
While you were in the Inn you had bought for the night, Aegon took Aemond to the Street of Silk to make him a “real” man. When you got back to the castle, your mother was mad, you a princess left the castle late at night, and came back with a hangover. 
She scolded you but you did not listen to one word she said.
You spent most of your time with Jace, you developed a crush on him, you also wished that you could one day get betrothed to him, but since your mother basically drew your sister and children away, it never happened.
You began to drink even more than your body should handle, then the day of the funeral happen, you saw them again along with your cousins, you gave them your condolences for the loss of their mother. You may have your mother but she wasn’t motherly towards you.
The thing that envied you was that your nephews mother, you older sister Rhaenyra, actually showed that she loved and cared for her children.
Meanwhile Alicent basically used your siblings as game pieces, while you were just a spare piece to use later.
When Aemond lost his eye, you weren’t present, you had got drunk to the point of passing out in your bed chamber.
The next morn that you had found out about his eye, you just like “oops, oh well” you didn’t put too much care into it since he already had mother’s attention. 
The older you got, the more you hung out with Aegon, you both would sneak out and go to the tavern to drink until the next morn, he also tried to get you to lay with someone to loose your maidenhead to but you refused.
You had some kind of hope into getting married by love and giving your husband your maidenhead.
When Aegon began to cut his hair, you would too, but yours was much more shorter than his, almost like a boy’s. You also began to show a bit more skin then you should, you began to wear dresses that showed your chest and shoulders.
Your mother hated it but you continued to dress that way. You also only wore red and black since you were a Targaryen and not a Hightower.
You continued being reckless and not caring about what others say about you. Some had spread a rumor that you were actually Daemon’s child and were given to Alicent or whatever. 
256 notes · View notes
fanficapologist · 5 months
Text
Of Dragons and Maelstroms
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Tumblr media
Chapter Fifty-Six
After two days, the man known as Blood was captured, the head of little Jaehaerys in his satchel, yet there was no joy in this victory, for the air in the Red Keep and throughout King’s Landing remained heavy with grief and fear. The city itself seemed to shudder under the weight of the tragedy, and the news had spread like wildfire among the common people.
In the Red Keep, the once bustling halls echoed with a somber silence, the shadow of the heinous act looming over every corner. Maera, too, found herself entangled in a web of conflicting emotions. The reality of the horror that had unfolded left her grappling with a fear for the future, a fear that clung to her like a persistent specter. The atmosphere in the city mirrored the gloom within the castle walls. The streets whispered with the shared sorrow of the people, creating an eerie symphony of mourning.
Lord Otto Hightower's suggestion of placing Jaehaerys's body in the Sept for seven days, allowing both nobles and commoners to pay their respects, carried an undertone of political maneuvering. Maera couldn't shake the ambiguity surrounding the decision – was it a genuine desire to let the people mourn with House Targaryen, or a calculated move to publicly shame and condemn Rhaenyra's actions, further pushing the agenda that Aegon was indeed the rightful King?
The thought of witnessing Jaehaerys's body again, this time in the open for all to see, proved too much for Maera. The haunting image of that night lingered vividly in her mind, and the prospect of public mourning became a spectacle she could not bear to partake in. Choosing not to attend the Sept, she grappled with the internal conflict between personal grief and the political ramifications surrounding the tragedy.
The Greens had not yet retaliated over the death of the young Prince. When Maera had approached her father and asked if there was any update on this matter, Lord Jasper had stated no formal decision could be made without the King’s order or consent. It did not surprise Maera to hear that Aegon had sunk further into his cups since the death of his son, as opposed to being there for his wife and other children. She likened it to the distant dynamic she shared with her own father, Lord Jasper, where familial bonds remained strained, even if the desire for the best outcomes for their children lingered distantly in the background, unbeknownst to the offspring of the unapproachable fathers.
Aemond's emotional distance since Jaehaerys's passing weighed heavily on Maera. While she expected it, coping with both her own grief and his detachment proved challenging. Each night, Maera noticed Aemond's late arrival to bed, long after she had fallen asleep. Waking up frequently, she would feel his warm presence, his arm draped around her, and cling desperately to the fleeting connection. However, come morning, Aemond would vanish once again, leaving Maera grappling with the void of his absence.
Despite Aemond's physical presence in the Capital, symbolized by Vhagar on the beach, Maera felt he might as well have been miles away. Adding to her isolation, Maera found herself barred from seeing her dear friend Queen Helaena, who, in her struggles, had banned all visitors. Disturbing accounts from Maera’s spy, the laundry maid, revealed Helaena's distress, spending her days at the window, slipping into screaming fits. The Maester's visits were frequent, administering limited doses of milk of the poppy to soothe her anguish without harming the life growing within her.
Now that Jaehaerys was gone, the Realm expected Helaena to produce another male heir, and the members of the Small Council engaged in many conversations about the Queen’s health in order to produce another Targaryen Prince. A disgusting pressure for a mother in mourning, who could not even look at her remaining children due to the guilt she felt from that traumatic night.
Maera, a Wylde accustomed to the warmth of family and numerous siblings, felt a profound isolation in the unfamiliarity the chambers she shared with her husband. Frustrated by the monotonous confinement, Maera summoned her maid, Thena, yearning for a respite. She requested preparations for a walk in the Godswood, a small attempt to break free from the suffocating routine.
Draped in mourning attire, Maera was laced into a somber black dress, its high neckline adorned with embroidered golden dragons, a symbol of both her mourning and her place within the royal court. Sitting at her dressing table, Thena then began to braid Maera’s hair, intertwining the strands of brown and silver with intricate skill. Maera could see concern etched across her loyal maid’s face in the reflection of the mirror, knowing a string of questions would follow.
"I heard from the kitchen maids that you didn't eat breakfast, nor your dinner from last night, Princess," Thena voiced gently.
Maera sighed, "You know my appetite tends to wane during times of stress, Thena."
Thena, undeterred and beginning to pin the long braids back, replied, "I'm merely concerned for you. The castle has certainly been shaken by the death of the little Prince."
Maera clenched her jaw, discomfort evident in her solemn green eyes. "It is truly an awful tragedy," she acknowledged. What did not help Maera is that there seemed to be no escape. When exhaustion took over every night and she was forced to go to sleep, Maera was met with the same nightmare she always had. Not to only did she have to watch her mother perish, a devastating image all on its own. Now, in the background, a small headless body lay alone, cold and bloody on the stone floor.
After a pause, Maera opened up, "I see Jaehaerys every night. In my dreams. It is haunting to relive that experience constantly." She shook her head, as if attempting to remove them from her mind. Instead, memories of little Jaehaerys replaced the gory image, transporting her to a time that felt not so distant. It was as if the echoes of his laughter lingered among the leaves, a haunting melody of a joyous past.
The recollection of assisting Helaena in the birth of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera felt like a vivid tableau frozen in time. It was a day marked by anticipation and hope, a stark contrast to the current sorrow that enveloped Maera’s heart. During times when she wasn’t in Kings Landing, Helaena’s letters acted as windows into the twins’ world. The updates were like lifelines, each word painting a picture of Jaehaerys’ boldness and confidence that outshone his twin. The letters spoke of a little boy who walked sooner, his adventurous spirit giving Jaehaera the courage to explore the world alongside him. And now, within a blink, it was gone. Jaehaerys was gone.
Thena, finishing pinning the thick braids, placed a comforting hand on Maera's shoulder. “The world is a cruel place. War does not spare anyone, not even children,” the maid sighed, before reaching for a thick golden headpiece and delicately placing it on Maera’s head. The black mourning veil attached to it cascaded over Maera’s hair and neck like a shroud of mourning, creating a visual testament to the heavy heart she carried within.
“Grief is a heavy burden, and sharing it can lighten the load. I'm always here if you need to talk, Princess," Thena offered, the sincerity in her words reflecting the deep bond between maid and mistress, an alliance that Maera was thankful for in a place like Kings Landing.
The Godswood, once a sanctuary of serenity, now bore the weight of mourning since Jaehaerys' murder. The atmosphere, once alive with the whispers of wind through leaves and the chirping of birds, now held a heavy stillness. The ancient weirwood tree stood as a silent witness to the grief that echoed within its sacred space, it’s usually crimson leaves seeming duller than usual. The plants, once vibrant and full of life, now seemed to droop in empathy.
As Maera wandered through the winding paths, she found herself the sole inhabitant of this once-shared sanctuary, the silence was only broken by the soft crunch of her footsteps on the gravel path. Ser Arryk, her loyal protector, had offered his presence, but she insisted he stay stationed outside Aegon's rooms, where the King was guarded around the clock, given the recent incident.
Abruptly, the atmosphere shifted as a rainstorm swept through the Godswood. The rain descended with a gentle insistence, each droplet a soft lament against the hallowed silence. Normally finding comfort in the rain, its rhythmic patter echoing the familiar weather of her home in Rainwood, today it seemed to mirror the collective grief that enveloped her world.
With the rain intensifying by the minute, Maera hastened her steps, seeking refuge from the downpour. In her hurried search, she stumbled upon a small stone structure adorned with winding pillars. Its sturdy roof promised shelter, and she gratefully entered.
Inside, the Seven-Pointed star on the floor, meticulously patterned into the stone, caught her eye. It was a sacred symbol that seemed to offer a momentary respite from the storm both outside and within. A stone bench leant against the wall between two pillars and above it, a clear view of the Godswood, now cloaked in the gentle veil of rain.The rhythmic tapping of raindrops on the roof created a comforting melody, and through the arches, Maera could witness the dance of raindrops on the leaves of the ancient trees.
Kneeling before the bench, the rough surface beneath her knees grounding her, Maera clasped her hands fervently. The Seven-Pointed star on the floor seemed to connect her to the divine as she whispered her prayers, each plea a delicate breath escaping her lips. Her supplications sought comprehension for the violence that had befallen Jaehaerys, a plea for the ethereal care of his innocent soul. A heavy sigh carried the weight of her grief, anger, and fear, emotions entangled like the vines that adorned the Godswood.
Amidst her silent communion, the gravel outside crunched under familiar footsteps. The sound, like a delicate herald, indicated an approaching presence. The footsteps transitioned to the stone floor behind her, and Maera, caught in the vulnerability of her prayers, felt the weight of another's gaze upon her, a silent witness to her plea for answers in the face of inexplicable cruelty.
“Gaomagon ao pendagon pōnta rȳbagon īlva? Se Jaehossas, nyke nūmāzma?” Do you think they hear us? The Gods, I mean? The familiar purr of High Valyrian was a comforting sound amongst the rainfall.
Maera lifted her eyes and a mix of relief and uncertainty washed over her at the sight of Aemond standing over her in the sheltered space. Clad in a black cloak, he lowered the hood, revealing his straight silver hair cascading like a waterfall. His usual attire of black leathers adorned him, and the expressionless look on his sharply contoured face hinted at a stoic resolve. The atmosphere between them, however, felt strained and uneasy. The weight of grief hung heavily in the air, exacerbating the tension that had settled between them during the past week.
“Nyke daor unna. Issa pasābagon emagon issare pasābagon hen hēzīr.” I am not sure. My faith has been tested as of late, she replied, her voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Rising to her feet, the skirts of Maera's black mourning dress rustled softly as she stood before her husband. She couldn't help but notice Aemond's tall form, his figure towering over her. The once-familiar presence now seemed distant, adding to the strained atmosphere that enveloped them.
Aemond's voice, when he finally spoke, cut through the silence like a chill wind. “Pār skoro syt gaomagon ao johegzi naejot jorepagon?”Then why do you continue to pray? His question seemed to lack empathy, the emptiness in his tone mirroring his own inner turmoil, and perhaps his own current struggles with his faith in the Gods. Despite Maera being aware of her husband’s coping mechanism to shut down during difficult times, facing the emotional void he presented proved challenging.
Taking is question personally, Maera replied with a tense jaw, “Kesrio syt lo konīr iksos gīda nykeā kelinītsos naejot maghagon lyks naejot Jaehaeys’ gīs, nyke jāhor gaomagon ziry.” Because if there is even a slight chance to bring peace to Jaehaerys’ soul, I will do it.
The One-Eyed Prince simply hummed in response, causing Maera to tear her gaze away from him to instead look ahead at the rain-kissed Godswood, the sacred surroundings offering a sanctuary from the tension that thickened the air. A heavy silence lingered, like a fog that refused to dissipate. The space between them, once filled with shared sorrows and understanding, now seemed fraught with an unfamiliar unease, leaving Maera and Aemond stood side by side, grappling with loss, faith, and the haunting specter of tragedy.
And yet through it all, an unanswered question remained. A question that Maera had avoided asking her husband due to fearing what the answer would be. But in the wake of Jaehaerys’ unthinkable fate, the dread of an answer seemed eclipsed by the horrors already endured.
With a stern countenance, Maera turned to Aemond, her green eyes widened with a mix of trepidation and determination. “Why did you do it?”
Aemond turned his face towards her, his eyebrow raised in a silent challenge. Frustration mounting, Maera pressed further, her words cutting through the air, “Lucerys. Why?”
A gruff response came, “You know why.”
Scoffing, Maera retorted, “I thought you said it was a fair exchange. Evidently not, considering you killed him.”
Aemond turned his body towards her, anger flickering in his eyes. “You do not know what it is till have a crime against you go unpunished. To be made a cripple, with one slice of a blade.”
Maera, her own anger rising, shot back, “Lucerys took something from me too: you! He took the boy I cared for away from me. And if he were anyone else, I would have killed him myself the minute you arrived back from Driftmark!” Pacing restlessly, her steps echoed the unease within. Quickened breaths betrayed the internal struggle, and her fists clenched and unclenched, mirroring the conflict that raged within her. Maera pressed on, her voice revealing her anguish. “But Lucerys was a Prince, and killing the son of an heir to the throne has dire consequences. Consequences that poor Jaehaerys paid for.”
Aemond, adept at masking his emotions, remained stood with a stoic facade at the words getting hurled at him. His face was a mask, revealing little of the turmoil within, his body language controlled. His unyielding composure clashed with Maera's expressive turmoil, each movement and expression contributing to the mounting tension.
A heavy silence settled in the Godswood, the rain creating a soft symphony as Aemond, after a pause, began to speak. His voice held an intensity that drew Maera's attention.“The bond between dragon and rider is not a simple one. It is one built on trust and a profound understanding of one another, a relationship that does not even need words to communicate.”
Maera, frustration etched on her face, couldn’t hold back her anger. “What in the Seven Hells are you talking about?”
Frowning at her interruption, Aemond implored, “Let me finish, Maera,” causing her to bite her impatient tongue and attempt to listen to his explanation, watching him skeptically.
“Yes,” he started, with a smug tilt of his head, “repaying the Strong bastard back for what he did would have been immensely satisfying. But I am no fool, I knew what the ramifications would be.”
Maera’s gaze narrowed but she listened on, torn between understanding the complexities of Aemond's motivations and grappling with the consequences that lingered in the shadows of their words. The rain, indifferent to the turmoil beneath the canopy of trees, continued its rhythmic dance, as if echoing the ebb and flow of their emotions.
Aemond paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air. “Dragons do not care for the intricacies of politics, nor the consequences of their actions.”
As realization slowly dawned on Maera, she watched him, the truth sinking in. Aemond continued, “Vhagar knows me better than most. Despite the control I maintain, deep down, I wanted Lucerys dead. And Vhagar delivered.”
Maera nodded, though her gaze turned away, grappling with the unsettling truth. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stated, “What’s done is done now.”
She remained beside her husband in silence, the relentless storm continued on, but the comfort of the rain could not soothe Maera’s growing concerns for her future. The murder of Jaehaerys, an unspeakable tragedy, cast a long shadow over her psyche, each raindrop a reminder of the tears she had shed for the innocent life lost. The ongoing war between the Blacks and the Greens added another layer of dread, the conflict threatening to engulf everything she held dear.
Worries for Helaena's fragile mental state intensified Maera's anxiety, the haunting image of her friend sitting by the window etched in her mind. The unpredictability of war left her in a constant state of unease, wondering about the safety of her family and herself. Fear gnawed at the edges of her thoughts, raising questions of what if she became a target, or worse, if her family faced the wrath of the turbulent times.
“What if it does not stop?” Maera asked aloud, the vulnerability in her voice causing Aemond to face her, a frown on his face as she continued. “What if the Blacks feel one death is not enough? What if I am in danger? My family?”Her green eyes, usually vibrant, now reflected the storm of emotions within, and her shoulders bore the tension of the fears she dared to voice.
Aemond’s response was not just words. With a determined resolve, he seized her face with both hands, tipping her head back to meet his fierce gaze. “You are my wife, Maera. I will not let any harm come to you.”
His thumb brush over her cheek as tears began streaming down Maera's face. "If they managed to get Jaehaerys, what is stopping them from trying again? And this time, killing the wife of the person who murdered Lucerys?"
A growl rumbled in Aemond's throat. "They are trying to break us, but they will not succeed. They will not break me, and they certainly will not break my wife. Do you understand?" he demanded.
In a silent acknowledgment, Maera nodded, her eyes momentarily cast downward. Aemond, refusing to let the fear linger, lifted her face once more. In a moment that transcended words, he pressed a hard, rough kiss to her lips. The intensity of the kiss served as a promise, a shared defiance against the fears that threatened to unravel them. As Aemond's nibbled on her bottom lip and began tasting the inside of her mouth, the passion between them intensified, a flame rekindled amidst the rain-soaked Godswood.
Maera, caught in the intensity of the moment, felt herself being gradually pushed back. The world around them blurred, the raindrops forming a hazy curtain as the kiss became a fervent exchange. The stone pillars of the garden structure loomed around them, and her back eventually met the unyielding surface. Against the cold stone, the heat of their shared passion persisted. He span Maera around so her face and chest were pressed against the pillar.
Aemond yanked the black mourning veil from her head, discarding it across the Seven-Pointed star floor buried his fingers in the roots of her hair, causing her head to tilt to the side. With better access, Aemond began to lick and suck at her neck, leaving blooms of red and purple markings in his wake, his strong hands settling on her rounded hips. He then pressed against her, and through the thick black skirts, Maera could still feel his long hard cock digging into her backside, becoming aware of his intentions.
“Aemond,” she breathed, stifling a moan as he bit her neck. “We can’t.”
“Be quiet,” the Prince spat at her, his voice low and commanding as he desperately bunched up the back of her skirts in order to gain access to her. Maera felt the fabric of her smallclothes being ripped and heard the remnants of them hitting the ground, the cold air hitting her now bare core, which was now slick with her arousal. The sound of the unbuckling of a belt hit her ears and before she could turn to look at him, Maera felt her husbands thick cock enter her fully, causing her to gasp. Filling her to the hilt, Maera welcomed the stretching feeling of being reunited with her husband in this way.
“Fuck, so wet for me. And I barely even touched you,” Aemond groaned as he began to rut into her deeply. Hanging onto the pillar for some form of support, Maera pushed her hips backwards, desperate to take in more of him as he fucked her against the stone. The Prince pressed his face to hers as he licked the shell of her ear, breathing heavily and quickly next to it, causing Maera to shudder with excitement. He then turned his attention to one of her hands which grasped at the stone wall, bringing it towards his face and sucking on two of her fingers, coating them with his saliva.
He then withdrew them from his mouth before whispering into her ear. “Touch yourself, Princess.”
Maera gasped at his demand, a blush tinting her face. “I cannot,” she whined in response whilst he continued to thrust into her harshly, embarrassed that he would ask to see her do such a thing. She yelped as he smacked her behind sharply, the stinging sensation acting almost as punishment for denying him.
“Do as your Prince commands,” he hissed, kissing along her jawline, making her lean her head back against his shoulder in pleasure, a silent plea for more.
Wanting to be a dutiful and obeying wife, Maera reached under her skirts and began to rub vigorous circles against her clit with her now wet fingers, her jaw falling open and her eyes squeezing shut at the ecstasy that began to build within her. Spurred on at the sight of her, Aemond began to pound harder into her, each time hitting that spongey spot deep within her core, causing her to moan loudly with pleasure. Thankfully, the rainstorm had continued in the background, muffling any noise that the pair made within the stone structure.
The nerves on her lower body were on high alert as she began to approach her peak, her walls clenching around the Prince, causing a deep “fuck” to leave his lips. The stone of the pillar scraped against Maera’s face, but she did not care as she teetered on the very edge of pleasure. And Aemond knew it.
“Yes, that’s it. Let go, let me feel you,” he purred, and that’s all it seemed to take. Maera’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as a warm wave of pleasure hit her, sending her mind reeling. As her cunt fluttered and squeezed around him, Aemond too felt his release, spilling his seed inside of her with a deep and guttural groan.
Small whimpers left her mouth as Maera’s breathing began to slow, coming down from her high. She felt Aemond lean against her, his forehead pressing against her shoulder. With a hiss, he withdrew his cock from her and she could feel his hot seed spilling down her leg, a feeling that was not unpleasant and made her smile with pride. As Maera let go of her skirts and smoothed them out, erasing any evidence of the encounter, she looked up at her husband, seeing that he had removed his cloak and was holding it up, so they could both find shelter beneath it.
“Let us go back inside,” he implored, a smug smile on lips. “It is getting too cold.”
“Thank the Gods then that I have you to keep me warm, husband,” Maera replied cheekily as she dove under the cloak beside him before the pair ran down the gravel path to return to their shared chambers.
Tumblr media
Notes: Here, have some smut; it’s nearly Christmas after all 🤣
Tags: @blue-serendipity @watercolorskyy @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @shesjustanothergeek
Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤
39 notes · View notes
Text
Evelyn Demirci (Ace!Tav) Character Bio
Tumblr media
Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) Masterlist
Basics
Nickname/Aliases: Evie, Tavern Mouse, Tav
Pronouns: She/Her/They/Them
Age: 26
Race/Subrace: Human (Gur)
Class/Subclass: Bard/College of Lore
Alignment: Neutral Good
STR: 10 DEX: 15 CON: 12 INT: 8 WIS: 13 CHA: 17
Appearance
Skin Tone: Dark Olive
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Black
Hairstyle: Long and braided
Build: A bit slim, acrobatic and flexible
Height: 5’ 6’’
Style: When not in her performance dress, typically she wears some nondescript adventurer garb meant for comfort over style; something that will make it easy for her the blend into a crowd
Weapon(s): Rapier, dagger
Instrument(s): Violin, Lute, Lyre
Personality
General Personality Traits: Personable, Empathetic, Withdrawn
Ideals: People. She is committed to the people she cares about, not to ideals.
Bonds: She is just trying to end the day with a full stomach and a roof over her head, even if it will only last that one night. Anything more permanent feels out of reach.
Flaws: Doesn’t share much about herself, including any negative or uncertain emotions she may be feeling in the moment. It’s easy for her to get lost in relationships.
Secrets: Her sexuality
Regrets: Not pressing her father more about their tribe. Maybe then she would have been able to find them.
Relationships
Best Friend(s): Gale, Karlach, Wyll
Family: Emelie Demirci (mother/deceased), Ryland Demirci (father/unknown)
Lovers: Astarion
Sexuality: Asexual
Backstory
Evie didn’t get the start most would consider ideal.
Her parents were part of a tribe of Gur traveling across Faerun, slaying monsters and earning money where they could, even if certain townships looked down on them. Unfortunately, her father, Ryland had a habit of living up to the stereotypes. If people were going to see them as cut throats and thieves, might as well be a good one. Evie never got the full story, but eventually he crossed the line and was forced to leave the caravan. Her mother soon followed, loving him too much to leave him.
So, Evie was born in the back room of a tavern as it was the only place her father could find that wasn’t a tent in the middle of the woods. It didn’t do her mother much good either way as she died not long after.
Ryland did what he could, at least at the start. Evie would later reflect with vague memories of an Inn, the smell of rosemary and her father tucking her into a straw bed. Those memories wouldn’t last, however, as they were over taken by a blur of different ceilings, tent canvas, the night sky, hard dirt and stone cobbles.
He taught her how to pick pockets and use those big blue eyes of hers to gain sympathy of the local tavern keeper for an extension on their bill. Sometimes he’d leave for days at a time, swearing he’d be back sooner than he ever was. They wouldn’t kick a little girl out on the streets now would they? He just needed to earn some extra coin.
It wasn’t usual for Evie to be put to work then, cleaning and sweeping, a little mouse scurrying here and there searching for crumbs and trying not to get stepped on. Eventually the little tavern mouse was being called Tav rather than her given name; a name she could hardly argue against, especially once her father left one final time, never to return. She was eight years old.
It was long after she was told to find a new place to stay. Her father was behind on payments and the owner didn’t want a Gur pick pocket hanging around his customers. That first night, alone on the street, was just about the worst of her entire life. For some time after those streets would be her home as she did what she could to eat and find a safe place to sleep, day after day as she searched for even a roof to have over her head.
Some merchants and tavern maids took pity on her, letting her stay for a time and earn her keep, but something would inevitably go missing and the finger would be pointed at her. It wouldn’t matter if they found nothing in her pack or in her bed roll or if the item was found a day later, she would be out on the street all over again.
This continued for years until she was about twelve years old working at an inn where a company of bards and actors came to perform. The leader, a tiefling named Lyric, was an extremely talent musician and Evie found herself absolutely entranced. The owner of this particular inn wasn’t especially kind and she knew she’d be accused of something sooner rather than later and so that night she snuck into the players caravan to left.
She was discovered the next morning, but rather than leave her in the middle of nowhere, Lyric took pity on her. So long as she earned her keep and didn’t slow down the caravan, he didn’t see the issue.
He taught her how to play once he discovered she had a talent for music, gifting her a violin. He wasn’t an warm man, but neither was he cruel. He was simply her mentor and just about the only stable force in her life. But like so many things, that would not last either.
When Evie was about seventeen, Lyric and a few other of the players were caught attempting to steal from a rather rich lord in town. He hasn’t told the others of this plan. The only reason Evie and the rest were able to escape was because another one of the group saw the arrest and warned the others to scatter. Evie was left again without a home or even acquaintances to rely on. All she had was a pack with five days worth of rations and a violin. But she would be alright, she’d been alone before. At least now she could make her own way.
Even so, every town she passed through, each new face she met, she found herself looking for something she couldn’t name. The bonds she made always felt temporary, slipping through her fingers the harder she held on. Still, she had to try.
Nothing in her history, however, could prepare her for an illithid ship and the group of weirdos she’s find herself apart of. There are worse ways to get to know people, although she’s having trouble thinking of what.
16 notes · View notes
Note
Crush My Bones with Bittersweet 🙏
Your titles are my FAVORITE just saying
*Deep breath* This one is a little out there, ngl.
Basic premise is a what if/reincarnation fic. What if Coin somehow screwed up the deception and everyone knew it was her that dropped the bombs on the Capitol children? What if Snow still dies but the Capitol (Snow's granddaughter, hello) manages to maintain control in the chaos after the war? As for the reincarnation aspect, what if Katniss and Peeta died in the war and then were reincarnated a generation later as enemies, but their memories of each other from their previous life grow increasingly stronger with each interaction? Like I said. It's a little out there. I don't have much written yet. Actually what I'm sharing here is everything that is actually written, and the outline is still in flux/very much a draft.
Thanks for the ask, friend! And I always feel like I struggle with titles, lol so that means a lot. <3 kdnfb
**
From the Second Treaty of the Treasons…
Section 1: Let it hereby be declared upon these cessation of hostilities the most Noble and August House of Snow proclaims for the future prosperity of the nation
That the war criminal known as Alma Coin, for her heinous and unpardonable crimes of inciting insurrection, producing harmful and misleading propaganda against the Capitol, and ordering the bombing of children and medics upon both sides of this tragic conflict, shall be executed by hanging in public.
That the military assets of the province known as District Thirteen, to include soldiers, weapons, transportation, physical infrastructure, and medical assets, are hereby remanded into the custody of the Capitol.
That this new military shall be charged with maintaining the peace and prosperity and security of the nation, beholden and obedient to the orders of the office of The President, punishable by death. The specific purpose, powers, and duties of The President shall be delineated in Section II of this treaty. The purpose and duties of said military shall be delineated in Section III of this treaty.
That the most August and Noble endeavor known as the Hunger Games are hereby abolished in perpetuity.
That, in order to secure amity and equality in the need for retribution, to establish a bond of trust and mutual sacrifice among the people of Panem, there shall on each fourth day of July, take place a public Reaping. The purpose and ceremonial procedures of this Reaping to be explained in Section IV.
That henceforth and forevermore, the names ascribed to the late rebels, Katniss and Peeta, are hereby outlawed, neither to be uttered nor given by any citizen, an offense punishable by death.
Always the same dream. A desiccated street cloaked in a blanket of smoke. Agony metallic in her mouth. Searing her skin. Screams hollow in her ears. Muffled. And half a face hovering over hers. The tears welling in her eyes smearing the paint of the image to incomprehensible.
“Don’t go. Don’t go. Please don’t go. You can’t die. No you can’t!”
The crack of gunshots. The full, blooming sky puckered with black smoke.
And then… nothing.
Catriona Nox surfaces slowly from the dream. A recurring nightmare. She blinks the sleep from her eyes and squints at the bright sliver of spring sunshine peeking in through her curtains. Rolls over to carefully luxuriate in her silken sheets. She reaches out and turns the gilded clock on her bedside table, sighing at the time. Her maid allowed her to oversleep.
Tossing aside the covers, she rises from the bed, marches to the window and flings open the drapes. A few blinks and her eyes adjust to the bright morning sunshine and she is able to drink in the bounteous profusion of flowers blooming in her garden. Her lips quirk in a smile. Even a Snow would be envious. Not for nothing is Catriona Nox known as the greenest thumb in the Capitol.
Reaching out, she pulls the velvet chord to ring for her maid and dances across her room towards the ensuite bathroom, starting the bathwater and humming to herself.
18 notes · View notes
tinfairies · 1 year
Note
Aegons Lannister wife loves him she really does, not for what his last name provides her but because she really loves him flaws and all.
She’ll often bathe him as a form of bonding, before bed she’ll brush his hair and oil his scalp.
She often reads to him when they’re alone together.
He teaches her Valyrian while she shows him the ways of the court (bc he never paid attention) and tells him the gossip of the ladies.
They’re never not together and Alicent finds it amusing that there is in fact a woman that can tame her wild son.
They take trips into kings landing to speak with the small folk and hear their complaints so they can try to fix them, Aegon knows a whole world beyond the castle and the streets of silk and wants to help them in anyway he can.
She reassures him that she doesn’t love him because he’s destined to be king , she loves him because he loves her.
She loves his chub, because it’s a thin layer and then muscle but really it keeps her warm at night.
He never really thought about having children but after he sees the way she has an orphan on her hip and is bending down to tell a story to another one count him in. He wants nothing more to see her breasts spill out of her dress and her hips start to fill out.
Alicent loves Lannister wife, she’s respectful and kind but she makes it known that a man will not trample over her. Alicent sees this in action when she drags Aegon to apologize to every maid still at the castle he’s groped up before she arrived in KL.
Her and Helena have great conversation Helena’s about insects and the flora and fauna and wife’s about constellations.
Aemond doesn’t know how to feel about her, on one hand she’s really nice to him and gives him no reason to be alarmed but on the other hand looking in her green eyes unnerves him.
Otto hates her, she sees right through him and to him she’s running his plans, but it takes a manipulator to know one.
Speaking of him being king she strikes a deal with Nyra behind everyone’s back because she knows how much she Aegon hate the idea of ruling. The plan is that Lannister wife convinces Vissy to crown Nyra before he dies so it is known through the realm who he chose because his word is no longer enough. The only stipulations that she’s given Nyra for her to put this in motion is that Joffrey’s hand goes to her niece, she is not to interfere with how Aegon helps the small folk as he’s grown quite fond, and Lannister wife is named hand. Nyra contemplates it before agreeing (different set of headcanons for agreeing will be sent in later.)
Good soup anon
Tumblr media
67 notes · View notes
kindan-no-kanojo · 4 months
Text
⊹𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖔 1.9
Tumblr media Tumblr media
❝Do not wrong the crows. They protect those they love, but they don't love many.❞
╬━━━━━━ ❪ ❦ ❫ ━━━━━━╬
꧁•⊹ Relationships
Canon verse: Timeline where her original story takes place. Here, she's in a relationship with Kino.
Independent verse: Alternative timeline where most interactions with other characters usually take place and Scarlett is unaffiliated.
—Parents
CW: War, suicide and neglect mention.
Scarlett's father went missing in action in a war he attended during the pregnancy of his fianceé. After he was assumed dead, the woman gave birth to a bastard child, becoming ostracized by her family for the premarital conception and birth. The lack of emotional support, plus the loss of her husband-to-be, drove the mother into a great depression that caused her health to be severely weakened. Eventually, she could not handle the loneliness nor the physical and emotional pain any further, and refused to cause harm to her child; hopeless, her dark mindset found that ending her life was the solution, wishing that the baby would follow her shortly after. Instead, however, neighbors alerted authorities about a baby's constant weep, rescuing it and reporting the mother's death.
To this day, Scarlett is unaware of the full details behind her mother's suicide. She's learned about those events after her demonic rebirth, when she was given back all her human memories, including those of a newborn. Therefore, she only relies on images from her own point of view. Additionally, while she doesn't think much about her father, she suspects that her mother's deep love for him was what led her to make her ultimate decision, which deepens her resentment. These events feed her belief of love being conditional, and family bonds being as weak as any other bond. Overall, Scarlett resents her mom for "keeping all the peace to herself", avoids engaging in any conversation that reminds her of her, and fears falling in love would corrupt her mind like it did to her mother's.
—Rhiannon
Rhiannon was Scarlett's Young Lady during her servanthood, though she would refer to herself as her 'Master' to go against her relatives' wishes. Rhiannon was a very spoiled, princess-like girl who mentally manipulated her slaves, and let her favorite ones physically torture whoever when against her words. Because of her heavy reliance on her maids, Rhiannon was rather incompetent when it came to the use of her own powers and self-preservation skills, something that played a huge role in her own death, as she was unable to defend herself against significantly weaker creatures.
Despite the amount of abuse Scarlett endured from Rhiannon, she had a very soft spot for her. The severe manipulation and Rhiannon's grandiose delusions led Scarlett to believe that she was in complete charge of Rhiannon's life, and any mishap was her responsibility as her protector, therefore deserving of punishment. Scarlett escaped on a whim after Rhiannon's death took place before her eyes, killing the perpetrators instead of righteously ending her life. Because of this, Scarlett later experiences survivor's guilt. As time passes, Scarlett is able to reflect on her past, however, she is unable to resent Rhiannon. Instead, she envies her.
—Karl Heinz
Karl Heinz is the creator of Ghouls. He started a war under another name during Scarlett's human life, the one that her father attended and lost his life in, and the conflict that later became against civilians and ended with her own life on the streets after her trip to Romania. The first corpses Karl Heinz gathered for his initial experimentation were taken from the aftermath.
Scarlett is unaware that the man that brought her back and Karl Heinz are the same person. She believes Karl Heinz is only the Vampire King —who, in her Canon verse, has already passed—, and has heard about his sons and wives. Beyond that, she is oblivious and uninterested.
—Sakamaki Brothers
Given that Sakamaki Brothers have participated in the Coming-of-Age Ceremony as children, it is likely that Scarlett has encountered them at some point. However, due to her state at the time, she doesn't remember the event vividly. She might have flashbacks of places or remember voices, but not faces or specific people.
In the Canon Verse, Reiji is the current King of the Demon World. She's very distant towards him, but respects him a lot. Kanato and Shuu are the only ones who remember seeing Scarlett in the ceremony. Scarlett despises Laito for his shameless approaches, feels curious but rather indifferent about Subaru, and considers Ayato as someone fun but incompetent. Regardless of the verse, Reiji is the one she dislikes the least.
—Mukami Brothers
She doesn't encounter the Mukami brothers until she starts attending school. Out of the four, she only has a decent relationship with Ruki, though it is mostly surface-level. She dislikes Kou, feels intimidated by Yuma, and avoids Azusa.
—Tsukinami Brothers
Founders were connected to Rhiannon, so she has heard of them and their confinement. However, she doesn't know them personally, and she lowkey fears their immense power and rank, as a powerless Ghoul herself. Considers Carla completely unapproachable, and Shin as someone very impulsive and to be wary of.
—Kino
Kino is the responsible of sending the Ghouls that ultimately ended with Rhiannon's life. However, the original intention was to only rescue Scarlett from slavery. It takes time before Scarlett learns about his intentions and starts being grateful towards him.
In the Independent Verse, he does this to save a captive Ghoul, not to save Scarlett specifically. She then escapes and shelters in the Human World, assumed dead in the fire that killed her Young Lady.
In the Canon verse, he takes advantage of the Ghoul's obliviousness about him and his reputation, using her to gain some trust from the others despite his past actions. However, now he has to deal with the fact that Rhiannon was killed and no one was made responsible, so Scarlett decides to takes matters into her own hands.
Scarlett is in a relationship with Kino in the Canon verse only.
—Yuuri
Yuuri distrusts Scarlett a lot. Initially, he stays at a distance since Kino feels threatened by the possibility of him allying with her, but it starts being a mindful action upon realizing that Scarlett is likely to also use Kino due to her resentment towards demons, and the position of power he means.
Scarlett sees Yuuri as someone very similar to who she used to be during servanthood, and wonders what else is beyond his icy surface. She considers Yuuri someone very kind, perhaps too kind for his own good.
—Yui
In the Canon Verse, Yui is the Queen of the Demon World alongside Reiji. She likes and respects Yui a lot, despite their short exchanges.
In the Independent Verse, Scarlett does not meet Yui until she starts attending school. She thinks she's very cute, but her openness can be intimidating for the human girl.
—Other characters
Canonically, Scarlett has not met Cordelia, Beatrix, Christa or Richter, but has heard about "Karl Heinz's wives" or "Karl Heinz's brother", never getting into further details.
Same applies to Krone and Giesbach, as well as other clan leaders.
Scarlett has heard about Odessa's legend. She supports Odessa's actions, though she's unaware of who actually got affected by them.
╬━━━━━━ ❪ ❦ ❫ ━━━━━━╬
[ Masterlist ]
14 notes · View notes
livedtoserve · 19 days
Note
[ 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 ] (teacher bonding time with pain)
still bottled up | still accepting!
She must keep working, she cannot and will not stop.
The depths of the monastery are in utter disarray. Nothing compared to the spotless hallways of the Northern Fortress, or any of the previous Nohrian manors she was temporarily assigned to for that matter. Dust litters nearly every corner of the walls and pillars, their classrooms lacked straight tabling at times, and even the floor itself refused to conform to an acceptable straightness.
How was she - no, how was anyone - meant to live with any amount of comfort in a state like this?!
Flora decides on a course of action, nothing would get done if she is listing the problems rather than solving them. The dust bunny army seems like a simple enough start. This feather duster she obtained from the market is perhaps a tad small to expect a clean street in a day, but the maid will make it work. She must make it work.
Minutes become hours as she commits to her labor. At times she has to double down on a spot on the wall to truly finish it off, but she finds no harm in such repetition. It keeps her busy, keeps her working. More working is less thinking of what she has lost. Servitude has kept her alive in the past, and it will keep her alive now.
Flora can feel the stares from passersby as she flings her body from wall to wall. None of them speak up in protest, so she ignores the looks and goes on with her toiling. That is, until she is at last stopped by an older man, one she barely recognizes yet can somewhat recall from his towering height and long, blonde hair. A fellow instructor for the souls trapped down here.
And...he is requesting her to take a break? But she is not even halfway done. Perhaps he doesn't understand.
"Master Lambert...am I correct?" Flora a bow, a small courtesy to back up her refusal. "I apologize for alarming you, but I feel fine enough to continue a while longer. You should expect this place to be clean by the evening."
Her words do not align with her figure. Piles of sweat coat the sides of her face, a face that is struggling to maintain a stone-cold smile after days of failed rest. The performance of bowing is enough to threaten her posture to self-destruct and topple her over. Now that it's on her mind...when was her last glass of water?
Flora looks up at the professor that holds a stare that implies he will not take "no" as an answer. Not in a way ignorant to her feelings, but one that is concerned for her needs. That face...it reminds her of another senior who would try to stop the young maid while she was ahead. No matter how hard she argued or attempted to sneak by, the knight would never allow her to burn out.
"...though if you insist, I may rest for some time. Ten minutes at most," Flora quietly sighs, though it is one of relief and not disappointment. "Might I be selfish to request the nearest place to get something to drink?"
4 notes · View notes
the-pen-pot · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
It Only Takes A Spark
Summary: Arthur sees something he shouldn't have, and realises everything he is missing. (Also on AO3)
------
Arthur stepped out of the door or the Rising Sun, leaving the easy laughter and revelry of the other patrons behind him.
Once, his trips to the tavern had been few and far between. Gwaine had changed all that. For all that he was a long-haired irritant in Arthur's life, he had to admit that the man was observant. He had taken one look at them – the Crown Prince and his chosen knights – and decided they needed a place where they could bond. Somewhere away from the castle and Uther's disapproving gaze.
The knights were not the only ones who had claimed the private room above the inn’s main bar as their refuge. Normally, Merlin would be with them, not as a servant but as a friend, fleecing them at dice and brightening the room with his irreverent jibes and that wicked smile.
Tonight, however, he'd made his excuses: something about collecting night-blooming herbs for Gaius. Arthur would deny until his dying breath that Merlin's absence was his reason for cutting out after only two pints of mead, but his knights did not care about his reasons. Instead, they had given him those same patient, disbelieving looks – the kind that bordered on treason and implied he was an idiot.
At least they didn't say it out loud, unlike some people.
Now, the warm evening air closed around Arthur like a velvet glove as he made his way back towards the castle. This close to midsummer, the sky did not truly darken until late, and a soft dusk collected in Camelot's streets, chased off by the braziers lit at street corners.
His father would have insisted a guard accompany him, but Arthur was not concerned for his safety. He was armed, and no more than a touch relaxed from his drinks. If anyone made an attempt on his life, they'd be run through before they had a chance to do more than lunge for him.
Still, he would not be so foolish as to completely let down his guard. It was second nature to be watchful as he left the Lower Town and entered the nicer area closer to the castle. Here the air was perfumed with the heady scent of the delicate roses that rambled over the walls of the merchant's houses, and the streets carried with them a fragile sort of peace.
It was romantic enough, Arthur supposed, hiding a smile as he noticed two shadowy figures sharing passionate kisses against the alley wall by the Horse and Hare, the inn favoured by the wealthier of Camelot's traders.
They were oblivious to him, lost in each other's caresses. Normally, he would have ignored them, diverting his eyes and carrying on towards the castle. That was his intention, right up until the one against the wall tipped back his head with a groan, his face slipping from shadow to light as his lover turned their attentions to the column of his throat.
Merlin.
Arthur had no real memory of drawing himself into the pools of gloom that lined the street, ducking into the mouth of a narrow, cobble-lined path between two houses. Darkness covered him in its mantle, and he braced his hand against the wall, his breathing unnaturally loud in his ears as his heart pounded out a fretful, ragged beat. 
A surge of something raced through his body, striking a confusion of sparks as it went. Pain fluttered in his belly even as heat traced its lines down his thighs. Sweat itched between his shoulder-blades. He was struck by a desperate need to move, not away, but forward: quick, angry strides. He wanted to drag the blond stranger – not some sweet young maid, but someone broad-shouldered and strong – away, to snarl and snap until he left and stopped touching...
He swallowed hard, feeling like his skin was too tight, prickling and sharp. He did not know what to do with himself. Escape would be the best option. He should flee back to the castle and put this from his mind, but he was locked in place, helpless to do anything but stare.
He had never seen Merlin like that: his lashes painting dark fans on his cheeks and his lips flushed with kisses. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the flex of his forearms as he gripped his lover's hip, holding him close.
The stranger leaning into Merlin's space shifted, angling his head and doing something to Merlin's neck – biting maybe. The noise that escaped Merlin's lips ghosted over the still night air, rough and needy, igniting Arthur's body like a lightning strike. His laces felt tight over the hardness of his swelling cock, and he pressed against it with the heel of his palm, stifling a sound as his hips gave a helpless little grind.
This wasn't who he was, hiding in the dark and watching. He did not want to be a voyeur. It was Merlin who held Arthur here, enchanted, torn between captivation and the bitter surge of jealousy.
He tried to excuse it in his head, remembering that it was a long time since he had lain with anyone. Needs had a way of creeping up on a man, only to pounce, but that was a gossamer lie at best. This, his reaction, was less about what two men were doing together in the shadows and far more about the fact that one of them was Merlin.
Gods.
Merlin was a grown man, attractive, despite the ears. It was simply that Arthur had never allowed himself to imagine him like that: flushed with passion, warm and willing. Every time his mind had started to stray in that direction, he had reined it in.
Now, to have not just vague imaginings hastily stifled, but the actual image of Merlin right in front of him – still clothed, still decent – but wrecked all the same, had smashed apart all of Arthur's carefully constructed boundaries like a siege engine.
How was he meant to look at Merlin and not see this? How was he supposed to meet that sparkling blue gaze and not imagine himself in that stranger's place, crowding Merlin against a wall and wringing those tight noises from his lips?
A flicker of movement tore him from his thoughts, and he watched as the stranger eased himself back, holding out a hand in invitation. They didn't utter a word – they didn't need to. It was a communication of darkened eyes and flushed cheeks – a bid to find somewhere private to finish what they had started.
Arthur told himself he didn't care what Merlin did. It meant nothing to him when those long-fingers – surprisingly deft over Arthur's armour and sword for someone so clumsy – slid into the other man's palm. A moment later, he pulled Merlin away, no doubt intent on finding somewhere more comfortable to pursue their pleasure to its summit.
Arthur let out a ragged breath, sagging back against the wall of his hiding place. The weathered bricks bore his weight as he gritted his teeth, painfully hard and dizzy with want. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he closed his eyes, trying to will the heat that surged through his frame to ebb. It was a losing battle, but one he fought all the same, forcing his body back under his control.
So much for "gathering herbs", he thought, a fresh surge of unflattering jealousy blazing through his chest. Was that what Merlin had really been doing, on those occasions he had ducked out of spending time with his friends? Had he claimed he was doing chores for Gaius, when really he was losing himself in the touch of another?
Arthur grimaced, opening his eyes to stare up at the narrow strip of night sky above his head, where the stars were starting to glimmer. How Merlin spent his free time was none of his concern, yet he could not help the bitter churn of his emotions: a thin veneer of anger over a stupid, helpless sort of hurt. Morgana always said he was bad at sharing anything he thought of as his. He had just never consciously placed Merlin in that category.
At least until now.
'Ridiculous.'
Pushing himself away from the wall, he winced, adjusting the front of his breeches before checking the coast was clear and stepping back out onto the street. It did not matter what he had seen or what he had felt. The sparks of dazzling awareness that skittered over his skin would fade. The high, eager hum of want, not just for anyone, but for Merlin's in particular, would dim. Arthur's world, so rudely tilted on its axis, would set itself to rights once more.
He would awaken tomorrow to Merlin's obnoxious cheerfulness, and he would think nothing of tonight and all that he had witnessed. It would be forgotten, and everything would return to normal. He was resolved. Merlin was his manservant and, Arthur could grudgingly admit, his friend, but that was where it ended. Merlin's love would always belong in the hands of another. He could never be Arthur's, not like that.
Not now, and not ever.
13 notes · View notes