#I still feel sometimes that there’s something to be explored between these two brothers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redamancyys · 2 years ago

Text

All Around Me - Kaz Brekker

WARNING(S) ◆ smut, piv sex, oral (fem recieving), cursing, unedited.

WORDS ◆ 3.7k

REQUEST(S) ◆ based off of this request, though i did stray a little. basically kaz and the reader have sex for the first time!

AUTHOR'S NOTE ◆ sooooo this ended up being a lot steamy-er than i intended, but i hope that you enjoy it, because i definitely liked writing this one!

To say that the desire was eating you both up from the inside was an understatement.

Kaz had never wanted a person the way that he wanted you. It was a raw, carnal desire that came from deep within him. He had never been a person who ached for touch until he met you, he wished that he was able to be the man that could grab you by your hips without spiraling into a panic, or could kiss you for as long as you wanted without having to take a break because his internal thoughts were becoming too much to handle.

You would always explain to him that it wasn’t his fault.

Hushed whispers, your hands placed ever so carefully on his clothed body, trying to keep him grounded whenever the aversion got too bad. You had seen him at his worst, where he had to put his head in between his knees in order to stop the flashbacks from coming back to him. Though sometimes no matter how hard you tried, Kaz would morph back into that little boy again, feeling his brother's dead motionless flesh against his own as he floated back ashore. He would feel alone, no matter how much you tried to explain that you were here, he didn’t have to worry, he wasn’t there, he was safe.

And what was even worse, he felt like he was somehow disappointing you. He was with you, but you couldn’t even touch his bare skin without him spiraling into a mess. No matter how many times you explained that you were there for him, that you were always going to make sure that he was okay, there was still a piece of him that wished he was different. But Kaz’s wishes never came true, it would never magically go away. He had to face this head on if he was ever going to be able to properly love you, and for you, he was willing to try anything.

That had been a few months ago, and since then the two of you had worked very hard to overcome his aversion. You went slow, placing bare hands against each other, small kisses, anything that you could think of that would be enough to help but also just enough to not make Kaz feel uncomfortable. It had gotten to the point where you two were able to cuddle with one another, his hands could go up and down your spine and paint small drawings on the skin of your arm and legs. And you could do the same towards him. After a while, you both were able to take your tops off, explore those parts of your bodies, and every time you went farther, the desire began to creep its way into both of your chests. Both of you were aware what the next step was, you both weren’t dumb, but neither of you had the inclination to talk about it. It was like the two of you were dancing around the conversation, doing everything that you could to not bring it up.

Wylan and Jesper were always talking about it. Well, that was a lie, Jesper was usually the one that would talk about it with you. He always talked about the pining, the excitement of getting to explore your lover's body . . . it was something that you wanted but had never experienced before and before you knew it, you were sitting on your shared bed with Kaz, trying to concentrate on a book while he did his paperwork at his desk. You took a moment to stare at him, watching as his hands pressed against the paper, quill etching sounds into the silence between the both of you. You took your bottom lip into your teeth, sucking in a harsh breath. You could do this.

“Kaz, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You could’ve gone about it a different way, because the moment Kaz stopped what he was doing and turned to face you, there was a hint of worry in his expression. Most of the time when a person told another that they had to talk to them about something, it was bad news, and you were quick to assure him that it was nothing of the sort. “Nothing bad, I promise. I just wanted to bring an idea up to you.” His face immediately softened, one that you knew he didn’t share with many. You took a moment to study his expressive eyes, your own going from them to his lips, the ones that you wished were kissing the delicate skin on your body. Giving him a tiny smile, you said, “I wanted to see what you . . . thought about having sex with me? We’ve been getting to that point for a while now and I just thought that it wouldn’t hurt to ask if you wanted to go all the way?”

This was definitely something that he wasn’t expecting to come out of his mouth, especially because of the unspoken barrier between the both of you when it came to talking about these types of things. Of course he wanted to, saints, if he could he would take you right then and there but you and him knew that it would take a lot more mental preparation on his end for this to happen. And perhaps for a moment you thought that you had struck a nerve with him, that he would dismiss the idea and you would leave to compose yourself, but that was far from the truth. Instead he set down the quill and turned to face you completely, his gloved hands playing with one another as an attempt to ground. You didn’t move, eyes attentively staring, waiting for him to say something. Kaz eventually opened his mouth to say, “Of course I want to have sex with you.” He said it as though you were dumb thinking that he wasn’t, but you knew that this was his way of trying to guard himself from the actual thoughts that came into his head. “I think I just need a little time to prepare first-” “Yes! I know, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable first,” You cut him off, not wanting him to think that you were going to pressure him.

Soon enough you two were discussing the logistics, almost as if you were scheduling a business meeting of a sort. It made you chuckle at first, but as the days went by, closer to the date that the two of you planned to finally go the final step, your nerves began to jumble up.

You sat down at the edge of his bed, very reminiscent of a few days ago when you popped the question, but instead of Kaz sitting at his desk, he was sitting beside you. His breathing was slightly rigid, he was nervous which you completely understood. In order to comfort him, you placed your hand on his gloved one, looking at him with a look of kindness in an attempt to show him that you were nervous too.

“I love you,” You said to him.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

One finger at a time, you began to pull his gloves off of his hand, and then the other one, setting the pair onto the bedside table. You held one of his hands with yours while the other one made its way to the back of his neck, pressing soft kisses to his lips. Kaz responded by putting his hand on your waist, eagerly kissing you back. He pulled you closer to him, until you got the idea of straddling his waist, legs on either side of him as you sat on his lap. This kissing went on for a while, semi for comfort but also for pleasure, as you knew that you would never get tired of kissing Kaz Brekker. His lips tasted like honeyed tea and you relished in the notion that you would be the only one who ever got to taste such a sweet thing.

You were still sitting on his thighs and you needed him more than ever now. That familiar feeling that bubbled up inside of you whenever you two got this far began to resurface, causing the kissing to become even more fast paced, filled with want and need. Though the most enjoyable part was that the two of you were having fun, taking moments to stop and admire one another. For a moment a sly smile came across his lips and you wiped it away with a kiss, going back to the fast pace that had been set before. Your hands came and tentatively went under his shirt, feeling the taut skin of his chest with calm and courteous fingers, not wanting to upset him, though clearly beginning to fog up the idea of being gentle. The thought of him above you with a body like that? It made you falter in your movements. He was beautiful, and you were sure that you would never allow him to forget it.

Using the break in your concentration to his advantage, Kaz began mouthing along your skin, knowing that your neck was sensitive in a multitude of places and skimming your skin with his teeth ever so gently, hands pulling up your shirt above your head. His eyes scanned your body, raising an eyebrow. “No bra?” He asked, making you shy away and look anywhere but at his face. You didn’t reply, but he seemed to not like that. His hand came and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. You gave a small smile, “I wanted to be comfy.” He hummed, somewhat disappointed in your answer but not disappointed at how compliant you seemed to be with him. Kaz went back to kissing your neck, teeth grazing along your soft skin, making you jump whenever he bit down on a particular spot.

You were beginning to grow impatient. Perhaps it was with the way that he was worshiping you, wanting to kiss every single inch of you and make you keel into his touch over and over again. Or maybe it was because no one had ever made you feel this way before. You hadn’t been with others before, never trying to get this far with the men of Ketterdam for fear of ruin or awkwardness in the morning. You had only longed for Kaz before.

His hands found your breasts, squeezing them and kneading them together, fingers coming to pinch your nipples. Your back arched into him and you almost fell over on top of him, using your hands on his muscles to stop you. You reached and decided you wanted to please him, to show him how much you wanted him. You trailed your hands under his shirt and came to the band of his pants, pushing your fingers past it and making your way down. Before you could hit his obvious hard on, one of his own hands came and grasped your wrists, pulling your hand away. You looked up, thinking that you did something wrong. Tilting your head, you gave him a silent what? Maybe you had made him uncomfortable, and he was trying to come up with a way to tell you off.

Though that didn’t seem to be the case when Kaz’s lips offered a smirk.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Kaz explained. In one movement he put his hands to your back and flipped you two over, him now on top of you. Your head hit the mattress with a small humph and wondered what he had in store for you.

You worked with him to shimmy your pants and panties off, throwing them to some side of the room. His hands splayed against your thighs and you watched with an open mouth to see what he was going to do. He gave you a look, a familiar one that reminded you that you were actually here with him, no one else, the two of you were doing this amazing thing together. Your heart swelled with adoration as you thought that this was the man that you loved, the one that you trusted more than anyone else in the entire world. You were also well aware of the slick that was beginning to coat your thighs, body betraying you and showing him how much you wanted him, how you ached for him. Kaz seemed to like it though, bringing his flesh hand to your slit and scooping some of it up. When he brought his hand back up, you could see the way that it glistened on his skin, popping a finger into his mouth and humming sinfully at the taste. He did it again and again, humming every single time your arousal hit his tongue. You looked down with heated cheeks, feeling a little embarrassed that you were getting so worked up over something so small. “You taste . . .” He trailed off, bringing his tongue to your folds and swiping up from your hole to your clit. “Amazing.”

“It’s all for you,” You said, wiggling your hips and urging him to pleasure you again. Kaz smirked, feeling a sense of pride wash over him at your words. He brought a finger to you and pushed it in, watching your mouth open into a wide ‘O’ at the feeling. He curled it up, making your muscles tighten around him. Kaz built a steady pace and he came back up to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek sweetly as if he couldn’t hear the lewd sounds that were being created when he added a second finger in.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” He said, towering over you. His thumb rubbed against your clit while his fingers fucked into you. “To see you under me like this.” The both of you seemed to have this desire for each other for the longest time.

You moaned out at his words, thighs clenching around his hand to keep him there. You couldn’t respond, too busy thinking about the steady fire that was building in you. You reached to climb higher, hoping he would grant you some kind of release. He didn’t give it to you though. Instead, whenever you were getting to that tipping point, he would stop all of his movements altogether until you stopped shaking, then repeat the process over and over again. It was making you go crazy, how he had the power to push you towards release but he just wouldn’t do it.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t. As if to test you further, he pushed a third finger into you, making you moan out his name loud and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. His thumb kept rubbing languid circles on your clit. You thought if you stayed quiet you could sneak an orgasm, cut him off guard. But as if he heard your thoughts, his movements stalled and he put his other hand firmly on your hips so you couldn’t even move against his statue-like hand. His dark eyes bore into your own and you squeezed around his fingers. “You make me feel so good, Kaz.” The praise fell from your lips with ease, lava pooling in your stomach as if threatening to burst at any moment. If only he would just rub a little bit more . . .

He pulled his hand away from you. Kaz didn’t even respond to your statement and you wondered if you said something wrong, if he had enough. And he had enough all right, but not enough of you. He wanted to see you cum, just around his cock and not his fingers. But you couldn’t hear what he was thinking, which made you whimper when he pulled himself away fully, standing at the edge of the bed. You opened your legs up to him, the farthest that you could go without hurting yourself and hoping that it would make him come back to you quickly. Your clit was aching from several denied orgasms, almost thinking about pulling your hand down to finish yourself off, though deciding against it when knowing Kaz would never allow something like that. He liked seeing you writhing like this.

Kaz’s hands shed all his clothing. He wasn’t exactly putting on a show for you but you marveled anyways, watching the way that his muscles flexed when his shirt came off and how you wanted to lick all around his abdominal region and make your way all down to his cock, which was pressed against his stomach and slightly glistening with precum. It was big and felt your insides clench just thinking about it sliding into you. Once he was satisfied with his clothing off, he came back down to the bed and kneeled between your spread legs.

“Kaz,” You whispered. “Please.”

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and it took all of your strength to not roll your eyes. “What do you want me to do to you?” Of course he wanted to hear you say it, to announce what he was inevitably going to do. You couldn’t ignore the way you loved how controlling he was with you, how he ordered you to do some things. And as much as you hated that he didn’t let you cum, you also loved how he would make you cum when he wanted you to, not you. He took his cock into his hands and rubbed the tip against your glistening folds, teasing you in the most sinful way possible.

“Please . . . Fuck me Kaz. Make me cum, I can’t take it anymore.” You just wanted him inside of you so badly, you were going to scream if this went on for any longer. He was right there, denying you both the pleasure. With a nod of his head, he pushed into you in one fluid motion. The feeling of him bottoming out inside of you made you grip onto his bicep, pulling him close so his warm chest was against your own again. He wasted no time moving, the sound of it deliciously sweet in your ears. Kaz took your legs and pushed them upwards, your feet hanging off of his shoulders and pressing your thighs further up until they were almost hitting the mattress. The change in position had you crying out, feeling him hit deeper inside of you.

You could feel every single scrape of his cock against your walls, increasing that fire in your stomach until you were sure you were about to cum. He kept at it with such loyalty and vigor, his motivation to make you feel the best you ever had fuelling him to a tenfold. He was such a devoted man to begin with, so you should’ve known that he would handle things the same way in bed.

You squeezed around him. “Please,” You whimpered.

“Go ahead.” Those two words were all you needed, allowing yourself to scream out as your orgasm ripped through you, built up again and again and now it was finally here and it was amazing. It rippled through you like shockwaves, and made you go limp under him, legs completely boneless. Kaz didn’t let up as he rode through your orgasm, keeping the same pace with you. He was unforgiving, not giving you time to adjust and instantly making you feel the feeling of overstimulation. You were so sensitive to his cock ramming in and out of you that you could feel a second orgasm already building up. The tip of him hit a particularly nice spot in you and you yelled, curling your toes and your hands came to tangle and grip in his hair. You almost stopped for a moment thinking that you were hurting him, but when you looked at his face, you saw only fucked out bliss, white incisors showing in a ravenous grin. His eyes opened and they were almost fully dark, making you shiver.

“You feel so good,” He mumbled, as though he was talking to himself. He was completely thrown into the pleasure that you were giving him, hot and warm and just perfect , like you were made for his cock to be rammed into over and over again. “Made for me, all for me.” He used your past words, them never losing their meaning no matter how many times he muttered under his breath.

Time seemed to slow and grow faster at the same time, the whole room disappearing as both of you focused on only each other. You weren’t sure how many times he had made you cum at this point, you took whatever he gave you and took it well. When you got enough strength to crane your neck down, you watched as your hole enveloped his cock, it coming back out slicked with the remnants of your past orgasms. Kaz saw where your eyesight was and a sense of pride washed over him again. “Do you like watching that? Seeing how well you take me?” He asked, egging you on. His hand went to grab your own and placed it on your lower abdomen, and you could feel the skin slightly raising up every time he went into you. You could see it too, sliding in and out. Though, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself, his movements were beginning to falter. He was becoming more sloppy with his hips and you knew he was about to cum. So, to give him what he had worked for, you wiggled your hips up, matching his hips. Your oversensitive clit rubbed against the base of his cock and you were clenching around him, and as if on cue, you were cumming again, feeling weak under him. Kaz wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up, his cock splitting you open until he was spilling inside of you.

The moans that left his mouth were probably the hottest things you had ever felt in your life. You could feel his cum dripping down his cock, coating your thighs and dripping onto the soiled sheets. He put you down on the bed and followed you, eyes watching your own and kissing your sweaty forehead. He finally stopped moving and stilled inside, not wanting to leave you. He didn’t want to leave this moment and neither did you.

#kaz brekker smut #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows fanfic #six of crows #netflix shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone #kaz brekker angst #grishaverse fanfiction #grishaverse

1K notes · View notes

legobiwan · 2 months ago

Text

Gravity Falls fic rec list...Part 2.

I should be grading writing right now, but in the spirit of procrastination, I'm going to instead post about my favorite new fics that have emerged in the post-Book of Bill era.

~~~~~~

Gen Fics

A Mariner’s Guide to the Unexplained by mariezies

Another fic that tackles the idea of Stan's criminal past coming back to haunt him as the elder Pines twins take to the sea. What I really like about this fic are Ford's inner monologues and in particular, the way he overthinks his interactions with his brother post-Weirdmaggedon due to the crushing level of guilt he feels. Bonus points for the incredibly adorable cat OC who joins the twins on the Stan o'War II. Incomplete.

We're Still Here by Simplistic_Apricity

What if Stan hadn't knocked Ford through the portal in 1982 and stuck around Gravity Falls instead? A bajillion fics have been written about this concept, but this one takes a slightly different approach as to the fallout from a Bill-possessed Ford attacking his brother as Ford slowly (slowly) comes to terms with what exactly he has wrought in that basement. The characterization and interactions of the twins and Fiddleford are incredibly grounded, avoiding melodrama while still being wildly effective. Incomplete. TWs for violence and medical trauma.

~~~~~~

Billford Fics

Not to sound like a 2013 hipster, but I do want to state that I hopped on this seafaring vessel pre-BoB and am delighted to witness the explosion of works exploring the demented, tortured relationship between these two absolute disasters. I've decided to let my cringe flag fly high and free here, with the caveat that I only indulge in triangle!Bill stories (accept no substitutions), as, let's face it, Ford is a freak (affectionate) and he loves his geometry.

Statement Abnegation by Anonymous

This one probably needs no introduction, but I'd be wholly remiss if I didn't include it on my list. A+ characterization of both Ford and Bill and it fucking nails the landing. Ford is taken prisoner during Weirdmaggedon, but this time Bill's playing for keeps. Complete. TWs for torture, death (temporary), Stockholm syndrome, and explicit sexual content.

apology tour by dolorous

There's something downright wistful about this story, which presents as "crack taken seriously" when Bill chooses Ford to be his keeper/chaperone as part of a Theraprism-mandated apology tour to those he has wronged post-BoB. Ford hates Bill. Ford sometimes doesn't hate Bill. Ford definitely hates Bill. And now they're stuck on the road trip from hell. Complete. Implied past (current/future?) relationship, no sexual content.

Then it becomes, it becomes, it becomes a problem by tempusedaxrerum

Takes place post-Betrayal but (so far) pre-Stanley arriving in Gravity Falls. Bill is determined to drag Ford into opening the Portal, kicking and screaming (limbs optional). Features an incredibly well-developed OC who is battling demons of her own when she has the misfortune of crossing paths with both Bill and Ford on a snowy evening in Oregon. Incomplete. TWs for violence, attempted sexual assault via possession, substance abuse.

Live, Laugh, Lather, Rinse, Repeat by ShibaIntuit

The conceit of this story is absolutely wild. Essentially, Ford eats a cursed piece of pizza and suffers from existential indigestion. The world-building once Ford is in the multiverse is delightful as an older Ford tries to renegotiate his past with a Bill Cipher of thirty years previous. Incomplete. TWs for violence.

as falls gravity so falls gravity falls by underwater_owl

A series of three stories that take a deep dive into Ford's subconscious while exploring the idea of the Axolotl placing Bill under Ford's mental power due to shenanigans you are better off reading about than me explaining here. Bait & Switch is the main narrative, which is a gen work featuring the whole extended Pines family plus Mabel and Dipper's mother, while Because & Despite and Cause & Effect explore the intense psychosexual relationship between Ford and Bill before and during the events of Bait & Switch. These last two stories really dig into the nature of Ford's deepest and darkest desires and the utterly twisted relationship between Ford and Bill. Incomplete. TWs for explicit sexual content (read the tags on those two last stories, folks! This author isn't, or is, I suppose, fucking around).

Snakes in the Garden by Miss_Ginger_Bread

Another Jimmy Snakes story! Because both Pines twins have terrible taste in men/demonic entities. A ghost from Stan's past shows up in Norway, prompting Ford to take matters into his own hands. Lovely interactions between the Pines twins, including a murderous, protective Ford and a Ford who is harboring a gigantic, triangle-shaped secret from his brother. Incomplete. TWs for abusive relationships.

#hello there #gravity falls #fic recs #okay now i'm going to work on *my* gf story #write write write!#stanford pines #bill cipher #stanley pines #billford

137 notes · View notes

mayhemories · 2 years ago

Note

please please please do a part two of best friend’s brother with some intense toe curling smut!! 🤭🤭

Best Friend's Brother (pt. 2 Smut)

My first time publishing smut - got nervous! if people like this I will do a pt. 3 in which will be p in v. Also, some tags just are not working so if it doesn't work I'm sorry it was not purposeful.

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Reader (James Cameron’s Avatar)

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: smut, !!!!minors dni!!!!!! Smut. Heteronormative sex, swearing, virgin reader, oral - female receiving etc. smut smut smut. Maybe a lil angsty at the start? Reader is still insecure as was requested in the original request.

Words: 2.6k

Author’s Notes:

Aged up, obviously. Direct continuation of Best Friend’s Brother <- which you can find here.

Permanent Taglist: @lilprettypetite @nyotamalfoy @weasleytwinwheezes @aonungs-tsahik @rainbowsocks @glitterandgoldfinds @bluealiensimp @melsunshine @ussoppl @wondxrgurll @luvlykrispy @myheartfollower @gloryavila

Fic Taglist: @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kirapeach11 @mochiqueen16-blog @buttercake2234 @darksxder @anficblogs @ashrocker123 @strawberri-blonde @snakequeen13

Read under the cut:

You and Neteyam had been together for six months. And, undoubtedly, they were the best six months of your life. He was so affectionate, something that took you a little while to get used to, especially in front of others.

But recently you’ve wanted to take it that one step further, but you just didn’t know how. And it was really, really bothering you. Neteyam wasn’t pushy, but he wasn’t shy the same way you were shy. The two of you spoke about anything and everything. He’s helped you explore a lot of intimacy that you felt like you were missing out on. Heated kisses, open talks, and sometimes Neteyam would write you filthy letters about how he thought about you, how he dreamed about you. And you wished you could return the favour.

You sighed deeply, pricking yourself with your beading needle again. You were so frustrated. In every sense of the word.

“What’s on your mind? C’mon spit it out.” Kiri said sharply, still busy with her own beading. You were grateful for Kiri, always. She always stood by you, no matter what. And, where others may drift apart in the situation you two were in, your relationship with Neteyam did nothing but bring you and Kiri closer together. She was practically your sister now.

But you didn’t know if talking about this, about your sexual frustration with Neteyam, was apropriate conversation to have with your best friend.

“Nothing, I am just lost in my thoughts today.” You tried to dismiss it, and swallow it down. Though you could feel the blush spreading across your body, and the fire of embarrassment spread between the valley of your breasts.

Kiri spat out a sarcastic laugh. “Uh huh, you’ve been lost in your thoughts for days then.” Kiri tossed her beading to the ground. The two of you sat outside, in the grass soaking up the sunlight.

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.” You said, more focused on your beading now than ever. You were beading a new bodice for a clan dance in a few eclipses time.

“Okay, so its obviously about Neteyam then.” Kiri started, you threw your beading at her while a small smirk graced her lips.

She was still your best friend, you just didn’t want to burden her with uncomfortable knowledge.

“(y/n) you can tell me anything, I won’t be mad, even if its gross.” Kiri assured you, you felt her eyes burning into the side of your head as you covered your face with your hands. Eywa, you were so embarrassing and naive and stupid.

You knew Neteyam loved you, and in turn, he is an incredible man. He would never think less of your innocence or your shyness.

But your own brain enjoyed the act of self-sabotage, and you often could not help but to think the lack of sex life was due to your lack of appeal.

“You have to promise me not to get grossed out!” You say, pulling your hands away from your face, holding Kiri’s eyeline. You knew you were a blushing mess, riddled with anxiety and nausea.

“I promise! I’m not a child, and I’m not Lo’ak.” She quipped. You chuckled and you tried to put your heart back down in your chest from where it had risen to your throat.

“Well, Neteyam and I have been together for awhile…” You started playing with your long braids, nervously. Kiri urged you on. “We have been together for awhile, and I love him, you know I do-”

“Trust me, everyone knows you do.” You ignored Kiri’s interjection, soldiering on.

“-And I don’t expect us to form a bond anytime soon, of course but…” You felt the burning sensation under your skin, your blood was too loud and the day too bright, everything was causing a sensory malfunction.

“But what?” Kiri was kind, and she never pushed you further than necessary.

“Well, I would like to mate with him but I’m so scared and I don’t know how to ask, let alone do anything remotely sexual and I’m afraid Neteyam knows this and that’s why we haven’t done anything yet and I’m just stupid so I would get his hesitancy-”

Kiri cut your rambling off, laughing. Throwing her head back in the sun, you could see all the stripes that ran across her neck, hiding under necklaces and her com.

“Have you just asked him?” She asked plainly, once she collected herself.

You were shocked - just ask him, was she crazy?

“Well, no I haven’t.” You mumbled, fetching your beadwork from Kiri’s lap, and finding solace in the distraction.

“That’s where you start, (y/n). There’s no shame in not knowing.” Kiri said softly, sensing your unease. She went back to her own beadwork and did not bring it up again.

You knew Neteyam would be back any minute. You sat, still working on the fine beading in your new tent given to you as a step into your adulthood. You enjoyed living away from your parents, the solace and independence. But, Neteyam knew you got lonley and stayed with you most nights.

Tonight was one of those nights. And, Neteyam always comes to you as soon as he finishes his duties.

You were just going to ask him, like Kiri said.

That was no big deal, right? You did not know what you were going to say, you were going to ‘go with the flow’ like Jake says sometimes.

This ‘flow’ made you feel like you were drowning.

Soft lips on your forehead snapped you out of your whirlpool thoughts.

“My love are you alright? I’ve been talking to you for a minute or two now.” Neteyam said softly, holding both your cheeks in his hands. His eyes scanned your face to find a trace of what was bothering you, your face flushed under his intense stare.

“I’m sorry Neteyam, there’s been a lot on my mind recently.” You said, smiling. Neteyam took the bait, removing his hands from your face, sitting across from you on the floor, legs crossed.

“Tell me about it my lovely girl.” Neteyam said, reaching out for one of your hands. Partially because he craved your touch, and partially to distract you from your beading. He had missed you all day, and did not want to share your attention with some beads.

You sighed softly, taking his hand. Everytime you looked at Neteyam his stomach flipped, he felt butterflies and fell in love all over again, everytime. He did not miss the bright blush that burned across your high cheekbones and nose, and that dipped down into the valley of your breasts. He knew his eyes lingered there for a beat too long, but you did not notice.

“Neteyam I am embarrassed to ask you this,” His heart dropped into the field of butterflies in his stomach. “But, do you want to have sex with me?”

He must’ve heard you wrong. His head snapped to yours, finding you looking up at him through your thick lashes, innocently.

“What?” The word fell from his mouth before he could reel it back in. And, you were quick to jump to the defensive, afraid of upsetting him, of offending him.

“We do not have to obviously, as I know I am not experienced and maybe that is not what you’re after but-”

The low growl came from Neteyam’s chest. ‘No experience’ was just a polite term for ‘no one else's’. As far as Neteyam was concerned, if another male looked at you for too long it was reasonable grounds for a fight.

“You want to have sex with me?” Neteyam asked, he felt all the blood rush in-between his legs. The conversation alone was enough for him. He has wanted you for so long, for too long. But he would never, ever make you operate outside your own terms.

You smiled, the fleeting confidence that he provided you swelling in your chest.

“I would want nothing more, my Neteyam.”

The kiss was hot, and striking. His hands cupped your face, like they had done not all that long ago, but this time, he laid you down, your back to the floor. His strong, muscular frame leaning over you, your chests touching, and one of his knees had found his way between your legs. His tongue wiped your lips, a gentle way to ask for permission. You gave it to him, his tongue fought yours for dominance, briefly, until you submitted to him, like you always did.

You were still fully clothed, Neteyam too, but the heat was insurmountable. His knee was far from your clothed cunt, but the anticipation caused slick to gather there all the same.

He pulled away from the kiss, you were thankful for the air but you craved the feeling of him so close.

“My love you have to tell me if you don’t like something, or if you don’t feel comfortable or if you change your mind, ok?” He whispered into your ear, you nodded, words failing you. “No, use your words babygirl, let me hear you.” Neteyam left paperlight kisses under your ear, and moved to your jaw.

“Okay.” You said, breathless, barely above a whisper.

“Good girl.” Neteyam kissed down the column of your neck, sucking and biting. His cainines taking your sweet flesh and leaving dark, purple marks in his wake. Everyone would know who you belonged to now. If there was any doubt before, there would never be again.

Neteyam’s left hand was still cradling the side of your face, while his right played with the skin at your waist, rubbing up and down, teasing the skin underneath the hem of your beaded top. As he continued the assault on your neck, down to your chest and the straps of your coverings laid, you felt the tip of his tail caress your thigh, his own knee moving up to find your wet core.

You couldn’t help but moan at all the stimulus. You felt Neteyam stop for a microsecond, but it was enough for you to feel embarrassed, you quickly covered your mouth with your hand, stifling anything else that may humiliate you.

He pulled away from your chest, leaning over you to look you in the eye, his free hand that had been playing with the hem of your shirt came up to pull your hand away. He placed your hand on his toned, flexing chest.

“No. No, I want to hear you, don’t be embarrassed.” His thumb swiped across your lip and in an act of lust-induced insanity you opened your mouth and sucked on it. “Never hide from me, my love.” Neteyam smiled lightly, his eyes fluttering closed, he pressed his hips against your own.

You felt how hard he was against you, your internal walls clenched against nothing, but you felt how soaked your loincloth had become. Neteyam let out his own deep moan.

“Do you feel me, babygirl? Do you feel what you do to me?” His voice had changed, deep and commanding and alluring.

It was all too much. You felt the coil in the base of your stomach tightening.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” Neteyam whispered as he ground into you, his lips attaching themselves to your already bruised neck. Both his hands making quick work of removing your top, discarding it with no care.

“Yes, yes, I-” Your breath hitched as his mouth found your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud around in his mouth. “I want to feel you inside, Neteyam.” You said bravely, shutting your eyes, you could not control the nonsense that fell from your mouth. You were too fucked out and barely anything had happened yet. It was embarrassing.

He wanted you nonetheless.

Neteyam could not help but growl when the sweet words fell from your plush, beautiful lips. He removed himself from your swollen nipple. He took you in, looking at all of you. Your body had a light sheen of sweat, your head was rolled back, lips parted- mewling. You were everything to him.

Netyam did not hesitate in removing your loincloth as quick as his nimble fingers would allow, sliding the fabric down your legs he took the time to squeeze your thighs and calves. He wanted to consume you, every part. Mind, body and soul, Neteyam would never stop wanting you. He supposed that made him selfish. But, Neteyam had never asked for anything in his whole life, save for you. And, he would be completely satisfied in his existence in this life if all he had was you.

“Can I taste you my love?” Neteyam asked, using one of his hands to part your legs, wider, his other was massaging the flesh of your thigh. He saw your sopping cunt for the first time and fuck, Neteyam felt wasted. Absolutely toatled. His dick strained against his own covering, twitching at the sight.

Stunning.

You nodded, giving him permission. Neteyam pinched your inner thigh, making you squeal in surprise, raising your head slightly you squinted at him. “Words, babygirl. I know you know how to use ‘em.”

“Taste me, honey. I want whatever you want me to want.” You laid your head back down of the floor of your home, desperate for friction your bare hips bucked upward, and you could’ve sworn you heard Neteyam’s breath hitch.

He wasted no time in exploring your most private heat. Neteyam ate you like a man starved, your moans doing nothing but spurring him on.

You wanted to save your first orgasm for his dick, but Neteyam licked and sucked, one of his hands had found your clitoris, and you felt that tight coil in your stomach begin to snap. Instinctively, your hand flew to his hair, nestling in his braids as he hit a certain spot. Back arching, you began to unravel, and unravel quickly.

“Neteyam, I can’t, I’m going to-” You began to apologise about your approaching orgasam, embarrassed that you could not save it for when he was inside. His fingers worked quickly on your clit, as he pulled his mouth away briefly.

“Cum for me, my darling girl.” His husky voice sent a shock through your body, his fingers never stalling, his tongue found your heat again, licking, stroking, tasting. His words were enough for you.

You felt your walls clench, squirting around his sucking mouth, he drew it from you, swallowing it down. You felt him smiling against you, against your shaking, heavily breathing frame.

Neteyam came up, his arms extended on either side of your head, your felt his hard-on ground into your naked form, his loincloth would be stained from your wetness. You began to come down from your high, Neteyam captured your eyeline. You stared at him, and his smirk, a bead of your own cum on the side of his mouth. You threw your hands over your eyes and face in embarrassment, you couldn’t help it. You felt like you should’ve lasted longer than you did.

Neteyam loosed a breathy chuckle watching you hide behind your hands, while your shatteringly-beautiful and so very naked form laid under him.

“Don’t hide sweetheart, I need to see your face baby.” You shook your head in reply, keeping your hands firmly placed against your face. “I see you. I see you despite the fact that you’re too embarrassed to look at me.” Neteyam’s voice was hoarse, his words raw, and you could do nothing but look at him then.

See him.

Feel him.

Love him,

Entirely.

He smiled when he saw your warm eyes again. And, you knew you were done. Totaled, even.

“I see you.” You spoke softly, worried that if you were any louder this would all fade into nothingness.

He captured you in a strong, burning kiss. And you giggled at the face that you could taste yourself on his lips.

You decided that you would not be embarrassed around Neteyam anymore.

#neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #neteyam angst #neteyam fluff #neteyam x reader smut #avatar #avatar 2022 #avatar twow #avatar the way of water #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader smut

2K notes · View notes

howtotwirlaknife22 · 7 months ago

Text

Mother

David “Hesh” Walker x Fem!Reader

Summary: you and Hesh have been living together for a little while now, and you recently found something out that will change the dynamic between the two of you, forever.

Warnings ⚠️: pregnancy, reader has some mood swings, intimate themes

A/N: happy belated Mother’s Day out there to current mothers, your own mothers, mothers to be, step mothers, or any mother figure really! I hope ya’ll like this cute little one shot I did for Hesh, let me know if you want more!

For the last few months, you and husband Hesh had been living together in your new house just outside of San Diego. Things had finally seemed to start getting back to some form of normalcy after the federation had been successfully defeated. When the news broke that the United States had come out on top, everyone was ecstatic. Including Hesh. So much so, that the second he and his team had returned home from a mission successful, he popped the question to you. You couldn’t contain the joy you felt in that moment. You had a small wedding ceremony, with his team and some of your family and friends attending. It was a cozy wedding, and you were happy Hesh’s team could be there for him. Losing his father was hard on him, and not to mention his brother going MIA for a while as well. But they eventually found Logan, though he was in a hostile state after being tormented by the feds. But they were able to get him back to his old self after a few good months of therapy. You were happy to hear this, and you were happy you were able to see Logan at your wedding, acting as Hesh’s best man. Shortly after you were married, you had bought a house together. It was one of the newer houses in the outskirts of San Diego that had been built after the federation collapsed, and Hesh’s military connection definitely came in handy when it came to obtaining it. You and Hesh had so much fun going to different department stores in the main city choosing out different furniture and kitchen equipment, and you both loved to play house with one another in the fake housing set ups. Once the two of you had gotten fully moved in, you were ready to finally start your sweet little life together as husband and wife. Once you both adjusted to each others schedules in your day to day lives, you had finally found time to hang out with one another for casual date nights. And when you just wanted to spend time at home, you often times cuddled on the couch together and watched a movie, played video games, and sometimes you even cooked a fancy meal together and laughed when one of you burnt it or added to much flour, often times resulting in ordering take out for the night. But your all time favorite thing was the alone time you two had. The intimate and deliciously passionate bedroom activities you enjoyed together. You two tried to make time for each others needs, and you couldn’t remember a day since you had been married that you hadn’t explored one another’s bodies in some form. But lately, Hesh had gotten a little more tied up back on base with his new promotion, and you had been a little more lonesome at the house than usual. You usually wouldn’t mind, and you didn’t the first few times he came home late, but this time felt different. You felt…anxious. You had always considered yourself strong and independent and you didn’t feel like you needed a man there to support you. But this night in particular made you feel uneasy. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. It was starting to get closer to around midnight by the time Hesh stepped through the door, and you were still wide awake sitting on the couch once he came inside.

“Babe?” He questioned, shocked that you were still up. “What are you still doing up? I told you you don’t have to wait up for me.” He placed his coat on the coat rack and his keys on their hook. You stared at him for a moment. For some reason, that sentence was off to you. It rubbed you the wrong way. You couldn’t shake off the feeling of pure annoyance. took a deep breath, and finally you blurted out

“are you cheating on me!?”

Hesh was shocked. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You were always so calm and collected, and you knew he had been working later hours as he had been adjusting to filling out new reports. With raised eyebrows, he placed a hand up in defense.

“Whoa, where the hell did that come from?”

You lip curled a little and you muttered.

“Yes or no…”

Hesh furrowed his brows and crossed his arms.

“No. God no. Babe, Where the hell would you even pull an idea like that from? You know I’ve been stuck on base since I ranked up.” His tone shifted into a slightly softer one towards the end of his sentence, and he slowly began to take a few steps towards you on the couch. You felt your curled lip begin to quiver, and in a few seconds you went from a sneer to tears fully streaming down your face as you began to sob into your hands. Hesh was disturbed to say the least. He had never seen you this distraught in the 5 years he had been with you. You looked up at him once he sat beside you, choking out an apology through sobs.

“I-I’m sorry…I..I don’t know what’s wrong with me…I just…I’m so worried that you..that you’re…y’know…I’m worried you don’t like me anymore..” you didn’t even know what you were saying. None of it was truly what you meant, but it felt right to say it anyways. So you kept on rambling. “I’m just worried you find me gross…I’m worried you’re gonna ditch me for someone who’s prettier and smarter than I am…I’m..I’m worried you’re bored of me!” You sobbed and curled into him as he slowly sat down beside you, curling an arm around your shoulder to comfort you. Hesh tried to shush you and rub your back as you cried into his chest, but it was no use. You were sobbing uncontrollably in his arms and the only thing he could do was hold you.

“Babe…are you feeling okay? This isn’t really like you..” he tilted your chin up and was heartbroken to stare into your red and teary eyes. You sniffled and glanced up at him.

“I…I don’t know…I just..fuck..” you pushed yourself off of him and wiped your tears off on you sleeve. “I…I think I’m gonna go to bed…goodnight.” With that, you huffed and promptly turned on your heels heading straight for bed, leaving Hesh alone and confused in the living room.

“What the fuck was that?” He questioned, sighing heavily.

A few days had passed after that incident, and you had continued to grow more and more irritated with Hesh. Whether that was a dish left in the sink for too long, or the toilet seat getting left up once or twice a day, or even the trash getting taken out an hour later than usual. Everything he did seemed to annoy you. And you couldn’t prevent the little outbursts you would have on him, no matter how hard you tried to look past those petty little incidents. These often ended with you crying and locking yourself away in your shared bedroom for hours at a time, and Hesh had begun to grow irritated with these outbursts as well. It all came to a head one day when Hesh had to leave for work earlier than usual one day, and you had been greeted in with facial hair scattered all around your bathroom sink, most likely from him rushing to get ready for work that day. You gritted your teeth and began to type out an angry text, your fingers dancing across the screen at a million miles an hour. Just before you were able to hit send, you felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over your body. You paused, clutching your stomach. Maybe you had just eaten some bad chicken the night prior? After all, you had meant to throw it out a few nights ago. You felt another wave of nausea, this one stronger than the last. You groaned and slowly slid down to the floor, setting your phone to the side. You blinked a few times and whimpered as you felt your stomach turn. You could feel the aching feeling you get when you’re about to vomit creeping up on you. You slowly made your way to the toilet and lifted the seat, feeling your mouth begin to fill with saliva. You whimpered again, this time spitting into the toilet as the Silva became too much. You felt your stomach begin to bubble up, before you felt the rush of vomit coming up your esophagus. You coughed, spitting up the remains of the foul bile into the toilet. It took a few minutes for your vision to return to normal again, and you stared into the toilet before you had the slow realization as to why your mood had been so shitty for the past few days. You gulped and opened your phone, the unsent text staring back at you. You felt guilty and embarrassed and quickly deleted it. But you switched contacts over to your best friend, who you swiftly texted a few words to.

Can you please buy me some pregnancy tests?

You sat on the toilet, holding the plastic stick that you had just urinated on in front of you. You stared back at it as you waited for a few agonizing minutes for the final results. Your friend was outside the bathroom door for moral support, calling out to you.

“Any results?” You sighed.

“Not yet…two more minutes.” You had a timer set on your phone as the seconds counted down. You gulped, hoping that the mood swings could be explained because you were about to get your period instead. You and Hesh had discussed having children a few times, but neither of you really thought it was necessary in the near future. And you weren’t sure how Hesh would even react to the news, especially given his new position. You were quickly ripped from your thoughts as your timer went off, and your eyes snapped from your phone to the test. You thought you were going crazy. You blinked a few times and shook your head before you stared at the test as hard as you could. Two lines. Two blue lines staring back at you. You couldn’t believe it. You were ripped out of your thoughts when you heard a loud knock on the door.

“Hey! You good? What does it say?” Your friend called out from the other side, a hint of worry tinged in her voice. You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. Your friend knocked again. “Y/N? You okay?” You swallowed hard and stuttered out.

“I…I’m okay..” you sat up from the toilet and flushed it, washing your hands quickly and opening the door. You were staring down at the test before you held it up, showing her the plastic stick. Her eyes widened and she stared back at you with her mouth agape.

“Are…are we celebrating?” She asked quietly, her tone unsure. You didn’t even know. You were unsure yourself.

“I…maybe?” You felt tears begin to well in your eyes. “I…I gotta talk to Hesh once he gets back. Fuck…this would explain why I’ve been so mean. But..damn. Shit..he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve any of it!” You began to sob into your hands as your friend rubbed your back gently.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s gonna understand. But…that does mean you’re gonna have to tell him soon.” She pulled your hair back and tied it into a loose ponytail. You let out a shaky sigh and looked up at her.

“You’re right…I just…I don’t know how to break it to him.” You friend gave you a sympathetic look and you knew this would be some of the hardest news you’d ever have to break to anyone. You weren’t 100% sure how he’d react, but you knew you had to tell him.

You had been avoiding him for the past few days after you found out. But you didn’t really have to, as he had been giving you the silent treatment for the past few days anyways. Your most recent outburst didn’t help you out much in that field, and you were trying to figure out a good way to bring it up to him. Trying to find the right time was the current issue. Things had been so tense since your hormones had started to go crazy, and you were so anxious that you had ruined a core piece of your relationship permanently because of them. It was a Saturday night, and Hesh had been home from work all day. He had barricaded himself in his office all day, and you stayed in bed for most of the day, trying to work your way around your newfound nausea battles. It had been in and out of the bathroom since 5 that morning, and it was currently nearing 7. You groaned and decided that it was a good time to shower and go to bed. You inhaled sharply and decided that you would at least try talking to Hesh first. You knocked on his office door and slowly opened the door, peeking your head around as you slid it open.

“Babe?” You called out quietly. Hesh was sitting at his desk, typing away at something on his computer before he grunted out, not even turning towards you.

“You’re supposed to wait for me to say ‘come in’ before you come in y’know.” He responded coldly, continuing to type away on his keyboard. You felt your lip quiver. You knew you had been mean the last few weeks, but you didn’t realize you had been so mean that he was giving you the cold shoulder.

“Sorry..I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” You mumbled, turning on your heel and slowly closing the door behind you. You felt tears begin to prickle in your eyes as you walked through your hallway to your bedroom. You could hear a quiet but defeated sigh come from the office, and you wiped your tears as you gathered some comfortable pajamas from your dresser drawer. You opened the door to your bathroom and entered, turning the shower on as you got things set up for your nighttime routine. You stripped yourself down and entered the shower, the warm water washing away some of the tension in your aching muscles. You inhaled as the steam rose, and you hummed quietly. You placed your hands on your stomach and rubbed it gently. You had your first appointment with the doctors on Monday, and you knew you had to tell Hesh soon. You wanted him to be there with you at the first appointment, but you still had to make sure he was on board with the whole thing. Not to mention patching up the last few weeks of hostility. You shook your head and rinsed yourself off, stepping out of the shower to dry yourself off and slip into your comfortable clothes for the night.

The time was now 11:30, and you were still awake in bed. You knew you should sleep, you hadn’t gotten a good full night the past few days due to morning sickness, but your body just wouldn’t let you sleep. You tossed and turned and eventually gave up, resting on your side and staring out of your window, looking up into the night sky as the moon shone through your open blinds. You heard your bedroom door creek open, and you heard footsteps approaching your bed. You didn’t turn over, but you were happy to hear your husband coming to bed. You had been going to bed before he did or after he did the last few days, so this would be the first time you’ve gone together for a bit. You didn’t say anything and instead kept looking up at the moon until you felt the opposite side of the bed dip, and you slowly turned your head towards him as he crawled under the covers next to you. Hesh noticed your head turn and he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“What are you still doing up? I thought you went to bed almost 4 hours ago.” He mumbled, pulling the covers up towards him. You exhaled through your nose and muttered out.

“I couldn’t sleep…I just..I couldn’t.” Your eyes wandered over his form until they met with his eyes. His hardened gaze softened a little as he scanned your swollen red eyes and puffy cheeks.

“Were you crying?” He reached his hands up and cupped your cheeks, rubbing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. Your lip began to tremble once again and you gave a small nod, avoiding his gaze as tears welled again. He bit the inside of his cheek and sighed. “I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole to you earlier. Or anytime the past few days really. It’s just..you’ve had a bit of an attitude lately and I don’t know what I did wrong. Did I do something wrong? Or did something happen that I don’t know about?” He questioned, continuing to stroke his thumb over your cheek. You bit your lip and slowly slid yourself up onto your knees, sitting over him. He slid up onto his elbows and cocked an eyebrow at you. You began to speak in a quiet voice.

“No…no you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m..I’m really sorry I’ve been so bitchy and mean lately..” you balled the blanket up in your fists as you sighed. “You didn’t deserve that…I’ve just..everything has been so out of wack lately..” you voice broke at the end of your sentence as the tears began to stream down your hot cheeks, and Hesh sat up fully and pulled you into a warm hug.

“Hey hey, it’s okay…don’t even worry about it, okay? I promise you I’m not mad..at least not anymore..and whatever is wrong, we’ll work through it together. Just tell me what’s up and we’ll figure it out, alright?” He pulled away and brushed some strands of hair out of your face. You looked up at him with a nervous gaze and opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. This went on for a few moments before Hesh furrowed his brows at you questioningly. “What?”

You couldn’t bare to keep it in any longer. And there was simply no time like the present.

“I’m…I’m pregnant.”

The both of you froze for a moment. Hesh’s eyes went wide and he stared right back at you with a blank expression. You stared back with a nervous one, and you waited for a while agonizing minute for him to respond.

“You’re..you’re pregnant?” Hesh whispered. You swallowed hard and nodded at him, whispering back.

“Yes..”

You were engulfed in a tight bear hug, and you could hear a choked out sob exit your husband’s mouth. Your eyes widened and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging him back just as tightly. You could hear him sobbing quietly into your hair as you felt tears coming from your own eyes. Were these happy sobs you heard, you weren’t quite positive until Hesh pulled away, a small smile lining his tear stricken face.

“I’m gonna be a dad…and you’re gonna be a mom!” He exclaimed, sliding his hands from your shoulders down to your stomach. “How long have you known?” He looked up at you with a new shimmer in his vibrant green eyes. You smiled softly.

“Only a couple of days…I haven’t even had my first doctors appointment yet, but I took about 3 tests, and all came out positive.” You placed your hands over his on your stomach and you leaned in to kiss him gently. He kissed you back, this time with the same sweet passion that you had missed for the past few days. You hummed against his lips before you pulled away. “My first appointment is Monday.” You smiled as he beamed at you.

“I’m taking off of work then. I want to be there for your first appointment. And every other appointment from here on out.” He placed a hand on your cheek again, grinning from ear to ear. You bit your cheek as you searched his gaze shyly.

“So…you’re not upset? You want to have this baby with me?” He gave you a confused look and leaned in to give you another gentle hug, placing his hand on the back of your head.

“Upset? Baby, this is the best news I’ve heard all week, or that I’ll ever hear in my life even.” He pulled away from you and took your hands in his. “I’m so happy to have you in my life baby. I was already happy to call you my wife, but now you’re going to be the mother of my children as well.” You couldn’t help the happy tears that streamed down your face as you sniffled and smiled at his sweet words. “I love you so much baby…please, don’t ever forget that.” You squeezed his hands and looked up at him with glistening eyes.

“I love you too, Hesh.”

Taglist; @kun3ho141 @milkteaarttime @forsworned @keegansshark @blacktacmopsi @pricebf

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! -💌

#call of duty headcanons #cod x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #cod ghosts fic #cod ghosts headcannons #hesh walker #hesh #hesh hivemind🍯#cod hesh #cod hesh headcannons #hesh walker x reader #hesh x reader #hesh cod #david hesh walker

90 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 1 year ago

Text

Daughter, Lover, Sister (Oneshot)

The Impossible Choice Series Special Chapter

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[description: Aemond is sent to Storm’s End by his father to be trained in the nature of battle and warfare under Borros Baratheon eye, in preparation for his future role as commander of his brother’s army. He is to choose one of his daughters as his future wife, but Borros only allows him to choose between four of them when his true desire is awakened by his fifth and youngest child.]

[warnings: masturbation, angst, sexual tension, rape attempt, violence, kind of incest but not actually]

This oneshot is an alternate reality from The Impossible Choice Series where, according to Aemond’s words in Chapter 49, he is sent to Storm’s End by his father when he is still just a child. It shows what would happen and how it would affect Aemond and Lady Baratheon, what his relationship with Borros, Royce and her other sisters would be like. This chapter tells the story of what happened between the events of the Brother, Lover, Son oneshot, which is from the same AU.

Part two of Brother, Lover, Son oneshot: To desire, to love, to care

Moodboards before you start reading and want feel the mood:

Aemond and Lady Baratheon • Storm’s End Stronghold • Baratheon Family • Lady Baratheon Gowns • Aemond • Lady Baratheon Mother

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Main story and my other fics: Masterlist

_____

When the first year had passed since his father had sent him to Storm's End to train in the arts of warfare under the tutelage of Lord Baratheon, he himself did not know how he felt about it.

On the one hand, the anger and sadness that had been churning in his heart when he had arrived at their fortress was still alive in him, but on the other, he was catching himself thinking that he had become used to this place, to its sounds, its smells, his bed and his chamber.

He had become accustomed to training daily with Royce under Borros' guidance, usually accompanied by his youngest daughter learning archery alongside them. When their sparring was over and he went to rest, Royce would stay with her sometimes, training her in sword fighting.

He had also become accustomed to her presence.

If he had to describe her he would say she was wild and bubbling with energy: everything pleased and excited her. Royce said that she had the nature of an explorer and he partly agreed with him.

He was surprised to find that she remembered exactly what he said to her, including when he spoke about something concerning King's Landing or his heritage, and sometimes she would ask him about it, wanting to know more.

"Who chooses the dragon's egg for the newborns?" She asked one day, lying on the floor of the library next to the table at which he sat.

She had scattered sheets of parchment in front of her on which she had drawn various characters and scenes with coloured pastels in sweeping, sure movements.

He looked down at her from his book, wondering where her question had suddenly come from.

"Parents." He replied dryly, returning to the paragraph he had finished on.

"And how do they know that the one they chose is the right one?" She asked further without even looking at him, wiggling her legs, wondering which shade of yellow would best match the colour of Cassandra's hair, which she had just portrayed with straight lines.

She finally decided on a warm, sunny shade and with intense movements began to apply the colour around her head, not caring too much about the accuracy of her hairstyle.

He looked at her, thinking about this question.

He had never given it much thought and found it actually quite an interesting issue.

He shifted in his seat and grunted, embarrassed that he couldn't give her a confident answer.

"I don't know. They just have a hunch." He muttered finally, deciding that was the best explanation.

He tried not to think about the fact that perhaps if his father had chosen a different egg for him, a dragon would have hatched from it.

However, that was no longer relevant.

Now he had Vhagar.

He heard her hum with curiosity, cocking her head, considering his words.

"From your egg hatched Vhagar?" She asked finally, leaning over her pastel box again.

He pressed his lips together at her words, frustrated; he had been pretending to read for several minutes, involuntarily focused on their exchange.

"No." He said coolly, turning the page with a sudden, aggressive movement.

He felt her glance at him, sensing his frustration, and she spoke no more, all around them only the sound of pastels rubbing against parchment.

When his Name Day had come, he hadn't expected anyone to know about it. As usual, he got a gift from his mother, who gave him some new books, he also got a new leather belt from Ser Criston.

He was surprised, however, when Lord Borros summoned him to his chamber.

He had never been in his quarters before.

As he walked inside, Borros rose from his chair standing right next to the window and commanded him with a movement of his hand to come closer. He saw that there were five daggers of various lengths on the table, each with a different handle, but all containing a dragon motif. He blinked, surprised to feel his heart pound hard as Lord Baratheon began to speak.

"Each of these daggers symbolises something. The qualities every boy must have to become a true men. Honour. Courage. Wisdom. Justice. Humility. May each of these daggers remind you of these things. They are my gift to you." He said in a low, throaty voice, and he swallowed loudly, stepping closer to the table.

He wasn't sure he'd ever seen such beautifully crafted weapons, the dragon-like figures wrapped around the handles in different ways: when he took each one in his hand they were comfortable and light, he spun them easily between his fingers.

He didn't know what to say, so he simply thanked him.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he had been looking at them all day, enthralled by their detail, watching them closely.

For some reason he felt proud, he felt noticed, seen.

He had no idea how he knew that today was the day, but he felt grateful that he had shown him some kind of fatherly affect and interest.

He was surprised once again at their supper, in addition to the usual hot dishes he saw large platters of cakes, Borros thundered that today they were celebrating Prince Aemond's Name Day, and then each of his children came up to hand him gifts.

He did not open them, accepting them only and laying them down beside him, embarrassed and confused, not knowing what to say or where to look.

Never before had anyone celebrated this important day for him so pompously.

At the very end, Borros' youngest daughter approached him, a large piece of paper in her hand. She took a chair that stood not far away, moved it with a loud sound of wood rubbing against the stone floor and sat down next to him, evidently recognising that she had to explain to him exactly what he was about to look at.

She placed a sheet of paper in front of him which was all filled with drawings. He recognised himself in the figure with the blue hair and the eyepatch; he was in each of the scenes.

"Here you are flying through the skies on your great dragon burning your awful enemies." She said pointing her finger at his figure riding dragon in such a tone of voice as if she had just been explaining war strategy to him, something very serious and requiring focus.

He felt his lips involuntarily twitch in a grin, but tried not to laugh.

"Here we are you, me and Royce, here you are when you are sword fighting and you are very focused then. Here are you and me when I jump on you suddenly and you get very angry, oh, and here, here are us as you read to me in the library about dragons that time." She spoke quickly and paused after a moment, reminding herself that she had to swallow her saliva.

"And here is all our family." She finished her explanation and looked at him proudly, a wide smile on her face.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, and although he felt amusement at seeing these naïve, simple, childlike drawings, he also felt a tightness in his throat at her words and the way she showed him.

Here is our whole family.

She didn't position him sideways in the drawing: he was standing among them, next to her and Royce, and although his face was the only one that didn't express contentment, he felt some kind of warmth from this portrayal. He knew that she had put all her effort and abilities into it, wanting to give him something of herself.

He thought with surprise that he was somehow touched.

"Gods, do you mean that you want to give our Prince these scribbles? Give it to me, forgive her, my Prince, don't laugh at her, she's just a child." Cassandra said impatiently, as if she had just chastised her own child. Her sister pressed her drawing to her chest crumpling it, horror in her eyes and tears at her words.

"No, I drew it and it's my gift!" She mumbled in despair, hurt by what she had said and that she thought her present was unworthy of him when she had clearly put her whole heart into it.

Borros told Cassandra to sit down and leave her little sister alone. He looked at her uncertainly, but she didn't give him back his gift, just took it and ran out of the hall with a loud, childish sob. Royce stood up with a loud sigh saying he would follow her.

He ate his cake to the end and then said he would retire to bed. He returned to his chamber with all the rest of the gifts he had received and began to unwrap them.

From Royce he received a war-themed book, from Cassandra an embroidered handkerchief, from Maris an ornate wooden box, from Ellyn new black leather gloves and from Floris a lock of her hair.

He wondered if Royce had already reassured his little sister.

He heard a quiet knock and, fearing it was Floris, answered nothing, but heard Royce's voice a moment later on the other side of his door.

"May I come in?"

He got up from his bed, putting the book he had got from him aside and opened the door, letting him in. For a moment he seemed troubled and didn't know how to put into words what he wanted to say.

"Listen. I know it's her childish invention, but she's been excited about drawing it for you for days. She threw out some of her drawings saying they weren't good enough and that this one was perfect. I understand it's probably just a scribble to you, but right now she's suffering terribly thinking you share Cassandra's opinion, but even if that's the case, just accept it, put it away, do what you want with it." He said, shrugging his shoulders. He sighed heavily, rolling his eye.

As Royce left he moved towards her chamber and knocked loudly.

"Go away, Royce!!!!" He heard her angry mumble, clearly still reliving her painful humiliation.

"I came for my gift. It's rude to give and then take away." He said loudly and coldly. He heard her get up suddenly and run quickly to the door.

She opened it, her big eyes looking up at him, her face all red.

"I crumpled it up a bit…then, at dinner and…I'll draw a new one." She muttered, and he held out his hand with an expression of impatience on his face.

"I want this one. Give it back or I'll take it from you by force." He said angrily. She whined in despair and gave him back her work, starting to cry loudly again, closing the door in front of his face with a loud slam.

He returned to his chamber and sat on his bed, looking at the crumpled sheet of paper with representations of his figure. He folded it in half and tucked it under his pillow, sometimes looking at it when he missed King's Landing, feeling a kind of comfort then.

A few years passed and his Name Day was always celebrated in a similar way. It frustrated him that he was then required to interact more than usual, nevertheless there was something pleasant about the fact that they always remembered about him.

Especially as he was no exception, the Name Day of each of Borros' children, including himself, was celebrated.

However, when the Name Day of his youngest daughter came and she had finally reached an age where she could attend feasts and dances organised by her father, and young boys could vie for her hand, Borros organised several days of hunting, which would end with a great supper and revelry.

Although he had witnessed how she was changing, how she was slowly ceasing to be a child and becoming a woman, it was only at this point that it occurred to him that this transformation had already happened.

He was surprised to find that her shape had already become girlish, the outline of her breasts had become clear and full, her hips wider. Although she still looked like a child next to her sisters, it was from her that he could not turn his gaze away.

During the hunt, she ran up to him when she saw that he was going to pour himself some water in the stream, joining him, apparently wanting to say something to him in private.

"I have an idea what gift you could give me for my Name Day." She called out cheerfully, smiling from ear to ear, contentment and warmth in her gaze. He raised his eyebrow, putting his beaker in the water.

"Indeed?" He asked ironically, rising, taking a few deep sips of water. He wanted to avoid her, but she moved behind him, speaking further.

"I want to fly on Vhagar's back into the skies!" She said lightly, as if she was speaking about what she was going to eat for dinner.

He choked in surprise and started coughing loudly, covering his mouth with his hand, looking at her in disbelief. She wanted to pat him on the back, but he moved away, shaking his head.

"You've gone mad. What kind of insolent demands are these?" He growled frustrated, but she didn't seem to care about his reaction. She stepped closer to him, her eyes shining with joy.

"It's not a demand, it's my dream. And when is a better time to fulfil it than on my Name Day?" She asked softly, and he shook his head and snorted, chuckling under his breath in disbelief.

"I'm not here to fulfil your desires. I'm surprised you're not embarrassed to ask for something like that." He hissed, sidestepping her by bumping his shoulder against hers, her quiet hiss answered him.

What was she thinking?

Who was she to ride his dragon with him?

Her sisters had begged him for years to take them to her liege, but he had never agreed, and she thought he would let her fly on her back?

She saw that she had upset him and stayed away from him all day, speaking only to her father and her brother. He felt a sense of frustration, however, seeing her stopped by one of the tents by a lord who had been watching her all day.

A cocky young lad whom he remembered well from Borros' feasts in Storm's End.

He knew he had a similar attitude to women as Aegon, and she was innocent and naive, unable to see the subtext in his words and gestures.

He felt shivers of discomfort pass through him every time the boy leaned over her, whispering something in her ear. She looked at him puzzled and laughed, clearly not knowing herself what she thought of his words.

Only after a moment did he realise that his hands were clenched into fists, that he had been looking at them for a long time like an imbecile.

He figured it wasn't his problem, turning away, reminded of how much she had taken him out of balance, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet.

However, he felt a tingling in his fingers when he heard his laughter, his hand on hers, saying something to her quickly, pulling her towards the fire, clearly wanting to show her something.

He clenched his teeth, feeling anxious and uncomfortable, tense, as if something was about to happen.

He thought he wasn't her brother, but the idea that this boy could do to her what Aegon was doing to his servants made him feel a cold sweat on the back of his neck.

He was immensely relieved when he saw her move towards him, leaving the boy alone, apparently figuring out his intentions at last.

He grunted loudly, taking another sip of wine greedily, pretending not to feel his fingers trembling, his heart pounding like mad as she sat down beside him on the large wooden bench at the huge oak table, her father's vassals on the other side drinking wine.

He swallowed quietly without looking at her, feeling a surprisingly pleasant shudder when her thigh pressed against his, her arm against his shoulder. He figured there wasn't much space on the bench and that was why she'd done it, that there was no undertone to it, but he felt a painful pulsing in his breeches anyway.

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to offend you." She said quietly, and he hummed under his breath with his gaze fixed ahead.

He didn't dare to look at her.

"Will you forgive me, my Prince?" She asked softly, using the right phrase at last, usually calling him simply her brother.

Satisfied with this change, he nodded and felt her body move closer to his.

He did not move away.

He fought the strenuous urge to place his hand on her thigh and cursed in his mind, wondering what the hell he was thinking, what right he had to touch her like that.

Their relationship went back to normal, which meant that the two of them were talking to Royce at the same table. Her father gave permission for her to try wine for the first time and Royce decided that they would accompany her on this new experience. He poured her a full cup without a second thought, and he looked at it with raised eyebrows.

"Isn't that too much?" He asked uncertainly, Royce laughed out loud.

"After all, if she doesn't want to drink to the end, she won't. Nobody's going to make her. Here here!" He said, raising his cup, Aemond and she also took a sip, both of them watching her reaction curiously.

She coughed, wrinkling her brow, uncertainty on her face as to what she thought of the taste that had just melted in her mouth.

"Tart. And I feel like it's warm in my stomach right now." She said in surprise, looking questioningly at her brother, for the first time feeling the intoxicating effects of alcohol. Royce took another deep sip from his goblet with amusement.

"Oh, you're going to get very warm." He laughed and indeed she did.

Although she didn't drink much, her tongue soon began to tangle – he watched from the sidelines as she danced with her brother by the fire along with other couples to the music of local musicians and fiddlers.

She seemed more joyful and happy than ever, sweat droplets on her face from exertion, she and Royce complemented each other perfectly in the dance, moving with energy and vigour.

She said something in Royce's ear and pointed to the woods – her bother laughed and nodded, clearly understanding that she had to go there to settle her needs quickly.

Royce asked one of her cousins to dance and Aemond, meanwhile, led her away with his eye. He pressed his lips together as he saw the same boy she had spoken to earlier following her into the darkness.

He stood up suddenly, furious, the alcohol bubbling in his head, making the figures around him seem indistinct. He walked off into the forest, walking between the trees and looked around, hearing the sound of a river not far away. After a moment, someone's mumbling reached his ears.

"− oh, I can manage on my own − no − please don't −" She muttered wearily – he saw her silhouette and above her his, trying to untie the fabric of her breeches, her hands clenched on his wrists in a helpless gesture of defence.

He walked up to him and slammed his head with all his might against the tree trunk she was leaning against, hearing her loud squeal of terror.

Only then did he realise that she was breathing loudly, shaking all over, looking at him in horror.

"− I didn't − I swear I didn't − it's not what you think − he −" She mumbled out, and he felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought that she believed he'd accused her of wanting it, of being guilty.

She whined as the material of her breeches began to slide off her hips and she caught it quickly, almost falling over, barely catching her balance.

He caught her with his heart pounding hard, feeling a strange kind of pain in his chest, seeing her so vulnerable, helpless and terrified, her breath uneven and loud, on the verge of crying.

He helped her tie back her breeches and readjusted her shirt. Pushed by some sudden, hot feeling he blamed on alcohol he pulled her close and snuggled her into himself, sinking his hand into her soft hair, her fingers tightening on the material of his leather tunic.

"Did he touch you?" He asked in a trembling voice, and she shook her head.

She sniffed with her nose, drawing in the air loudly – he could hear her crying, her body soft and warm, smelling of her scent and the wine that made his head spin. His manhood pulsed hard feeling the closeness of her body, his semi-conscious mind wondering if she felt it.

He looked with a cold, indifferent gaze towards the boy who began to rise from his knees with a quiet hiss, clutching his head.

"Lord Baratheon will find out about what you were trying to do." He hissed, lifting her up by her hips, allowing himself to be embraced by his neck, heading towards the camp.

The boy behind him exclaimed that he hadn't done anything and that she was the one encouraging him, but he decided he would deal with it later, feeling her all quivering in his arms.

"− don't tell father − what he will think of me − please −" She whispered helplessly in his ear, her cheek nestled against his face.

He headed towards her tent from behind, walking in the shadows between the trees so that no one would notice them. He waited until the guards had passed to the other side and slipped inside.

He walked with her to her bedding spread on the soft grass and slowly laid her down on it, but her arms still held him close, wrapped around his neck.

"− you have to let go of me − I have to leave −" He whispered, but at his words she hugged him even tighter, his nose against her cheek, he could smell the pleasant aroma of her smooth hair.

They both breathed through their mouths, he could feel their bodies trembling – he knew they were both drunk, however he couldn't help what he felt, the fact that he had become completely hard lying like this between her thighs, feeling the warmth of her body beneath him.

Her grip finally eased, her hands falling inertly on either side of her head. He raised himself up on his elbows and looked at her, her face far too close to his, her pink, glossy lips parted slightly, her gaze dreamy, tender, warm. He thought it was the alcohol and that he should get up, but instead he looked at her, fighting with himself and what he desired.

"− sleep −" He said coolly, getting up at last, deciding that no one could find them in such a position. He rose, her gaze watching him vigilantly, her chest rising and falling slowly, her hair scattered in disarray around her head.

He thought with pain that she no longer looked like a child, but like a woman, a lover, gentle and soft – he imagined how warm she must have been inside, that her kisses would have been sweet and hot, moist with her saliva.

He felt ashamed of his thoughts, anger and frustration building up inside him.

She was one of Borros' daughters, he could have chosen her as his wife.

So why did it seem inappropriate to him?

Everyone expected him to choose Ellyn – she was his equal, beautiful and clever, humble and sweet, perfectly mannered. She would certainly fulfil the role of his wife with full devotion.

But Ellyn was too fragile in his eyes, too delicate – she was afraid of his harsh answers and cold disposition. She thought he treated her that way because she had done something wrong or he wasn't fond of her, when in fact that was his way of being.

It was her youngest sister who really understood him: she could read his expressions accurately, guessing when he was content, tired or frustrated. She reacted to his anger with laughter – she wasn't afraid of him despite the fact that he was much taller and stronger than her.

His stern, harsh words didn't impress her and didn't seem to hurt her because she knew they didn't stem from his feelings for her but from his nature.

He was not a pleasant, cheerful or talkative person and he did not want to be. He knew that Ellyn would live in the hope that she would change him, that with her he would become a gentle, laughing, joyful man. He realised that this would never happen, that they would both tire of each other.

He felt nothing for her, except a kind of brotherly concern.

This stood in stark opposition to what he felt now, looking at her, completely drunk, standing in her tent, watching her face. Her gaze was fixed on him, yet there was something in it that he had not seen before, something he was hot from, some kind of desire and affection that he wanted so badly to see.

He turned and walked away, feeling that he was on the verge of doing something very bad.

He did well to do so, for he ran straight into a terrified Royce, his eyes wide open.

"Have you seen her anywhere? I've been looking for both her and you, but she's nowhere to be found…"

"She's in her tent. She felt worse and I led her there. She's sleeping." He said lowly, turning his face away, trying to sound indifferent, his fingers rubbing against each other nervously.

"I'm worried about something else, though."

He couldn't hide a mischievous, dark grin of satisfaction when Borros burst furiously into the tent of the boy's father, who was trying to insult and abuse his daughter.

Borros as far as his children were concerned was like a great, enraged bear, capable of tearing apart anyone in his path. He ordered them to leave the hunt immediately.

He said that he would remember this insult forever and that they had nothing left to look for in his fortress.

When it was all over he surprised him by coming up to him and patting him on his shoulder.

"Thank you for going after them, for protecting her. I've never been more proud of you." He said lowly, somehow touched, and he looked at him wide-eyed, not expecting those words at all, completely frozen. He merely nodded and returned to his tent when Lord Baratheon told him to rest.

He thought Borros would have killed him if he had known what he was thinking about as he fucked himself with his own hand lying on his bedding.

That he imagined he had not left her tent then, but stayed with her, that he had kissed her, that he had brushed her neck with his full lips, her soft breasts, that he had touched her with his fingers, down there, and then sunk between her thighs and listened to her sweet moans that ripped from her throat with each of his greedy, deep thrusts.

He came hard panting loudly, his warm spend spilling down his hand, his whole body trembling, sweaty and welted, filled with fulfilment and pleasure.

Never before in his life had he come so hard.

The next day, he and she avoided each other's gazes at the breakfast they ate with Borros and Royce, knowing that what had happened between them was not entirely innocent. He figured they would both blame the alcohol for sure and simply not revisit the subject.

That's exactly what happened.

The last day of her Name Day celebrations was a big feast where she was finally officially allowed to sit at a table, drink and dance like a grown woman. She walked inside through a side entrance and he felt his throat tighten at the sight of her.

The cut of her gown caused its fabric to hug her waist beneath her breasts, covered only by a thin white chemise, her sleeves tied to her dress with coloured ribbons had slits from under which the white fabric shone through.

He thought with amazement that at the same time it was a very daring choice, even defiant, on the other hand she looked proud and magnificent, her gown shimmered pearly and was embroidered with bright stones.

He looked away, taking a deep sip of wine from his cup.

In keeping with tradition, she was asked to dance again and again. The right of her first dance was of course with Borros and Royce, but then various lords and knights began to approach her, demanding to experience the same pleasure with her.

She accepted their hands with joy and delight, dancing with verve and lightness. He tried to divert his attention from the sting of jealousy every time he looked at the hands of the men lying on her waist, touching her palms.

He didn't recognise himself, but fought strenuously against the thought of asking her to dance, even though he hated it and hadn't done it with any of her sisters, knowing they would take it as an insult.

He hesitated, assuming on the one hand that he had been close with her and Royce forever, on the other he feared that the guests would take it as an expression of his will, his proof that he had already chosen Lord Baratheon's daughter whom he wished to marry.

He shuddered as Royce leaned over him, snapping him out of his reverie.

"I ordered a beautiful dagger for her with a deer motif on the hilt. She's always dreamed of one, I'm curious to see if she'll like it." He said excitedly, running his hand over his chin, and he hummed at his words.

Gifts for her sisters were always chosen by his mother, and usually it was jewellery or gowns from King's Landing.

For her, however, he had decided to choose the gift himself, and had ordered some interesting books for her from the Citadel about dragons flying through the centuries in Westeros, with beautiful, rich illustrations, knowing that she wanted to expand her knowledge on the subject.

He swallowed loudly when he saw that she had approached them with a smile, all welted and settled over them, warmth, contentment and fatigue beaming from her face, her breasts hidden under the thin material of her white shirt rising and falling with effort, making him unable to look away.

"I see you're not complaining about the lack of dancing, sister." Royce said in amusement. She laughed heartily at his words and shook her head, taking the goblet from him, taking a deep sip of wine.

"No, but I'm terribly hot. I've come to hide with you, to give me at least a moment's peace." She said softly, standing between them, placing her hands on the backs of their chairs and sighed loudly.

Borros, seeing her, stood up and walked over to her, grasping her face in his large, rough hands, looking at her proudly.

"My beautiful child. When did you grow up like this? Who will you dance with now? Has our prince already asked for this honour?" He asked with joy, and he almost choked on the sip of wine he had just taken, looking at him shocked.

His daughter shook her head quickly, turning suddenly pale, feeling the discomfort of the whole situation, knowing that he had never danced with anyone.

"Father." She laughed, trying to turn it into a joke, Royce pressed his lips together, turning his gaze away, not wanting to look at it. Borros blinked as if he didn't understand what she meant.

"As I understand it then, our prince does not consider you a sufficiently worthy partner for him." He said coldly. He pressed his lips together at his words, feeling the tension throughout his body, his heart pounding like mad.

"Father, please." She mumbled, horrified and ashamed of his words, of the fact that he was trying to force him to do something he didn't want to do.

He stood up furiously, reaching his hand out to her, and she shook her head.

"Are you refusing me?" He asked with a sneer, saw that her eyes had turned red, her eyebrows arched in pain, her lips trembled.

It wasn't her fault and he knew it, but he was furious anyway.

She placed her hand on his palm and together they descended the stairs to the stone floor, as he had feared, causing a general sensation and confusion.

"Forgive him, please, I don't know what's gotten into him." She whispered, he could feel her fingers shaking in his hand. He stood before her and bowed, music echoed around them.

They took the right position, their two hands entwined above their heads, two lying on their waists: they rotated to the rhythm, changing to the opposite position every few bars, moving the other way.

She looked at him and cried, and he felt an ache in his heart, felt that he wanted it and didn't want it at the same time.

She looked so beautiful and so helpless.

"– don't cry –" He whispered a little more softly, moving back towards her to the rhythm of the music and grabbing her again with the embrace of his arm, he felt the touch of her hand on his waist. "– don't cry –"

They turned again – this time he pulled her closer to him, so that if he leaned in more their foreheads would touch, her misty, sad gaze fixed on him, only on him.

"– forgive me –" She whispered with difficulty, and he pressed his lips together, wondering if she was apologising to him for being forced to dance against his will, or for some other reason that she, like him, hid deep in her heart.

If he could, if they were alone, he would have leaned over and kissed her wet cheek, and then the other, and then he would have sunk into her soft lips, thus showing her how wrong she was, how much she did not understand the reason for his frustration and anger.

He found with some kind of regret that the music had ended too soon, too abruptly. They bowed to each other, and, following good manners, he escorted her to her seat.

She threw him one quick distraught, apologetic look, and he didn't know what he could say, so he said nothing and sat down again next to Royce, taking a deep sip of wine. Royce grunted loudly.

"Forgive our father. He…"

"Let's not talk about it." He interrupted him mid-sentence. Royce sighed heavily and nodded, knowing that getting anything out of him would have no effect.

The feasting and dancing continued, his gaze drawn to Floris, who stood up after a moment, moving towards her youngest sister. He saw her leaning over her, whispering something in her ear, pain, humiliation, disbelief running through her face, her brow arching in shame.

Whatever she said to her made her get up and leave the hall.

She did not return.

Borros became concerned when he noticed her absence and, as usual, Royce was the one who went to check on her. He, however, looked intensely at Floris, who gave him a brief, satisfied look and smiled. He clenched his hand into a fist at this sight and looked expectantly at Royce when he returned, sitting back down next to him.

"She won't open the door for me. She said she feels unwell and want to rest, that it is because of the wine." He explained to his father, and he nodded.

He knew it wasn't the wine.

As he walked back to his chamber he stopped in front of her door, listening for any sounds, but all he heard was silence. He wondered whether to knock or ask her what her sister had said, but decided in the end that it was none of his concern.

He was already about to move on, tired and discouraged, when he heard the sound of the lock clicking open and the door opened – she stood in front of him in nothing but her nightgown and she jumped up, terrified.

He stared at her with wide eyes, at the barely visible silhouette of her naked body, and was unable to look away, his voice caught in his throat. She seemed as shocked as he was, so for a moment they just looked at each other.

"Something happened?" She asked uncertainly, apparently wanting to understand for what reason he was still standing there and not moving. He licked his lips involuntarily, feeling that they were dry from anxiety, and swallowed quietly.

"What did Floris tell you?" He asked feigning indifference, pretending not to feel his heart pounding hard as he played with his fingers in a gesture of nervousness and insecurity.

She pressed her lips together at his question and tensed all over, lowering her gaze. She was silent for a moment.

"…that I'm a whore. That she heard I went with a men alone between the trees at night while hunting. And that she knows I asked my father to persuade you to dance with me." She said in a trembling voice, shaking her head. "But that's not true, I…"

"I know." He replied dryly, clenching his hands into fists, not wanting her to explain herself to him.

"Get dressed in your training attire. I'll be waiting for you at the side entrance to the courtyard if you still want to see Vhagar." He said finally and set off ahead, not even giving her time to think, not waiting for her answer.

He had no idea what had possessed him to propose this. He didn't have a clue why the words suddenly burst out of his mouth, but he realised that after what had happened between them on the hunt, what he had felt, he wanted to be alone with her, without Royce, without her father, without Floris.

Just him and her.

To see how he would feel about it.

He waited for her in his long, black leather coat. He finally heard her uncertain footsteps – she had tied her long hair in a braid to keep it out of her way, her gaze uncertain and excited.

They moved ahead without a word, the night was clear and beautiful, moonless, only stars above them.

"Do you still want this?"

She swallowed loudly, looking at him surprised, trying to keep up with his quick pace.

"What are you asking?"

"About whether you still want to ride the dragon."

She pressed her lips together at his question, tears in her eyes, though he did not know for what reason. She nodded her head quickly, in her gaze some kind of gratitude, tenderness and warmth that made him hot.

He felt her small fingers grasp his hand uncertainly – her skin was cold, so he thought nothing would happen if he warmed her – he deceived himself that this would speak well of him as a man.

He intertwined their fingers thinking that he had to keep her close, that he couldn't let her get sick or Borros would kill him.

He did not look at her, thinking only of how soft her skin was.

When they finally reached the hill where Vhagar had just rested, sleeping a stony sleep, they both stopped a short distance away so she could admire her silhouette from afar.

He felt her fingers squeeze his skin tighter: she hugged his arm and he stroked her hand with his thumb, as if this reassuring gesture towards her was the most natural thing in the world.

What was he doing?

Vhagar sensed his scent and slowly raised her large head, turning towards them, warm steam escaping from her nostrils as she exhaled. She knew there was a stranger with him, and looked curiously at the small figure standing behind him, for he had never yet allowed anyone but himself to approach her.

He felt her body pressed against his side and he glanced up at her, her eyes wide, disbelief painted on her face, one of her hands entwined with his fingers, the other clenched on his arm.

He thought with satisfaction that she could not get a word out.

"Lykirī, Vhagar." He said aloud, glancing at his dragoness, who was watching them vigilantly, her head raised high in the air resembling a great hill, her eyes glowing uneasily in the starlight.

"Come." He whispered to her and they moved ahead, led away by the gaze of her reptilian eyes, heading towards the ropes that hung from his saddle positioned on her back.

"You have to climb up there. Do you think you can do it?" He asked quietly, and she nodded. She grabbed one of the ropes and slowly began to pull herself up, clasping her legs against her large dragon scales.

"Won't she start breathing fire?" She asked in a trembling voice, and he chuckled under his breath.

"Not unless I order her to, so you'd better not get on my nerves and concentrate on climbing." He said dryly, and she snorted at his words, continuing to climb.

He belayed her from below, and when she finally climbed onto the seat, he climbed behind her with a few sure, quick movements, sitting down behind her. He wrapped a few ropes around her waist, sighing heavily, hoping it would be enough to keep her from falling.

"Hold on to the front of the saddle and don't scream so you don't distract her. Do you understand?" He asked lowly, trying to concentrate, gripping the ropes he was guiding her with in his hands and trying not think about how her buttocks were pushing against his manhood.

She nodded, doing exactly what he had condemned, tense and excited.

"Sōves, Vhagar!" He thundered, and the dragoness rose lazily on her great paws, spreading her wings, beginning to run ahead, everything around them trembling and shaking, the wind in their hair – he saw that she curled up in front of him and pressed her face against his saddle, clenching her eyes.

He felt like laughing at the sight.

Suddenly, with a single, powerful movement of her wings, she lifted herself with difficulty into the air, then higher and higher, until finally as they rose above the clouds he commanded her to level her flight and they began to glide through the skies.

Only then did he realise that he had pressed his face against her neck, that his whole lungs were filled with her scent.

He couldn't help how pleasurable it was.

"You can open your eyes. The worst is behind us." He said loudly knowing that she could barely hear him over the wheezing wind around them. She uncertainly lifted her head and looked around in disbelief, breathing unevenly, her whole body quivering.

She dared to look above her and saw only stars, beautiful, luminous, spreading across the black sky.

He felt her move back, laying her head on his shoulder so that she could still look up, their wind-cold cheeks pressed against each other, their hair flowing. He felt something wet on his skin and when he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye he saw tears running down her cheeks, her lips slightly parted.

"Whenever I was a child I always imagined that my mother, after her death, became one of the stars and shone in the sky." She choked out with difficulty, and he felt a squeeze in his throat suddenly understanding why soaring into the sky was her dream.

She wanted to be closer to her.

"Since everyone says that good people go to the heavens and live among the gods, that means she is there." She whispered, and he involuntarily put his arms around her waist, hugging his nose to her face. They lasted like that in this amazingly tender close embrace, the kind she had only shared with Royce so far.

Looking at them he wondered what it was like.

And now that she was so close, he only dreamed of pressing her lips to his own.

He shuddered as he felt her hands on his, her fingers beginning to run over his skin, shivers ran through him at her innocent, tender touch.

He had never been so close to anyone.

He had never wanted any woman as much as he wanted her at this moment.

"Thank you, brother." She whispered, looking up at him, and he felt a tightness in his throat and a rage, a helplessness at the thought that this was how she saw him, that she didn't see him as a men, just another Royce.

He imagined slipping his tongue between those wonderfully plump, full lips, clinging tightly to her mouth and sucking on its fleshy structure, the tips of their tongues licking each other in a lewd, sticky kiss.

He swallowed loudly and pressed his forehead to her temple.

He didn't want to be her brother.

He wanted to be her lover.

_____

Taglist 1

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

262 notes · View notes

bookishjules · 3 months ago

Note

any thoughts on how Simon and Isabelle will be around their in laws, I know we got to see a bit of it in the later books but would love to hear your thoughts

anon i will take any chance to talk about rebecca lewis <33 yes, i know there are more inlaws in question, and i will get to them, but i have been dying to talk about becky hehe plus there really is so much more to explore on the lewis side--naturally, since neither elaine nor rebecca have interacted with izzy in canon (insane btw).

sidenote: i kinda love how izzy only ever grew up with brothers, but gained a sister through simon (or two really, since we really must count clary, but you know, we're talking technicalities here), and that for simon, it's the opposite.

anyway, speaking of sisters hehe i genuinely think izzy and rebecca would get along well. i think iz would be a good source of.. fun i guess? for becky. like a good reminder to let loose. and i think becky would be a good resource for izzy, someone with a bit more age and wisdom that she can go to, someone who isn't maryse. and it's not like becky would be the only one offering advice. i think izzy would remind her to put herself first sometimes, to chase what she wants and to be kinda.. undeniable i guess. and i think they would laugh together and i think they would go shopping together, despite their very different fashion senses, and i think becky would maybe make some clothes for izzy and i think they would bond over the matching simon-shaped swell in their hearts.

i think becky is a common presence at the sizzy household. movie nights or game nights, or becky-cooked dinners (she might also try train some better cooking instincts into izzy while she's at it hehe), at least for a while until life things happen etc. i also think, and i know this is thinking a decent way further down the line, but i also think she'll be one of their go-to babysitters, since i don't think she'll get settled with her own family until she's in her 30s, and because i just know she'll want to be part of every second of that.

okay okay i think i need to stop talking about rebecca now or i will end up writing a novel..

i think their relationship with elaine is a lot more.. delicate. they don't see her nearly as often. because they can't be honest about the shadow world, for one, but also because i think she still has a little bit of.. not exactly loose canon, but something akin to that, in her. i think she wishes she got to see her son and daughter in law more, but i think there's this underlying anger for izzy any time they go to elaine's place, because even though it was years ago, izzy's first introduction to her personality was still through the lens of her condemning her son and kicking him out of the house at 16. and i also think izzy's seen how that reaction has affected simon, both in the direct aftermath, and in the years after he got his memories back.

i know levi is dead and wouldn't have any sort of relationship with izzy, but i do think simon would have taken her to levi's grave at some point to introduce them anyway. maybe around their wedding?

i really don't feel like there's much to say about the lightwoods that we haven't already seen, or that can't be easily extrapolated, but in spirit of fairness..

jace and simon are very much jace and simon. it's kinda hard to imagine their relationship changing much more than it already has. the comfortability and familiarity between them, the playful jabs, etc. i do think jace has probably begrudgingly gone to simon for a second (or third after clary, ig) opinion on some plans or strategies etc. he's having to make as an institute head. and i definitely think simon has tried to teach jace dnd, and had him over to play video games more than once.

i think simon and alec's relationship goes through more change than what we've been privy to. i think they have their bonding time doing target practice or over coffee after putting the kids to bed. they talk about politics and work and the sda. they also definitely talk about jace being an idiot lol

when it comes to maryse.. bro maryse is so hard for me. their relationship with her would be much closer than that they have with elaine, of course. and i think in maryse's effort to be more present with her family, she also makes a point to have a personal relationship with simon. they don't really have all that much in common, but simon has always seemed like something of a mom charmer to me. he's funny and smart and knows how to be polite. plus he really really cares about izzy. and i think it means a lot to maryse to see that. call it projection or mother's love or a little of both, but it's nice to have that reassurance that her daughter won't have to go through what she did.

#i loved this <3 #sizzy #simon lewis #isabelle lightwood #rebecca lewis #jace herondale #alec lightwood #maryse lightwood #elaine lewis #levi lewis #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tmi #the mortal instruments #vetted #asks #anon <3 #headcanon

52 notes · View notes

katuschka · 7 months ago

Text

Olalla – Chapter One

Josh Kiszka x female OC, Jake Kiszka

4.965 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings: sadness, heartbreak, talking about death, anxiety, alcohol consumption

Taglist

Next chapter Olalla masterlist

I had a dream that the sky above the mountains darkened,

but it was just my beloved’s darkening eyes.

I had a dream there was a lightning brightening the skies above those hills,

but it was just my beloved’s cheeks that lightened.

I had a dream in which I saw storm clouds approaching,

but it was just a boy making love to his beloved.

(I Had a Dream, Čechomor)

It was true that Jake and Josh had seen the world, but their trips and explorations were always restricted by time. Everything was scheduled, planned and adjusted to fit the itinerary. Wherever they went, it was – first and foremost – a “business trip”. Sometimes they had days in between shows, oftentimes just hours. Be there on time. We don’t have enough time. You can visit only one of those galleries this time. Maybe next time... They were now rapidly approaching thirty, but haven’t yet experienced the simple joy of backpacking with all its perks and benefits. Freedom being probably the most important of them.

So, when the last show ended and it was time to fly back home, they decided to stay behind for a little while. It was a spontaneous decision, made in Josh’s hotel room after having had one too many beverages with several other people, none of whom shared their enthusiasm. Everyone just wanted to go home. They say there’s nothing like home and it’s true that there had been times when it meant something to the two of them as well, even after months spent away from it. But right now, their beds back home were cold and empty – a sad consequence, as well as a memento, of the lives they’d lived and the things they’d done. Could it have been prevented? Maybe, but what is past is past. It was the present that could and should be taken care of, and there was still the future to be shaped.

Even though the others tried to talk sense into them and nearly succeeded, by 4 am, the two of them finally made up their minds that it was time to really choose the road. “Time to write my own fucking screenplay,” Josh said. After a short nap, they repacked the essentials, said their goodbyes and hopped the train that was supposed to take them to all those yet to be discovered places.

Because it was summertime, last-minute accommodation options were pretty limited in larger cities. That only made it even more exciting, though, and turned out to be quite beneficial in the end. More often than not, they had to share a room that only had one king size bed. Not only they didn’t mind, it seemed as the most natural thing to do, and they welcomed it. Sightseeing or hiking during daylight hours, they didn’t want to part and disappear in their separate dens in the evening, like they did on tour. Touring – with all the rush and stress and boredom – often made them feel lonely.

They knew they had been hurting, they were well aware of the reasons why, but there had not been enough time to come clean about it. So, now, their late night talks often ended with at least one of them crying as the reminiscences of the people who no longer wanted to be part of their lives turned into shared melancholy.

Sharing…that’s what the trip turned out to be really about. Two brothers who once shared a womb, who later forged their mutual dreams about healing humankind through art into their shared destiny. Now they opened up to each other about how much they feared loneliness and lack of love. And it was a shared fear, too. It wouldn't be fair to say that there wasn’t enough love or affection in their lives, on the contrary. They were showered with it in great abundance. Their parents, siblings, other family members and all their numerous friends all loved them dearly and unconditionally, simply because they existed. The plentitude of it, including their mutual love for each other, shaped their personalities and nurtured their souls as they grew up.

That’s how they learned about the importance of love. They knew very well how lucky they were. Forever grateful, they wanted to share it and to pass it on…and then they were told that they didn’t. The reality hit them in their faces like a freight train loaded with reproach.

That’s how they found themselves mourning the kind of love they thought they failed to provide, the one they thought they consequently didn’t deserve. Once they conceded this to each other, they had to face the fact that they felt ashamed. They also had to admit that their own broken hearts still hurt, the raw and barely healed wounds opening up again during those midnight talks. A few times they fell asleep in a comforting embrace.

Wawel Castle, Krakow

“I think we should head back to the hotel.”

When Jake came back from the bathroom, Josh was still leaning over the railings, looking down at the river bend just below the high stone outer wall. He felt so much at peace up here, the fragrant summer air saturated with the scent of trees, damp stone, vanilla ice cream – as well as sudden whiff of ozone – filling his nostrils. They weren’t alone here. The courtyard was still full of people at this time of day, but the humidity muffled all the conversations as well as shrieking kids that were running around, and turned it all into a pleasant hum. It all felt almost dreamlike. Somewhere in the distance, less than a hundred miles further south, were the mountains…

Their adventure was nearing the end, it was their time to fly home the next day. It had rained heavily that morning and the forecast for the whole day promised volatile weather as the fronts collided, but that didn’t stop them. There were still a few places in Krakow which particularly Josh wanted to visit. Not really in a hurry, they went out for early lunch; later they were just idling around in the old town, eating pretzels and doughnuts, drunk on wine. It was almost 5 pm now.

“You're probably right,” Josh finally replied, looking at the sky with a frown, “but I’d really love to stay here a little longer.”

Jake didn’t say anything, just nodded. They stood next to each other for another ten minutes, overlooking the southern part of the city as well as ominous clouds that had formed near the horizon and were now slowly approaching. The wind was rising, playing with their hair, tossing the strands wildly from side to side. They should have been running for shelter by now, but the fresh breeze made them feel completely and utterly reckless. Jake started humming a familiar tune and Josh quickly chimed in:

“But the fool on the hill sees the Sun going down

And the eyes in his head see the world spinning 'round…” …and they bursted out laughing like two madmen as the other people around them scrambled in their feet, looking for a place to hide, girls squeaking as the first raindrops hit the ground.

Now they were running too, heading back to the Old Town, passing crowded restaurants and pubs that didn’t appeal to them anyway. People were running around like ants and the storm clouds and the heavy rain quickly covered the streets in a blanket of semi-darkness. Soon they no longer knew where they were headed. They obviously missed a turn back to the main square and not much later found themselves on a much more quiet and nearly abandoned street that probably wasn’t on a tourist map. The storm hit in full force.

“Not a fucking thunder,” Jake groaned. They were both already absolutely drenched. Trying to find their way back to the hotel in the pouring rain now proved completely futile as they were probably at least a mile away from it anyway, and being no longer in the area of fancy cafés and parfumeries, looking for shelter of any kind wasn’t that easy anymore, either. A small – and already closed – grocery shop here, a tenement doorway there…finally they spotted a pub that looked promising. Both of them craved a beer anyway.

The pub was pretty cozy and warm. It was actually more like a café, only situated below the street level, in the cellar of the building. They sat in silence for a while, but Josh was becoming increasingly restless with each minute, chewing his lip and tapping his fingers on the table.

“Ok, what’s going on,” Jake finally asked.

“I’m staying.”

When it was met with a half-confused, half-annoyed stare, he continued. “I mean, just for two more weeks. I’d like to go hiking.”

The confusion was gone. Jake was just annoyed now. “Explain. Where? Why?”

“The Tatras. A guy told me the other day… You were still asleep, so I went out to have some breakfast. You know, Krishna bistro across the street… The place was already crowded by 9 am so these two guys joined me at my table. They just came from their hiking trip down there and showed me some pictures.They called the place ‘miniature Alps’, so you can’t get lost,” he laughed nervously. “It’s a spur-of-the-moment thing, see? But I feel I need it.”

Jake needed a moment to decompress. This whole trip had been a “spur-of-the-moment thing”...and they did it together. They had also agreed that it was exactly what they needed, so what the fuck is this bullshit? Josh sensed the impending question even before Jake formed the words in his head.

“You still have some work you need to finish before the start or the next leg…but I don’t. That’s why I didn’t tell you before. You’d just try to convince me to go home with you. I know it’s a long flight…I’m sorry Jake, but I really need to do this. For once in my life.”

“It’s insane Josh. And probably dangerous. And it’s mid-season. You probably won’t even find free lodgings. Then what?”

“I already booked it. The guy gave me a tip. Jake…don’t be mad. You know it’s irrational. We’re adults.”

Jake was angry. But he had to agree that it was irrational. They drowned the irrationality in a few more beers and so it happened that the next day, their ways parted. Jake boarded the plane headed for Gatwick while Josh took the train south.

Jake

London, 12:15 pm

The weather improved considerably since yesterday, but I still couldn’t shake off the sense of impending doom. At first I thought that it was just the anxiety I often felt when flying, this time multiplied by the fact that I was completely alone thousands of miles away from home and wouldn’t even get there sooner than the next morning, at the very best. Only to be greeted by my housekeeper, if I were lucky. Then I remembered that since there was no one else there, she also only came on Mondays every other week while I was away, to do the most necessary tasks like making sure that the house wouldn’t be buried under a layer of gray dust when I came back.

However, I landed in London about half an hour ago, downed a beer, had a smoke, but the unpleasant feeling that something bad was about to happen still lingered. I couldn’t put my finger on it, all I knew was that I already missed Josh.

It was completely irrational. We were adults. I had no right to be angry that he stayed behind, but I was. We spent more time together in the last two weeks than we had in over a year. I mean really together, not just next to each other. It was supposed to be our trip, the purpose of which, among other things, was to shake off the growing feeling of loneliness that comes with this lifestyle. So, me being annoyed with him now was perhaps understandable. But anxious? As I said, I hate flying. Having to fly alone sucks and I was about to board a transcontinental plane later that afternoon. I finally convinced myself that anxiety was also understandable. Nothing to be ashamed of…I guess. Still, something seemed off.

Agnieszka

Zakopane, 5:40 am

I checked the weather app again. Yes, definitely a perfect day for a hike. The sky was perfectly clear after yesterday’s storm and the air coming through the open window felt crisp and fresh. With a bit of luck, it would stay that way well until early afternoon, although one could never be sure here.

That’s what I both love and hate about the mountains. Even now, at the age of total control over everything, the mountains are unpredictable, uncontrollable and untamed. Even if we destroyed all the life they harbour, bare and stony valleys would still kill you even more easily if you were bold and arrogant enough to venture too far. Many people come here to conquer the mountain. That’s why we hear the sound of rescue helicopters a few times a week.

Have you ever smelled wet granite? I don’t mean cobblestones or granite walls, but the rough stone, spewed out to the surface of the earth by the untamed power of this planet, broken and twisted with the forces of nature like plasticine…even though a small piece could easily break your skull. There are places here where jagged rock towers a kilometer over your head. When the clouds hang low, try just standing at the bottom of a glacial cirque, surrounded by numerous peaks. It’s a deeply humbling experience. The place literally breathes. You can hear it sing its ominous song and its cold breath can chill you to the bone. These places are indescribably majestic and beautiful…and also scary when you experience the power firsthand.

Dominik was never scared. He loved the mountains very much, but he had lost all his humbleness. This place does not forgive such folly. He fell 500 meters and was probably dead even before his body hit the ground. It took them three more hours to find him. By that time he was already half buried under fresh white snow. They couldn’t save him. It happened in one of those gorgeous, scary places and I never saw him again. I burned my white dress that day.

But that was more than 6 years ago…and I’m still here, taking care of pretty alpinists who come and go, but never stay. Fucking them is convenient. Sometimes, the sensation left by their warm skin pressed against mine lingers longer than I’d deem comfortable and safe, but no one broke my heart again. Mom keeps telling me that my decision to never marry after what happened is breaking hers. She prays for me every Sunday, but she never understood. My father is like a domesticated chamois. A former mountaineer, tamed by a local beauty. Now he spends more time chopping wood and fixing old pipes. He says his knees hurt, but I know he’s happy down here with her. I like men who are just as wild as the wolves running over these hills, but to actually love them is a slow and painful suicide. I barely recovered from the first one. The next would also be the last.

My dad has been a caretaker of Villa Eulalia for as long as I remember, and even before. I grew up here, surrounded by wild nature and the people who tried to monetize it. Later, my parents bought the building and Eulalia became our family business. It’s much more than that, though. It’s home. Surrounded by new, modern and luxurious hotels owned by townspeople who don’t know this place at all, we’re old residents who offer shelter to those searching for peace here.

There are generally two kinds of people who come to Zakopane: vacationers and explorers. We don’t offer nice views, jacuzzis and sparkling wine. We will – however – make you breakfast at 5 am.. Whether you want to explore the hiking trails that belong to all or hidden places in your mind that are your own, we are your people. We are the same.

I couldn’t imagine my life to be any different. I had been climbing these hills since I’d learned to walk. I went to Krakow to get my master’s degree in tourism management, I travelled a bit, made some new friends and even considered some other life options for a while, but I came back eventually. I missed the fresh air and the soapy smell of mountain grass. I needed to be here.

I was also needed here. With my parents getting older and my younger sister having a family of her own in her cozy city home, I became a maid, a receptionist, a cook, a webmaster and an occasional mountain guide. My parents don’t speak English. Well, not much, anyway. They know a few phrases, so they can greet our visitors and ask them about their day, secretly praying that they wouldn’t really want to answer those questions. Most of them don’t…unless they’re young and handsome. Those talk to me, though.

We didn’t have any foreign visitors at first, but later they slowly started coming. It was my sister’s job to take care of them at first, with me being away most of the time back then. But later, with three young kids, she couldn’t – and no longer wanted to – keep doing that any longer. So I came back and took over.

In August, the holiday season is in full swing. I didn’t have a day off since early July and really needed to get out and clear my mind a bit. I can’t stay in town all summer, not when the paradise is literally just a few steps away. This morning seemed like a perfect opportunity. There were no planned checkouts for today, I already managed to get all the rooms for all the new expected guests cleaned and ready the day before and most of them were locals, with one Slovak family arriving later in the afternoon. Dad should be able to take care of that.

While I was sipping my morning coffee, I checked the mailbox one last time just to be sure everything would be taken care of while I was away, only to discover there were two new last minute reservations. Kováčová…some Slovak lady with two more people who wouldn’t arrive until later in the afternoon, room 8. That one’s also ready. I vacuum-cleaned it two days ago. So, that should be OK. Aaand, the attic room for…some Kiszka. Perfect. I took one last sip, grabbed my backpack and was ready to go.

Agnieszka wasn’t in a hurry, knowing too well that her muscles would hurt like hell the next day if she didn’t take it easy. She was fit enough to set a much faster pace, but this was not a workout. Not today. In mid august, the former sheep pastures in Hala Gasienicowa were in full bloom and covered in violet. It was also a rather steep route that led there so even though she reached the place at half past nine, she could already feel a familiar burning sensation in her calves.

This was a perfect place for late breakfast. Yesterday’s wind was gone and once she got past the tree line, the sun was already high up in the sky, warming her skin enough to let her shed all the unnecessary layers of clothing. “Bathing in the breeze” was her favourite pastime. There was no better way to describe it. It was also still early enough to be able to enjoy the calmness of this place, which would be buzzing with life only an hour or so later as more people arrived.

It was already past noon when she reached the borderline ridge at a beautiful spot called “Lily Saddle” that separated High and Western Tatras – her final destination for the day. Most people aim for peaks, but she always loved mountain saddles and ridge routes. Reaching them wasn’t easy. You always had to overcome steep, rocky and often exposed tracks to get there. By the time you reached the saddle, you were high on endorphins and adrenaline, your whole body overheated from exertion, only to be greeted by icy wind that kept rumbling up there even during the hottest days of the year, sometimes tossing you from side to side like a rag doll. It was like falling in love…

She usually felt at peace here, even when she had to literally wrestle with the element. Not today. Today, she felt agitated. It started further down the road and intensified exponentially as she reached the saddle. She contemplated going further west along the ridge to calm her nerves a bit, when her telephone rang. It took her a while to find it in her bag, but the caller seemed super determined.

“Dad?”

“Neszka, where are you? An American just arrived… Apparently, he’s got a reservation. I need to house him.”

That must have been a mistake, she went through the reservations. Someone probably arrived at the wrong hotel. There were several of them called Villa Something Something in Zakopane…

“Daddy, that’s impossible. I double checked. We’re expecting a small German group on Saturday, but otherwise no foreign guests.”

“I’m not making this up. He’s here in front of me and I see him in our reservation system as well.”

“Name?”

“Joshua Kiszka.”

Fuck… That was probably why she felt so uneasy? Never underestimate your gut. Her subconsciousness knew she fucked up.

“Ok, get him on the phone.” She took a deep breath, expecting an outpouring of anger, the person on the other side berating her and demanding an explanation. Some people had the weirdest reasons for complaints and refund reasons, and this situation clearly was her fault.

Instead, the voice belonging to a young man sounded amused. He, too, tried to explain the situation he found himself in, even though there was no need for him to explain anything. With the wind gushing and roaring around and the service being shitty up here, she couldn’t even hear him properly, so – after what she hoped was the most heartfelt apology she could deliver – she tried to make it as brief as possible.

“Ok, listen, my father – that’s the man you tried to talk to – my dad will show you your room. Just…. make yourself comfortable, there’s a large garden behind the villa and free beverages in the fridge outside your room… You will find it with ease… And I’ll be there in three hours at the very worst. Then I’ll show you around and will tell you everything you need to know.”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t slept much at night so I’ll probably just take a nap. All I need is a bed to lie on…if it’s ready,” he chuckled again.

Fuck. With that, she took a few big gulps of water and started descending.

It was past four in the afternoon when she got back home, hot and sweating and out of breath, but the shower could wait. She stopped briefly by the kitchen to ask dad how well it went and then headed straight to the attic floor, taking stairs two at a time. She knocked on the door and…nothing. She had to repeat it two more times – at least it gave her the opportunity to catch her breath – before the door finally creaked open.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I kept you waiti…oh!”

The man who answered the door was unlike anything she had expected. He was approximately the same height as her, slender, not overly muscular but still well toned. She could tell quite easily, because he was in fact naked from the waist up, rubbing his sleepy eyes and smiling at her while still trying to shake off the post nap confusion.

She didn’t realize that she was staring until he spoke, and took a few steps back inside the room, basically letting her in. “Uh, oh, sorry, it’s a bit hot here under the roof, he chuckled again as he picked up a basic t-shirt from the floor and pulled it over his head. “And you must be the charming lady I spoke to on the phone earlier?”

He looked like someone straight from DaVinci’s painting…if DaVinci lived in some arty, boho community instead of a 15th century Milan: fine features, rosy cheeks, kind yet mysterious eyes, plump lips and soft curls with trimmed sides and a messy braid that ended between his shoulder blades, decorated with a tiny shell.

“Uuuh, yeah, yes, that’s me. I tried to get here as soon as possible, but it took longer than I expected and…”

“Please, don’t apologize. I see you went hiking. So cool! It must have been absolutely fabulous up there today. You must certainly give me some tips. Where to go, what to see... I heard how beautiful it is here. Saw some pictures too. But I’ve never been here, so I absolutely don’t know what to expect. I will need to buy some clothes and other essentials as well, this was a last minute decision. I helped myself to a beverage from that fridge, by the way. I hope it’s ok. I had peach iced tea…,” he kept on rambling as he tried to clean up the room that already looked lived-in even though he had been here for only a few hours.

She watched him, completely bewildered. But she already liked him. He was cute and wild and kind of sexy. Strange, but with a pretty face. Two weeks. He’s alone…yeah, and you’re sweaty, red faced and you stink, you idiot!

“…me around?”

She realized he was still talking, when put her back to earth. “What?” That chuckle again…

“You told me you’d show me around. I got my key, I know where the drinks are, I saw the garden, it’s fanTAStic, by the way…so, what else do I need to know?” he asked cheekily.

That put her back into her professional mode. She explained that she wouldn’t clean the room more that once a week unless he would specifically ask her to do so, privacy being held in high regard here…; she showed him where to find extra toilet paper and fresh towels, where to throw the dirty ones; she showed him the kitchen he had to share with several other rooms, told him about free tea and coffee and that he shouldn’t bother with washing the dishes, he should just leave them in the sink and she would take care of it. She also told him where to buy everything he needed and she had to bite her lip a few times when he absentmindedly touched her arm.

Later in the early evening, Agnieszka still couldn't shake off that unfamiliar restlessness she felt back up on the ridge. It lay heavy on her chest, compressing her lungs. She tried to read, but it was no use. Reading was a distraction fit for dark and rainy evenings, but the cloudless sky didn’t want the night to take over just yet. Even here, among steep hills where the sun sets early, the skies were still ultramarine blue and… vast.

The warm light on her bedside table wasn’t enough to disperse the magic of the blue hour. Instead of trying to reread the same paragraph for the third time, she put the book down and opened the window to let the cool and fragrant air in.

As soon as the scent of pines and freshly mown grass hit her nostrils, she also heard a soft hum coming from below. Looking down, she saw him sitting on a wooden garden table, with his feet on the bench. He had his back to her, sipping beer, his fingers rapping on the withered wood. He was also the source of that slow melody.

It reminded her of Dominik. He used to sit by the fireside, farther back in the garden. His guitar was often out of tune and people made fun of him, but he always just smiled and continued to play. It often baffled her that he didn’t mind, because it sounded awful, and he must have heard it. The man could sing!

Apparently, so could Joshua, but it was something completely different. Dominik’s voice was low and thick, and when he hummed her favourite songs, such as Sad Eyes, it often made her drowsy. Joshua sounded like the girls singing old local folk songs about dying from a broken heart. She had never heard anything like that. He sang silently, as he obviously did not want to disturb the calmness of dusk, as well as other guests behind their own open windows. Yet it made her heart flutter in her throat.

She watched, entranced, how his breath animated the muscles of his lean back, covered only in sheer white cotton in spite of the air getting increasingly chillier with every passing minute.

Agnieszka tried to lean out the window a bit more, which made the shutter crash against the wall, causing him to look her way. She panicked and ducked under the sill. Realizing how childish it must have appeared, she slowly straightened and saw him still looking in her direction, smiling. He gestured to the second can of beer standing on the table next to him and silently motioned her to join him.

She took a deep breath and nodded. She grabbed her cardigan, closed the window and went out to join him, oblivious to the fact that the way down the stairs and out the back entrance which led straight to the garden was in reality a steep, rocky road to ruin.

Next chapter Olalla masterlist

@writingcold @its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @edgingthedarkness @thewritingbeforesunrise @myownparadise96 @lvnterninthenight

...and because you reblogged the teaser, this might interest you, too: @klarxtr @jakesleftankle @itsafullmoon @woyayaofdreams @pasionatematty @zoelle16 @tripthelightfantastix

This is just for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake kiszka #jake gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #Spotify

55 notes · View notes

jadeazora · 4 months ago

Text

I feel like some of us have that region that isn't "for them", and Galar was DEFINITELY that region to me:

Like, the story was pretty boring thanks to the hyperfixation it had on Gyms. And then when something interesting would happen, Leon would show up and redirect you. I get what they're going for, he's their unbeatable Champion and it's nice he's getting involved with the affairs of his region, but it came at a downside. (I feel like Alder was better since the player still felt relevant to the plot, even tho he was pretty active and involved too.)

Most of the major characters just weren't utilized well, fell flat, or annoyed me (tho there's some I liked, like Sonia, Piers, and Raihan) Like, we FINALLY have a jerk rival after two decades, and he's forced out of the plot midway in (due to his own decisions, but still wanted more with Bede), and I think Marnie only really got as popular as she did because of her design, because she's kinda forgettable personality-wise. 🤷‍♀️ There's way more going on with Piers imo. Hop was ok, but I think they could have done a bit more with him. (Maybe if they had explored him growing up in Leon's shadow more?)

I feel like this is gonna be an unpopular opinion, but I just never vibed with Leon and the way the games and anime shilled him just always rubbed me the wrong way. He's not the worst Champion, that still goes to Diantha, but between how the games just use him to redirect the player and the character-shilling, I just kinda found him annoying. 😔 (I tend to not really like showboaty characters most of the time, tho there's a few exceptions like Alastor. I feel like if they got the charisma to back it up, I might end up liking them, but sometimes, it just comes off as kinda lame instead. Imo, the charisma is there more for anime Leon over the games version.)

The idea of minor League Gyms was neat, but we never really got anything with them until Klara and Avery. Like, we can assume Allister/Melony and Bea/Gordie were minor League depending on what game you play, but in the games they're not Gym Leaders, they don't even appear.

I also hated them forcing me into a Gym Uniform in-game for those battles/League fights. (Let me keep my drip, dammit.)

The villain plots ticked me off. I've already gone after Rose a couple times in this blog, but if the energy crisis had been a few decades away, I could understand the rush and frustration with Leon, but 1000yrs was way too big a window. The Royal Brothers are meant to be annoying and ridiculous, and they definitely hit their mark there.

The box Legendaries were the most boring duo for me (They're not Pokemon I dislike, they're fine. The other box Legends were just cooler. I like the more eldritch Mons tho, so I really loved Eternatus.)

The base game's wild area felt really limited and small once you find your way around. The Crown Tundra's was way better, not to mention Paldea's.

I didn't really care for the Dynamax gimmick. (I've always been a Mega Evolution guy tho. Gigantamax could be cool, I think I just like the alternate forms.)

I will say that the DLC improved quite a bit imo. I liked characters like Peony and Mustard, the exploration was an improvement and the quests were fun, and it was cool seeing the interactions between Gym Leaders and such in the Galarian Star tournament. They also get bonus points for bringing back two of my favorite Pokemon, Volcarona and Magnezone. (I also feel like the Galar-original Mons were pretty good overall, and same with the clothing options.)

But like, by the time we got out of Gen8 and into Paldea for everything (well, the games and the anime anyway, wasn't the biggest JN fan either, I still have to catch up on Adventures), I was so happy. Technical issues with SV aside, I've enjoyed Gen9 a lot more overall.

#pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #galar #champion leon

41 notes · View notes

somekindofsentience · 5 months ago

Text

mari could have OCD - an analysis

Mari as a character is left mostly up to speculation by the player - which is partially a fault on the creators' part, but is also somewhat deliberate to allow for consumer projection and exploration. Because she's left so open, I want to explore a personal headcanon of mine - that Mari has OCD.

Disclaimer: This is my opinion! I may be wrong! I am a human and I am wrong sometimes! I do have OCD, but my experiences and how I write about them are not necessarily indicative of all people with OCD.

I want to pre-establish here that doing things that I market as "compulsive" is not necessarily compulsive behaviour, and it does not necessarily mean you experience OCD. The reality is, we can't know if Mari has OCD, or any disorder, because we don't get any insight into her mind. Cognition and thinking patterns are vital to a diagnosis of OCD. If you like to play the piano over and over again, you might just enjoy playing the piano. As with anything, if it's causing you distress, please seek a therapist!

Mari has three prevalent character traits that could potentially link to anxiety of some form - her perfectionism, tying into her compulsive piano playing; and her responsibility as the "mother" of the group. From these three traits, I think I can somewhat develop an argument for Mari having OCD.

Mari is a perfectionist; this is explicitly stated multiple times in the game. It's practically the only "negative" trait (or, rather, trait that comes with a downside) given to her, and despite that, it's still painted in a glorified light. It's somewhat implied that the recital day's events occurred due to this perfectionism, but we will discuss the piano playing later.

Now, OCD is not perfectionism, and mixing them up leads to horrific misinformation about the illness. But OCD can lead to perfectionism in specific instances. Let's say Mari believes if she doesn't play the recital perfectly, she'll be a failure and a terrible person. While it seems like an extreme jump between the two ideas, and it might feel so irrational to her, something in the back of her head just won't let that idea go. To feel more confident in her playing, she keeps playing it, over and over and over again. Every time she gains some confidence, she loses it just as fast, trapping her in a little cycle at that piano. In this case, we can see how an irrational intrusive thought could lead to perfectionistic tendencies in a person - and can see a rational cognitive explanation for Mari's behaviour.

I also want to talk about an aspect of OCD that isn't commonly spoken about - taking responsibility to an extreme extent. When we discuss mental disorders, we tend to talk about where they begin and how to treat them; but with disorders like OCD, it's actually important to consider how they continue. Everyone experiences intrusive thoughts, but there are several factors that increase the likelihood of believing them. One of them is the idea that one must take responsibility for their own intrusive thoughts - "if something bad is going to happen, I have to be the one to fix it".

Some people are naturally very self-reliant, and this can be for a number of reasons. I see this in Mari in the responsibility she holds over her brother and her friend group - she's the pinnacle of their rationality, keeping an eye on them (even in Headspace, which mimics some reality), and she's the one to save Sunny from drowning during the day of the Phobias' creation. Mari is fifteen, but holds so much pressure to monitor her friends, so it's not impossible to believe that worrying over her brother would cause intrusive thoughts. OCD is sometimes exacerbated after traumatic experiences, and having to save your younger brother from drowning is a lot to go through. Maybe she became more overprotective later on - not that I really have any evidence for that, since we don't have the most lucid perspective on Mari throughout the game.

I don't really have any way to reasonably conclude this, but I will say, I can recognise that a lot of this is projection. I have OCD. It's very difficult to see representation of complex OCD in media, since it's so hard to convey what intrusive thoughts and unobvious compulsions feel like, so it's nice to be able to give it to a character. But I feel like it has some basis in the real game, and could genuinely provide an interesting headcanon for people to use.

I dunno. You tell me.

Oh right, I forgot to mention. I wrote about this headcanon here. I'm pretty proud of the fic, so, I'd appreciate people checking it out if they're interested.

#omori #omori mari #omori game #omori analysis #omori fanfic #sentience's stuff #obsessive compulsive disorder #omori spoilers

28 notes · View notes

slvtwh0re · 1 year ago

Text

We Should Get Into Arguments More Often

smut; dean winchester, spn

An argument between you and Dean ends up sending you into a bad mood, and in Dean’s attempts to cheer you up, the two of you explore some new emotions.

Warnings: arguing, friends to lovers trope, fingering, p in v

You were used to Dean's angry outbursts and frustrated attitudes after things didn't go his way. You'd been hunting with the Winchester brothers long enough to get accustomed to their behaviors. Two years of Sam's questioning that always started debates, and Dean's comments that would always send someone into a bad mood. And of course, they were quite familiar with the way you'd be grouchy all morning without coffee, how you'd throw a fit if you couldn't find your favorite shirt, or how mad you'd get whenever Dean stole the remote or some other trivial thing.

Two years of learning how to deal with their sometimes childish behavior - yours included - but two years of being with your best friends. Your father had been friends with theirs, and long ago, John Winchester had recruited you on a hunt. After that, it felt natural for you to simply stay with Sam and Dean. Being raised the same as them - by a man clouded with that sense of revenge, raising you to be a hunter - you fit in perfectly.

Today, however, you weren't in the mood for Dean's shit, and he wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon. He was upset over the job. The fact that he'd been pinned and you jumped in to help, earning you a nasty bruise along your hip from the demon. You were fine, but Dean hated the idea of you getting hurt because he couldn't hold his own. So, he shared his feelings on the matter, the only way he knew how.

"Seriously, what the hell were you thinking?" Dean ranted as he sped down the road, back towards the motel. "I had everything under control-"

"Obviously not," you cut him off. "Look, we saved your ass and got the demon. Drop it."

Dean had a continuing issue with you having to help him out - maybe it was an ego thing, but every time you saved him from getting ganked, he always had something to say about it. Honestly, it seemed like he had comments to make over everything you did.

Sam's eyes flicked between you two. Dean looked in the rearview mirror, eyeing you daringly, like he was pushing you to say something else. You looked at him with warning, letting him know that today wasn't a good day for his fit. You had woken up with a pounding headache, the bruise on your side hurt, and his complaining didn't help.

"I didn't need you to save my ass, by the way," he muttered, pulling into the parking lot. "I had it under control."

Sam shook his head, asking, "If I go and pick up something for dinner, can I trust you two to stay here and not rip each other's heads off?"

"If your brother can manage to keep his mouth shut," you murmured as you walk past Sam.

"Oh, you love hearing me talk!" Dean called, following after you. His mood was already wearing off - he was excited over the idea of a bed and a warm meal - but you were downright irritated now.

You kicked your boots off at the door of the motel room, refusing to look at Dean. He was still attempting to make you laugh, his informal way of apologizing for upsetting you.

"Y/N," he said, trailing you around the room.

"Can we have one job without you snapping at me over something?" you asked, turning to face him.

His face softened for a moment, almost shocked by your inquiry. In the years you'd known them and had been hunting alongside them, he'd never seen you truly upset with him. Suddenly, he felt somewhat remorseful over his behavior.

"You know I'm just messing around..." he attempted to reply. His arm snaked around your waist, and you shrugged away.

"Well, stop it." You began walking towards the bathroom with plans to take a shower and hopefully get over your frustration, but you were stopped when Dean reached out and grabbed your arm.

"I was an asshole, okay?" he said. "I am a lot of the time. And I'm sorry."

"And...?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "And what?"

"There's more."

You could tell by the way he hesitated at the end of his sentence, like he wanted to add something else. The way he swallowed roughly afterwards and cleared his throat, as if he was choking down his words.

"And..." He glanced down, shaking his head like he was unsure of himself. "...I do it because I care about you. Because I don't want you to get hurt."

Hearing a confession like that from Dean was strange in itself, but seeing him look so nervous was even weirder. Something about him - the look on his face that begged you to show him anything in response - lit a fire inside of you. The need in his eyes only encouraged you. In a quick move, you grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss. Soft and caring, but filled with enough passion to spell out years of unspoken feelings and confessions.

With your signal of consent, proof that you wanted it as much as Dean, he was suddenly filled with the same sense of urgency as you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to him. His free hand went up to caress the back of your head, adding just the right amount of intimacy to the rough atmosphere circling around you both.

Dean walked the both of you backwards until your legs hit the edge of one of the beds. He broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head. For just a moment, his eyes searched your body, like he was trying to remember what every inch of you looked like.

"Fuck," he breathed, leaning down to press a light kiss over your collarbone. "You don't know how long I've wanted this..."

"Then why didn't you do anything?" you asked between gasps, feeling his fingers dance closer and closer to your waistline.

"And risk having you hate me forever?" he chuckled. The comment was filled with a hint of seriousness, though, and you realized he truly was worried about this changing things between you two.

It didn't change anything for you, though. The love and admiration you felt for Dean had been heightened from simply the last ten minutes. "Does it look like that's what's happening?" you questioned quietly.

"I suppose not," he agreed, brushing his hand over the bruise on your waist. "Does it hurt?"

"I've had worse." Glancing down at the purple and blue patches scattering your hip, you shook your head. "It doesn't hurt."

"You saved my ass today," he finally admitted. "But if I knew arguing with you would end me up here, I would've done it a long time ago."

"Well, you have me now."

"And I'm gonna enjoy every second of it." He finally slipped his hand into your pants after unbuttoning them. His fingers teasingly brushed against you, touching you ever so lightly.

You gasped and arched your body into his touch. For someone who seemed so rough, Dean was so gentle with you as he explored the space between your thighs. Finally, he helped you slip out of your pants. They ended up somewhere on the floor, along with Dean's flannel and jeans. You didn't have time to focus on his ungodly beauty - how amazing he looked, standing there in just black boxers - because he slipped his fingers inside of you without warning.

A soft moan escaped you and you wrapped your arm around Dean, holding on to him for support as he worked his fingers inside of you. He held you against him, with your back pressed into his chest and his hand snaked around your waist. If he rested his chin on your shoulder, he had the perfect view - you with your head tossed back, mouth opened to release breathy moans and sharp gasps.

All of the anger from earlier washed away as he brought you closer and closer to coming undone. He whispered praises into your ear, telling you how good you were for him and how you were everything he dreamed you'd be. And suddenly, the knot in your stomach unraveled and you tensed, moaning and throwing your head back onto Dean's shoulder. He took the opportunity to shove two fingers into your open mouth, giving you yet another reminder that he had you at his mercy.

You finally came down from your high and you turned around to face him. He smiled at you reassuringly, and everything was okay. But his eyes still held that look of uncertainty, waiting for you to break the silence.

Reaching up, you held one side of his face and asked, "Do you want to fuck me, Dean?"

"Yes," he whispered. "God, yes. But... Sammy's gonna be back any second, so..."

You'd completely forgotten about Sam, who was still on his quest to find dinner. Glancing down at Dean's boxers - and his very attractive waist - you said, "That can't be comfortable."

"Oh, it's not," he chuckled. "So, I'm gonna take a cold shower, and..."

"And?" you pressed when he paused.

"And later... I'm gonna take you somewhere else and fuck you in the backseat of my car."

There was no time for you to come up with a witty response, because Dean was already grabbing his clothes off the floor and rushing to shower. You found your shirt and pants and slipped back into them quickly.

Not once did you ever expect what happened tonight. Sure, you'd thought about it - who wouldn't think about it when you have a man like Dean around? Now that it had happened, though, you weren't going to let it go. The sense of intimacy and passion was so much more than mindless sex - it was love, all those things you'd wanted to admit over the years. How Dean had always wanted you, how he'd craved you like a drug he'd never had. The discreet glances you'd send him every time he was fresh out of the shower or kicked back in his seat driving to the next case. All of that had been shoved into twenty minutes of gentle pleasure, and you knew things would never be the same - in the best way possible.

The motel door swung open and Sam stepped in, holding a couple of bags in his hands. "Hey, Y/N, I got dinner. Where's Dean?"

"Shower," you answered, as if nothing had happened just moments prior. "What'd you get me?"

Somehow, Sam was blind to your messy hair and the smell of sex lingering around the room as he walked forward and handed you your food. "Are you and Dean still arguing?"

Smiling softly, you shook your head. "I think we got it figured out."

Dean was itching for your touch. The whole night, all the way from dinner time until Sam fell asleep, he'd been thinking about how nice it would be to finally have you. To experience you in every way he could. His cold shower hadn't helped - if anything, it had only given him more time to run over scenarios in his mind.

So, when Sam finally passed out after a few beers, Dean was quick to sneak up behind you and plant a warm kiss on your cheek. You smiled softly and turned your head to look at him.

"Come on..." he whispered.

"Where are we going?" you asked, taking his hand and following him nonetheless.

"I made you a promise earlier,” he said, referring to his comment about you in the back of his Impala.

"Oh, that was a promise?"

You laughed at your own teasing, but Dean had a sense of hunger for you that he couldn't rid. You'd been the lucky one earlier - he'd made you cum with his incredibly skilled fingers and encouraging words - and he'd been stuck watching, unable to do anything about his own needs. It wasn't a problem, because of course you came first and he was more worried about ensuring you were happy, but he was also still focused on the idea of how it would feel to finally be inside of you.

"Come on," he repeated, opening the passenger door on the Impala and waiting for you to climb in. "Don't make me wait any longer, princess..."

His voice held need, almost pleading with you to finish what you'd both started earlier. You slid into the car, watching him rush around to the driver's side.

Neither of you had any clue where you were going, but you also didn't care. Dean was busy tracing his hand up your inner thighs, still attempting to memorize every detail. But as soon as he found the first empty parking lot - one belonging to a corner store that wouldn't be open until early morning - he pulled in and parked the car.

You knew what Dean wanted and you were quick to give it to him. Skillfully, you climbed into the backseat and laid across the leather. He was seconds behind you, finding a comfortable spot and settling over top of you. Keeping himself propped up with his arms, he leaned down to connect your lips and grind his hips against yours.

"I'm guessing the cold shower didn't help?" you said as his mouth covered your skin with hot kisses and gentle bites. The amount of fervor in each of his moves was enough to prove his urgency, and you could only imagine how hard it was for him to keep his mind straight for the two hours you both had waited. After all, he hadn't exactly been satisfied earlier.

"Not quite," he mumbled into your collarbone. "I think I'm too far gone now, sweetheart."

Grinning, you snuck your hand down to palm him through his sweatpants. You flipped the two of you around so that you were on top of him, giving you the slightest bit of control. It wasn't hard to get him back to the state he was in earlier, back when he'd been pinning you against his body and working his hands between your thighs. That state of complete and utter lust.

"Y/N, you're gonna kill me," he gasped, lifting his hips when your hand brushed against just the right spot.

"Patience," you said softly, slowly pulling his pants further down his waist. You could feel every dip and curve of each muscle, tensing under your touch. "You took care of me earlier... Let me return the favor."

Dean had no complaints. He laid back and let you do as you pleased. Within moments, both of your clothes were tossed on the floor and you were circling your hips over Dean's waist. He could feel how wet you were, pressed against his skin. You rolled a condom over him, keeping your touches light and making him crave you even more. His hands gripped your hips and he refrained from lifting you up and putting an end to your teasing.

Finally, you raised your hips and guided him to your entrance, slowly sitting down and feeling him fill you up. It was so much better than earlier - although his fingers were quite incredible, too. You splayed your hands across his chest, whining as he shoved his waist up into yours. He used his hands to guide you, bouncing and turning your hips however he pleased, being careful of your bruise. Occasionally, he'd lean up and pepper kisses across your naked chest, leaving marks in his wake.

"You're mine," he told you, gripping your chin gently and looking you in the eye.

"I'm yours," you repeatedly breathily.

"Come on, baby." His hands squeezed you tighter - still minding your injury - and he thrusted into you rougher, chasing his release. "I've got you..."

Something about the promise and reassurance in his words made you unravel. The feeling of you tensing around him made his hips falter and he groaned lowly, coming undone alongside you. You fell forward, laying on his chest and breathing heavily. His fingers traced patterns on your back and he held you close, feeling how you relaxed under his touch.

"Did you mean it?" he asked after a moment. Then, to elaborate, he said, "Are you mine?"

You raised your head and nodded. "Yeah, I meant it..."

For a moment, you wondered if that's what he wanted. Then, he smiled and replied, "Good, because there's a lot more things I'd like to try with you..."

You laughed, pulling yourself off of Dean's lap and back into the front seat. "I'm excited to see... But for now, we should head back to the motel, before Sam wakes up and wonders where we are."

"Yeah, you're right." Dean resumed his spot in the driver's seat and pulled out of the empty parking lot, keeping his eyes on you all the while.

It was strange to think that hours earlier, the thought of you and Dean making love in the back of his car seemed like something you'd only ever experience in a dream. Your argument seemed like a distant memory, something you and Dean could laugh over now. Because now, you were happy. No matter how you and Dean ended up in this situation, the end worked out in your favor.

Dean glanced over at you, smiling at the contented look on your face. "We should get into arguments more often, huh?"

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester smut #smut #spn smut #dean winchester x reader #supernatural smut #dean x y/n #dean x reader #spn fanfic

384 notes · View notes

very-straight-blog · 5 months ago

Note

out of all things that infuriate me in hotd, their treatment of helaegon is the most. royal incest marriage is the rarest thing in fiction. usually incest pairings are all about secrets, sneaking, hiding, stealing kisses, shame, guilt, etc. which is alright and juicy, but predictable. here they had a rare opportunuty to show the different side of it. Targs flaunt their special marriage customs, it's regal, prestigious, divine. Marrying a sister basically cements crown prince's position as next king. king and queen one body and soul. they had the chance to explore it. and failed miserably without even trying. i ship incest pairings as long as i remember and i watched a lot of stuff, but royal marriage i've seen in exactly two (2) shows and both failed spectacularly. king tut 2015 and some korean pseudohistorical soap opera. both shows were based on history and irl those kings loved their sister-wives passionately, and in both shows it was the opposite - kings were in love with some invented mary sue concubines, while queens were demoted to unwanted jealous bitter harpies. i don't get it, why even start working on the project if they hate source material? anyway, i expected a lot from dragon incest show, after all, Cersei and Jaime were not bad and sometimes even romantic. and hotd literally gave us nothing! i'd forgive hotd for being bad if they at least gave us good shippy scenes that make heart flutter but it's really nothing.

Unfortunately, I don't quite agree with you, because it seems to me that you confuse incest couples based on love and those based on duty. If we're talking about the Targaryens - yes, it was customary for them to create marriage unions between relatives, but this doesn't mean that all these unions were happy and that all Targaryens liked this tradition. I'll talk about the series so as not to confuse the sources, although Aegon and Helaena were married against their will in both variations of the story, in the book they were children, in the series - teenagers. We literally see Aegon, who doesn't want to marry his sister. Their marriage is a tragedy and a prison for both of them, this couple just doesn't have the feelings you're talking about. They're siblings trapped in this situation. Yes, I ship them - platonically, as people who don't have romantic or sexual feelings for each other, but who are still brother and sister, as well as parents of three children. They have little in common, but they're trying to find at least something for the sake of their sons and daughter. In my opinion, this is the beauty and tragedy of this couple. I also wrote about it here. But I agree that the screenwriters really didn't give us anything, even if we're talking about platonic feelings. I'd like to see the dynamics of their relationship with each other and with their children, it could be very interesting. Let's hope for something in the next episodes.

#ask #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #helaegon #house of the dragon #hotd #team green #pro team green #opinion

31 notes · View notes

the-darkestminds · 6 months ago

Text

Autumn's Shadow: Chapter 6

Azriel x Eris (Azriel POV)

Summary: A covert meeting between Azriel and Eris to exchange valuable intel leaves Azriel reeling—and questioning everything he has ever felt for the Heir of Autumn. Azriel finds himself inexorably drawn to Eris, unable to resist his captivating allure. With the threat of Koschei and Beron looming ever closer, can their forbidden love endure in the face of such danger?

a/n: Pondered over this chapter for a while. I surprised myself by getting all of the editing done over the holiday weekend. Hope you enjoy! As always, this is not canon compliant. (nsfw, 18+)

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list!

Read on AO3!

Full Chapter List

Chapter 6:

Azriel and Eris met up more than two dozen times over the following five weeks. They were limited in where they could go, due to Eris’s need for secrecy, but they made the best of it.

They explored as much of the Night Court as time would allow. They walked through the forests on the outskirts of Velaris, visited some of Azriel’s favorite spots along the rolling hills and mountains that shielded the city. They flew over the high peaks of Illyria, and Azriel had laughed at how tightly Eris had gripped him as he’d dove low over the lakes and rivers scattered across the Night Court territory.

They spent little time discussing the threats growing beyond their borders, or those brewing within. As they explored the land they talked of Velaris, of the Autumn Court lands, of music and books and places they hoped to visit one day. Eris spoke fondly of the Lady of Autumn, and Azriel shared some stories of his own mother, how he visited her as often as he could.

They also spoke of darker things. Eris told Azriel of his childhood and what it had been like to grow up with six brothers who were always fighting and scheming and at each other's throats. He spoke of Lucien, of the guilt he carried at how he’d been mistreated and abused—how much he hoped to repair what was broken between them. The stark honesty had Azriel sharing some of his own horrors as well. He told Eris what it had been like to grow up as his father’s bastard son. How his step brothers had tormented him for it. He told Eris the story of how he had gotten his scars and how the memories still chased him from sleep. Eris had paused at that story—had brushed a soft kiss to Azriel’s hand and squeezed it gently before letting him continue. They quickly got to know each other and soon Eris no longer looked at Azriel with distrust in his eyes. It warmed something deep inside Azriel’s chest.

Though Eris seemed content to be spending time with him, Azriel could still see the shadows that sometimes clouded his eyes. The real Eris was…volatile. His moods gave Azriel whiplash. Some days he was angry and cold. On other days he was playful and snarky and, Cauldron spare him, funny. He found Eris Vanserra to be funny. Azriel didn’t want to admit that he was slowly starting to think of Eris as one of his closest friends. He wanted Eris to feel the same. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted more than that. They didn’t have the centuries of history he had with Rhys and Cassian, but their friendship was something more, though nothing of that nature had happened since they’d met in the Steppes. Azriel didn’t know if it would again. He wasn’t sure if he should be the one to broach the subject.

The worst days were when he looked into Eris’s eyes and saw unbearable pain and despair. He didn’t know what to do when he saw that haunted look on Eris’s face, but his gut told him to leave it alone, for now. It unnerved Azriel, how much he cared. He found himself thinking about it frequently. Found himself dreaming about how he might destroy Beron for every physical and emotional wound he’d ever dealt Eris.

Eris avoided speaking about his relationship with his father, and Azriel didn’t push. He knew there was little chance of Eris truly opening up to him about it, no matter how much Azriel wished he would. But he wanted…what? To be the one person Eris confided in? The thought was laughable, though deep down he knew it was true. All he could do was be there for him, and on the hard days Eris seemed to appreciate his quiet presence.

Thankfully, today was not one of those days, as Eris seemed to be in relatively high spirits, all things considered. He walked in front of Azriel as they picked their way through the forest along the border of Spring and the human lands. Though Tamlin hadn’t been seen in weeks, and the land seemed unnaturally still, Eris had glamoured them from view as a precaution against prying eyes and ears as they chatted quietly.

“So you do this every year? And somehow you lost to Cassian, of all people?” Azriel had told him of their Solstice tradition, much to Eris’s amusement. The male seemed utterly bemused that Azriel and his brothers were capable of engaging in something as trivial as a snowball fight.

“It was an off year for me,” Azriel admitted with a smirk, recalling the gigantic ball of slush and ice he had sent flying directly into Rhys’s face. He’d done it at Nesta’s sly request, and had promised to aim true. Though Nesta's relationship with Rhys had improved, and was mostly civil, he knew that under different circumstances neither would have chosen the other as family. Regardless, Rhys could always use a little humbling, and Azriel was happy to provide it.

“I’m trying to imagine attempting such a thing with any of my brothers. I’d probably end up with a knife in the back, or perhaps a rock to the face,” Eris said matter-of-factly. Azriel paused, unsure if the male was joking or not. Another thing they had in common: despicable brothers. Azriel quietly tucked the information away—added those brothers to his list of people he might one day repay for the abuse they’d inflicted upon Eris. “I’m impressed you manage to refrain from doing something similar to Cassian. Perhaps next year you’ll allow me to participate,” he said innocently. Azriel rolled his eyes with a sigh. He wondered if there was something more to the hostility between Eris and Cassian. He opened his mouth to ask him directly—

Something slammed into him from behind and he went sprawling face first into the hard ground. Claws pierced his leathers and he felt the skin on his left shoulder prick with blood. A wall of fire swept up above him and the weight on his back disappeared. Azriel jumped up, unsheathing Truth Teller from his back and whirled to face whatever had attacked him.

What he beheld made his throat go dry with fear. The creature was grotesque. Milky-white, scaled skin covered a somewhat fae-like body—a female body, he realized, as he took in its naked form. Her icy blue eyes were large and lidless as they considered Azriel and Eris with keen interest—or perhaps hunger. Where a nose should have been were two large, slitted nostrils that hissed as the thing sniffed the air and smiled, revealing black, toothless gums and a forked, blood-red tongue. Its hands ended in skin-shredding claws and its head was smooth and hairless.

Azriel and Eris circled it slowly, swords and daggers drawn. It—she—opened her mouth wider, seemingly to speak, and the strange hissing sound was no language Azriel had ever heard. He didn’t dare take his eyes off it to see if Eris thought the same.

Azriel blinked and it lunged for Eris, claws outstretched, aiming for his throat. Azriel’s shadows speared towards it as he brought Truth Teller up—but Eris winnowed out of the way, directly behind the creature, and stabbed his dagger through its back. The thing shrieked loudly and turned, claws swiping so close to Eris’s chest that the fabric of his shirt was shredded. The beast moved with such speed that Eris and Azriel were forced to work together, ducking and slashing until they were both dripping with sweat from the effort. Eris sent a whip of white-hot flame against its torso, just as Azriel’s shadows speared its exposed back from behind, and then Azriel stepped out of a shadow and sliced Truth Teller out in a wide arc. The creature’s head tumbled to the grassy earth, its body collapsing in a heap of white limbs. A thick, creamy substance leaked from the cuts on its skin and the now-stump of its neck.

Eris and Azriel were both panting from exertion as they looked at the thing that lay dead between them. Azriel had never seen anything like it. It was no creature of the Night Court, of that much he was sure. Eris was confident it had not spawned from Autumn either. He’d report this to Rhys, let him see into his mind, and maybe he’d be able to identify it. Perhaps it had escaped from the Middle?

“You know, you really are a terrible spymaster,” Eris mused as he studied the creature at his feet. Azriel scowled in annoyance, though the male had a point. He’d been sloppy lately, and he was lucky they’d both gotten away with only a few scratches. Still, he did not appreciate the rude assessment.

“Shut up, Eris,” Azriel snapped. He was not in the mood for his bratty attitude. He looked up at Eris to tell him just that and saw a spark of humor in those amber eyes. Azriel rolled his own eyes for what felt like the tenth time in an hour and gestured to the creature. “Can you burn it?” Eris tsked, as if offended by the question, and a second later all that remained of the beast was ash and smoking grass. He hadn’t even lifted a finger to do it. Azriel raised his brows and Eris smirked at him.

“If that impresses you, you should see what I can do with my tongue.” Azriel chuckled despite himself, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly. That Eris managed to turn every conversation into some kind of crude joke was a skill he’d clearly honed over the centuries. Despite the severity of the situation, Azriel was glad for the male’s infallible snark. It was one of the only things that could draw Azriel out of his head, and though he wouldn’t admit it, he was grateful for the distraction.

The males parted ways, Azriel promising to update Eris on whatever he might learn of the creature from Rhys. Regardless of what his High Lord told him, he knew he’d find an excuse to see Eris again very soon.

***

Azriel landed in the quiet glen near Velaris and waited for Eris to arrive. He’d spent the past week hunting through Prythian for any sign of more creatures like the one that had attacked him and Eris. He’d found nothing. Rhys had cringed when he’d seen the creature in Azriel’s mind, but suspected it was some long lost monster that had escaped from the Middle. Azriel was inclined to agree. He put thoughts of the beast out of his mind for now and focused on the present. His stomach fluttered in anticipation of the plan he intended to propose for the evening.

A minute passed, and there he was. Eris’s pale skin glowed with health once more. The wounds on his back had healed quickly, though the scars remained. His red hair was a silken drape over his shoulder and his amber eyes were bright as he grinned at Azriel. Azriel stifled his sigh of relief—no shadows to be found in his eyes today.

“I want to try something different tonight,” Azriel began. Eris raised a brow.

“I’m listening.” His eyes glinted with interest.

“Can you glamour yourself? Change your face to appear as someone else?” he asked.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” Eris replied warily.

“Do it. I want to show you the real Velaris tonight, not just the woods and mountains surrounding it.” Azriel held his breath and waited for the dismissal. It was a risk, after all. Perhaps one Eris would not deem worthy of his time, but Eris surprised him.

“Who shall I appear as?” Azriel blinked and he was no longer looking at Eris. Before him stood a female with brown hair and eyes and tanned skin. Azriel’s brows rose in surprise.

“Just alter yourself enough that no one will recognize I’m dining with the heir to the Autumn Court,” he said, amused at how convincing it looked. Another blink and Eris had changed the glamour. His hair was a light chestnut color instead of red and his amber eyes were a dark, murky brown. Even his scent was different.

“Your natural coloring is much nicer,” Azriel said, his voice low. The strange male before him blushed.

“You flatter me, Azriel,” Eris replied dryly. His voice was rougher too, not the deep, smooth tone Azriel had grown used to.

Azriel smiled, grabbed Eris’s hand and swept them into the beating heart of the city.

***

They spent the evening strolling through the busy streets of Velaris. The city was alive with color and movement and cheer. People shopped and dined and chatted happily and Azriel let himself get swept up in it. He took Eris through the Rainbow, showed him the Palaces and let him peruse a handful of shops selling trinkets and spelled artifacts. They dined in one of Azriel’s favorite restaurants overlooking the city. He would’ve liked to enjoy the night with Eris in the flesh, as it was jarring to glance over and see a stranger sitting before him, but if he looked closely, he could see Eris in the glint of his eyes, the smirk on his lips, the courtly arrogance he wore like a second skin.

When they were finished eating they sat in peaceful silence, content to take in the nightlife around them. Azriel watched Eris watch the city, his eyes swirling with some emotion Azriel couldn’t place. The glamour made it difficult to decipher Eris’s usual expressions, though even without it he still struggled to read the male.

“What are you thinking?” he asked. Eris didn’t look at him, though Azriel felt it as he slid a shield of hard air around them so they could speak freely without fear of being overheard. Eris leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table in front of him.

Eris waved a hand, gesturing to the twinkling city below them. “The City of Starlight.” Eris’s voice held a touch of resentment, though his face remained impassive. “The famed city for which Rhysand debased himself. I can’t help but wonder what might’ve happened if he’d used his power in those brief moments to stop her, rather than shield all of this.”

“He did it to protect us,” Azriel said sharply. His family never spoke of what Rhys had done to keep Amarantha distracted, and to hear it referred to so casually was jarring. “Don’t think he didn’t suffer for it.” And yet, Azriel had sometimes wondered the same thing, and hated himself for even thinking it. He’d been lucky, unlike so many others, that he had not been locked under that mountain. He would never stop being grateful for what Rhys had done for them. His brother had used those final seconds before his power had been stifled to hide Velaris from Amarantha. He’d tied Azriel, and Cassian and Mor and Amren, to the wards he’d erected around the city so that they were unable to leave without revealing its existence to the rest of Prythian.

Eris nodded faintly. “I don’t doubt that. We all suffered,” he said calmly.

“Is that why you hate us all so much?” Azriel asked coldly, even as dread and shame warred within him, turning his stomach. “Because we were here, safe, while you and your Court suffered?” He’d hated himself plenty for that exact reason. He suspected Mor and Cassian had felt the same. They had all withdrawn within themselves during those years, Azriel more than any of them, and each passing day his resentment of the city, and of himself, had grown until it threatened to choke him. Velaris was his home, and yet sometime during those 50 years it had started to feel like a prison.

Eris turned back to Azriel, eyes softening slightly as he studied his face. “Perhaps I merely find you all rather insufferable with this ‘court of dreamers’ nonsense,” he said wryly. Azriel rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He needed to hear him say it—needed to know if some part of Eris truly did still hate him. Eris sighed and glanced back out over the city. “No. If anything I’m glad this place remained untouched. I wish more of Autumn had fared the same.” Eris faced him once more, his head tilting. “Is that what you’ve thought all this time?” Eris was looking at him too intently for his liking, as if he could see right through the cold mask he wore. Azriel shrugged and looked away, not wanting Eris to see the pathetic turn his thoughts had taken.

He took in the boisterous crowd around him, loud with laughter and conversation and music. While most patrons avoided his gaze, others stared at him unabashedly with varying degrees of fear and awe. He did his best to appear unassuming and aloof, though it was difficult to go unnoticed. There were very few in Velaris who didn’t know who he was. He briefly met the gaze of a young female, eyes as black as night. She stared at him intently, unblinking, enough that he felt momentarily uneasy. Had the shield dropped? But he blinked and she had already turned away.

“This conversation has gotten too morose for my liking,” Eris said, drawing Azriel’s attention once more. He was smiling again, and Azriel’s blood heated at how handsome he looked in the fading light, the sky a pink and orange painting behind him. Eris angled his head, eyes glinting with humor. “So. Is it true what they say? The bigger the wingspan the bigger the cock?” Azriel gaped at Eris, utterly shocked at the crassness and absurdity of the question. And then he burst out laughing, all thoughts of guilt and suffering chased away by the fiery male before him.

***

As their night was finally winding down, they walked back through the streets, sleepier now in some parts, only just coming alive in others. They strolled in peaceful silence and had just reached Azriel’s apartment building when he heard someone call his name in greeting. His head snapped forward, and his heart began to race as he saw Lucien Vanserra coming up the stone path before him. Eris tensed beside him, as still as a statue.

“Lucien,” Azriel said tightly and nodded once. He and Lucien were not close, and likely never would be, but he respected the male and tried to find something to say that was both polite and would send him on his way, immediately.

Lucien glanced at Eris and his eyebrow quirked.

“Who’s your friend?” he asked innocently, though Azriel thought he saw a knowing twinkle in his russet eye. Azriel stared at Lucien blankly, and then glanced at Eris. Shit. They hadn’t planned to actually speak to anyone, let alone formulate a backstory for Eris’s glamoured identity.

Eris replied, “Cormac. A pleasure.” The words were stiff and awkward. Lucien smiled politely. No one spoke for several seconds and Azriel cringed inwardly. Lucien cleared his throat.

“Well, you two enjoy the rest of your night. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Azriel,” Lucien said smoothly. He inclined his head slightly and Azriel wished him well. Just as he breezed past Eris, and they thought they were in the clear, he turned and said dryly, “You know, you remind me a lot of my oldest brother. It’s the strangest thing.” He winked, and then continued down the pathway.

Eris and Azriel exchanged bemused looks. Eris let the glamour drop as Azriel pulled him into his apartment building, and then he started laughing in earnest. His shoulders shook with the force of it and Azriel couldn’t help but join in. He’d never seen or heard Eris truly laugh before. He was exquisite. Azriel’s chest squeezed with emotion at the sight of him so unrestrained and he rubbed a hand over his heart as if to calm it. Eris was beautiful, and Azriel wasn’t sure if Eris knew it. So he told him. Eris’s laugh faded and he beamed at Azriel, eyes glowing with amusement.

“Do you want to come up?” Azriel held his breath as he let the question hang. If Eris declined, he’d be fine. He’d had a nice night. It was one of the best he could remember in a long time. When Eris nodded, Azriel’s knees nearly wobbled in relief. He took Eris’s hand and let the shadows carry them upstairs.

***

Eris slowly took in the room around him. The last time he had been here he’d been delirious with blood loss and pain. Now his eyes were clear as he inspected Azriel’s space, likely noting the lack of photos or personal affects. Azriel watched him. It was strange—to see someone as vibrant and powerful as Eris in such an ordinary setting. Eris was made for grand ballrooms and elegant thrones, not this small one-bedroom apartment in a sleepy, forgotten corner of Velaris.

Eris turned and sat stiffly on the edge of the large bed, gazing heatedly at Azriel. His usual swagger was gone, and Azriel realized the male was nervous. It made him feel better about the way his heart was leaping out of his chest. He approached him slowly, wings shifting restlessly. He wanted this badly.

He decided not to let his own fear hold him back.

Azriel bent down and brushed his lips against the hard line of Eris’s jaw. He drew back and looked into those molten amber eyes—let Eris see the question in his own. He placed his hand over Eris’s heart and felt it pounding into his palm.

Eris hesitated, that guarded look still flickering in his eyes. And then he nodded slowly, and relief shuddered down Azriel’s spine. He slowly relieved Eris of his jacket and shirt, and then his shoes, and then pushed on his bare chest gently until the male laid back against the crisp white pillows on the bed. There were no snide remarks, no smirks, only the nervousness that Azriel desperately wished to wipe off his face.

His lips brushed along the long column of Eris’s throat as he leaned over him again, both hands on either side of his hips. Azriel felt the hard knot in Eris’s throat move against his mouth as he swallowed. Could feel his pulse pounding faster.

He pulled back slightly to scan his face again and Eris’s gaze threatened to burn him. He brushed his lips against Eris’s mouth and he opened for him instantly. Azriel’s tongue swept in and heady desire flowed through his veins like lava. He couldn’t get enough—wasn’t sure it would ever be enough—and he devoured each caress of Eris’s tongue like a male starved.

And then Azriel was trailing kisses down Eris’s chest, his stomach, as he deftly unfastened the ties of his pants, tugged them down and tossed them aside. He ran his fingers along the band of Eris’s tight briefs and the male tensed in anticipation. Azriel trailed his thumb over the hard bulge straining against the fabric and Eris’s hips jerked.

Azriel slowly removed those, too.

He straightened and took in the beautiful male laid bare before him. Eris’s body looked like it had been sculpted by an artist—all hard lines and perfectly chiseled muscle wrapped in creamy pale skin, though Eris had no shortage of scars. Azriel drank him in—let his eyes wander south and felt his skin burning hot as he saw the considerable evidence of Eris’s arousal. Eris flushed bright red under Azriel’s leisurely perusal of his body. He was beautiful—every scarred inch of him. Azriel’s chest tightened with emotion. He knew he was quickly falling for Eris. He had felt it happening and could do nothing to stop it. Didn’t want to stop it.

He finally dragged his gaze back up to meet Eris’s molten stare. He had never seen the male look so vulnerable, and Azriel found that he liked it. A lot. His handsome face was flushed, his full lips swollen and red. Eris had a natural grace about him that Azriel found so captivating and alluring, and so at odds with his own rigid exterior that sometimes he couldn’t believe any of this was real. That Eris had chosen him—desired him.

Azriel wrapped his shadows around those thick thighs dusted with red hair and spread them ever so slightly so he could kneel between them. He let his lips drag along the inside of Eris’s thigh, his hips, biting and kissing the skin there softly. His shadows snaked their way up Eris’s body, caressing and teasing until the male was panting beneath him, the tip of his cock leaking as his body trembled at every touch.

Eris moaned at the first lick of Azriel’s tongue. The shadows curled at the sound and the room darkened around them. He gently trailed his tongue over the seam of his balls, tight and full. Eris shuddered, his breath coming faster. Azriel slowly licked the male from base to tip, his tongue swirling around the head of his cock. He tasted Eris on his tongue and felt his own cock stiffen further in response.

“Az,” Eris breathed. Azriel’s wings twitched at the sound of his name whispered from those lips. He’d never heard Eris call him by his nickname. He liked it so much that he sucked the broad head into his mouth, letting his shaft slide between his lips as he swallowed him down fully. Or as much as he could swallow. Eris was huge. He added a hand to his base to squeeze what he couldn’t fit down his throat. Eris moaned again and the sound had Azriel unleashing himself.

He worshiped Eris with his mouth. Swirled his tongue around the swollen tip and took him deep in his throat as his hand pumped in time with the movement. The male thrusted his hips subtly with each bob of Azriel’s head, as if he didn’t want to hurt him but couldn’t resist his own lust. Azriel gripped his hips with both hands and dragged him deeper. Eris groaned and let his hand fall to Azriel’s head, fingers curling tightly in his hair. Eris’s chest glistened with sweat as he lost himself in the pleasure, thrusting hard into Azriel’s mouth. And Azriel met each thrust, swallowed him down greedily. The sight of Eris so undone had Azriel nearly spilling himself into his own pants.

Eris’s movements became frantic with need, and Azriel took him deeper, moaning against the hard length of his cock. He loved the slide of all that long proud steel against his tongue, down his throat. He continued working his hand and mouth in unison as his thrusts grew more desperate. His hands fisted in Azriel’s dark hair, and the painful tug sent pleasure skittering down his spine. Azriel gave his shaft another tight squeeze and sucked his lips over the tip. The male groaned, overcome with mindless need.

Eris’s hips bucked and he let out a guttural moan as he spilled himself down Azriel’s throat. Azriel swallowed every drop, feeling lightheaded from the heady taste of him, his own cock straining painfully against his zipper. Azriel stroked him gently as he rode out each wave of pleasure. When Eris had finally stopped shaking, Azriel kissed the glistening head of his cock softly and then stood. His eyes met Eris’s, lids heavy with contentment. There was a glazed look on his face as he reached his hand out to Azriel, to touch him, pleasure him in return, but Azriel only pulled the blanket over his naked, glistening body, kissed him softly on the lips and let the shadows sweep in and gently coax him to sleep. Only once his breathing had deepened and Azriel was sure he was fast asleep did he slide in behind Eris and curl his body around him. Eris was always warm, and Azriel liked being close to him. Soon he, too, drifted off to sleep.

Only much later would he realize it was the first time in centuries he had slept deeply enough to wake long after the sun had already risen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter

Tag List: @unanswered-stars @futurehunt

37 notes · View notes

prongsmydeer · 5 months ago

Text

Ayesha Liveblogs Bridgerton S3

"I must say, all those piano lessons in Bath have reaped their reward." Is this their subtle explanation for where This Francesca has been the past two seasons?

"You do realize what tune she was playing right now, don't you? Mozart's Funeral March." "Oh god." Benedict said: I am both a scholar of art AND a smart aleck, Mum

Say what you will, Bridgerton knows the power of a good haircut

LMAO did they have Colin get his tiddies out in the carriage just to show off how hot he is since it'll take a while for him to get naked with someone else?

"It would be pleasant to have my own house." LMAO Francesca, extremely real reason to get married

I like the Featheringtons' husbands, they're just here to vibe

Speaking of marrying into money, Kate is truly the most gorgeous person alive. Bridgerton said: Do you want to watch beautiful people in fancy outfits struggling to socialize? And I said: Yes!

The way that despite their troubles, Eloise STILL protects Penelope's identity and keeps Cressida from sniping at her. The love story of MY season

"My stories from abroad are not suitable for such tender young ladies." With all due respect to Colin: Brother eugh, what's that?

"I take comfort in knowing that you will always be here to take care of me." What's the 1810s equivalent of putting your parents in a home? A convent? Lady Featherington inches closer with her every word to Penelope

"Perhaps something like what they are wearing in Paris?" [...] "I love it brother. Where is it from?" "A trader in Marseille." "My perfume is from Paris?" Bridgerton said: SUBTLETY WHO, COLIN X PENELOPE 4EVER

The sneaky looks on Anthony and Benedict's faces as they help Gregory run away with his bow and arrow KILL me

"I lost the battle, and I've no appetite for the war, so I've joined the winning side. Not unlike you, I take it? Or is this truly the new you?" Eloise said: People in superficial society houses shouldn't throw stones, Colin

(Also. I am in love with Eloise, she charms me more every season. Though wild that they're dissing Emma, Austen has women with SO much agency and Emma specifically is the lady of her house, someone throughout the novel learns that she DOESN'T know everything, and who vows herself not to marry until she changes her mind and falls in love with a friend)

[Voice breaking] "Now you have your life, and I have mine." ELOISE WAHHHHHH. I think she is totally justified, but god, friendship breakups are SOOO brutal

"In truth, I enjoyed having a purpose. Whereas now that you're back, I'm not certain what I'm supposed to do exactly." Explore bisexuality, Benedict <3

YEAHHHHHH Mondrichs!!! I hope society is kind to them

HAHAHAHAHAH I love Kanthony

Kate: You do know that what we are doing is not how one makes an heir?

Anthony, head still between his wife's legs: We have to start somewhere.

If they don't want me to want Penelope and Eloise to be in love, they HAVE to stop making her look at Penelope like that

HAHAHAHHA I love that Penelope, while getting attention from her nice hair and dress, is still extremely awkward when being talked to by a man. It is endearing

After the Queen Charlotte spin-off, I have a new appreciation for Lady Danbury and the Queen's friendship. Agatha knows how to get Charlotte going, 'bestie Lady Whistledown will get more recognition than you if you do not tell everyone who the hottest young debutante is'

Wondering if Kate's gown style is meant to invoke salwar kameez?

I hope Francesca and Penelope become closer!! Two gals who would rather die than talk to any man in this room:

"Why do I have the feeling that you in turn, know how to make one wither, if you so choose?" I do like Lord Debling so far, even if he looks MUCH older than Pen LOL

Every time they have a one-on-one interaction between a man and woman I'm like, why does it only sometimes matter if they're chaperoned LOL? Inconsistent

"You miss me, but you'd never court me. Is that correct?" GET HIM PEN

Not a season goes by that the Featheringtons are not in some kind of financial trouble. They're like the Coopers from The O.C.

"You disapprove? I thought we did not like Penelope." "What you did was cruel and unnecessary." I like both halves of this interaction, that Cressida is saying 'we' as in wanting to be on the same side as Eloise, and that Eloise is calling Cressida out for how awful she's been treating Penelope

I like that Cressida is both acknowledging that she's been unkind but also giving mind to the fact the women of the ton have been raised to be in competition with each other

God I love Kate and Anthony this season, sappy and sex-addled but also Kate making sure to think of Violet's needs and how difficult it would be to suddenly no longer be viscountess

While I do love the idea of charm lessons, and I cannot help but notice MOST of what Colin likes about Penelope are about him, "I know that you will lift my spirits, and make me see the world in ways I could not have imagined." "[You] have always truly made me feel appreciated.") Don't love that

"I will never forgive her," said Colin, about the woman he just called his very good friend and would later go on to marry

Surely the Mondrichs can decide how things are done in their own house, I highly doubt Violet and her husband or Kate and Anthony do separate bedrooms

HAHAHAH I wonder how many episodes Eloise will have fancy hand muffs to hide Claudia Jessie's broken arm

I guess I was wrong about Colin not getting naked, he's just frequenting brothels I suppose?

"Pen, living for the estimation of others is a trap." Spoken like a man who can inherit property and fortune through means other than marriage

I was thinking Francesca and Eloise were on similar plights, but it seems more that Francesca's beef is with any sort of attention than with being married

Hee hee, I love Hyacinth beating her older brothers at cards

"Somehow my character gets lost between my heart and my mouth." I feel that, Penelope! I have no idea what I'm saying half the time

"Your eyes are a most remarkable shade of blue, and yet they shine even brighter when you are kind." If I were Colin, this would immediately do me in, a compliment that specific is really something

This journal thing is symptomatic of Penelope's lack of respect for anyone's privacy, even if it is good she understands what Colin was doing in Paris

"I do not wish for her to be friendless, and you are perhaps all she has now." Eloise is SO understanding given what Penelope has said about her AND Colin

"I think of Prudence as a bonbon. Delicate, and oh so agreeable." "Mr. Dankworth, you are so... pretty." I love Mr. Dankworth. Pretty, loves his wife, gives great compliments, what more can I ask for?

Bold of Eloise to tell Cressida about Colin helping Penelope, she knows that Cressida has been purposely cruel to Pen before

"I think we have found your talent. You are a most entertaining speaker." YEAHHHHH Eloise, getting along with the girls with her gift for gab

"How are we expected to understand all these society rules when even someone born into this world cannot grasp them?" [Benedict makes a face but then smiles at being insulted] As I have been from his very first moment on screen, I'm in love with Benedict:

"We kiss, and then he makes an odd sound, and then goes to change his breeches." "His breeches remain on?" HAHAHAHAH every season there's a problem with no one offering the ladies any formal sex education

"I cannot think of anything [to gossip about] at the moment." GOOD FOR CRESSIDA

"I do not much care for idle gossip," said Penelope, like she wasn't the Queen of Capitalizing on Idle Gossip

I am SHOCKED that they have a character in a wheelchair on this show, and even more shocked there wasn't immediately some comment drawn to it, but glad! It may be a weird show when it comes to race, but at least it's not weird when it comes to ability?

The way the Colin Has Been Helping Penelope reveal was SO dramatic I thought it might actually be a dream sequence

"We can do whatever we want now. We are a married noble couple." That's what I'm talking about, Will

Penelope said: "Be a homie and kiss me," and Colin said: "I do not have the strength to deny that kind of request!"

This second kiss HAS to be a dream sequence, there's no way they'd jump into this without any preamble

Oh it was COLIN'S dream sequence, love that for him!!!!

Fhfkhfkjhf Colin: I did NOT have a wet dream, in case anyone wanted to know!

"[Hyacinth] waits for the maids to throw out last week's copy of Whistledown because she knows she is not allowed to read it." HAHA this is such a big brother thing for Benedict to say

"It was quite harsh what she wrote about you. Unnecessarily so, I think." Eloise said, be nicer to yourself, bestie

Colin does not know how to act around Penelope, this is the first time I've been endeared by him all season

"If I secure a proposal, it will be because of you." You know what that is, Penelope? Foreshadowing!

[Disdainfully] "Apparently he only eats vegetables." They disapprove of vegetarianism in Georgian England. Also. What a thing to say in front of two South Asian women, when India has the HIGHEST proportion of vegetarians in the world, and also has many historical and ongoing ties between vegetarianism and spirituality kjghgkjhg

Is the open mocking of other people supposed to be why we as the audience should be okay with Penelope exploiting other people's drama for profit? Cause I still don't appreciate 1810s Gossip Girl

God, Mrs. Mondrich is SO gorgeous. Peak beautiful people in fancy outfits

"I find your frankness immensely refreshing." I like Lord Debling more with every scene

"Do you feel some attachment to him?" Colin said: Penelope do you still like me check yes or no

Penelope just going "Yeah, me too," to all of Cressida's specific commentary about Lord Debling's interests is difficult to watch

Colin stopping the balloon is the first moment I have personally been attracted to him (ever, I think). I think the more casual outfit does do him some favours. This is his Anthony in the Lake moment

Weel weel weel, perhaps Violet will be finding someone to tend to her garden (her libido) soon

"I see you have met my brother, Lord Marcus Anderson." It would be SOOOOO funny if Violet fucks Lady Danbury's brother after finding out Danbury fucked her dad. It's very messy friendship LMAOOOO

"Perhaps we can enjoy the silence together." I like this man

"I am not afraid of you." "That... is a mistake." I was hoping Benedict would get to flirt with a man this season, but alas it does not seem to be in the cards (you're still bisexual to me, Benedict Bridgerton)

"Members of society do not work." Then how do they make money? Is it only what the crown gives you? What about the lawyers and doctors? Also lol @ this guy admitting that being a landlord isn't an honest line of work

"I do not wish to court someone exactly like myself. I want to be with someone who knows who they are, and embraces their own pecularity, as I do." Men in real life can never do for me what the men in Bridgerton do for me

"It is rare to begin as friends and for both parties to then feel more." I love that Colin is seeking out romantic advice from his mum, he's the only child so far who has earnestly listened to her

HAHAHAH not the I'm-asking-for-a-Friendcesca routine

Colin looked SO desperate to kiss Penelope that for a second I thought he might actually do it in the ballroom in front of everyone

They're selling me on Debling a little TOO much; it's like Daphne and the Prince. Like I know Pen and Colin are great friends, and that they have feelings for each other, but Debling seems like he would make an amazing husband, while I am less convinced that Colin would. Colin is sweet, but he is not street smart, and lacks the emotional awareness that Debling has:

Even if it's not what I ordered, I do enjoy Benedict catting around

What is Lady Danbury's beef with her brother LOL

"Step another pace backwards, you read me too well." Queen Charlotte's spinoff has really made me have a whole new appreciation for Brimsley

"But how will they know each other if they do not speak?" Honestly a very valid question, Violet

Considering that Lord Samadani wants to have eight kids, perhaps he should ask how many kids Francseca wants?

"Well, let him tell you about it. Men love to explain the world to us. If we have already explained it to ourselves through reading, then they will feel superfluous and unnmanned." Lady Featherington years ahead of her time in defining mansplaining HAHA

"Are there any novels in which the man goes travelling for a very long time, but his wife is happy to stay behind, tending the estate? I suppose that would not be a book with much sentiment, would it?" "Not necessarily. But if the wife had her own interests in life, then perhaps they could both be very happy." "A practical match, but a happy one? I like the sound of that." Again, you are selling me on Debling too well. I cannot believe you are making me root for a blond man with a Vegeta hairline*

*There's nothing wrong with the way this man looks, he just looks much older than Penelope!

"But it is tiring, is it not? The necessity for us to remain caveliar about the one thing in life that holds genuine meaning. Do you not find it lonely?" Colin Discovers: Toxic Masculinity Bad

"Do you know what is romantic? Security." Real, Lady Featherington

"My head is bottle-weary." What a poetic way to say you're hungover

Do we think Cressida and Eloise could fall in love? Let me have at least one lesbian in this show, please:

"And is your heart located in your breeches?" Apparently Lady Danbury's beef with her brother is that he is a slut

"To be honest, my work has such a large portion of my heart it may difficult to make more space. But I am very glad that you are someone who seems to have such a full life." Alright, I can see why Debling might not be the perfect match

Colin said: What up Penelope I'm here to ruin your marital prospects

"But these past few weeks have been full of confounding feelings. Feelings like a total inability to stop thinking about you. About that kiss. Feelings like dreaming of you when I'm asleep. And in fact, preferring sleep because that is where I might find you. A feeling that is like torture. But one which I cannot, will not, do not want to give up." I'll hand it to Colin, that was a pretty good confession, 8/10, I'd knock points off for the torture remark

Whoever is dating the Bridgerton cast has to be so strong, these scenes so impassioned

"For God's sake, Penelope Featherington, are you going to marry me or not?" Good for them!!!

I will say, bold choice to hard launch to the fam in the wee hours of the night immediately after a ball and fingering in the carriage, but if anyone's going to be cool about it, it's the Bridgertons:

EXTREMELY fair of Eloise to exit right away when she finds out her best friend with whom she has shared a borderline romantic breakup after several years of exploitation of her family for money and at least two pointed attacks on Eloise and her brother suddenly announces she's gonna be her sister-in-law

"And until he knows the real you, he cannot possibly love you." YOU RIGHT, ELOISE

"I will tell him. You have my word." "Very well." Kind of Eloise to still take Penelope at her word

NOT BENEDICT MISSING HIS BROTHER'S ENGAGEMENT BECAUSE HE WAS OUT PHILANDERING

Anthony and Kate are SO beautiful. I loooove them

"I am simply enjoying the view of my ravishing wife, and soon-to-be mother of my child." OOOOOh Kanthony baby, love that for them

HAHAHAHAH Anthony immediately forgetting how happy he is about the baby because he is PISSED another sibling is getting married without his permission

"I am one of the brothers as well." "I think of you as the family pet." BRUTAL HYACINTH HAHA

"If I do have to marry a man who could be my great-grandfather, we can at least use his money to shop, and queen over society like Lady Danbury." Cressida you are so lesbian to meeee

"The final part, the betrothal. it did all happen rather... swiftly." "It was swift because you--" "Are you going to duel your own brother or...?" Anthony's definitely thinking about it, Benedict!

Anthony insisting on Colin telling Penelope the depth of his feelings for her. That's growth, baby!

"I proposed to [Penelope] out of love, nothing less. And were you not so narrowly concerned over your own standing, you might see see that Penelope is the most eligible amongst you." Now THIS is the romance I'm talking about, Colin

"I will always stand up for you. Because I love you... Pen." "Are you sure?" [Nods] AWWWW they're so sweet

"You are cleverest, bravest woman I have ever known." Finally a compliment that feels like it's about Penelope (even if it was immediately followed by a comment about Colin)

I love Colin's Lustful List of How Hot His Fiancee is, and that he asks her specifically if she wants to stop because she's a lady!!

Oh smutty consensual Bridgerton, we back baybeeeeeeeee

"Tell me what to do." "I will do everything." "No, tell me." Ohhhhhh I love this

I LOVE knowing that Nicola Coughlan requested to be as naked as possible for this scene as a memory of how hot she is. And she was RIGHT

"Can we do it again?" "Give me five minutes. Maybe ten." HAHAHA this was a perfect scene from start to finish

"Is this the only reason you wish to delay our news? You are happy, I hope?" "Oh... Very happy." I love Anthony checking in on Kate about her pregnancy. He is such a sweet husband

"I wish to be married. Very much, in fact. I just hope my husband will not hide my piano stool from me." "I would not dream of it." I have been sold on John Stirling since his first shared silence with Francesca, I love them!!

"You seem to be quite good at [planning hospitality.]" "Oh, I am. I'd still much rather be out riding somewhere." I love Eloise and Kate's friendship also

"Finally, the woman will get the consequences she deserves." You see, Penelope, this is why you should have told Colin you were Whistledown BEFORE you agreed to marry him. Or before sex, or at any point whatsoever. You KNOW he has beef with Whistledown. This is engagement-ending stakes

God Eloise has been SO reasonable this whole time but I really do think the 5000 pound reward is a fair incentive to sell Penelope down the river for her own sake or even for Cressida's. It's tough being a lady in the 1800s!

"Somber clothing is best. Gray or brown. And we do not flit about town, engaged in gossip within the ton. We shall attend no more than one ball per month, and only if the hosts are of strong moral character. I certainly do not believe in music, and modern art nowadays is absolutey scandalous. Her tender eyes and ears will never be exposed to such filth." Not to be dramatic but I think Lord Greer has to die. Somebody needs to spook him really hard, he's like 105, it won't take much

"Featheringtons support one another." "Is that what you were doing earlier, supporting me?" "You are right, I have been unkind. But it stops now. And thankfully we have your engagement party coming up to allow us our fresh start." Parents really do think they can fix years of trauma with a single 'my bad'

"Your ledgers will not miss you, but your family will." A good wake-up call for Mondrich

"Do not take an interest in her. I have a new bow and arrow. Would you like to see it?" Tweens are still the same in 1815 HAHA

Hahaha Lady Danbury could not be emanating "Please don't fuck my brother," vibes harder. To which Lady Bridgerton said, "You fucked my dad, I'm definitely fucking your brother!"

"If it proves too difficult for you to reveal the truth, I will be merciful and reveal it to him myself. You have until midnight." Good for Eloise for giving her a deadline!!

AWWWWW John struggling through the boots story. He said: I'm an introvert and I will not be socialized, xoxo

"I know it is unlike you to cajole your own children." "You mock me." "As you rightly mocked me all last season." I missed these interactions between Anthony and Mama Bridgerton!!! I love when the Bridgertons are all in the same place

HAHAHAHA not Eloise dropping a really threatening post-script to Colin's speech about how excited he is for marriage

If they don't want me to want Penelope and Eloise to be in love, they gotta stop being so fucking intense all the time. They're turning charades into their own private intellectual battle

Also Cressida is reasonably, pretty jealous, considering the homoerotic friendship fight vibes. She said: Hey, I thought it was my turn to be gay!

Eloise said: I do not have time for two homoerotic friendships, sorry Cressida, Penelope has seniority

"All that to say, sometimes I miss what is right in front of me. But not Miss Francesca. Her, I saw straight away." I love you John, you are my favourite Bridgerton character of the season (book readers, tell me nothing!!)

"It is a great change, but you and I will make our way with our child, as we have always done with each other," said Anthony, like they weren't a whole mess last season public fucking in the Bridgerton gardens and getting into horse accidents

OMGGGGGGGGGG Cressida! Saying she's Whistledown so that she doesn't have to marry Lord Greer is truly a 'work smarter, not harder' moment

The smart move for Penelope would be to say nothing at all as Lady Whistledown and see how the Cressida thing pans out. Also, TELL COLIN!!

"You have many gifts, but cleverness is not amongst them." A harsh review on Cressida from Mama Cowper

"It is one thing to follow the rules. But if you want to win the game, you must lead it. Otherwise you will always be on the defensive." I love Agatha mentoring the Mondrichs

"Lady Bridgerton. Forgive my intrusion, I simply forgot my hat." Lord Anderson left his hat so he'd have an excuse to see her again. This is No. 1 in the Flirting Playbook

My question is: How do you have a booty call when you have have seven of your children in your house. Eight if you count in-laws!

Anderson really came to just flirt with Violet and leave. I love that!

"Excuse me, I have been taken ill of the plague, and you are all doomed by association." HAHAHA John is so funny. I keep saying I love him, but it's true

HAHAHAH Benedict ending his macaron fight with Gregory and Hyacinth by saying "Last macaron for you," to John, his new soon-to-be brother-in-law is incredible family dynamics at play

"Perhaps I can make Lady Whistledown go away, so she shall not be able to harm any of us again." "You will speak with Miss Cowper?" "With the scribe herself." Eloise is a WAY better friend than Penelope deserves

"Eloise, I have worked too hard for too long. Of all people, I refuse to let Cressida Cowper take credit." We have passed Bad Friend and circled to deranged. It is NOT girl boss behaviour to lie to your fiance and BRAG about exploiting your friend. Get some help, Penelope!

"Lady Whistledown is my name. Not hers." "Your name is about to Bridgerton. You cannot be both." YOU TELL HER, ELOISE

"We think speaking to the Queen would be the wisest decision." "Well, if you think you are up to it." "We would like you to speak to the Queen." Francesca said: I'm not afraid to have my mommy fight my battles for me

"What about my dreams?" "What dreams? Ladies do not have dreams. They have husbands." I know is a great line and a really stark commentary on the lack of independence for women of the era, but it also kinda reminds me of 'I do not remember names, I am female' in Queen Charlotte and that kills me a bit HAHA

"And my greatest wish has always been for you three to do better than I did. And you have." Penelope having her Mum Trauma healed in real time

Also Lady Featherington, the mess that she is, continues to be one of the most compelling characters in this show

"I am hosting a dinner party later this week. For you, and me, and my dear friend Paul. Will you come?" [CHANTING] BISEXUAL BENEDICT, BISEXUAL BENEDICT, LET HIM KISS PAUL

"I'm writing a manuscript in fact." [High pitched, perturbed] "Oh, are you?" That's also how I feel about Colin's manuscript, Benedict

Colin dancing with Penelope in the empty church <3 Stoppp it's so sweet. (Also. TELL HIM)

"May I present Lady Keswick." Danbury said: You will not be fucking my best friend on my watch, brother!! If only Eloise was this efficient

"It is no wonder Penelope abandoned you. All you ever do is talk. You clearly just envious that I have made something of myself." "Perhaps I am envious of Whistledown. It is quite a feat. And after spending a season feeling nearly invisible, I almost understand why one might be driven to write it. Congratulations on your hard-earned success." Not another homerotic friendship break-up. That's 2 for 2, Eloise!

It must be weird for all the Featheringtons now that Penelope is the favourite child

Well, burning every copy of Whistledown she's made and hanging up her pen is the second best thing that Penelope could do other than TELLING COLIN

They're really namedropping the town of Mayfair more this season than any before it

"You know my favourite part about dressmaking is seeing the glow on a woman's face when she puts the dress on. I can't imagine ever giving that feeling up. At any rate, we will make you the most beautiful dress." I appreciate Delacroix sharing what she thinks about Penelope giving up the column without pushing her in any sense

Things are going pretty well for me Bisexual Threesome Dreams:

Every since that one post about how the Bridgertons are the Kardashians of their town because they're popular, rich and keep getting with people of colour, I CANNOT stop thinking about it. Particularly for Lady Bridgerton and Lord Anderson, who are now Nicer Kris Jenner and Old Timey Hoe Corey Gamble in my mind

HAHAHAHAH Agatha really said: Marcus I will introduce you to EVERY widow in this town if it keeps you away from Violet

"Not bad. Not bad at all." God I love the Mondrichs earning the Queen's respect by throwing the sickest first ball the town has seen

"I have supported you." "You have been perfunctory in your support." Something something when the people who you love fail you

"Not every attachment must be dramatic and hard-fought. What John and I have is easy... and I love him, Mama. Even if it is not the love you want for me." We have now circled back to Violet's S2 ideology that Bridgertons are physically incapable of having a healthy courtship. Francesca has one, and it's nearly destroying her relationship with her mother LMAO

"The night before I was to be married, I very nearly escaped to freedom. Do you think I did not know that it was you who betrayed me to our father? I heard him thank you." That's really fair, I know it's been like 30 years and Agatha has a really nice life now, but financial independence does not make up for years of marital [LOUD FOGHORN NOISE] and the general unpleasantness of being married to Lord Danbury

"Soma. Soma..." "Soma? You think you can call me by my born name, and right the wrong?" Lord Danbury took her NAME? EUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I genuinely think that Marcus didn't know. It's giving, for me it was the worst day of my life, for you, it was a Tuesday

"Apparently the wine has made me rather rude." "It has also made you rather charming." I think Benedict is about kiss a man. I have NEVER been happier while watching Bridgerton. I have been saying Bi Benedict since Day 1. He's my people. That is a bisexual man!! I had to pause to hop around for a minute because I am that thrilled at the possibility what I have been asking for 3 years might actually come to fruition. GOD BLESS SHONDALAND. [HOLT FROM B99 VOICE] VINDICATION

Benedict after a man has flirted with him for the first time: I gotta go think about some stuff

I was joking, but HE DID have to go think about some stuff. Aww baby, you'll get there!

Not "[In BSL] she is the Devil," at Cressida hahahaha Sign Language Mama doesn't hold back

"Those [personal passages in my journal] are only for you." Awwww Colin that's sweet

Cressida is so unhinged for posting a Whistledown mid-ball. I do love the drama of it though

HAHAHA them having a close-up of Mama Cowper's arm with ink stains if we couldn't tell it was her from Cressida's near-and-far-far-and-wide speech earlier to the cohesive bulletin of her mum's writing. They don't do subtlety in Bridgerton

AWWWW the Crisis of Cowpers bringing Eloise and Penelope back together again. I can only imagine Colin's gonna overhear their conversation

"Writing was the only way I felt I could have a voice. And I should've been using the column to give a voice to the other voiceless. I have done plenty of damage with my pen. Please, let me use it now to do some good." "You must get a full issue out right away." I LOVE YOU PENELOPE AND ELOISE SOLVING THIS TOGETHER. CRIMES PARTIALLY FORGIVEN, PEN!

"You... are Lady Whistledown?" Turns out he followed her to the publishing house. FINALLY THOUGH. Talk it out, you Bonkers Betrothed

[Tearfully] "All of the lies... you have told me. All of the things you have written about me and my family." That is SUCH a fair reaction Colin, Penelope really has built an empire on shit-talking your family in secret

"I will never forgive you." Really? Cause you've got like 3 weeks to figure it out before your wedding, Colin

"Perhaps, because a few of [the Bridgerton children] may be of dubious parentage." What does that even MEAN, Cressida!! Which parent are you suggesting was getting around

Also, how's Penelope planning to explain the situation with Colin to anyone. What's Colin gonna do? The last time a woman lied to him, he had to end an engagement

"How many eyes exactly do you think there are in the ton?" "Double the amount of people, I would imagine." Philippa and Prudence's dialogue is great

"Whenever I try to grasp her hand these days, she does not swat it away with nearly the same gusto." Prudence has married the only man in this town with a rejection kink

"Perhaps I should read it then. I could use a distraction." You can't read your way out of bisexuality, Benedict. Try taking Am I Gay Quizzes and failing them. It worked for me!

"I cannot help you with this, Pen. I am so grateful for everything you have done for me, but already, I feel in the middle between you and Colin. Perhaps I always have been." That's because your friendships always lean romantic, Eloise!! And your best friend loves to lie all day every day

"But I hope you know that my care for you is not contingent on your aid. I am here for you, Agatha. Always. Even when there are no unmarried children left to help." [Softly] "Thank you, Violet. That means a great deal to me." Ohhhhh I love their friendship

"Are you going to stop publishing?" "I do not know." At least Penelope is finally being honest

Colin said: I'm still gonna marry you, but I'm not gonna be happy about it, Pen!!!

HAHAHAHA Tilley inviting Benedict over for an After You Ran Away from Our Threesome Offer Debrief. You know, I found them boring in the first half, but they've really sold me on the second half

"I have known men like Mr. Suarez, but I myself have never felt tempted... before." Oh, that's a qualifier Benedict

"But a feeling between two people, whatever their sex, is the most natural thing in the world." Lady Tilley said: Let me be your Bisexual Guru, Benedict

"If you did not feel anything with Mr. Suarez, then let us, you and I, continue on our own. But you should know... my staff are very discreet." GOD. That we are not only getting bisexual Benedict but that he is getting a bisexuality ARC. More than I could've asked for. I am kissing the Bridgerton writers on the mouth. Giggling and kicking my feet

Look at him trying to figure out if his sexuality. Benedict Girl til I die. FAVE FROM DAY 1

Violet lustfully watching Lord Anderson eat a fruit jelly. This is EXACTLY what Colin did to Penelope. Like mother, like son. All of her kids are different aspects of her personality

"I am not uninterested in exploration. But I will not know if I am ready for that, until after the affairs are... in order. Especially because I am not the only whose affairs need ordering." Violet said: We cannot start a situationship until you sort out your relationship with your sister, Marcus

When Cressida stared into the mirror I did expect Chappell Roan to start playing in violins

"Well, if I am to be bold, I should need some time to think about it." HAHAHA John Stirling, love of my life (second only to Benedict)

"Is everything well?" "Is everything well with you?" The B & C are really going through it on this stag night

"You were a girl who did not know her own power." "But does that justify it?" "No." Madame Delacroix is the realest friend

I really am glad that Colin is airing out all of his beefs with the Whistledown papers. He deserves to give her a lecture

"I can take care of myself." "Then what good am I to you?" "Colin, I love you!" Colin, you have value beyond what you can do for others

Also I can't believe they're ending this fight by getting frisky on the street. WHERE ARE YOUR PRIORITIES, YOU FREAKS? (AFFECTIONATE)

Relationship status: It's extremely complicated:

"Two glasses is celebratory. One whole bottle is a cry for help." HAHAH I love Kate's zingers, she's truly sharp as a tack

[Kate, laughing] "You think our marriage is perfect?" [Anthony, immediatley heartbroken] "Is it not?" HAHAHAH THEY ARE SO CUTE

Every time Kate makes any reference to marriage being hard, Anthony immediately gets upset and goes, 'I love you, our marriage has no flaws, why are you bullying me?'

"I drunk a whole bottle before my wedding (the second wedding) and it was deeply celebratory. Three raw eggs in the morning." It's been a while since Anthony has broken out Dad Mode, but that was a good one

The context that Marcus was 10 years old when he ratted out Agatha trying to escape really does make me not blame him quite so hard for it. He was a kid, he didn't understand long term consequences!

"You had something in you all along, a kind of courage I never dreamed of having. I have wished so many times that I had stood up to him. For you. For myself." New Bridgerton Dubious Race Trope unlocked: Why do all the Black characters (Simon, Agatha, the ongoing plot around the Mondrichs, Marina and Charlotte not having parents at all) have abusive or absent fathers? Discuss

But to be fair, most people in Bridgerton have absent or dead fathers. They're like 'Men? We don't need 'em!'

Also, good for Marcus for putting his resepect for his sister into words

"Do not come for my cane. I suppose you got all the good joints in the family." What a chronic pain sister with a healthy brother mood

"At last, my life is full of joy. And I've been afraid you would take it away from me." "Any joy I am after, I deep hope you are a large part of." Ohhhhhhh we love a healing of family trauma. This is the season of Therapizing Your Relatives

The way they keep referencing Anthony and Kate's wedding that they completely skipped. LOL

WHY IS YELLOW BY COLDPLAY THEIR WEDDING MARCH SONG LMAOOOOO

To date they have not shown a wedding under normal circumstances. Someone's always fighting, or lying, or under duress. It's brutal actually

Ohhhhh the way Colin nods at Penelope like 'we'll be okay.' MY HEART. I do love that they are friends in love getting married

I do feel like this was the most normal wedding so far. Good for them!

"Which brother or sister do you like the best?" "Gregory, clearly." HAHAHA I love Benedict and Eloise's little chats. Best sibling duo

"Love is not finite, Eloise. The friendship you have with Penelope is a lucky thing. As is the one you have with Colin." AWWW Eloise is sad because she thinks they don't have room for her in their hearts (Penelope especially, I think)

"Our child... will always be a Bridgerton. But I should like them to know that they are a Sharma as well, know their history. And it is important for me to know it so that we can share that history, with our child, together." I know that this India trip probably solves a plot purpose of giving Anthony and Kate a place to be but I can't help but also think of what a great example of cross-cultural parenting Anthony is providing. He's so good!!

Anthony and Kate really do be kissing in public all the time, HA

"Weddings are never for the bride and groom, even when things are... well, between the couple." "Thank you, for allowing me work it out for myself." [Lightheartedly] "Well, this wedding couldn't plan itself. I have not had time to meddle. Whatever it is, I know you will resolve it." Lady Featherington and Penelope have come a long way

Them doing the cutaway to them being the only people in the room while they dance. I see you 2005 Pride and Prejudice fan who did directed this scene

"I did not think you a dancer." "Perhaps not. But perhaps we should both be more bold in declaring ourselves." Is it unfair to Colin and Penelope if I say Lord Kilmartin and Francesca are my favourite couple of the season? 'Cause they are

Now that Lady Danbury is cool with Violet and Marcus, Anthony has switched to 'HEY. HEY DO NOT HIT ON MY MUM, LORD ANDERSON. THAT'S MY MUM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!' O'VISION

I love that the Queen said, "Everyone who's not a Bridgerton, get out," and Lady Danbury said, "Hey, I am at least half Bridgerton by now, I'm staying."

"Do you know what it is like to have nowhere in the world where you can truly be yourself? You cannot possibly know, because you are not a woman. You have the choice to be any kind of person you wish to be, while the only choice women have is to conceal the parts of us the world will not accept." Penelope said: Lying to your fiance and exploiting his family for money is feminism, actually

It's very reasonable for Colin to not accept Penelope continuing to be Whistledown

Aww at least Eloise and Penelope's friendship is back in full force

VINDICATIONNNNNNNNN. BISEXUAL BENEDICT CANON. I WIN. WE ALL WIN. I KNEW HE WAS THE MOST BISEXUAL BRIDGERTON. YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

They split this season in two halves just so they could bisexualize Benedict during Pride Month. That's the reason. I've decided. Happy Pride Month to me!!!!

Also the emotional contrast of these last couple of scenes jgjhgjh

Colin: Fighting with his wife about life-altering deal-breaking secrets 0.03 seconds into marriage, on edge, disappointed and heartbroken

Benedict: Realizing there's a whole other kind of sex he could be having, and having a great time

"You will pay me my sum, or I will reveal the truth to the entire ton." Cressida isn't nice, but she did make a good detective and subsequently, blackmailer

Poor Violet trying to avoid being thrown into scandal once more. Also her and Anthony with parallel declarations that they would've noticed if someone in their house was Whistledown, even though it was Penelope, who until now, has lived across the street

Also also also: Francesca now dropping her own news that she's moving to Scotland Post-Haste

It is satisfying to see Penelope, Colin, Eloise and Lady Featherington all trying to sort out this Whistledown blackmail because they're all aware

"I will not cower to Miss Cowper. I will call upon her tomorrow. Bring her to see this course of action is ruinous for everyone involved." Good luck, Colin

HAHAHAHA again with the contrast of Benedict's family being in crisis while he is off Philandering: Bisexuality Edition

"You do not sound as if you hate Whistledown. You sound as if you are jealous of her." [Unconvincingly] "No I'm not."

Cressida making the sum twice as much + a nice review in Whistledown when Colin tries to empathize with her with his excellent man-free-for-world-travels and supportive family. I'm not gonna lie, kinda girlboss of her

HAHAHAHA Benedict has had no scenes in the past half an hour of Bridgerton but back-and-forths to him and Paul and Tilley. I love it. He's having a great night. They're leaving no doubt about him enjoying this

Also. Not to be bisexual myself. But Benedict being with a man and a woman at the same time is doing more for me than any other Bridgerton scene has ever done. It's a combination of vindication, being a Benedict girl, and the high of hot bi people. Bridgerton. I once again give you a little kiss on the mouth

"You are both adults. You may do as you wish. After all, it is not as though I asked your permission." I cannot believe Agatha is using this Are-You-Gonna-Date-My-Brother talk to confirm that she fucked Violet's dad. Unhinged. Incredible. What the hell!!

"I know my father was a good man. And that you have been a very good friend. And that is all I need to know." Not good enough to not cheat on his wife though, Violet! But I love the sentiment

"And my brother is a good man. And you are a good friend. And that is all I need to know as well." Awww, I do love a mirrored dialogue. I've said it before but Agatha and Violet's friendship is perhaps my favourite on this show

The zoom in on the Birthday hat was EVIL. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

"How do you stand society events?" "I suppose I have love to give in abundance. Love for a bit of chitchat. And love for a good party. Especially a party of three." Benedict is still a romantic at heart, even in a threesome pile

OMG HAS COLIN KEPT EVERY LETTER PENELOPE HAS EVER WRITTEN HIM? I LOOOVE

This does kind of get me thinking of how they handle garbage disposal in Georgian England

Finally the embezzlement funds from Cousin Jack come back to haunt them. The Featheringtons are never not in financial crisis

"What will Lady Whistledown write about our disgrace when I am exposed?" "She will write whatever I like her." "That is a agreat power. What a thing you have made for yourself." This is the most optimistic final take Lady Featherington could have on her daughter being an infamous gossip columnist

"It is my great hope that the silence and beauty of Scotland will allow me to know myself better, so that you can all know me better as well. I want nothing more than to be close." Francesca has such a good heart

"For a long time, I thought that is what love must be like for everyone. Surprising, forceful, quick. But you have shown me that there is another way. There is... beauty in the slow approach." You know what that is, Violet? That's growth! She's such a good mum

"May you now live together in holy matrimony until your dying breath." Ominous way to end their vows (book readers, tell me nothing!!)

What is the proper way to court a widow? I guess we'll find out!

"Lady Bridgerton, I see your openness reflected in Benedict, your charm in Colin, your wisdom in Eloise, and a brightness you've instilled in both Gregory and Hyacinth. In this moment, where I feel so much gratitude for my new wife, I feel it in equal measure for the remarkable woman who raised her. I thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my heart." Good speech John, I think you've really won the Bridgertons over

Francesca and John's wedding wins for most normal for sure

AW FRANCESCA AND VIOLET'S DUET. Something something complex relationships with your mother:

Also also also. Why are half the scenes in Bridgerton filmed like we're in somebody's pocket. Or in the flower vase. The huge blurs are distracting

"It is not what you do for me that makes me love you. It is your kindness. Your empathy. How much you care. Just being you is enough, Colin. I do not need you save me. I just need you stand by me." I'm glad Penelope is telling Colin this outright, he needed to hear it

"Tilley, you are extraordinary, but I am not certain that serious is what I want." Benedict is the only Bridgerton who knows how to communicate his feelings directly right away

"Is it because of Paul?" "No. Paul could be Patricia, or Polly, or Peter, or all three at once. What happened between the three of us, what has happened to me since I met you, has made me realize how good it feels to be free. You've opened my world. I am not ready to close it again just now." Benedict said: I gotta sow my wild bisexual oats, Tilley, I am not looking for a wife at present

We are BACK at the Bisexual and Lesbian Sibling Swingset. This is where I first grew so attached to Benedict and Eloise. It really is a full circle moment:

"It feels right now that the next thing I learn may change me entirely." "I agree profoundly with everything you've said, as I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." Their dialogue is so fun

"We should not let so long pass again between us before we meet on these swings to be entirely confused together." BENEDICT. B AND E BEST SIBLING DUO

Lady Featherington saying she's proud of her daughters like it's been ripped out of her forcefully. She is so my mum-coded LMAO

"She calls upon my mercy, asking to address you all herself. To plead her case publicly, before I pass my judgment. So I turn the floor over now to the scribe herself." This is a very dramatic way to resolve the Lady Whistledown situation but I guess they did leave it til the last 20 minutes of the season

Also RIP Cressida, who is definitely being shipped off to Wales

"She seems humbled, but we will be watching that she remains so. What is life without a little gossip?" Wow, all took was 3 minutes of 'my bad, you're actually very brave for doing things where I can see them, I won't do it again xoxo' to win over the whole ballroom and the Queen. Power of Lady Whistledown, I guess!

HAHAHAHAHA THE BUGS THAT PHILIPPA LOVED SO MUCH BEING BUTTERFLIES. I WAS KIND OF HOPING THEY WERE SPIDERS (EVEN THOUGH THEYR'E ARACHNIDS) FOR THE COMEDY, BUT THIS IS MUCH CUTER

"You... are a genius." "I know!" Hee hee, go Featherington (or Dankworth-Finch, as it were) sisters

"There is only one person who loves the Bridgertons more than I." "You knew it was me." "I suspected. You are not the only lady of the ton who can keep a secret." YEAH AGATHA <3

"We can now tell that solicitor that money came from my writing. He will have no recourse. Time for us to do better." [Softly] "My girl." I wonder if Lady Featherington is gonna come clean and give the money back

"You have always had one voice. There is no separating you from Whistledown. And after seeing you speak today, well, I would not want to." AND it fixed her marriage. What a powerful speech

"If my only purpose in life is to love a woman as great as you, then I will be a very fulfilled man, indeed." "I love you. You are very good man, Mr. Bridgerton." I didn't buy the forgiveness because it feels super rushed, but I do buy this

"Francesca Bridgerton. Kilmartin. Kilmartin is my name now." Ggkhkgjhgkjhg why is Francesca so flustered by Michaela Stirling? Is she also gonna go down a sexuality journey?? Not the sibling I anticipated!! Also does them introducing a new character mean the story will follow Eloise and Francesca in Scotland

Also wait wait wait. IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE FRANCESCA'S (BOOK SPOILERS THAT I HAVE VAGUELY OBTAINED) OTHER LOVE INTEREST? OH MY GOD

"Only until next year. Do you think Mama would ever let me miss her Masquerade Ball?" WEE OO WEE OO I KNOW ENOUGH ABOUT THE BOOKS TO KNOW THAT THAT MEAN'S BENEDICT'S NEXT BABEYYYYYYY

You know, I kept thinking about how Penelope had lost a titled match for Colin, who is the third son, and it turns out they do get to have a little baby Lord Featherington! And she gets to pass on her family name. I love that for Penelope:

What this season lacked in pacing, it more than made up for in gusto, Bisexual Bridgertons, really powerful and satisfactory friendships, a ton of Bridgerton family interactions, and more than enough romance to keep me giggling and kicking my feet for days. Honestly, it might be my favourite season, for little to do with the main couple, everything to do with the drama and excitement and fun dialogue of it all. I do really keep enjoying this show!! Every part of Bridgerton is good after S1 LOOOOL. KEEP 'EM COMING BABY!

#ayesha liveblogs bridgerton #ayesha says things #liveblogging #long post #bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #television #spoilers for all of season 3 and some allusions to spoilers for francesca's book #i cannot BELIEVE i am having the time of my life

24 notes · View notes