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Mastering the Art of Entrepreneurship: Crafting a Winning Business Plan for Loans and Building a Stellar Startup Team
Embarking on the entrepreneurial journey requires a strategic roadmap, and two crucial components of this roadmap are formulating a robust business plan for securing loans and assembling a dynamic startup team. In this article, we delve into the intricacies of these essential steps, offering insights to empower aspiring entrepreneurs on their path to success.
Crafting a Business Plan for Loans: A Blueprint for Financial Success
A well-crafted business plan is not only a prerequisite for securing loans but also a roadmap that guides the overall trajectory of your venture. Here's how you can create a compelling business plan that positions your startup for financial success:
Executive Summary: Begin with a concise yet comprehensive executive summary that highlights the key elements of your business. Provide an overview of your mission, product or service, target market, and financial projections.
Market Analysis: Conduct a thorough market analysis to showcase your understanding of industry trends, target demographics, and competitor landscapes. This section should demonstrate the demand for your product or service and your strategy for capturing market share.
Company Description: Clearly articulate your company's mission, vision, and values. Define your unique selling proposition (USP) that sets your business apart from the competition.
Organizational Structure: Outline the structure of your startup, including the roles and responsibilities of key team members. This section provides insight into the foundation of your company and how it will operate on a day-to-day basis.
Product or Service Offering: Provide a detailed description of your product or service, emphasizing its features, benefits, and how it meets the needs of your target audience. Include any intellectual property or proprietary technology that gives your startup a competitive edge.
Marketing and Sales Strategy: Outline your plans for reaching and acquiring customers. This should include your marketing channels, pricing strategy, and sales tactics. Highlight any partnerships or collaborations that enhance your market reach.
Financial Projections: Present realistic and well-researched financial projections, including income statements, balance sheets, and cash flow statements. Investors and lenders want to see a clear understanding of your financial needs and how the funds will be utilized.
Risk Assessment: Acknowledge potential risks and challenges your startup may face and provide strategies for mitigating these risks. Demonstrating a proactive approach to risk management instills confidence in potential lenders.
Forming a Startup Team: The Building Blocks of Success
No entrepreneur can navigate the complexities of business alone. Building a strong and cohesive startup team is crucial for turning your vision into reality. Consider the following steps in forming a stellar team:
Identify Key Roles: Determine the key roles required for your startup's success. This may include individuals with expertise in product development, marketing, sales, finance, and operations.
Seek Diverse Skill Sets: Look for team members with diverse skill sets that complement each other. A mix of skills and perspectives enhances problem-solving and creativity within the team.
Cultural Fit: Beyond skills, assess cultural fit. A team that shares common values and is aligned with the mission of the company is more likely to collaborate effectively and weather challenges together.
Effective Communication: Strong communication is the bedrock of a successful team. Foster an environment where open communication is encouraged, and ideas can be freely shared.
Embrace Flexibility: Startups are dynamic, and the ability to adapt is essential. Seek team members who are flexible, adaptable, and can thrive in a fast-paced environment.
Passion and Commitment: Look for individuals who are not only skilled in their respective areas but also passionate about the mission of the startup. Passionate team members are more likely to go above and beyond to ensure the success of the venture.
Build a Network: Leverage your professional network to identify potential team members. Attend industry events, networking sessions, and use online platforms to connect with individuals who share your vision.
Encourage Ownership: Foster a sense of ownership among team members. When individuals feel a personal stake in the success of the startup, they are more likely to take initiative and contribute proactively.
In conclusion, the success of an entrepreneurial venture hinges on the meticulous crafting of a business plan for loans and the strategic formation a startup team. By addressing these critical aspects with diligence and foresight, aspiring entrepreneurs can pave the way for a thriving and sustainable business.
#Business plan#Values group llc#Tactical Business#Startup Distinguishers#Business plan maker#Forming a startup#Business plan for loans
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YOUR FAVORITE TYPE OF ANTIHERO. Handsome, lots of swearing, violent, full of rage.
⸻ A STUDY IN: Revenge served cold, grief, moral corruption, ruthlessness, suffering for sanity, becoming what one once sought to destroy, doing whatever it takes and being a motherfucker 24/7.
【 . . . 】 Fuck "letting go." You should be out there with a fucking chainsaw, going after 'em.
— ⁰¹ 「rules.」 — ⁰² 「about.」 — ⁰³ 「starter.」 — ⁰⁴ 「inbox.」 — ⁰⁵ 「writings.」 — ⁰⁶ 「edits.」 — ⁰⁷ 「gifs.」 — ⁰⁸ 「credit.」
#VERGELTVNG, a singlemuse blog for BILLY BUTCHER from the Amazon Series THE BOYS, as V'd up by 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. Crossover-, multiverse-, multiship- and duplicate friendly. OCs welcome. Low activity, semi-selective, german preferred. English is fine for short interactions. Mdni, 18+ only.
#userfakevz#f: the boys#the boys rp#billy butcher rp#. ⸻ ⁰⁰ 「nox.」 ⊣⊢ midnight.#. ⸻ ⁰¹ 「file.」 ⊣⊢ glorious five year plan.#. ⸻ ⁰² 「writing.」 ⊣⊢ the name of the game.#. ⸻ ⁰³ 「reflection.」 ⊣⊢ what i know.#. ⸻ ⁰⁴ 「visual.」 ⊣⊢ good for the soul.#. ⸻ ⁰⁵ 「self.」 ⊣⊢ butcher baker candlestick maker.#. ⸻ ⁰⁶ 「study.」 ⊣⊢ we'll keep the red flag flying here.#. ⸻ ⁰⁷ 「inbox.」 ⊣⊢ get some.#. ⸻ ⁰⁸ 「answered.」 ⊣⊢ dirty business.#. ⸻ ⁰⁹ 「connection.」 ⊣⊢ you found me.#. ⸻ ¹⁰ 「fellow ; foe.」 ⊣⊢ the self-preservation society.#. ⸻ ¹¹ 「album.」 ⊣⊢ nothing like it in the world.#. ⸻ ¹² 「craft.」 ⊣⊢ department of dirty tricks.#. ⸻ ¹³ 「noise.」 ⊣⊢ the bloody doors off.#. ⸻ ¹⁴ 「ooc.」 ⊣⊢ the insider.#he-him#bisexual#vorlage#übernatürlich#krimi#gegenwart#b: verwitwet#deutsch#englisch
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Trying to put together a cohesive timeline for SoC/ck and I’ve only just now realized that a full five days pass between the bathroom scene/slat fight/meeting with the triumvirate and the auction? So you’ve got Jesper and wylan who have just sort of gotten together and Nina teaching Matthias all about fun meanwhile I know Kaz and Inej are avoiding each other in the halls of the geldrenner like
#grishaverse#six of crows#crooked kingdom#kaz brekker#inej ghafa#kanej#I know they’re busy with planning but do you think they ever arrived at the coffee maker at the same time#and had to pretend they weren’t intensely vulnerable with each other just a few days ago#Inej is like “hey do you maybe…wanna talk about it” and Kaz just bolts in the opposite direction
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picrew tag game 💥
tagged by @princeofpittsburgh thank u my friend (((o(*°▽°*)o)))
link: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1243146
adding this incredibly crunchy selfie for image scaling purposes but also mod face reveal? ( ̄~ ̄;) (original tag game was just the picrew fyi but dear mutuals it would be pogged to see yall)
tagging any and all mutuals (or even non mutuals) who like picrews / want to do this…….🫵👁️👁️ ❔
#i am cringe but i am not free either#please don’t make fun of me bc if u do i will fall down dead at your feet altering the trajectory of your life forever#couldn’t rlly add my overgrown mullet-ponytail thing to the picrew#its longer than in my icon so i kind of have it in this loop in the selfie#i actually found another maker the other day with accurate hair options so theo i will tag u with that picrew in 1-3 business days#please remind me if i forget ><#tag games#picrew#the sun has risen i think i should go to sleep#i should start getting ready for artfight soon but i’m currently dealing with a minor Situation thats making me mad anxious lmao#ok i’ll figure out tmr’s(today’s?) plans when i wake up again in a few hrs bye
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I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me
It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:
At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.
On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."
Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:
But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:
It gets worse.
"Tempest, how could it possibly--"
source of this video that also includes this charming description:
Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'
There is already a meme.
Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:
Who has already done an interview!
As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!
Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.
The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.
Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!
I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.
Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:
I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.
Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:
Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.
Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.
Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.
I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.
This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.
Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:
With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"
"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:
There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.
The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.
Even better, this weirdly grainy image?
From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.
If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.
As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.
And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...
This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.
Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.
As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...
Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.
You cannot make this stuff up.
But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.
Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.
HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.
#long post#Willy Wonka#Wonka#Willy Wonka Experience#Willy Wonka Experience disaster#Willy's Chocolate Experience#Willys Chocolate Experience#THE UNKNOWN#Wish.com Oompa Loompa#House of Illuminati#AI#ai generated
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A sexy, skinny defeat device for your HP ink cartridge
Animals keep evolving into crabs; it's a process called "carcinisation" and it's pretty weird. Crabs just turn out to be extremely evolutionarily fit for our current environment:
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/why-do-animals-keep-evolving-into-crabs/
By the same token, all kinds of business keep evolving into something like a printer company. It turns out that in this enshittified, poorly regulated, rentier-friendly world, the parasitic, inkjet business model is extremely adaptive. Printerinisation is everywhere.
All that stuff you hate about your car? Trapping you into using their mechanics, spying on you, planned obsolescence? All lifted from the inkjet printer business model:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon
That GE fridge that won't make ice or dispense water unless you spend $50 for a proprietary charcoal filter instead of using a $10 generic? Pure printerism:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/06/12/digital-feudalism/#filtergate
The software update to your Sonos speakers that makes them half as useful and takes away your right to play your stored music, forcing you to buy streaming music subscriptions? Straight out of the HP playbook:
https://www.wired.com/story/sonos-admits-its-recent-app-update-was-a-colossal-mistake/
But as printerinized as all these gadgets are, none can quite attain the level of high enshittification that the OG inkjet bastards attain on a daily basis. In the world championships of effortlessly authentic fuckery, no one can lay a glove on the sociopathic monsters of HP.
For example: when HP wanted to soften us all up for a new world of "subscription ink" (where you have to pre-pay every month for a certain number of pages' worth of printing, which your printer enforces by spying on you and ratting you out to HP over the internet), they offered a "lifetime subscription" plan. With this "lifetime" plan, you paid just once and your HP printer would print out 15 pages a month for so long as you owned your printer, with HP shipping you new ink every time you ran low.
Well, eventually, HP got bored of not making you pay rent on your own fucking printer, so they just turned that plan off. Yeah, it was a lifetime plan, but the "lifetime" in question was the lifetime of HP's patience for not fucking you over, and that patience has the longevity of a mayfly:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/06/horrible-products/#inkwars
It would take many pages to list all of HP's sins here. This is a company that ships printers with half-full ink cartridges and charges more than the printer cost to buy a replacement set. The company that won't let you print a black-and-white page if you're out of yellow ink. The company that won't let you scan or send a fax if you're out of any of your ink.
They make you "recalibrate" your printer or "clean your heads" by forcing you to print sheets of ink-dense paper. They also refuse to let you use your ink cartridges after they "expire."
HP raised the price of ink to over $10,000 per gallon, then went to war against third-party ink cartridge makers, cartridge remanufacturers, and cartridge refillers. They added "security chips" to their cartridges whose job was to watch the ink levels in your cartridge and, when they dip below a certain level (long before the cartridge is actually empty), declare the cartridge to be dry and permanently out of use.
Even if you refill that cartridge, it will still declare itself to be empty to your printer, which will therefore refuse to print.
Third party ink companies have options here. One thing they could do is reverse-engineer the security chip, and make compatible ones that say, "Actually, I'm full." The problem with this is that laws like Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) potentially makes this into a felony punishable by a five-year prison sentence and a $500k fine, for a first offense.
DMCA 1201 bans bypassing "an effective means of access control" to a copyrighted work. So if HP writes a copyrighted "I'm empty" program for its security chip and then adds some kind of access restriction to prevent you from dumping and reverse-engineering that program, you can end up a felon, thanks to the DMCA.
Another countermove is to harvest security chips out of dead cartridges that have been sent overseas as e-waste (one consequence of HP's $10,000/gallon ink racket is that it generates mountains of immortal, toxic e-waste that mostly ends up poisoning poor countries in the global south). These can be integrated into new cartridges, or remanufactured ones.
In practice, ink companies do all of this and more, and total normie HP printer owners go to extremely improbable lengths to find third party ink cartridges and figure out how to use them. It turns out that even people who find technology tinkering intimidating or confusing or dull can be motivated to learn and practice a lot of esoteric tech stuff as an alternative to paying $10,000/gallon for colored water.
HP has lots of countermoves for this. One truly unhinged piece of fuckery is to ask Customs and Border Patrol to block third-party ink cartridges with genuine HP security chips that have been pried loose from e-waste shipments. HP claims that these are "counterfeits" (because they were removed and re-used without permission), even though they came out of real HP cartridges, and CBP takes them at their word, seizing shipments.
Even sleazier: HP pushes out fake security updates to its printers. You get a message telling you there's an urgent security update, you click OK, and your printer shows you a downloading/installing progress bar and reboots itself. As far as you can tell, nothing has changed. But these aren't "security" updates, they're updates that block third-party ink, and HP has designed them not to kick in for several months. That way, HP owners who get tricked into installing this downgrade don't raise hell online and warn everyone else until they've installed it too, and it's too late:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer
This is the infectious pathogen business model: one reason covid spread so quickly was that people were infectious before they developed symptoms. That meant that the virus could spread before the spreader knew they had it. By adding a long fuse to its logic bomb, HP greatly increases the spread of its malware.
But life finds a way. $10,000/gallon ink is an irresistible target for tinkerers, security researchers and competitors. Necessity may be the mother of invention, but the true parent of jaw-dropping ingenuity is callous, sadistic greed. That's why America's army of prisoners are the source of so many of the most beautiful and exciting forms of innovation seen today:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/09/king-rat/#mother-of-invention
Despite harsh legal penalties and the vast resources of HP, third-party ink continues to thrive, and every time HP figures out how to block one technique, three even cooler ones pop up.
Last week, Jay Summet published a video tearing down a third-party ink cartridge compatible with an HP 61XL:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0ya184uaTE
The third-party cartridge has what appears to be a genuine HP security chip, but it is overlaid with a paper-thin, flexible, adhesive-backed circuit board that is skinny enough that the cartridge still fits in an HP printer.
This flexible circuit board has its own little microchip. Summet theorizes that it is designed to pass the "are you a real HP cartridge" challenge pass to the security chip, but to block the followup "are you empty or full?" message. When the printer issues that challenge, the "man in the middle" chip answers, "Oh, I'm definitely full."
In their writeup, Hackaday identifies the chip as "a single IC in a QFN package." This is just so clever and delightful:
https://hackaday.com/2024/09/28/man-in-the-middle-pcb-unlocks-hp-ink-cartridges/
Hackaday also notes that HP CEO Enrique J Lores recently threatened to brick any printer discovered to be using third-party ink:
https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2024/01/hp-ceo-blocking-third-party-ink-from-printers-fights-viruses/
As William Gibson famously quipped, "the future is here, it's just not evenly distributed." As our enshittification-rich environment drives more and more companies to evolve into rent-seeking enterprises through printerinisation, HP offers us a glimpse of the horrors of the late enshittocene.
It's just as Orwell prophesied: "If you want a picture of the future, imagine a HP installing malware on your printer to force you to spend $10,000/gallon on ink – forever."
Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/30/life-finds-a-way/#ink-stained-wretches
Image: Jay Summet https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0ya184uaTE
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tear you apart
》 mob boss! p.sh x fem. ballerina! reader
》 wc: 3.3k
》 plot: a powerful mob boss becomes dangerously distracted by a captivating ballerina, leading him to abandon an important business deal because of his new obsession. Determined to regain his focus, he confronts her one night after a show, only to find himself even deeper entangled in his desire—and a conflict that could jeopardize everything.
》 content: swan lake ballet, ballerina!reader, mob boss! seonghwa, dom! seonghwa, gloved finger-fucking?? eventual smut
🎧 tear you apart- she wants revenge, sour switchblade- elita, into the woods- bragolin
It was now the final act of the show. Rothbart was defeated, his dark powers broken, and the swan maidens were free at last. In the soft glow of the stage, you and Siegfried danced together, your movements light and delicate, like drifting feathers. Each step felt weightless as you floated through the scene, surrounded by the gentle swell of the orchestra and the dreamy, pearlescent backdrop that bathed everything in a soft, otherworldly light. This was the most serene moment of the entire performance—yet your heart raced wildly in your chest.
Throughout the entire show, a sense of unease gripped you, following your every movement on stage. No matter where you turned or what role you played, you felt his eyes on you, that same piercing, unrelenting gaze that had been following you all season.
Park Seonghwa always sat in the same seat, just a little off-center in the orchestra, ensuring he had the best view of you. Like clockwork, he was here every Saturday night, with his hair slicked back with precision, dressed in a long, black coat that skimmed the floor, and his leather-gloved hands resting motionless on his knees. His eyes followed you all over the stage, studying your every move, every tweak of your brow, his plump lips parted in fascination. His unblinking, stone-cold expression sent shivers down your spine, and yet, you couldn’t deny the intrigue it sparked in you. His observance of you, so focused and ceaseless, made you feel powerful—seen. As if, in his eyes, you were the only ballerina on that stage, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. You almost looked forward to seeing him in the audience every night, that is, until some whisperings from the other ballerinas during dress rehearsal rattled you.
"A mobster? Really? I thought those only existed in Scorsese movies," one ballerina laughed softly, her eyes darting nervously to the corner where he sometimes lingered after performances.
"It's true!" another whispered eagerly. "He's part of the Park crime family. Remember when they started cracking down on drug trafficking? Then they suddenly dropped all charges. I heard he paid off half the force. And now—well, I hear he’s eyeing the theater as a front for money laundering."
There was more truth to their rumors than they realized. After his father’s sudden departure, Seonghwa had inherited the mantle, becoming the head of the Park family business—a role he’d taken on with cold, unerring resolve. He was trusted to be the new, pragmatic decision-maker, one who wold keep the family business running smoothly. Everything had been going according to plan, right down to choosing an old, run-down theater on the outskirts of town as his next investment.
It was a simple acquisition, one that should have been handled quickly. But one evening, he found himself sitting in the darkened theater, watching intently as you stepped onto the stage in your pearly white tutu, your sculpted legs covered in thick stockings, twirling on your experienced tippy toes, forcing him to wonder how you can move so gracefully while doing something that seemed so painful.
Seonghwa never thought much of performance art; it simply wasn’t his world. His world was dark, brutal, and unforgiving. But from the first graceful movement, and the beautiful melody from the live orchestra, he was captivated with the world of the Swan Lake. You moved with such elegance and emotion that he couldn’t look away, each gesture leaving him more entranced than the last. From that night on, he returned every evening you performed, ignoring his obligations just to see you dance. He became infatuated with the beauty and artistry he hadn’t known could exist.
The original plan was simple: aquire the theater, reshape it into something profitable, and then use the profits to conceal earnings. But now, the thought of disrupting your world was unbearable. Reluctantly, he abandoned the deal, his priorities now twisted by an enchantment he resented.
From that very first performance, you unknowingly unraveled the careful fabric of his plans. Seonghwa found himself slipping away from his duties week after week, drawn back to that same old theater. His associates began to worry, questioning his judgement, but he couldn’t help it. He told himself it was just a curiosity or distraction—anything but the truth. You had enchanted him, woven yourself into his thoughts so deeply that he couldn’t bring himself to go through with the acquisition. Every time he saw you, he was reminded of what he stood to lose.
His associates were quick to notice his shift, whispering about his lack of judgment and uncharacteristic indecision. They urged him to reconsider, to stay grounded—but he felt himself slipping. Trouble was on the horizon; he could sense it. Part of him loathed you for the hold you had over him, for making him slack off from his responsibilities. Yet, night after night, he was drawn back, helpless against the spell you’d cast, unable to break free, and unwilling to let go.
Seonghwa knew he couldn’t keep living like this. His soul was burning hopelessly, and he needed to put out this fire fast.
—
It was quiet now, the theater emptying as the final notes of the orchestra still seemed to hang faintly in the air. You slipped into your dressing room, exhausted yet exhilarated, the glow of the performance still warming you as you changed out of your costume. Carefully, you removed your stage makeup, wiping away the traces of the Swan Queen. The transformation always felt strange, trading feathers and grace for the ordinary routine of going home.
You packed your things slowly, placing each item into your bag with a practiced rhythm, already looking forward to the calm of your apartment. But as you reached for your coat, a prickle of unease returned. It was that lingering feeling, the sensation of being watched, that had haunted you all night.
The silence shattered with a sudden, firm knock on the door, catching you off guard. Your heart raced, and before you could even gather yourself to respond, the door creaked open, slow and deliberate. His face appeared in the dim light, and you caught your breath. It was him.
Seonghwa stepped in just enough for his figure to fill the doorway, his familiar dark coat draping around him like a shadow. His expression was unreadable, the same cold, composed look he always wore, yet his eyes held a strange intensity that made you feel hot.
Your heart pounded as he stood there, with his gaze fixed intently on you. You felt a flicker of fear—a quiet, instinctive warning. Everything about him radiated power, a kind of quiet danger that you couldn’t ignore. Yet, having him so close to you now felt exhilarating, almost like you were waiting for him to knock on your door.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” He apologized, his sharp features now softening in your presence, hoping to disarm you.
“I’m sorry, c-can I help you with something?”
He paced around your small dressing room, his eyes lingering on the little details—your stage makeup scattered across the vanity, the photo frames of other ballerinas lining the walls. Anxiety twisted in your stomach as you watched him, still unsure of why he was here. Then, he turned to you with an unreadable expression, extending his gloved hand. "I just wanted to introduce myself properly," he said, his voice smooth but distant, “Park Seonghwa. I’m from a private equity firm. I know the owner, Hongjoong.” Shakily, you reached out your hand, the leather of his glove feeling cold and unnatural against your skin. You suppressed a shiver as his grip lingered just a second longer than you expected.
“I’m Y/N.”
"Y/N...Congratulations on being this season’s Swan Queen," he continued, his voice low and deliberate. "You’ve done very well. You must be very pleased with yourself."
You managed a quiet thank you, though the words felt strange on your lips, your usual confidence faltering under his watchful gaze. His praise should have flattered you, but instead, it left you feeling oddly exposed, like he saw more than you intended to show.
He released your hand, but the strange, lingering sensation stayed with you, leaving you both captivated and nervous.
Feeling faint, you sat down on your vanity chair. "So, you know Hongjoong?" you asked, searching for some logic behind his sudden presence.
"I do," he replied smoothly, though there was a slight glint in his eye that betrayed him. "We’ve been discussing a potential business venture together."
The truth, however, was a little more complicated. Seonghwa had met Hongjoong only once, barely enough to call him an acquaintance. From the start, Hongjoong hadn’t seemed eager to hand over his only asset to a man of Seonghwa’s reputation, especially not when rumors swirled about his intention to repurpose the theater into something as mundane as a car wash to serve as a front for his family’s business. But Seonghwa knew how to persuade, and when he named his price, Hongjoong’s reluctance began to waver.
That first night, they’d arranged to negotiate the deal, and Seonghwa had come prepared to secure the theater with his usual finesse. But Hongjoong was running late. Growing tired from standing in the lobby all evening, Seonghwa decided to sit in an empty seat during the show only to rest his feet, but your elegant movements captivated him, and made him forget who he was and why he was there.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between you in a way that made the small room feel even smaller. Your breath hitched as his intense gaze softened slightly, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The air between you felt charged, the warmth of his presence mingling with the lingering cold from his leather gloves.
“But I’m not here to talk about that,” He said, towering over you, “I could actually use your help in something.”
There was something odd yet inticing about his request. What could he, a possible mob boss, want from someone like you?
“And what might that be?” You asked, your throat suddenly feeling dry.
He was so close to you now that you could pick up the warming notes of his cologne— spices, sandalwood, and a hint of citrus. You’d seen his face a thousand times before, always shrouded in the dim lighting of the audience, his expression always stoic and muted. But now, with the light catching the sharp angles of his cheekbones and his plush and perfect lips just inches away from you, he was utterly captivating. You couldn’t look away.
"You see, I have this problem," he said, pacing slowly around you, his voice steady but laced with something unspoken. The air shifted each time he moved, the chill of his absence replaced by an intoxicating warmth as he drew near again.
"A problem?" you echoed, your voice a little breathless, trying to focus as his reflection loomed behind you in the mirror.
"Mm." He stopped directly behind you, lowering his head closer to the nape of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. "It’s you," he admitted, his tone dropping into something dangerously intimate.
Your heart skipped a beat. "Me?"
Seonghwa straightened himself, meeting your wide-eyed gaze in the mirror, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smirk. "You’re making it very hard for me to focus on my job," he said. His words were as smooth as they were direct. "And when a man like me gets distracted… it causes complications."
He moved again, standing to your side now, his hand resting lightly on the back of your chair. The closeness was almost unbearable, every nerve in your body hyper-aware of his presence.
"So," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, "I thought perhaps you could help me resolve this little… issue of mine."
Your mind raced to comprehend the suggestion wrapped in his words. The way he looked at you left no room for misinterpretation, his meaning clear without being crass. You felt a sudden pulse between your legs, forcing you to squeeze your thighs tighter.
"And how exactly would I… help?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Seonghwa tilted his head, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "You’re a clever woman," he said, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your shoulder with deliberate care. "I think you already know."
—
You sat perched on your dressing table, forced to see yourself reflected in the mirror. There was a nervous flutter in your stomach as Seonghwa loomed behind you, his broad shoulders and low eyes making your breath hitch. You watched as he parted your thighs before eagerly ripping at the center seam of your stocking, revealing your glistening cunt to you both. Before you could react, he brought down his gloved hand, tapping on your pulsing clit a few times before pressing down in slow and small circles.
The coldness of the leather made you gasp, your heartbeat spiraling in excitement. You could see your slick coating his fingers, bringing a faint shine to his black gloves.
“Such a fat little pussy,” he breathed into your neck, the sudden warmth making a few hairs stand at your nape. He lightly slapped your cunt again, his mouth watering at your chubby, wet folds. “Didn’t think such a sweet little ballerina had something like this between her legs.”
You couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as you took in your reflection, hardly recognizing the scantily clad woman before you. You pressed your eyes shut as he continued pulling a string of shaky, breathless moans from your lips.
“Let’s see how well this little pussy can take me, hm?” He challenged, refusing to wait for your response before inserting a leathered digit into your wet walls. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, struggling to wrap around the thickness of his glove. Seonghwa chuckled at your tightness.
“Please,” You begged, tightly holding onto his working arm. But the desperation in your voice only egged him on. He thrust in a merciless rhythm, the squelching sounds from your arousal sending blood down to his groin.
“Please what dear? You want more?” Seonghwa grinned devilishly before stuffing in another finger, the sudden stretch sending a mix of pain and pleasure to your core. He worked you open at a brutal pace, soaking in your sweet moans as you gripped onto him tighter.
You were slowly coming undone, your knees quivering and threatening to cave in. You felt his hand grip onto your inner thigh, holding you open as much as possible for him. It was then that you fluttered your eyes open, only to find his gaze already locked onto yours in the mirror. You felt a twist in your stomach like he’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You quickly realized that Seonghwa had been watching you in the mirror, his gaze unwavering as he took in every tear tracing your scorned red cheek, the delicate furrow of your brow, and the way your plush, pouty lips let out the softest, most beautiful whines he’d ever heard. Just as enchanting as your expressions were on stage, they were even more alluring here as he ravished you at his will.
His fingers were so much deeper now, hitting you in all the right places, until the tension inside of you snapped and you finally let go all over his gloved fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You sputtered, watching your wetness drip down his gloves. Exhaustion suddenly took over you, forcing your head to fall against his chest.
“I hope you don’t think we’re finished here,” He whispered, his soft, full lips feathering over your ear lobe, “There’s still a lot of things I need you to do.”
—
You were sprawled out over the table now, your top completely discarded, leaving you in just your ripped stockings. Seonghwa liked the stockings you wore on stage. They were so pearly and smooth, and he almost felt bad for ruining them this way. He leaned down and peppered a trail of kisses under your ear, down to your collarbone, lingering over your hardened peaks briefly, before continuing down to your pelvis.
You felt a wave of heat spread over you as he kissed around the outside of your cunt before spreading your lips with his fingers, reuniting you with the coldness of the leather. He dragged his long, warm tongue over your hot slit, groaning once your essence reached his tastebuds.
“You taste just as sweet as you look,” He praised, before wrapping his lips over your swollen clit. He sucked and pulled, swallowing every bit of juice you offered him hungrily.
Your back arched in bliss, your hips rolling as he gleefully lapped away at your cunt. He pressed his strong hands down your inner thighs to keep you still, your puffy pussy now spread completely open for him to devour. He savored every drop of you, like a predator that spent weeks catching its prey.
Seonghwa told himself he’d finally be rid of this infatuation after tonight and return to his duties with no more distractions, but how could he now after seeing you like this? With your body so willing, the sheer afterglow hitting your face and collarbones, the uneasy rise of your chest, and those lustful, messy moans? It all enticed him even further, and he worried he’d never be able to stay away.
Seonghwa was at his peak now, and he couldn’t hold out any longer. He quickly sprang up at his feet, the sounds of his belt unbuckling making your core throb with anticipation. His angry, red tip pressed against your slit, making you gasp at how hot and hard he felt.
Seonghwa pushed himself in slowly, inch by inch until his shaft was completely sucked in by you. He cursed at your tightness and moved his hips slowly, allowing you to adjust to his girth.
“Fuck!” You cried out, curling your toes as he plunged deeper into you. He fucked you hard and rough, determined to take all his anger and frustrations out on you so that he could return to his stoic self. He hated you for throwing him off his game, and he still held onto that hope that he’d finally let go of all his pent up emotions once he finishes fucking your brains out. He just needed to get it out of his system.
You winced at his tight grasp on your hips. His pace was brutal, the sounds of your dressing table rocking against the wall overpowering your desperate screams, yet you refused to open your eyes. You didn’t want to see his face while he thrusted into you with an unspoken vendetta. His gaze alone made you feel even more hot and frazzled.
Suddenly, you felt his hand creep to the back of your head, pulling your head up by a fistful of strands. You took in a sharp breath, the pain of your pulled hair forcing you to open your eyes at last.
“Look at how good you fucking take me,” He grunted, pushing your head down farther to help you get a good look at his cock stretching out your swollen cunt. “ ‘Take me just like a good girl.”
Your face grew hot as you watched yourself take him in, eyes bulging at his thick cock that was decorated with pulsing veins and twitched inside of you so deliciously. So drunk off his cock, you found yourself rambling nonsense as he fucked you into oblivion. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me so good!”
You felt you both were melting into each other, your breathing growing erratic and unsteady until you finally lost your composure.
Seonghwa pulled out of you, spilling himself over your wet cunt as he sucked in a breath, making sure to milk out every last drop of his seed. You couldn’t help but watch as he spread his thick, white cum over your swollen pussy lips, your body twitching from the sensitivity.
When you looked up at him, you found his face flushed as red as yours, his mouth slightly agape, with an expression that caught you off guard. The moody, confident alpha male who had entered your room now seemed unsteady, his composure cracked, leaving him looking utterly broken and confused.
He leaned down, his breath mingling with yours for a fleeting moment before his lips finally pressed against yours. The kiss was seamless, as though the two of you had been meant to move together in this way all along. The warmth of his touch ignited something between you, a spark that quickly became a flame, and a flame that would soon become a raging fire that could never be put out.
Seonghwa's desire for you only intensified in that moment. Whatever his plans had been before tonight, they now felt irrelevant, tangled up in the web of feelings he could no longer suppress. He didn’t know what this meant for his current predicament���how this would complicate everything—but one thing was certain: he wouldn’t be letting you go anytime soon. He’s marked his destiny by letting himself be engulfed in the flames.
#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa smut#seonghwa scenarios#park seonghwa smut#park seonghwa#park seonghwa x reader
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eavesdroppin.' - where atsumu can't help but hear about your crush on him.
(700wc) “____, please, for the love of god, shut up about him, if you talk about his piss blonde head again i will deflate the volleyball the team signed and stomp all over it,” akaashi complains, shooting you a very tired and very defeated look.
“no- but you don’t get it! he’s just so…he’s so dreamy,” you sigh, unknowingly smiling at the mere mention of his achievements, “and confident in his serves. do you see the way he’s been ranked number one for such a long time now?” you bury your face into your hands, so absolutely enamored with the black jackals setter that you don’t know what to do with yourself.
“i’ve heard the whole spiel about this so many times already,” your friend gives up on trying to see from your point of view if you’re going to keep hiding the crush that every knew atsumu reciprocated already.
“but you have to tell me how i can get closer to him!” you almost whine, shaking your friend back and forth. “if i can’t even become friends with him and we’re literally friend’s with bo? ‘kaashi, that looks horrible for me.”
“uh huh. and when did i care?”
“you’re such a bad friend. can’t even help me score a date with a man i’m hopelessly pining over.”
“you’re right about the down bad part,” akaashi deadpans, sighing and flipping through his most recent release of zom’bish. “i’ve said this already- just take him here, to onigiri miya.”
“but he’s used to that! I can’t have him see his brother with me!” you gesture discretely at the kitchen, where osamu was busying himself with orders.
your friend rolls his eyes and looks up at you. “what’s so bad with him seeing you and his brother?”
“I..”the words die on your tongue, no excuses left to give. “it would be bad. for me. because like—he’s already been there a billion times and probably tried everything on that goddamn menu!”
atsumu nodded to himself from where he sat. he did know the whole menu.
“how about this,” your friend starts, and you get your hopes up because akaashi keiji has always been a genius plan-maker. “you ask him out first.”
okay, maybe not.
akaashi continues,“how about you ask him out instead of telling me about how excited he is on court and how good his sets look and how perfect he is at everything and see how things go from there.” you shake your head furiously, immediately rejecting his offer, and the man grumbles, thinking back to high-school, “you never played against him in court, that’s probably why you like him so much.”
“he was good in high school. a bit more reckless. but still good.” you remember. “you have to help me.” you pause. “give me a reason not to like him.”
“he’s egotistical.” akaashi responds immediately.
“he’s not! he’s competent,” you replace without missing a beat, “so he has a right to think he’s good at volleyball when he really is one of the best.”
“he’s dramatic.”
“it’s more like a good dramatic. like, i wouldn’t want to be around a brick wall all day.”
“then ask him out.”
“okay," you blurt.
akaashi almost sighs in relief. “you will?”
you wince at the sudden predicament you found yourself in, but after hearing how happy akaashi was, you figured it wouldn't hurt.
“only if you promise to send me the next chapter of zom’bish to me. early.” the manga artist groans. it’s almost like he knew that you were going to do something at a price.
“okay, fine. ask him out. right now.”
“not-not right now!” you defend, eyes widening in horror.
he shrugs, and tells you, “right now, or i’m telling you about your ridiculous and unimportant feelings for him.”
“they’re not ridiculous! or unimportant!”
“uh huh.” he agrees unconvincingly, “whatever, i’m leaving. next time, be more careful about where you talk about him.”
you frown, confused as you pocket the bill he places on the table, and you continue to stay confused when he turns around to seat behind him. “all yours, miya.”
your heart drops six feet under when atsumu turns to grins at you, taking your friend’s abandoned seat as he peels off his sunglasses and hat.
“i heard everythin’, ya’know," and the setter leans over to put his white cap on your head, running a hand through his hair. "couldn't help eavesdroppin.' "
--
singlehandedly might revive my insanity for atsumu can you tell i like confident men lol...
#anime#manga#haikyuu#hq#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff#atsumu miya#osamu miya#miya twins#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu fluff#haikyuu imagines#hq imagines#miya atsumu#hq atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyu fluff
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Red Lace & Holiday Cheer
Thank you anon for this prompt!
Pairing: (ex)pornstar!joel miller x f!reader (established relationship)
Summary: While visiting him at work, you decide to give Joel his Christmas present early.
Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, fingering, reader wears lingerie
WC: 4K
Roommates Masterlist
The bar was loud.
It was three days before Christmas. Students on break from college had come home to visit their families for the holidays but the first chance they got, they made plans to connect with friends they hadn't seen since summer. The entire street was packed with twenty-something year olds, every bar was filled to the brim, including the one Joel owned.
You had helped him decorate it for the holidays just two weeks prior. A small Christmas tree with chunky, multi-colored lights sat in the front. Twinkling white lights framed each large window and a garland was wrapped around the door. You even managed to find a spot for a couple large wreaths above the bar.
From your spot on the dance floor with Maria, you could just barely see Tommy's head. He was pouring drinks as fast as possible, hardly giving himself a chance to breathe. Surprisingly, Joel was no where to be found. If you had to guess, he was either bringing up a keg or doing his rounds on the floor, checking in with patrons and seeing if they needed anything while also keeping an eye out for trouble makers.
He had really grown into the role as a bar owner. It seemed like the perfect fit after he had quit the adult film industry. Not only was he his own boss, but he got to work with his brother. Your only complaint was the long nights, although you and Maria tried to frequent the bar at least once a week to see them while they worked. Typically, there was plenty of time to talk, but the week of Christmas had the bar feeling like more of a nightclub.
"Where's Joel?" Maria shouted over the music. You fanned your sweaty chest with your hand and scanned the crowded room.
"I don't know! Don't think I've seen him all night!" you yelled back. You checked the time and frowned. You always saw him at least once, even when it's busy, before midnight. He always sought you out, no matter what. You turned back to Maria with a look of concern.
"I'm gonna go see if I can find him!"
She nodded and gave you a thumbs up before turning her back, still swaying along with the music.
You pushed your way through the crowd, making a face when drunk frat boys or some familiar looking locals who were trying their luck with the college girls accidentally bumped into you. After what felt like an eternity of almost getting beer sloshed down your bright red dress from clueless patrons, you finally bellied up to the bar. You leaned over the edge of the wood, catching Tommy's eye. He nodded in your direction and you sat back on your heels as you waited for him to finish up at the other end of the bar.
"What you need, sugar?" Tommy yelled over the noise. Your gaze flickered down to his cheesy Christmas shirt and grinned.
"Is that thing getting you any extra tips?"
He shook his head and you laughed. "Nah, but it's fun. Tryin' to get into the spirit!"
"It was Maria's idea, wasn't it?" you yelled.
"Hundred percent!" he shouted back. You heard others off to your right trying to get his attention so you cut to the chase.
"Where's Joel?"
"Office! He was on the phone with some vendor last I saw 'em."
You nodded and shot him a thumbs up before you began your second journey, although mercifully it was shorter. His office was just down a short hallway behind the bar. Still, the crowd was thickest and rowdiest right where you were trying to walk. You had almost made it unscathed when you heard a curse and felt a splash of some cold liquid down your arm.
"Shit!" you exclaimed. You began to flick your arm of any excess when a young man's voice shouted out to you.
"I'm sorry!" he slurred, but when you looked up and your eyes locked, a slow smirk stretched across his face. He couldn't have been more than twenty-two, surrounded by his buddies who were giving him little shoves in your direction. He took a few steps forward and held out his hand.
"I'm Chris," he offered. "Lemme buy you a drink, make it up to you."
His eyes slithered up and down your body, clearly appreciating the short red Christmas dress you had chosen to wear that night.
"Thanks, but I'm fine," you said, giving him a wave and turning back towards the bar. He tapped your shoulder and you swiveled around.
"C'mon, it's the least I could do. Almost ruined that gorgeous dress of yours," he tried while licking his lips.
You sighed and crossed your arms.
"I'm dating the guy who owns this place. I can drink for free," you snapped, patience growing thin when you added, "And have anyone thrown out."
Chris whistled and rose his hands in defeat.
"Alright, suit yourself."
He backed away towards his friends and you made quick work of pushing through the remaining crowd to get back behind the bar. The moment you stepped foot in the small hallway, it already felt calmer. You sashayed a little drunkenly past the breakroom and employee bathroom before stopping at the closed door at the end of the hall that had a stocking hanging from it with Joel's name painted in glitter. With excitement tingling under your skin, you rapped your knuckles softly against the wood and pressed your ear against the door.
"It's open!"
The old door squeaked on its hinges when you opened it and slipped inside, smiling when you saw Joel hunched over his desk, scribbling something on an invoice. His office wasn't much to look at; dingy old laminate floors, a desk that looked like it was from the seventies, two tall file cabinets that were overflowing and shoved in a corner, and one measly light above your head that had one bulb burnt out. But it was peaceful. It was quiet. And by that point, it reminded you of Joel. His cologne hung in the air, even when he hadn't been in the room for hours. On top of one filing cabinet was a decorative Christmas tree and on the back of his door was a wreath, both of which you put in there when he wasn't paying attention.
He finally looked up and you saw the tension instantly drain from his face when he saw it was you.
"Hey," he said softly, dropping his pen so he could stand to greet you, chair groaning from the loss. He rounded the desk and pulled you into his arms. Your mouths sought each other out like magnets and you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck with a contented sigh when you finally felt his lips on you once again.
"Where have you been?" you pouted, gazing up at him while still hanging around his neck. His hands flattened against your back, the material of your dress bunching a little and exposing your legs even more.
"Been busy workin'. Sorry, darlin'. Lost track of time," he told you, but his eyes were drifting down your dress. "You been here this whole time wearin' this thing?"
"What? You don't like it?" you teased.
Joel scoffed and shook his head. "Like it a little too much. What's the occasion?" He finally dragged his eyes back up to meet yours.
"The occasion is it's Christmas," you said while your fingers began to fiddle with the short hairs on the back of his neck.
"Christmas ain't for a few more days."
"Well, maybe I wanted to give you your gift early," you smirked. Joel groaned in the back of his throat and pulled you closer so your body was pressed tightly against his. You began to pepper kisses along his neck, pausing when you reached his pulse to whisper, "Unless, that is, you're too busy."
"Lock the fuckin' door," he said lowly. A shiver rolled down your spine and you spun out of his hold to do exactly as he asked.
"Can't just wait, huh?" Joel scolded while he undid his belt and dropped it to the floor. You bit your lip, heart skipping excitedly in your chest as you backed up towards his desk. You stopped when you felt the edge press into the backs of your thighs and grinned.
"Sorry. I just thought you'd really want to open it now." You reached one arm behind you and slowly tugged at your zipper. Joel's eyes darted to lock onto the movement while his hands worked on opening his pants. You could tell he was loving every second of your little show. His lips were parted, breath coming in short pants, and his neck was already growing flush.
When your dress felt loose, you knew you reached the end of the zipper. Your chest heaved with anticipation before finally wiggling out of your dress and letting it fall to your feet.
You weren't lying. You really did have something for him under your clothes, although scraps of material like a see-through red teddy with a plunging neckline was difficult to define as anything substantial.
His eyes immediately bugged out of his head.
"Oh, Christ," he choked out. You giggled, pleased to have taken him by surprise. You hardly ever had the upper hand in the bedroom, not with the experience he brought by being an ex-pornstar, but on that day, you did.
His face paled when he saw your body in that teddy. Well, considering how much skin he could actually see through it, it hardly felt like you were wearing much at all, but Joel didn't seem to see it that way. He was absolutely hypnotized, completely unable to look away. His eyes greedily raked over every inch of you and you smiled to yourself when you realized he hadn't even yet noticed the panties you were wearing were crotchless.
"You like it?" you asked when his gawking had gone on long enough. You twirled so he could see the back, his throat bobbing when he saw the way your ass was exposed in your barely there panties. Joel forced his eyes up when you stood before him expectantly, feeling so excited and nervous that you had to bounce from foot to foot.
"You look beautiful," he finally whispered. You grinned and reached out both hands for him, laughing a little when he stumbled over his own feet to join you. As thrilled as you were to throw Joel off his game, it incited something deep within you when he took control again. He crowded you against his desk and dragged his hands fucking everywhere. Down your arms, over your stomach, across your back, feeling the lacy material under his big hands. And only when one hand cupped your breast and the other reached down to squeeze your ass did your own breath get stolen away.
"You're a bad girl," he murmured against the shell of your ear. Your eyelids fluttered closed as heat pooled between your legs, torturous and aching. "Wearin' this all night while I sat back here fightin' on the phone 'bout goddamn shipping rates?"
A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth but it quickly melted into a gasp when his teeth pinched your skin, right under your ear.
"Joel," you moaned his name, tipping your head back while his mouth dragged down the column of your throat. You reached between your bodies, fingers searching for the inevitable bulge you knew you would find, and smiling to yourself when you felt his cock jump under your touch.
"Gonna let me fuck you?" you heard him ask. His lips trailed across your collarbone to begin their ascent up the opposite side of your neck. "Right here? In the back of a dirty bar?"
"I'd let you fuck me anywhere," you rasped, hopping up onto his desk and spreading your legs. He stepped between your knees, face buried against your throat and hips pressing stubbornly against your center as he continued to leave red marks across your chest and neck. He chuckled, the vibration from his voice sending shockwaves from your pulse point to the bottom of your stomach.
"Gonna hold you to that one day."
You were in a lust filled haze, completely absorbed with the way Joel kissed you, deep and messy and urgent, to notice when his hand traveled lower. His fingertips grazed between your legs, right where a thin strip of fabric should have been, but to his shock and delight, found nothing except your bare, leaking pussy.
"Fuck me," he groaned, leaning back to get a good look. He swiped his thumb through your slit and you whimpered, causing his dark eyes to snap up to yours with a deadly smirk.
"You liked this, huh?" His fingers spread your folds while your arms began to shake, propped up behind you and ready to collapse. "You liked dancin' around in that short dress, knowin' this soft little pussy was naked under there, waitin' for me to fuck her?"
"Mhm," was all you could muster. Not a single word could be formed in that moment when his middle finger prodded at your opening, testing you, before sinking inside. You tossed your head back with a shaky moan and spread your legs wider, encouraging him to continue, to give you more.
You could only imagine how you looked in that moment; elbows holding you up with your head hanging back between your shoulders in bliss, legs spread wide while wearing slutty Christmas lingerie across his desk as music thumped steadily through the walls. However it looked, though, was worth the hungry way Joel stared down at you with his hand working slowly between your thighs, one thick finger curling but purposely not touching the spot that made you come undone.
Your hips wiggled as you tried to chase his hand, desperate for him to give you what you needed, but he held you down, stilling your movements.
"Quit it."
"Joel," you whined, but he shook his head.
"This is my gift, remember?" he tutted.
He pulled out his finger and you huffed, frustrated. With heavy lidded eyes, you watched him pop the finger that was just inside of you into his mouth. He made a satisfied noise while reaching inside his pants. The second he pulled out his cock, your eyes drifted down and watched as he slowly stroked himself up and down.
You should have been used to him by then, but it never failed to send a wave of nerves through you when you saw the sheer size of him, something that served him very well in his old career and now something only you benefitted from.
One of his hands planted itself at your hip when he came to stand between your legs and he began to drag the tip of his cock through your arousal. You sighed and went to lay down flat across his desk, but he stopped you.
"Nuh uh. Want you to watch," he muttered. You caught his eye and your heart flipped in your chest at the look he gave you. You swallowed tightly and gave him a brief nod, confirming you would do as he asked. Then and only then did he drop his gaze to between your legs, spreading your lips with his thumbs to make room for the thick head of his cock to rest at your opening.
You watched together as he pressed forward ever so slightly, just barely kissing your pussy before pulling back entirely. He did it again and when he shifted back a second time, you gave him a pathetic little whine. His eyes darted back up to yours and he grinned.
"Be patient."
"C'mon, Joel... it's Christmas," you pouted. He chuckled, his stern facade fading, and shook his head.
"Alright," he breathed, and half a second later jut his hips forward, feeding you half his length in one pass. You gasped sharply and fell backwards onto his desk, unable to hold yourself up any longer.
He cursed under his breath, dragging himself back until just his tip remained sheathed inside you, then pushed forward once again, but that time he gave you every devastating inch of his impressive cock. You both gasped, sucking all the air out of the room with your heavy, quick panting as you each struggled to adjust.
"Goddamn," he murmured. Your eyes were squeezed shut, mouth agape as you focused on the stretch, but you pried them open so you could confirm he was just as wrecked as you felt.
"Oh, honey, you look fuckin' beautiful like this." His eyes were fixated on where you were connected, where red lace framed your exposed cunt. His dark eyes snapped up to yours when he very seriously added, "We're gonna get alotta use out of this gift, baby."
"That was the idea," you giggled breathlessly. There was a loud cheer through the walls when the song changed. It sounded like a bunch of guys right up against the bar, just twenty or thirty feet away who had no idea you were about to get fucked within an inch of your life.
"Good song," Joel said casually. He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly began to rock his hips. Your mind went quiet, not a single thought drifting through your head except for how good it felt when he bottomed out inside you.
He was gentle at first. He knew he was alot to take so he always started with shallow thrusts, paying close attention to your cues. When your thighs relaxed and your breathing evened out, that was when he began to give it to you faster. Harder. Deeper. It was only a few minutes until his hips slammed into yours so forcefully that it had your back arching and your hand scrambling to hold onto the edge of the desk above you.
"Fuck - fuck - fuck," he huffed, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips. You whined and squirmed across the desk, trying to catch your breath. One of Joel's hands pressed flat against the desk for leverage, the other roughly gripped your waist to hold you steady, and his eyes remained fixated on the way your body stretched to accommodate his size. Every single time, it amazed him.
A loud knock came from the door. Your eyes locked, his hips slowed, and you shook your head. You mouthed the word don't. He made a face but acquiesced, then continued to fuck you, just slower and quieter. A second loud knock came and an annoyed Tommy yelled out, "Joel? C'mon, man, we need more Coors."
"Have fuckin' Steve do it, I'm busy!" he shouted back. You scowled then stifled a moan when he ground himself against you, rubbing your clit with the coarse hairs at the base of his shaft.
"Steve's on break!"
Joel snarled and reared back, grabbing the underside of both your knees and tugging you close.
"Gimme five minutes!" he yelled, voice only slightly giving away your compromising position when it cracked near the end of his sentence.
"Five?" you whispered with a disappointed look.
"Ten! Ten minutes!"
Finally you heard Tommy grumble under his breath and retreat back down the hall.
"I'll make you come in five minutes," Joel panted with a cocky grin. He began to pummel into you harder once again, picking up right where he left off. "Wanted to bend you over and come all over that perfect ass, but I'll save that for next time."
You groaned and tilted your chin to the ceiling as you felt that familiar tightness begin to pull low in your belly. Joel shifted, adjusting the way he was standing between your legs, and you cried out when the tip of his cock began to stroke against that spot that had you seeing stars. Blindly, you reached out to hold onto something, but only ended up scattering unpaid invoices and receipts onto the floor.
Words failed you. Heat flared deep inside, bright hot flames roaring to life in mere seconds that had your muscles going rigid and your spine curling off the desktop. There was no warning. There was nothing you could do except give into the intense pleasure as you choked on your words.
"Oh, shit," Joel grunted, hand reaching between you to rub firm circles over your clit. "S-shit, you're gonna come," he gasped right as your cunt clamped down around him. You wailed out a broken version of his name, legs trembling around his waist. He quickly fell forward, his body covering yours, and your lips connected in messy, wild kisses. Seconds later and with a deep groan echoing inside your mouth, Joel came, filling you with his thick, hot release until his cock stopped twitching and a shudder shot through his entire body.
You whimpered Joel's name and that was when he realized you were shaking violently. With his chest still heaving, he propped himself onto his elbows and slid his cock from between your legs before gathering you up in his arms and holding you close, enveloping you with his warmth.
"I got you," he murmured over and over into your hair. You nodded weakly, head still buzzing and hands still shaking. Slowly, your eyes reopened. Your pulse began to slow and your breaths grew deeper each time you pulled in air. You nuzzled your face into his shoulder, sighing from the comforting strokes of his hand over your back.
"You okay?" he asked after a few quiet minutes. You nodded and took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne mixing with his deodorant calming your frayed nerves even more.
"That was... intense," you whispered, lips searching for his throat. Joel continued to soothingly rub your back.
"You did so good, baby."
You smiled and nipped gently at his skin. "Did you enjoy your present?"
Joel's chest rumbled with a soft chuckle before he responded.
"This little number was a beautiful gift, but I don't need any of it, you know that, right?" he asked. "All I want is you."
"Are you saying that all you want for Christmas is... me?" You grinned when you leaned back to look up at him hazily. Joel laughed at your corny joke and cupped your face with both his hands to pull you in for a tender kiss.
"Yeah," he murmured against your lips. "Man can't ask for much else when he's already got everythin' he needs in one perfect little package."
You wrapped your arms around his neck as your cheeks warmed from his compliment. "I love you," you told him earnestly. Every time he heard those words, it made him smile.
"I love you, too."
Right when he leaned down for another kiss, a loud knock cracked against the door.
"Joel! The Coors!"
"God-fuckin'-" Joel grumbled before shouting, "I'm comin' right now! Jesus Christ!"
His eyes found yours and he gave you an apologetic look.
"You gonna be alright? Just gimme a few minutes-"
"I'm good," you told him with a firm nod, then gave his chest a little shove, pushing him towards the door. "Go. You have a bar to run."
He tucked himself back into his pants with a hiss and swiveled around before locating a box of tissues and handing them to you.
"Lock the door after I leave. This," he dragged his finger up and down in the air, indicating your skimpy lingerie, "is just for me to see."
"Yes, sir," you giggled with your legs still dangling over the edge of his desk. He shook his head in disbelief and fixed his shirt before disappearing out into the hallway.
Slowly, you cleaned yourself up as best you could and fixed the teddy before slipping your dress back on, concealing your little secret once again. You had your hand on the doorknob, poised to leave, when a thought occurred to you. Quickly, you shimmied your panties down your legs and hurried behind his desk to drop them in one of his drawers. You smiled proudly to yourself and headed back towards the door, already planning what new set you should surprise him with for Valentine's Day.
Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️
#joel x reader smut#joel miller the last of us#joel miller au#joel miller/reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#joel the last of us#roommates fic
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PSA to printed zine makers
As a 37 year old who's been running a sole proprietorship for the last 10+ years, I just want everyone who is planning to run a fandom project that involves accepting money for printing & shipping costs to know that you're actually running a small business and you need to plan for taxes. It doesn't matter if you don't make any profit: that is business income and the IRS will see it as such if you get audited.
If you only take enough money in to cover the cost of printing & shipping then you can write that off as a business expense and probably not pay taxes on it, But in order for that to fly you actually have to do business accounting, especially if you're doing it at scale. Like, you can probably skate by without reporting a $500 project; I absolutely would not fucking risk it with a $5000 project.
Back when I was producing shows there were years when I was where I made $20k in ticket sales only to turn around and immediately pay $18k to my performers. I only made $2k for myself, but I had to report the entire $20k, because it was ALL INCOME. (I only paid taxes on the $2000, because that's how writing off expenses works!)
Yeah this is boring grownup shit and I'm getting my boring grownup fingers all over your fun fandom, but boring grownups doing boring grownup things are the reason fandom spaces exist at all (paying for servers is deeply boring), and I'm way more fun than an audit
#don't find this out the hard way#get a small business license if you want to do it more than once#small business taxes are annoying#but getting audited is way worse#this advice is US-centric but the gist applies in other countries too#fandom#zines#also have contracts#if money is changing hands you gotta make that shit official
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Imagine Sauron (Annatar) being unable to resist your allure as you work on the rings…
Distance. He repeated to himself. Although he did not understand why it was necessary when he chose to ignore the warning and step closer to you.
He had donned a new face with a new name - Annatar - but it did little to fade the pull he felt to you as ‘Halbrand’. As fate would have it, your journey drew you to Eregion to aid Celebrimbor with his crafts.
Or perhaps you were simply drawn to where Sauron would be?
A part of him longed to tell you the truth but he had a larger plan that relied on secrecy. He could not risk you speaking with Galadriel nor did he wish to cause you harm. And so, he chose to keep the knowledge to himself.
He watched as you picked up a glittering gold band forged for one of the dwarf lords. One of seven. Crafted by Celebrimbor, they were perfect. Touched by his hands, there would be malice and a darkness so deep-rooted.
But jewelled by your fingers? They would have enough light to remind him that not all he touches is true evil.
“Have you chosen a stone for this one?” He asked.
You inspected the fine craftsmanship. “Perhaps a sapphire.” You said rather distracted. He gave you a small musing hum and you turned to meet his eyes. “You disagree?”
“I merely think a ruby would complement this particular piece.”
“Do enlightenment me, Lord of Gifts.” You challenged.
He almost laughed at the offence you took. But he merely stepped behind and touched an elbow with one hand, raising it a little higher. His free hand caught your chin, fingers gently lifting your head to tilt upwards to see the gold band twinkle under a ray of sun.
It was intimate and he wrestled with his impulsive urges. To kiss you in this moment would be too easy. But again, he could not. All he could do was savour this moment with you.
“The sunlight catches the band casting it in a glow of power. A ruby would emphasize such a notion beneath the mountain.” He said, lips drawing impossibly close to your ear. He noticed the prickling of your skin and the way your breath hitched.
“Power kissed by sunlight.” You whispered, realising his vision. Head turning to his once more, he saw the way your eyes flickered to his lips for a fleeting second.
It appeared that the pull he felt was mutual, drawing you to him in equal strength. You were drifting closer and closer and-
“Wonderful news! We have just received word from the realm of Men.” Celebrimbor announced as he walked into the forge.
With a sharp breath, Sauron pulled away just as you had done the same. He took note of how you quickly busied yourself in the work once more.
Composing himself, he stood up and smiled at the ring maker who had not noticed the spark rushing for cover.
He should have been more careful.
“This is truly good to hear.” He told Celebrimbor and led the elf away from your workspace. “How soon can we extend an invitation for their visit?”
~ More imagines here ~
A/n: Written at 12am because I have no regard for waking early tomorrow for work. When the writing bug bites, you write.
#theladyofmanyfandoms#theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction#gif is not mine#rings of power imagine#rings of power x reader#sauron x reader#sauron imagine#halbrand x reader#halbrand imagine#annatar x reader#annatar imagine
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So not sure if those short fics are wonki only but i was hoping you’d write on hee seeing you wear another members hoodie pls? Ty!
LOL i write for everyone but my anons seem to be wonki biased,, (jus like me tho)
“hee, i was trying to watch someth-mmph,” your boyfriend’s lips cut yours off rudely, similarly to his body that crushes yours as he wraps around you like a koala.
“netflix can wait, no?” he mumbles against your jaw, sharp nose digging into the soft skin of your cheek. “boyfriend’s first.”
sighing in defeat, your phone is thrown lazily across the couch before you’re returning heeseung’s embrace, smiling at the content groan he releases once your arms encase him. he’s milliseconds from moving back up and sneaking another kiss, only for his peripheral vision to slowly fall across a seemingly new, unidentifiable green hoodie covering your torso.
he frowns; it definitely isn’t his, and you usually tell him when you get new clothes..
meanwhile — waiting rather impatiently for the kiss he initiated first — your brows furrow. “what?”
not offering a response, heeseung cranes his neck down to sniff the soft material, frowning when the comfort of your scent is nowhere to be found. “baby, where’d you get this?” he inquires, tone laced in utter confusion.
you blink, shrugging absentmindedly. “it was just.. lying on the floor. finders keepers, losers weepers.”
he immediately pouts, bambi eyes turning down sulkily as he grips onto the hoodie’s sleeve. “baby,” he repeats in a whine, “my room is only a few steps away. this looks like jake’s.”
“well.. i was tired and cold and you took too long making snacks.” you attempt to defend yourself, despite knowing damn well your boyfriend may as well break the record for fastest ramen-maker after the countless times he’s served you both.
either way, heeseung spares your pathetic rebuttal, instead squirming out of your arms to pace over to his bedroom with quick strikes and a determined huff. the whole time, you send him whines and complaints from the couch, scolding him for leaving the cuddle session early — even more so when he disappears behind the door accompanied by noisy clacks of coat hangers knocking each other.
“finally,” you grumpily announce once he returns, arms extending to make grabby hands along the way. however, when you try to pull him back onto the couch, the bastard moves away, pointing at the purple hoodie in his grasp stubbornly.
“nuh-uh, hoodie off first,” heeseung demands.
“but hee, i want—“
unfortunately, you’re interrupted once more by a strict glare. “you can have cuddles when you aren’t wearing my bandmates clothes.”
his stubbornness always wins, apparently. as you accept defeat, you roll your eyes while yanking the material over your head. “so dramatic..“
heeseung doesn’t seem to mind your jab, much too busy smiling cutely as you pull his hoodie on instead, snickering at how it looks way bigger than usual. even more so when you expectedly gaze up at him, opening your arms and humming when he falls into them at last.
suddenly, heeseung’s spinning around so you’re the one perched up on his lap, deer-like eyes scanning over you in adoration. “there’s my baby,” he pecks your lips through mumbles, thumb rubbing your cheek to enhance his affection. “so pretty in my clothes.”
your lips descend to gently find a home against his neck — though you never admit it’s really to hide the blush arising from his words. “yours is more comfy, n’ it smells like you.”
he grins, a veiny hand moving up to run through your hair. “good. i plan to pull the hyung-card and make sure no hoodies are lying around here except mine from now on.”
you can only laugh, despite knowing that he’s not exactly joking.
hi loves my exam-fried brain produced this so i apologize for any errors <\3
#delcakoo#delcakoo requests#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen#enhypen fics#heeseung x reader#heeseung fics#heeseung fluff#heeseung imagines#lee heeseung imagines#lee heeseung#heeseung fic#lee heesung x reader#heeseung soft hours#enhypen drabbles#enhypen drabble#enhypen blurbs#enhypen fic#enhypen soft thoughts#enhypen soft hours#jay imagines#jake imagines#sunghoon imagines#sunoo imagines#jungwon imagines#niki imagines#enhypen reactions#enhypen imagine#enhypen x reader
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Entangled Fates
Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader
Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.
Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.
Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)
In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.
“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.
Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.
Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.
She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.
Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.
“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.
She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.
Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.
For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.
Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.
Dorea named her Y/N.
As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.
“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.
Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths. Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.
It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.
Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.
“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.
“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.
Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.
Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.
Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.
I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.
Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.
She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.
And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.
Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.
Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.
The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.
“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.
“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.
As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.
“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.
“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”
“Well, according to his letter, yes.”
Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.
“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.
A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.
Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”
The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.
“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “
“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”
“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”
Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, “No. I have children.”
Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.
“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.
Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.
Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.
Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.
“Why is that?” Robb questioned.
“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.
After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.
“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.
Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.
Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.
Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.
“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.
Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.
“Yes. Of course, Robb”.
Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.
She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.
Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.
“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.
Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.
“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.
“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.
As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.
“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.
Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.
“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.
A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.
“You can become a Stark”.
Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “
Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.
Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.
“No.”
Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “
“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.
The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.
Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.
Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.
“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.
She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.
Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.
“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.
Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”. Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.
For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.
The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.
“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.
He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”. She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.
Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.
“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.
Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her. A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.
“Do you love him?”.
She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.
The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “
“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.
Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.
Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.
Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.
Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.
“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.
Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.
“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.
Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “
“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.
“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”
Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.
A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”
Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.
#robb stark#game of thrones#robb stark fanfic#robb stark x reader#robb stark x y/n#robb stark x you#robb stark oneshot#richard madden#robb stark imagine#got x reader#got scenario#got imagines#asoiaf#robb stark x targaryen!reader#robb stark x fem!reader
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I got distracted, BUT I REMEMBERED!
The Dr.'s Fenton? Would ABSOLUTELY fight a child.
Specifically, Hatsume Mei. Future CEO of Hatsume Industries! And ENGINEERING RIVAL of their's! They may be new to this whole "support industy" business, but they are SEASONED weaponry makers! And that brilliant little upstart is good! Audacious! A THREAT!!!
COME GET SOME!!! D:<
See, they needed to Move. Things were getting a bit... spicy. They may have made so unfortunate choices, back before they knew the truth about their Son and Ghosts in general.
Ignorance, bigotry, and academic bias are curses in their house for a REASON, after all. They never thought... after all the DECADES of facing it themselves...
Well...
Needless to say, they were, are, and will always BE horrified by how they acted. There may have be a whole host of reasons behind WHY they acted that way. But those WHYs aren't good enough. They should have been better. Done better. They don't offer any excuses, but but they can give an explanation, if it's wanted.
And, together, as a family, they got through Maddie n Jack's horrifying mistakes.
God they don't deserve those kids. Love them to pieces. The things they don't warn ya about parenthood, you know? The mistakes you might make. You think you're ready. Think everything's alright. Then your life's work KILLS your son and brings him back.
And you don't notice.
......what sort of parents DONT NOTICE?
They still have nightmares. Feel sick. God, if they were working in ANY other field. With ANY other materials! If it wasn't SPECIFICALLY ectoplasm? He... he wouldn't have come back. Oh god.
........
So.... so, yeah.
They're working on some things! As a family! Seeing a therapist from the Zone. Lovely... Them? They're a tree person. Neither Jack or Maddie is quite certain what gender pronouns, if ANY, they are supposed to use. They've been defaulting to They/Them just to be safe. Still! Alien therapist! Neat!
But, of COURSE. The BABIES in White throw a FIT. "Wah, wah, wah you've been compromised blah blah blah" oh PLEASE! Just because they've had a little personal growth! And stopped shooting at Phantom in public! And in general! You shoot ONE little Goverment agent for trying to shoot your baby and suddenly YOUR the bad guy!
He didn't even die!
So, yeah, BIT spicy.
Honestly? Feels like a long time coming. They were never very popular. This ultimately just feels like the ends of a road that began in college. Them, the two "crazies" with their backs to the wall, as the government closes in, trying to tear them down for knowing the TRUTH and refusing to shut up about it. Their reputations so deep in the mud, they're tasting bedrock.
At least they are together.
And thank god they've had years to plan for the inevitable.
So? They have the kids grab their go bags and head off too stay with Danny's new celebrity friend from another dimension, Mr Wayne. Nice man, little dim, but since he's willing to open his home to the kids in case of emergency? Perfect. And frankly, as long as Mr. Pennyworth is there, everything will be fine.
Besides! Lil Damian is a very respectful and responsible young man. Tim and Danny may get up to mischief, but they can trust the youngest to put his foot down.
THEM on the other hand?
Not so lucky. THEY have to stay with the house. It's not exactky like they can move the portal after all, it's built in. And this is where the kids grew up! Where Jack and her scrimped and saved, lived out of cars and off nickle noodles, to afford! This is their HOME! And no jack booted THUG is going to take that.
So the kids go first. They go to the command center. Jack takes pot shots while she fires up... THAT machine. The one they wired into the house itself, right along with the Ectoplasmic Shielding. It was all theoretical, once. But not anymore.
Now they have The Zone.
It's been collecting energy runoff from the open gate ever since it opened. Siphoning them into the sub-basment mega batteries. Enough to run two-thirds the planet for the next half a millennia. If only the damn patent office would LET THEM PATENT THEIR WORK-!
But that doesn't matter anymore. No, what matters is checking how full the battery banks are. Decently. It HAS been a while since they've done a controlled drain. Good, that means they have more then enough.
So, with no kids to witness things getting nasty? She pulls out her keys and unlocks the parental commands, flips the the shields to "strobe-kill". Let's see you crowd us NOW fuckers. With Jack freed up to help aim the house? They set to work.
It's... not EXACTLY an exact science, as much as they'd prefer it to be. More of a controlled jump. Set preferences, power jump, hop sideways an unknown distance. Land. Look around.
Is it what you want?
Habitable?
A zombie apocalypse?
Jump again. And again. And again. Until the battery runs out. Then sit... or float...or drift, there, until the batteries refill. You have to be mindful, of course, that you don't lose Shield coverage. Because it keeps the House air tight and together. If you jump and immediately lose power to the shields because you misjudged the energy left in the batteries?
Better HOPE you land somewhere with a breathable atmosphere and no zombies!
And Fentons don't rely on HOPE! They rely on good ol firepower and hutzpa!
Also advanced ectoplasmic scientific engineering! But that was a given.
It... takes a while. They run out of canned peaches. Have to stop TWICE to help cure a zombie plague, since they are the only ones with a still working lab. They were actually sort of joking with the kids about the zombies. Oof. Good thing Ectoplasm eats EVERYTHING. One specialized ecto shot and that disease is TOAST.
Granted, the surviors are all limnal now. But they don't seem to care in the slightest.
Then there was the whole "oop! Planet's gone." Couple of worlds. The one with the crabs. The ocean one. The ice age. The robots. The cartoon horses. The inappropriately dressed high-schoolers with weapons fighting God. The boring one. The one with ninjas...
I mean, they are just NOT having any LUCK!
Okay, next moderately stable world, they are doing a groceries run! A Man can not live off freeze dried meals forever! Well, you CAN. But it's making Jack sad, and frankly that's a war crime. Plus she's run out of tea! AND coffee! A life of no caffeine? She can't endure that.
She's started to eye her son's God awful energy abominations in a can, for God sake! Desperate time's and all that...
Zyeyooom!
Thunk!
Which? Is how? The ENTIRE class of 1-H? Turns to stare in ABSOLUTE HORROR at the cackling, head thrown back, hands clawed, mad scientist "it's alive! It's aliiiiiiive" type insanity that is Hatsume Mei and her "this green goo I found from some guys Quirk" powered teleport anchor.
It MADE A HOUSE.
On SCHOOL FUCKING GROUNDS. An ENTIRE house! Is... is that a blimp? That's English right? What's it say?! What the FUCK is that sh- OH MY GOD ARE THOSE PEOPLE!? MEI!!!!!
So begins... the Fentons Beef With A Child™.
Because! Mei will forever more claim! That SHE brought them to this universe with HER magnificent machine! But Maddie and Jack? At first, trying to be nice about it, helpfully point out, actually? No. THEIR house can and does reality jump. THEY brought themselves.
Mei ignores them.
Crows about her magnificent machine. Scoffs about them thinks they haspd anything to do with it.
Oh... oh it is ON, you tiny pink haired little shit!
Does the Japanese Government want to take control of the situation? Of course they do. They want these scientists and they want that house. Local Nedzu's say? "It's nice to want things" :) *sips tea mockingly*
They landed on HIS school's grounds. Finders keepers!
You may say "threat to national security" but HE says "free support gear for the students and security for the school"! Not to MENTION all this delightful FREE clean energy! They are a delightful couple. With a portal to the fabric between realities in their basement!
Not found of the laboratory, but that's a personal issue. The ZONE however? Oooohohohohoho~☆
It? Would DRIVE THE HPSC and Japanese government BATSHIT INSANE that they can't get at the portal? That threats and stealth Heros and every other method? Just... hits a brick wall. A big ol "lol nope!" Meanwhile Nedzu and occasionally random teachers or students are popping in and out of this house they can get into?
Nedzu especially standing just on the other side of the shields going >:3 neener~ neener~ neener~ Ha ha! I could be mature about this but am CHOOSING NOT TO BE!
@legitimatesatanspawn @mutable-manifestation @hdgnj @hypewinter @babbling-babull
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𝐒mall 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐦
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: The Older Brothers (Separate) x Gn!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: A little, like smidge suggestive, smidge of possessiveness
𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I apologize if the brothers are Ooc, and for any mistakes
Part 1 Part 2
Do not copy, or repost my work
Lucifer is a busy demon
You never fail to notice the irritation he has when he wakes up and has to make coffee, it takes time off of his schedule for the day.
So, you made a plan to wake up before he did and make him a fresh cup of coffee and go back to bed before he comes into the kitchen
Lucifer was delighted and much happier throughout the day when we wakes up to the strong smell of his coffee
But eventually his curiosity gets the best of him.
Who has been making his coffee for him, and who knows him well enough to make sure there is enough for 3 cups?
He has a strong idea who it is once he realizes you are harder to get up in the morning since the mystery coffee started.
Lucifer decides to catch you in the act, to answer his suspicions and thank you
The Devildom is still dark, clouds blocking out any sunlight from the human and celestial realm. It's around 6 in the morning, your bare feet are cold against the long hallways of the house of lamentation.
The house is getting colder as the seasons pass, your having to wear a sweater or a robe when you wake up in the early mornings. Maybe you should mention to Lucifer that he should think about turning on the heaters at night.
Your rub your eyes triedly when walking into the kitchen. Flipping on the light above the stove, you turned the coffee maker on, the small bulbs lighting up the darker area. You reached above the coffee pot and dug out a paper filter and the ground coffee.
Once you cleaned out the pot, you set it in the maker. You opened the package of filters and put on it along with the ground coffee beans. The smell is strong, almost enough to make your eyes water.
Lucifer likes his coffee black and some water to thin it out. It reminds you of your father, he likes his coffee the same way. You smile fondly of the thought of your dad.
Your body tenses when the coffee makers makes a rumbling sound as it begins the process of making the coffee.
You lean against the counter and watch the steam flow out any open space, the brown liquid pouring into the glass pot. You felt your soul leave you body when the kitchen lights flicked on.
Lucifer, in all his glory, stood at the entrance of the kitchen. Sleep still visible in his tired eyes, his hair slightly sticking up, his silk PJs wrinkled and sticking to his robe. You blush at the sight.
"MC" His voice is groggy and dry, but he had a small, kind smile on his face. "Hi Luci" You make sure to stay quiet, not wanting to wake anyone else up.
"So it has been you? Waking up at such early hours just to please me?" His voice is low and teasing but there is genuine happiness in his voice.
"Yes, I noticed you got irritated and it took a lot of time out of your day to make it" You explained, pressing your palms against the cold, marble countertop.
Lucifer hummed and walked over to you, his slipper gently hitting the hardwood floor. His ruby eyes never leaving you, his smile never fading.
When he got to you he brought you into a hug, his hand in your hair his other around your waist and shoulders. You smiled and wrapped your arms around him, hooking themselves under his arms and resting on his shoulder blades.
Your cheek pressed against his toned chest, your eyes closed as you and him begin to sway. His head rested on yours while he held you close. His chest vibrated as he started humming, it's faint and quiet; only you and him are able to hear it.
Lucifer never has or had someone to care for him in such a little way, but it effects him so deeply he can't help but fall more in love with you.
You have such a kind soul, he had sensed it ever since you arrived. He doesn't know what he did to deserve you, but he is eternally grateful.
I truly believe The Great Mammon, is forgetful af.
He is always leaving something he needs behind.
Like his sunglasses, his favorite necklace, his favorite pair of earrings, even his car keys, or his favorite powdered foundation for modeling sessions.
The list goes on and on.
You noticed his forgetful habit before you even started dating him.
You constantly reminded him, a few or more times before he left the house but he always manages to leave something behind.
While you and the boy's were out at the mall one day, you decided to get him something to keep all of his things in.
A purse was a little to girly and he'd probably be embarrassed to carry it around, tho yk he would try just for you.
A wallet was to small to hold his car keys and foundation.
Plus, he already has a gold wallet he kept with him everywhere he went, even in his sleep.
Then you found it, the perfect thing just for your Mammon.
You just so happen to find it in Bath & Body works. The small black bag was perfect. It was big enough to hold his car keys and anything on the bigger side, but also had smaller pockets for jewelry and extra grim.
You couldn't help but smile, your chest buzzing with joy. You grabbed the bag and stepped in line. The line was long, all the demons are impatient, big or small. Always grumbling under their breath.
You always felt uncomfortable around all of them, especially when you didn't have one of the brothers with you. They despise you for being human, they think it's fun to pick and make fun of you. For literally anything under the dark sky of the Devildom.
You've learned to ignore it, one of the brothers or you handsome boyfriend usually scares the shit out of them anyway, but when it's just yourself your are a little more vigilant.
"Hi, this all for Ya?" The cashier was faux friendly, of course. Her name badge crooked and her hair was unneat and definitely unkept.
"Yes" You handed her the bag and got out the credit card Lucifer and Mammon had made for you an only you.
She gave you the biggest side eyes you've ever received. The card is black and gold, the royal stamp in the middle of it. A sparkly Gold outlining the edges making a pattern towards the marking on the back. The mark of the greedy, you and Mammon's pact mark.
You knew he would know once you mad a purchase. His pact mark stinging as you got greedy when buying something, a courtesy of having the bond with the Avatar of greed. Always craving something more, always wanting and needing it. The items would shine and beckon you in, temptation tugging at you.
You swallowed the thought of buying the whole store and quickly left. You could feel the greed seeping into your soul.
"Oi! MC!" Mammon's voice quickly brought you out of your tempting thoughts. You watched him jog towards you, his limba ring glowing a beautiful gold.
"Hi Mams" You said breathlessly, your own eyes shining a bright yellow. Mammon's face flushed, his pact mark stinging into his skin. But it felt so good when it did, he need it to sting more, to watch you get greedy infront of him or, even better, for him.
"I got you something" You smile so softly, it brings him to his knees.
"O-Of course you got the Great Mammon something, who wouldn't?" He grinned and curiously watched you hand him the white and blue plastic bag.
Mammon's face was bright red, his hands reached into the shopping bag and took out his gift. His eyes shines with happiness, a bright smile engulfing his beautiful face.
"I got it to hold the things your forgetting all the time, you just put it in there so it's all together" You explained holding into his free hand and swinging it back in forth.
Mammon wanted to cry. You are so perfect. So kind, so sweet to him. His perfect human. All to himself.
He brought you into a bone crushing hug, the bag you got him he held tightly in his hands. You giggled and hugged him back, running your fingers along his spine and shoulders.
Mammon made sure to always keep the bag with him, a small picture of you and him tucked away in his wallet and that bag. He also spoiled the shit outta you at the mall that day.
Levi is probably the second most untidy out of his brothers, next to Mammon.
Games all over the floor near his tv, his dirty clothes basket overflowing with clothes, his blankets unwashed.
Its just a mess.
And I picture you as sort of a neat freak some days, you don't mind the mess it's just not and organized mess?
Levi is embarrassed about his room and he does try to make a mental note to keep it cleaner for when your around but he forgets. To engrossed by his games to remember.
You know he trys to remember to clean it but, Levi can't help himself when all of his gaming friends are playing in he's not
He is the Avatar of Envy after all.
So while he games and you are just hanging out in his room, you decide to pick up his cave.
But only behind him so he can't see, Levi doesn't really notice nor does he hear it, his headset on all the way.
He does notice after you are gone how his room feels cleaner, bigger. Maybe it was just your calming presences.
You do this quite often, and you even clean up his games on the floor when he's at a student council meeting.
DO NOT ENTER
The sign on your boyfriends door reads. You are surprised Levi gave you permission to go into his room without him there. It make you smile knowing that he trusts you enough.
It's almost and intimate thing. His room is his safe space, where he can be himself and not be bothered by his brothers. Where he can watch all of his shows without being teased. Where he can cosplay all of his favorite characters and daydream of what they'd be like in person.
You find all of this adorable, it's what makes Levi, Levi.
When you are inside his room, Your are hesitant in cleaning up his gaming space, that is almost sacred. So you decide to leave it be untill you ask his permission. But his room is starting to smell from Levi's dirty clothes that continues to pile up against the wall.
You begin by separating his nice clothes form his everyday clothes, those go to the dry cleaners on Tuesday. The rest go into your laundry basket and down to the laundry room.
You hope the meeting will be and extra bit longer today, so you could be in and out before Levi and the brothers get home. If Lucifer found out you were the one doing his laundry and picking up his room, he'd hang you and Levi off the roof like Mammon.
You have your headphones on, one ear isn't covered so you could hear the loud stomping of the boys when they get home. You start humming with the song that rings into you ears, your head bobbing with the beat.
You carry down a load of Levi's laundry. You get the washer ready and start it, his shirts getting wet as the washer fills with water. You bring the rest of his shirts and his socks and put them into the second washer, that sits underneath the first one. With 8 people living in one house you have to have more than one washer and dryer.
While his clothes are washing, you decide to clean around his bed and dust things off. Henry, you and Levi's adopted son, watches out of his fish tank. You lift things up and dust underneath them but set them right where they once were.
After dusting, you clean up all the trash around his tub and put it in his little Ruri trash can next to his night stand. You check all the wrappers to make sure they don't have anything Levi would like on them before throwing them away.
You fail to notice your headphones slipping onto your uncovered ear. But you continued on with making his Tub the most comfortable it could be. His Ruri pillow directly where he likes it.
Being so occupied in your own little world and the music blasting in you ears, you didn't hear the heard of elephants coming up the stairs and Levi opening his bedroom door.
Levi watched you with a dark blush on his face. How you finished making his tub the way he likes it, the way you folded his clothes and set them neatly in his dresser. And all with a small smile on your face.
"Uh, MC." Levi finally spoke, his hands in his jacket pocket. When you didn't answer he saw you had headphones on. He knows you weren't purposely ignoring him, but he felt envy creeping up on him.
He knew he had to thank you in some way, but his anxiety spikes at the thought, his envy washing away. He decided on the just hugging you from behind, but he didn't want to scare you.
Levi slowly tapped your shoulder, you could feel someone in the room with you but you choose to ignore it. You have a very good idea who it is now. You slip your headphones off and see Levi's pale hand on your shoulder.
"Hi Levi" Your voice was so quiet and calming, you weren't surprised at all. His face was tinted a cute pink, his ears red.
"MC, Can...Can you stay turned that way?" He requested. You nodded and faced away from him.
A few seconds later you felt his slim arms around your waist, his head laying against your neck and shoulders. His breathing was fast, and his heartbeat was quick. You smiled and layed your hands over his.
"Thank you"
You almost missed it, his voice so quiet, his chest rumbled against you as he spoke. You smiled and leaned back against him.
This was Levi's way of saying thank you and showing affection You couldn't be more proud of him. He is slowly getting over his shyness and Tsuendere attitude. But You wouldn't have it any other way.
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