#and he's mostly good to me - he's just my younger brother and was maybe trying to impress our dad who brings out the worst in us

[nimuetheseawitch]

Just realized that it's likely my fanfic gets more positive feedback than the stories my brother (who told me I couldn't tell a story for the life of me) has published professionally. Now some of that is the fucked up world of publishing, but also, fandom can be so nice. And I feel so fucking validated when even one person reads something I wrote. And we get comments! Short story anthologies may get sold in stores, but fanfic gets kudos and comments.

[pathologicalreid]

little duck | s.r.

in which Spencer is too excited about his first Halloween as a dad to remember he's supposed to be celebrating his birthday

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: jareau!reader, birthday party, halloween, dias des los muertos, roslyn talk, this IS my ffofa family but you don't need to read it to read this (just know that reader and jj have beef), mostly wholesome content, babies and having babies, the spencer reid dilf agenda! word count: 1.53k a/n: is this any good? not sure. it's definitely cute though.

Your eyes flickered around the kitchen, trying to spot a familiar mess of brown curls that you’d lost track of about an hour ago. “Hey,” You said to Penelope, putting an arm around her shoulders, “Have you seen my husband anywhere?”

The blonde shook her head, taking the opportunity to glance around the house to see if he was hiding in plain sight, “Haven’t seen him,” she shared a look with Emily, who shrugged, “Did you check outside?”

Shaking your head, you sighed while picking up some trash from the counter and setting it in the trash. “No, thanks though,” you flashed them a small smile before continuing your way around the house, he wasn’t in the office or the library either.

The house was decorated in a hybrid celebration of Spencer’s birthday and Halloween. Décor for the latter had started going up in September, but the fake spider that Spencer put in the guest bathroom still made your heart race. Balloons fluttered in the air while you strode past them, “Hey, there’s the lady of the house,” your head snapped up.

“Hi Dave,” you greeted Rossi with a hug, “How are you enjoying the party?”

He lifted his glass of punch up, “Other than the fact that I’m not sure how you got the punch to turn green, it’s a beautiful party. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Thanking him, you promised to come back and chat once you found Spencer, who was still missing. As for the punch, you were under strict orders not to tell anyone how the punch had turned green, but you knew that Spencer had used spinach as a natural food dye. Personally, you were avoiding the liquid like the plague.

Finally checking outside, the only thing you found was Matt’s older four chasing each other with glow sticks while their father watched on. Kristy was inside with Rosemary, who wasn’t quite old enough to chase her older siblings yet. You smiled at the thought that maybe next year she’d be able to join the big kids.

Henry and Michael were on the playset, the older of the two trying to impress his younger brother by crossing the monkey bars. You waved at Michael on the swing before closing the door behind you, turning around to continue your search in the house, jumping when you found someone behind you. “Oh,” you hung your head in shock, “You scared me.”

Your sister smiled at you, “Sorry, I saw you looked like you were searching for something, I wanted to see if you needed anything.”

JJ made your chest ache. Every time she offered to do something for you or surprised you with a gift, she continued to get into your good graces, but it just reminded you of your broken bond. Shaking your head, you looked around the living room, “I’m just looking for Spencer.”

Recognition flickered in her eyes, “He went upstairs with Amelia about ten minutes ago. I didn’t see him come down.”

You sighed in relief once you knew where your husband and baby were, “Thank you.” Making your way to the stairs, you turned and spoke up again, “And J, take some leftovers home! I really don’t need all of it.”

Hopefully, you could convince everyone to take at least something home. Throwing parties was a curse, there was always too much food. You made your way upstairs, checking the master bedroom before peeking your head into the nursery, finally finding Spencer.

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Mila propped up in front of him, still learning how to stand unassisted. You leaned against the door frame, watching Spencer adjust her Halloween costume as she stared at him in wonder.

It was a tradition in your family for your mom to make the costume for Halloween, at least the first one, and Spencer was more than willing to adopt any tradition available to him, especially if it involved Halloween. You gave your mom free rein of the costume idea, so you shouldn’t have been surprised when she showed up before the party today with a baby duck costume in tow.

She was blowing raspberries at him while he brushed some feathers out of her face, “We’ll have to trim some of those, honey,” he spoke to her gently. He had refrained from putting the hood over her head, either because he didn’t want to ruin the tiny ponytail she had sticking up from her head or because he didn’t want her to get too warm, but she seemed more than content to be dressed in the bright yellow outfit.

You were thankful that she’d be comfortable in the costume because the rest of the week would be jam-packed. Tomorrow night was the FBI trunk or treat, then a Halloween party at Rossi’s, then actual Halloween, and then a Dia De Los Muertos party at Penelope’s to round off the week.

Honestly, you weren’t sure who was going to be more exhausted by the end of the week, you or Mila.

Eventually, you caught the gaze of your eight-month-old, who reached out and made grabby hands at you, exposing your location to Spencer, who turned his head to look at you, “Hey,” he said, still holding her upright even though his eyes weren’t on her.

“Hi,” you greeted back, unable to take your eyes off of the baby. More specifically, you were unable to take your eyes off of her costume.

You took a seat on the floor across from Spencer, who helped Mila off of her feet so that she could crawl to you, “Go see mama,” he urged her gently, watching as her tiny arms and legs carried her across the floor.

Once she reached you, she pushed herself up on your leg until you scooped her up, settling her in your lap and raising your eyebrows at him, “You know there’s a party going on downstairs.”

“I had noticed that, yes,” he answered, neatly folding the hood of Amelia’s costume and setting it in a pile.

Adjusting the bow on top of her head, you craned your head down and kissed the side of her head—she gurgled in response. “Did you know that they’re all here for you?”

Spencer smiled slightly, “I knew that too.”

Mila continued to babble while you looked at your husband curiously, “And yet,” you started, “You’re up here, putting her Halloween costume on while you should be at your birthday party.”

“I just wanted to see her in it,” he confessed, eyes flickering down at his daughter in her baby duck costume.

You had to admit, she was heart-achingly cute in the handmade costume. You were so happy when your mom brought up making the costume, not wanting to ask right out for it.

From the day she was born, Amelia was surrounded by family, you and Spencer made sure of it. She was cuddled up in the hospital with a blanket that Penelope crocheted. Even her nickname—Mila—had been granted to her by Derek’s daughter, who couldn’t quite swing the three-syllable name at the time.

There was a pit in your chest that was brought upon you by the symbolism of the costume, you often wondered what life would be like if your eldest sister was still around. You wondered what she’d think of your baby’s middle name—Rose—and if she’d think it was cool. “Hey, Spence?” You whispered, carefully standing up with Amelia in tow.

“Yes, my love?” He responded, following your lead and getting up off the floor, taking the baby from you, and changing her into pajamas.

You hummed behind him, taking the discarded costume and folding it up, placing it on top of the dresser until you needed it tomorrow. “Happy birthday,” you told him for the nth time today.

He smiled at you, resting Mila on his hip before he turned back to you, “Thank you.” Spencer leaned over and kissed you, the action receiving a coo from your daughter.

Laughing softly, you cupped her head tenderly, “It was a pretty good year, huh?”

Spencer pulled you into his side, you being held in one arm, and Mila in the other. “Yeah,” he murmured, “This one was definitely a favorite.”

Becoming a parent with Spencer was a dream come true, there was nothing you could think of that would top this year. Tilting your head back, you looked up at him, “So, what are you going to wish for this year?”

His gaze flittered down to the baby on his hip.

You shook your head immediately, “Pick something else,” you said, giggling at his silent suggestion. To you, it felt much too soon to think about another baby, and you knew Spencer was mostly joking. The two of you had previously decided on waiting.

Spencer sighed in response, looking between you and Mila, “More of this,” he answered, “The three of us, together.”

Raising your eyebrows, “Avoiding a party together.”

“As a family should,” he affirmed, beaming at you.

You were smiling so much that your cheeks ached, and you nodded your head in the direction of the door, “C’mon, there’s a cake downstairs with your name on it. Literally.”  

[zolass]

ㅤㅤ𝗧𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘀

ㅤ···─TEACHING MANNERS with AJAX ILLAD

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCharacter by @yanderefarm

Summary: A lot of parents complained to you, about the way a certain Illad, dresses to pick up his youngest brother. So there seems to be no way around, but try to.. talk some sense into the other male. wc: 1.8k

tags: smut, top m reader, bttm ajax, semi-public, +

Note: This idea is mostly from this little thing, I had the 'au' already written down and thanks to the dear owner of the character, I now have an idea on how to write this a bit better.

Still there's probably a high chance it sucks, but oh well I hope you guys enjoy <3

Never did Ajax think this would work. The first day he laid his eyes on you, he was smitten away, how can he not? You always made his younger brother ramble about how nice and cool you are, how you were his and others favorite teacher. 

Of course it is something that Ajax also noticed, at the beginning where he picked up his younger brother, you smiled at him and the way you held small talk with him, made his heart beat quicken.

Something about you was just simply so charming to him.

At first he wasn’t really happy, having to go back to school, even though he loved his youngest brother, he definitely would let someone else pick him up. But since he saw you, he couldn’t help but to simply pick his brother up with the driver. Over time he started to dress more– risky. 

From tailored suits, to cropped shirts that showed his abs, and low sitting pants showing his v line dipping into his pants. But there were people coming up to you, to complain about a certain male, about the way he started to dress, seeing it as improper. 

Mostly though it was women with.. Other stuff in mind thinking they could get something from you, maybe a phone number, to ‘complain’. Yet the number of Ajax was never even in the information, only the numbers of the parents.

But you still had to talk to the other, as you put all of your papers together and waved the kids goodbye. It was finally the weekend right in front of you. Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door, and as you looked over you saw Ajax. His shirt was cropped, like the last few times. But this time his slacks were rather nice fitting dress pants.

“My brother told me, you wanted to speak to me?” Ajax said, before he casually walked over to your desk, leaned against it. Your eyes were trained on him, as you gave him a small smile, “Yes.. there have been a few.. Complaints about the way you come to school, to pick your brother up, Mr Illad,” you told him, while you put the papers in a folder. Ajax’s eyes were glued to your figure, as a small smirk played on his lips, “Calling me Mr. Illad seems rather strange no? I mean we are both rather close age wise– call me Ajax,” he said.

Surprised you looked at the other, before closing the folder and putting it into your bag. “I’m sorry  Mr–” there was a slight squint of Ajax eyes,”Ajax, but I only asked you to come here because of the..” you trailed off as you noticed Ajax leaning closer to you, “What can I call you? I don’t mind calling you mine,” Ajax winked at you.

Your mouth dropped open in surprise, “I– ehh M/n– but that’s not the importance–” you were interrupted, “Nice to finally know your name, handsome,” Ajax said. He took another step closer, “You look really, and I mean really good in these clothes,” Ajax eyes were basically like two pools of lust.

Ajax was attractive, you couldn’t deny that. So when he leaned closer, you couldn't help but pull him closer until you captured his lips with your own. The kiss was led by desire but had the passionate edge to it. Your hands were firmly on his rather slutty waist, kneading the soft flesh with your hands.

The kiss went on for a while, before you pulled back. Both of your lips were swollen red, “Let me close the door,” you breathed out before quickly walking over and closing the door. Your hand pushed your hair slightly back, the tent in your slacks was rather obvious what’s coming next.

As you walked back to Ajax, you couldn’t help it but let your eyes wander over his body. Swallowing hard you couldn’t help but to fuck that teasing smirk off his lips, you sat down on your chair with your legs spread enough for a person between them. You teasingly tapped your hand on your thigh, “Why don’t you get to work, Ajax– maybe I can teach you some manners.”

He couldn’t help but stare at your bulge, before he nodded and quickly kneeled between your thighs. Licking his lips, Ajax started to rub his thumb over your cock, while he opened your pants with the other one as best as he could. But as he struggled you helped get your pants off with a chuckle, “You soon learn how to do it,” you said. 

Ajax’s cheeks were tinted pink at your words, but the way his own hard dick strained against his tight dress pants. Pulling your underwear down, Ajax couldn’t help the small gasp escaping his lips, as he watched with slightly widened eyes how your cock sprang free. Your girth was definitely nice, but what was catching his eyes more was your length that basically balanced your girth out. 

Not wasting anymore time he can have with you, Ajax quickly got to work. His lips wrapped around your tip, as he glanced up at you through his lashes after a small groan leaving your throat. You noticed him looking at you, you placed your hand on his head, but not pushing him down. He pushed his head down, getting more of your cock into his mouth, god you were basically the perfect match for him and definitely his mouth. 

Hopefully you were even better for his ass.

Ajax licked over the veins, making you groan a bit louder. He bobbed his head, happy that he finally reached half his goal. Suddenly you pushed his head down, until his nose was pressed against your groin and your entire length was buried deep into his throat. A moan rippled through Ajax’s throat as his eyes rolled back, yet he quickly knew what you wanted so he quickly got back to sucking you off, while you slightly thrusted up into his warm and wet mouth.

He couldn’t help it but just wanting you to fuck him, so he picked up the pace, hoping for you to cum right down his throat. Ajax could feel the way your dick twitched in his throat, and your hands grabbing onto his hair only to push his head down, he couldn’t help but moan as your cum spurted down his throat. 

Slowly he pulled his head back, not without licking over the veins on your cock. A small groan left you, as your tip popped out and Ajax gave it a teasing kiss. You let out a sigh, as you watched Ajax stand up. His own bulge is obvious now to you as well. 

You watched as Ajax turned around and swayed his hips from side to side. Biting your lip, as you stood up you were right behind him, your hands were placed on his waist, as Ajax grinded his clothed ass against your exposed cock. With a swift movement, you pushed the other's chest down onto the desk, showing two perfect round cheeks in front of you.

Making quick process, you quickly opened up the buttons to Ajax’s pants before pulling them down enough for them and his underwear to fall and pool around his ankles themselve. You held your cock in your hand, as you teased his hole with the tip, doing slow circles, smearing your precum around it. Whines left Ajax as he pushed his hips back, hoping for you to finally thrust into him. 

“Please~ just fuck me already,” Ajax begged you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Someone seems eager,” you teased as your eyes were focused on his expression that was turned to you.

Biting your lip you couldn’t help but smack Ajax round ass, letting a moan break free from his throat. Ajax hated but loved the way you treated him, his dick leaking precum on the floor, “Please just put it in– I’m already prepped, just, fuck me,” he begged you again. You watched him for a little longer until you pushed your tip in, a groan left you while a loud moan left Ajax.

You placed both hands on his hips, before you slammed your entire length into Ajax’s hole making a scream escape his mouth, as his eyes rolled back. The heat of your dick and the twitching made butterflies erupt in his stomach, where a small bulge formed. As you thrusted roughly into Ajax, you leaned down on his back.

Placing a kiss on his shoulder,”Taking me so well, baby,” you groaned into his ear. His hole tightened at your words, making you curse out a whispered fuck, before you picked up the pace. The sound of your skin hitting his turned both of you on even more.

Your hands were gripping Ajax’s waist, as your thrusts grew sloppy. Ajax felt the abuse on his prostate turn rather sloppy, so he knew you were about to cum. He couldn’t help himself but moan at the thought of you pumping your cum into him, “cum in me– ngh fuc– ple-see–” Ajax begged through the moans. The to well known feeling built up in his groin, “cum-ing,” Ajax moaned out, before his eyes rolled back as he came. His big useless cock dirtying the desk with his cum, as he felt your tip push against his prostate one more time before a moan rippled from your throat.

With one last rough thrust you pushed your entire length into Ajax as you came, the belly bulge getting bigger while Ajax caressed the spot with a sigh and imaginary hearts in his eyes. 

You basically stuck to Ajax even as your cock went soft inside of Ajax, but you couldn’t help but hold him in your arms. You kissed his shoulder, as you still held onto his hips. “You did well, pretty boy,” you said, slightly out of breath.

Ajax chuckled as a blush formed on his cheeks, “Thanks– you did fuck me pretty good too–” Ajax said, awkwardly even though he meant it. You did fuck him really well, his fingers trailed around the bulge, biting his lip Ajax couldn’t help but look back at you.

“Can I take you out on a date?” he suddenly asked you, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Sure– I mean yea-” you leaned your head against his neck. “You should wear suits more often– I still remember the times you had it on– you look really good with them,” you suddenly said.

Ajax seemed surprised at that, “Thank you,” there was another silence. “Do you think I’m pregnant with your kids?” Ajax suddenly spewed out, and you couldn’t help but look dumbfounded at him before you chuckled, “Ajax, I don’t think that’s how it works,” you said and a pout formed on his lips, “Sadly, but a man can have dreams–” he retorted. 

You couldn’t help but simply kiss his cheek, “Then when is the date?” you ask him. “How about we start– after we make it out of here– and we do another round in my car, how about that?” Ajax asked, with a teasing look over his shoulder. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, “sure.”

[rene-spade]

Ok but how are the crazy f1 dads with their daughters dating? Who on the grid do they like?

oof this is a loaded ask bc they really are all out of it 😭 they just love their babies fr

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! kimi | growing up räikkönen!

FIRST OF ALL kimi doesn’t really vibe with most people in general, let alone anyone who’s trying to get with his little lumienkeli. kimi was lucky to raise a little girl similar to him, who listens when he places a no dating rule lasting until she’s 21 (as far as he knows anyways). despises the guys on the grid trying to get with her; he was one of them once so he thinks of them as animals, especially leclerc who’s known for his brow-raising dating life. also hates pierre but he already didn’t fw him bc he’s french. he is SLIGHTLY more easy going with women around his daughter so any grid guys with girlfriends might have an advantage. he finds that he wants the im-a-dog-and-ill-do-whatever-my-girl-says type for his daughter, but he dislikes unintelligence. he does not like anyone on the grid, but he best tolerates:

mick schumacher!

oscar piastri (+lily)

he vibes with kika okay but hates pierre 💀

bonus! he actually really likes max but his hate/distrust for jos overpowers that so he’s not letting that happen

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jenson | growing up button!

OK SO JENSON is a bit less intense than kimi, however he is much more publicly affectionate with his daughter which means that he has definitely gone on public rants about how no man is good wen enough for his baby. that being said, he is a decent judge of character so he doesn’t hate anyone on the grid. but he gets real serious when he notices people hitting on his baby. this is mostly bc he was def a whore when he was younger so he isn’t quick to trust guys who are living the same lifestyle he was. he kind of turns on dad-mode when he notices anyone eyeing her up. but alas, he raised his own mini-me, who attracts just about everyone, and who likes to flirt back. it takes warming up to, but he can see himself fine with most of the drivers. he most prefers people who are friendly and who didn’t act like him when he was in f1 like:

george russel

daniel ricciardo

lando norris

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! fernando | growing up alonso!

NANDO IS DEFINITELY one of those guys who thinks he’s a “cool dad” bc he’s a young father and his daughter is his best friend. but in reality he’s one of those intense, fiercely overprotective dads who have impossibly high expectations for his daughters partner. 100% the type to punch a mechanic for saying gross things about his princesa. he’ll be calm and in a good mood then someone on the grid (or any man ever) mentions his daughter and he’s like 😐. UNLESS! it’s carlos. carlos is the only one who meets his standards, sorry to literally everyone else. but even with carlos, he can be a little stern just to get his point across about not messing with his only child. he just feels the need to personally approve of his daughter’s partner bc he’s hyper-paranoid about someone hurting her. his list looks something like:

carlos sainz!!!

that’s it

i mean if you put a gun to his head maybe max bc he’s a winner but he needs to learn to speak spanish so-

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jos | growing up verstappen! unfortunately

FUCK JOS VERSTAPPEN obviously, however this man is one crazy dad who we have to discuss. his love for his youngest daughter is wild and unpredictable, and it’s very different from the way he treats his other children. his baby has some extreme one-sided beef with him that he’s smart enough to know about, so he isn’t too forceful about bonding, it’s definitely more desperate since max found success in f1 and she sticks with her big brother now. her entire life, he’s never allowed her to date, and when he found out about her first secret bf, he got arrested for trying to kill the kid so. he has IMPOSSIBLY high standards for his daughters partner and definitely wants her to marry within the f1 community, but he hates losers and despises half the grid.

suddenly he’s charles leclerc’s biggest fan !

lewis hamilton but he’ll never admit it

MAYBE carlos sainz

bonus! max obvi likes daniel ricciardo best but jos doesn’t fw him like that

♤ ♤ ♤

Ren

[suuuupernovaaa]

kame

kame [ˈk·a.m·ɛ] vtr. see, see into, understand, know (spiritual sense)

Anonymous Request: Could we have something where Metkayina Reader is the chief's daughter, becomes good friends with Neteyam, and is in love with him but doesn't think he finds Metkayina women attractive because he doesn't seem interested in any of the girls, so she asks Lo'ak if he thinks she's pretty because he's also her friend but Neteyam overhears and gets upsets cause he misunderstands why she's asking? Pretty pretty please with a sweet sappy ending.

Feeling insecure about your crush on Neteyam, you ask his younger brother if he thinks Metkayina woman are attractive. Neteyam overhears and misunderstands.

1,978 words

Lo'ak and I had been sitting quietly on the beach for quite a while, watching the children play nearby as the clouds rolled in, promising rain.

As if reading my mind, Lo'ak pointed up. "Looks like rain."

I nodded. Talk of weather was nice, but what I really wanted to talk about was Lo'ak's older brother.

In the months since they'd arrived, I was unable to get Neteyam off of my mind - but I couldn't read him for the life of me. He was reserved, the oldest Sully brother, not like Lo'ak. Lo'ak wore his heart on his sleeve, lucky for my sister, who was equally enamored with the younger Sully brother.

Neteyam did not seem interested in any of the Metkayina women, and I wondered if our physical differences were unappealing to him. Was my hair too coarse, my tail too wide, my eyes too large?

It wasn't that Neteyam wasn't nice to me, I would even have considered us friends, but the possibility of more than that just didn't seem to be there.

"Lo'ak, do you find me attractive?" I asked finally.

Lo'ak turned to me sharply. "What?"

"I mean, Metkayina women. Do you think they're as pretty as your forest women? Your mother is breathtaking."

He wrinkled his nose at the statement, and then smiled.

"Yes. I think you're attractive," he replied. His reassurance should have comforted me, but it only made me more confused. If Lo'ak could find me attractive, why couldn't his brother?

"Not as attractive as my sister, though, yes?" I leaned over, a teasing smile on my face, bumping my shoulder into his.

Lo'ak sighed, the sound of a man in love. "No one is as beautiful as her."

What I wouldn't give to have Neteyam feel that way about me.

--

"Yes, I think you're attractive," Neteyam's brother said to Y/N, the woman he had been pining after for months.

Neteyam was approaching the two, planning to join them on the beach, but the snippet of their conversation he'd caught was enough to make him turn on his heels and stalk back to his mauri pod.

He felt betrayed by Lo'ak, even though he hadn't said so much as a whisper of his feelings for Y/N - mostly he felt mad for Y/N's younger sister, whom he'd thought his brother was growing close to.

Was Lo'ak to betray her? Was her own sister to betray her? Maybe Y/N was not the woman he thought she was, after all.

--

It began raining soon, and Lo'ak and I stood to leave the beach.

"I gotta ask," Lo'ak said as we walked back towards our respective homes. "Why the question - uh, about you being pretty?"

A blush heated my cheeks.

"It's Neteyam, isn't it?" he said, trying not to smile too wide. "You like Neteyam?"

I shrugged. "He doesn't seem interested, in any of the women here. I thought maybe he found us unappealing."

Lo'ak shook his head. "He's just shy. Give him time."

I wasn't so sure. We parted ways with a friendly goodbye, and I returned to my family for the evening with much to think about.

--

The next morning, the clouds had cleared and the day was beautiful. I set out early with Tsireya at my mother's request - she was wary of Lo'ak, and wanted Tsireya supervised at all times.

"I think Lo'ak is a nice young man," I told her as we waded into the water. "We had a nice talk last night."

She smiled, ear to ear, her beautiful smile. I had always wished I had Tsireya's sunny disposition and kind heart - she was a joy to everyone who knew her.

"What did you talk about?"

I looked away, blushing a little. "Neteyam."

She gasped, reaching out to grab my arm. "You like Lo'ak's brother?" She giggled with excitement.

"I asked Lo'ak if the women here were appealing to him. Of course, I know you are beautiful to Lo'ak, but I wondered if Neteyam maybe... thought I was ugly."

Tsireya gasped. "Y/N, you must never speak like that again. You are exceedingly beautiful, as well as smart, skilled, our fastest swimmer-"

I cut her off before she could continue on. "Sister, please."

"Well, it's true!" she replied forcefully. "If Neteyam does not like you, he's a moron."

We giggled together. Talking with my sister always made me feel better, no matter the issue.

--

Later that day, I happened upon Neteyam alone - as I had been looking for him nearly all day. Tsireya had given me the confidence I needed to try and really talk to him.

"Neteyam!" I called when I found him, swimming just off shore as I stood on the beach.

He raised one hand and waved to me, and began his approach. I stood waiting, fidgeting nervously with my hands as he came towards me at what felt like a snail's pace.

He shook his hair when he exited the water, and as usual, I was overcome with his beauty.

"Hello," Neteyam nodded, somewhat formally.

"I need to talk to you," I said quickly.

He cocked his head to the side. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just... need to tell you something, and I have the courage to tell you now, but I probably won't later."

Neteyam shook his head. "I already know."

I took a step back in surprise. "You do?"

Did Lo'ak tell him? He wouldn't do that to me - he was my friend.

"I do. I have to say, Y/N, I thought better of you."

That was... not the response I was expecting. In fact, it didn't make sense at all. Me having feelings for him made him think less of me?

"Neteyam, I... what?"

"I thought you cared for your sister, and you know how she feels about Lo'ak." He was angry, his teeth gritted, his eyes narrowed. He was angry at me.

"Neteyam, what are you talking about?"

He scoffed. "I heard you at Lo'ak last night, him telling you how beautiful you are. How could the two of you do that to Tsireya?"

I had never seen Neteyam so angry, certainly not at me. He had heard a part of our conversation last night and assumed the absolutely worst - that I would betray my most beloved sister.

Tears filled my eyes. "I can't believe you would think this of me." Before I could embarrass myself any further, I turned and ran back home to cry in my father's arms.

--

He had expected to feel better after confronting Y/N, but she hadn't reacted the way Neteyam expected. Instead of feeling self-righteous, Neteyam felt confused and guilty as he returned home.

He sat silently at dinner, and though his family asked what was wrong, he shrugged them off.

He couldn't quite explain it.

"I can't believe you would think this of me."

What did she mean by that? He had heard her and Lo'ak's conversation with his own ears.

Speaking of, just as the sun was setting less than an hour later, Lo'ak entered the tent - and he was angry.

"Neteyam, you fucking idiot!" he yelled, in front of the entire family.

"Whoa, whoa!" Jake stood up in an instant, followed by Neteyam, and placed himself between the boys to avoid escalation.

"You... you fucking idiot!" Lo'ak yelled again.

"Mad that I caught you?" Neteyam asked, spitting out the words like daggers.

"You know nothing! You broke her heart, do you know that?" Lo'ak yelled.

"Stop this, now!" their mother demanded. "Explain." She turned to Neteyam first.

"Everyone knows that Tsireya is in love with Lo'ak, but last night on the beach, he was telling her sister how beautiful she is. I heard it with my own years!"

Neteyri's eyes widened in shock, and she turned to her younger son.

"Lo'ak, is this true?"

"No!" Lo'ak shouted. "Well, yes, but that's not what happened."

"Lower your voice, and explain," Neytiri said calmly.

"She asked because she thought this idiot," he gestured to Neteyam, "didn't think Metkayina women were beautiful. She wasn't asking if I thought she was attractive - she was asking if we could find her, all the women here, as beautiful as the women from back home. Because she likes you, you idiot!"

"Stop calling your brother names," Jake demanded, stepping from in-between his sons, but that was where his advice ended - this seemed like a conversation for their mother.

"He went and accused her of betraying her sister, and she's been crying all night. Tsireya came to tell me, because you need to fix it."

Lo'ak's words were like a knife in Neteyam's chest. He could picture Y/N's face on the beach, how crushed she had been, and he had never felt more guilty or regretful in his life.

He couldn't believe the things he'd believed about her, and said directly to her. He put his face in his hands and sighed.

"Shit," he whispered.

"You must go apologize, now. She is the chief's daughter. You go make peace," his mother insisted, grabbing his arm. "Come. We go now."

"Mom!" Neteyam said, but there was no getting around it - his mother was going to march him over to apologize to the woman he loved.

--

After my embarrassing display of emotion early - which was very out of character for me - my father would not let me further than a foot away from him. We sat, eating together, with his arm around my shoulders.

Every so often he would mutter something like, "Idiot boy," or "hideous moron" and I had to admit, it helped.

He finally let me go to clean up after dinner, and Tsireya gave my arm a squeeze as she joined to help.

"I am sorry for the intrusion," someone said at the entrance to our mauri, and we all turned to look. Standing there was Neteyam, his mother holding his arm. "My son owes your daughter an apology."

"Oh no," I whispered under my breath, meeting eyes with Tsireya.

My parents locked eyes with each other. I could tell they both wanted to rip poor Neteyam's throat out, but after a moment, they nodded with each other.

"Hear the boy out," my mother said, bending down to grab my arm. "You will return soon."

"Yes, mother," I nodded, and followed Neteyam and his mother out of the tent.

Neytiri followed us down to the beach, but then broke away, leaving us completely alone in the moonlight.

We stood, staring out at the water for a long, awkward moment.

Finally, Neteyam spoke.

"Never in my life have I been such a fool, or hurt someone I care about so deeply. I was overtaken by jealousy when I heard you and my brother talking, and I assumed the worst. I know you may not be able to forgive me, but I will never stop being sorry."

Tears filled my eyes again, but I couldn't form a reply.

"You should know that I think you are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. I have been mesmerized by you since the moment we arrived. You are all I think about, day and night. My biggest regret is that I did not tell you that, every single day. If I had, we would have avoided all this. I see you, Y/N. I see you."

Neteyam reached up, brushing a tear from my cheek, and I leaned my face into his palm.

He took a sharp breath in.

"I see you, and I forgive you, Neteyam," I said finally. Continuing to be angry at Neteyam, now that I knew how he felt, seemed like an impossible task. "And I would kiss you now, but I think both our mothers are watching."

A smile spread across his lips, and he bent down to hover his lips just above mine. "I do not care."

[caffedrine]

Chevalier Michel - My Fiancé Has Become Child - Event Summary

This is mostly a summary for me - I make no promises on the accuracy of what’s happening. I’m not nearly fluent enough to get half the jokes/innuendo much less accurate plot points.

Chevalier stares at Emma, who stares back at him, tears gathering in her eyes. Well, at least this explains why he hasn’t seen her since this morning.

A moment before, when Chevalier had entered the library, he saw a child sitting at the bottom of the ladder. Though she now looks significantly younger, it’s obvious to anyone that it’s Emma. 

The moment he stepped towards her, the dam breaks, and Little!Emma’s face goes pale, and she bursts into full fledge crying. 

This would happen when Chevalier’s brothers encountered him as children, so he’s not even bothered by this reaction. 

There are a lot of questions he would like to ask Little!Emma, but expecting her to talk to him is unrealistic, especially while she’s crying. Instead, Chevalier strides over to her, lifts her up by her armpits so she can stand, and brushes down her clothes, checking for injuries. Good, it looks like she wasn’t crying because she was hurt, she was only terrified of him. And her shock at him touching her has even stopped her crying.

He surmises that Little!Emma must have climbed the nearby ladder to reach a book she was interested in, and then slipped and fell, thankfully without getting hurt. Chevalier takes the book and hands it to her. Little!Emma accepts the book, holding it as if she were trying to hide behind it while she runs and ducks behind a table. 

She calls out to Chevalier, asking how he knew she wanted this book, and wondering if he was some kind of wizard. 

Chevalier snorts and turns to leave, calling back to her to ask the man with the long hair tied back into a ponytail if she needs anything. She’s permitted to go wherever she likes as long as it’s in the castle and the gardens. 

As he leaves, Lucien appears out of the shadows. Chevalier orders him to watch over the kid in the library, and let him know if he sees anything strange. Lucien tells him that he’s already seeing something strange right now.

Chevalier leaves, musing that his presence will only frighten Little!Emma. 

As he walks down the hallway to his office, Leon stops him. Is Chevalier aware that there’s this little girl following him? Chevalier asks if there’s a point to this nonsensical chat. Leon advises him to be nicer to kids, and also maybe the people who work at the castle too. It would help his reputation. 

Chevalier gives Leon a cold stare and continues down towards his office.

Once inside, while he’s working on some documents, Nokto approaches him and asks if he’s aware of the small child staring at him from the doorway for the past hour. Nokto thinks she’s waiting for an opportunity to talk to him and asks if he will invite her inside. Chevalier says that if she wanted to talk to him, she could just come inside.

Nokto disagrees, Chevalier needs to meet the kid halfway. 

Fine, since this is bothering Nokto so much, Chevalier will handle it. He stands up, walks over to the doorway, and shuts the door in Little!Emma’s face. 

Err, that’s not what Nokto was getting at. He does wonder what the kid wants with Chevalier. This question gets Chevalier thinking - since it’s some regressed version of Emma, it’s probably something trivial. 

Still, there might be a way to, as Nokto put it, meet Little!Emma half way without forcing her to interact with him.

Once he finished his official duties, Chevalier retired to the palace gardens to read a book, making himself seem as approachable as he possibly could. Eventually, Little!Emma crawls out from underneath a rose bush. 

She jumps a little when Chevalier glances at her, and he wonders why she’s following him around if she still reacts like that when their eyes meet. Well, to give her credit, Little!Emma is the first child who hasn’t run away from him when given the opportunity. He watches her grip the hem of her skirt with white-knuckled hands as she steels herself. 

Little!Emma blurts out a greeting, introducing herself. She asks ‘big brother’ Chevalier if she can talk to him. Chevalier grunts in assent. Little!Emma asks if she can come next to him, and again Chevalier makes an assenting noise. 

Little!Emma is all smiles and runs over to him, clambering into the chair next to him. Maybe it was because Chevalier had given his permission, but suddenly Little!Emma didn’t look at all like the terrified child she had been a moment ago. Then again, it didn’t take long for her to get over her fear when they first met either. 

Little!Emma explains that there’s something she has wanted to say to Chevalier all day. She formally thanks him for helping her when she fell and giving her the book she wanted. She apologizes for crying and hurting him when he was just helping her. 

Chevalier tells her that if she thinks she hurt him, her eyes must be going bad. So don’t worry about him. He muses that this Emma, who doesn’t remember him at all, still came to him on her own. If, for some incomprehensible reason he had felt hurt over her earlier rejection of him, everything was forgiven. 

Little!Emma’s shoulders relaxed in relief, but her expression showed that there was something else she wanted to say. Chevalier prompts her, and Little!Emma is amazed at his deductive prowess. She hasn’t ruled out that he’s some mind-reading wizard yet. 

Little!Emma explains that she suddenly found herself in this castle, but she has no idea how or why she’s here. She asks if she can stay with Chevalier until she figures this mystery out. 

Chevalier thinks that she’s the only one in the world who would want to stay with someone who terrifies her. He tells her to do whatever she wants. Little!Emma cheers at this, thanking him. 

Chevalier decides that he no longer wants to waste his time in the garden and stands up. Little!Emma jumps down to the chair, asking where they’re going. Is he going back to work, or- 

Suddenly, Little!Emma trips and grabs on to Chevalier’s cloak to steady herself. Due to his white clothes, the grime is immediately visible; and Little!Emma apologizes for getting him dirty.

Chevalier assures her it's fine - clothes can be washed. And she doesn’t have to rush, he won’t leave her behind. 

He decides that matching the pace of a child would be too tedious, so he lifts her up to carry her. Little!Emma is enchanted and exclaims over how high they are. She hopes that one day she will grow up to be as tall as Chevalier.

Little!Emma asks if Chevalier drinks a lot of milk to get this tall, and Chevalier has a brief flashback of Clavis and the flashy one drinking milk to get taller. 

(Good luck, kid)

He tells her it doesn't work that way.

Little!Emma asks if she’s not too heavy for Chevalier and offers to walk. Chevalier tells her it would be too troublesome if she falls again, so he’ll just continue to carry her. 

Chevalier notes how quickly Little!Emma’s interests change as she becomes fixated by the fur on his collar. She asks if she can touch it, and Chevalier tells her to do whatever she wants. Little!Emma pats it, marveling over how soft and fluffy it is. She asks if having it by him all the time makes him sleepy, and Chevalier tells her that it doesn’t. Emma asks if people come up and pet him all the time then.

(Achievement: You have unlocked Chevalier’s newest nightmare!)

Chevalier thinks that only Emma is brave enough to touch him. 

Little!Emma is distracted once again and asks Chevalier where they are going. If Chevalier has to work, maybe it’s too much to take her along. 

Chevalier tells her that as a child, she shouldn’t worry about adults like this. She can just stay with him until she feels better. Instead, she should think about what she wants to do and where she wants to go.

In that case, could she spend some more time with Chevalier? She grabs onto him, burying her face into the fur at Chevalier’s collar, almost like a hug. Little!Emma explains that there are so many things she wants to do with him.

Later

Yves, Licht, and Jin stare at the pair in the practice yard. Jin asks if this is some hallucination - is he really seeing Chevalier and a little girl wailing at each other with practice swords? He asks Licht to hit him, and Licht kindly obliges.

Okay, maybe this isn’t a dream.

Yves wonders if the girl is some distant member of the Michel family, but Jin points out that doesn’t clear anything up. 

They hear the girl ask ‘big brother’ Chevalier to let her try a move again, and Jin slowly repeats ‘big brother Chevalier’. Does he suddenly have something to tease Chevalier about?

Licht’s impressed, he never knew Jin was such a daredevil. 

On the training ground, Chevalier can hear everything the trio is saying. Everyone seems as noisy as ever, openly staring at him and Little!Emma.

If Little!Emma even noticed them, she paid them no heed and instead focused on trying to get a hit on him with her sword. 

This was the first thing Little!Emma had wanted to do. She had recounted a book where a warrior princess had beat up all the bad guys to save her kingdom, even defeating the demon king. 

(Hey!)

Wanting to emulate the very cool warrior princess, Emma asked Chevalier to train her to become a knight.

(Okay, maybe his brothers had a reason to cry when he smiled like that)

Which leads them to now, with Chevalier blocking Little!Emma’s strike, whirling his sword and disarming her. He tells her that it’s time for a break and Little!Emma agrees. Showing absolutely no signs of fatigue, she rushes over to him and asks how she did.

Very amateurish, her swings are too wide, and she needs more strength behind them. Her feet stagger every time she raises her sword, and her grip on the hilt loosens even on his lightest parries. 

Little!Emma complains that he’s stingy with praise, so Chevalier adds on that he appreciates that she is willing to try to improve when her (many) faults are pointed out. 

Little!Emma cheers rare praise from Chevalier. She promises to get stronger and save Chevalier whenever he needs rescuing.

What? Since when has Chevalier come off as someone who needs rescuing?

He thinks about Emma - Adult!Emma - and her work with public service. She had been concerned about saving and protecting people, maybe this is just a childish thought of how to fulfill that need. 

The next thing Little!Emma wanted to do with him was something she enjoyed as an adult. 

As they sit drinking tea, Little!Emma looks around at the gardeners and servants watching them at a distance. Chevalier asks if she’s worried about what the others are thinking, but Little!Emma focuses again on him, denying it.

Little!Emma changes the subject, marveling over the pastries the maids had brought them. The sugar crystals sparkle like jewels, entrancing her. This is the first time she’s been at a tea party like this and is excited. Very generously, Little!Emma offers to let Chevalier choose the first pastry to eat.

Chevalier tells her to go ahead and eat first, and Little!Emma does not argue. She chooses a lemon tart, carefully cutting a piece and stabbing it with her fork. She then brings it up to Chevalier's face and tells him to say 'ahh'.

Well, Chevalier doesn't see a reason to refuse, so he obediently opens his mouth and eats the tart.

Little!Emma cheers, she chose the right sweet! Chevalier is still chewing it, so he must be savoring the flavor. Privately, Chevalier thinks that he’s only still chewing because she fed him a giant piece but lets the matter rest. He takes the fork from Little!Emma’s hand and cuts the tart into actual bite-sized pieces, then handing the plate back to her. Mistaking his intent, Little!Emma opens her mouth like a baby bird, anticipating the pastry. Unlike her adult self, who would be embarrassed, Little!Emma is anticipating him feeding her.

Little!Emma chews and swallows the bite, wiping some of it off of her cheek and marveling over the taste. She proudly tells Chevalier that she knew the lemon tart would be his favorite, after all, his hair is yellow just like the tart. He must eat them all the time for his hair to get that yellow.

Little!Emma leans forward, she has a secret to tell Chevalier, but she doesn’t want anyone else (from 25 feet away) to hear. She likes Chevalier and wants him to like her too.

Yep, even as a child, Emma is a bit stupid.

The third thing Little!Emma wants to do is not at all unexpected. Walking next to him, she announces that she wants to dance like a princess in a big dance hall. To demonstrate her dancing prowess, she lets go of his hand to jump forward and with surprising grace, pirouettes in front of him. She asks if he’ll pretend to be a prince and dance with her.

Chevalier asks if there was something about his reply that makes her doubt his word. Little!Emma assures him that it’s not that, it’s just that this feels like a dream come true so she wants to hear it again and again. And again.

Little!Emma reaches out to grab him and pull him with her. Chevalier chides her to hold his hand, not his cloak, and to stop rushing. Little!Emma laughs and tells him that the cloak was fluttering cutely. Oh, if they play hide and seek with someone, she wants to hide underneath it. It’s so long, she would be completely hidden. Chevalier points out that anyone looking would see her feet, and Little!Emma deflates at her perfect hiding place not being so perfect after all.

Privately, Chevalier thinks that anyone daring to play hide and seek with them would pretend not to notice her hiding place. He holds out his hand, and without hesitation, Little!Emma reaches out to grab it.

On their way to the dance hall, they pass by many servants and aristocrats. Everyone they pass looks from him to Little!Emma and back, as if they can’t believe it. It’s beginning to irritate Chevalier, but Little!Emma doesn’t seem to notice or mind. Or maybe not. Next to him, Little!Emma begins to skip happily, loudly chattering about how excited she is to dance with Chevalier. It’s a poor coverup, but it’s also sweet. He wonders if he should tease her about it now, or wait until they get her back to her adult self.

They find Clavis standing majestically in the center of the ballroom, wearing a strange smile. He asks if Chevalier doesn’t agree that he is at least a hundred times more suited to taking care of children. Little!Emma was alarmed at the appearance of this strange man and let go of Chevalier’s hand to hide under his cloak.

Chevalier thinks that Nokto must have sent word to Clavis, who hurried back from his inspection.

Clavis approaches them and kneels in front of Little!Emma, reaching into a pocket to proffer a box the size of the palm of his hand. Curiously, Little!Emma pokes her head out from Chevalier’s cloak to ask about it, and Clavis urges her to poke it gently. Little!Emma does and marvels over the toy bunny that pops out. Clavis asks if she likes his jack-in-the-box and Little!Emma assures him she does. Smiling, she emerges completely from Chevalier’s cloak, looking interestedly at Clavis. She asks his name, introducing herself.

This catches Clavis off guard, and rather than explain, Chevalier assures Clavis that it’s just a coincidence this child and his fiancé have the same name.

Clavis quickly recovers and introduces himself, explaining that he is Chevalier’s younger brother. Little!Emma has trouble saying his last name and has to repeat it several times before getting it right.

Well, now that they have introduced themselves, this means they’re friends! Right?

Little!Emma is thrilled, she has a new bestest friend. She bounces, and Clavis bounces with her, holding hands.

Finally, Clavis turns back to Chevalier; he is shocked to hear that Chevalier has spent the day playing with a little girl. Even right here, with proof in front of him, he feels like he must be dreaming.

Well, that’s no longer important, it would be ungentlemanly of Clavis to keep the princess waiting any longer. Chevalier grumbles that if Clavis hadn’t shown up, Little!Emma wouldn’t have to wait to play in the first place.  

Speaking of which, Little!Emma wants to know why big brother Clavis is here.

Why, he was waiting for her, of course. Clavis respectfully offers his hand and asks Little!Emma to dance with him.

Sorrowfully, Little!Emma declines. Clavis asks why, assuring her that he’s at least a billion times better dancer than Chevalier. Little!Emma assures him that she believes him, but she still wants her first dance to be with Chevalier. Maybe next time?

Clavis gives in, if it’s what Little!Emma wants, he has no choice. He assures himself that it’s just because she met Chevalier first, and that it’s not because he himself is lacking. In fact, it’s a sign of how gentlemanly he is that he’s accepting her decision.

While Clavis’ face remains amiable, the air around him becomes heavy with disappointment. Little!Emma peers at Clavis, looking like she wanted to say something. At Clavis’ prompting, she asks if he has a problem with Chevalier.

Mentally, Chevalier praises her for picking up on the (not so) subtle signs of Clavis’ emotions.

Little!Emma shouts, she just came up with the perfect idea. The lady at the bakery told her about this a while ago. No matter how much two people fight, if they do this, then they’ll quickly become friends. Smiling, she asks Clavis to hold hands with Chevalier.

Chevalier and Clavis look at each other.

Mercilessly, Little!Emma reaches out to grab Clavis’ hand, and tries to forces his and Chevalier’s hands together. Unfortunately, a mysterious force keeps them from getting too close. Little!Emma complains that Chevalier isn’t being helpful. Clavis laughs and asks if Chevalier is too embarrassed to hold his hand. Chevalier asks if Clavis wants to hold hands.

(The thought sends shivers up Clavis’ spine)

Little!Emma frowns as if faced with a difficult problem. She allows that maybe this is as close as they’ll get. Suddenly she lights up, as if a flash of inspiration struck her. She tells them that she wants them both to be her bestest friends. Clavis assures her that he would love to be her bestest friend ever.

And Chevalier?

Clavis tells her that the big sourpuss is always like this, but he definitely wants to become best friends too. Little!Emma is happy, now instead of the two of them being bestest friends, all three of them can be bestest friends! She starts jumping with joy, all while holding hands with the two of them. Defeated, Clavis gives Little!Emma a deflated smile.

To celebrate the three of them being bestest friends ever, maybe they should all dance together! They could hold hands in a circle and everything.

Clavis throws up in his mouth.

Little!Emma is alarmed and concerned and begins fussing over Clavis. He explains that he sprained his ankle earlier that day and is just not up to dancing after all. Oh, don’t worry about him, but he just remembered the doctor telling him to rest. Maybe instead of the three of them - ugh - the three of them dancing together, maybe this time just her and Chevalier.

Little!Emma nods, she understands. She'll ask the stars to help him recover quickly. Laughing softly, Clavis praises her for being a really nice, gullible child.

Before he leaves, Clavis instructs Chevalier to be gentle with her. This is just a kid, don’t grab her roughly or step on her.

(Just wait until Jin tells him about the sword fight from earlier)

Little!Emma assures Clavis that Chevalier has been gentle with her since they first met. He picked her up, and helped brush dirt off her clothes, all while being super gentle. Anyways, they should dance right now while there’s still time.

As Little!Emma drags him with her to the center of the ballroom, Chevalier wonders if he was touching her gently, he wasn’t aware of trying to be. He considers his hands, once feared as those that belonged to a beast, now being seen as something kind. Without Emma, this version of him wouldn’t exist.

He takes simple steps to match Little!Emma’s as they silently sway side to side. At least, silently until Little!Emma asks if she’s really dancing like a princess. Chevalier assures her that she is. Emma is happy with his response, but then stumbles and nearly falls over. Chevalier scoops her up and lightly spins her around, the skirt of her dress flaring out like a flower. Little!Emma laughs in delight and exclaims over how much she loves Chevalier.

Chevalier thinks the only reason why he’s changed is because of Emma. Even now, her smile is bright enough to block out the sun. He thinks that the changes are becoming natural to him, a part of who he is.

It’s not a bad thought.

The sky grows red as Emma’s list of activities continues on. Until suddenly they end when she begins to yawn. It almost seems like a lie that she was bouncing just a few moments ago. He scoops her up and holds her to his chest, and she buries her face into his collar.

Just to think, from her perspective, he’s practically a stranger, but she is still so affectionate with him. No matter what, he never wants her to leave him.

He returns to his bedroom, laying Little!Emma down on his bed gently enough not to wake her up, and smooths her messy hair. Convinced that she’s asleep, he moves away, only to hear her rustling and feel something grab at his cloak. He turns and asks Little!Emma if she was awake this entire time.

Little!Emma shakes her head and rubs her eyes. She asks if he’s leaving, and if he is, she wants to go too. So don’t go alone.

Chevalier tells Little!Emma that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere, but she points out that he was just leaving. Chevalier tells her that he was stepping away to get changed for bed. If she’s too afraid to be alone, he’ll stay with her.

Little!Emma apologizes for interrupting him from changing and assures him that he is welcome to get ready for bed. Very dramatically she lets go of his cloak and buries her face in his bedding. Chevalier can’t help but laugh and stroke her hair before leaving to get changed.

Once he is done, Little!Emma peers up around his room, curiously. She asks about the books on the table by the chairs. With his permission, she jumps off the bed and runs over to examine them. Unfortunately, they’re too advanced for her, and asks if they’re his books.

Actually, they aren’t.

Excitedly, Emma guesses they’re Clavis’ books.

Nope.

Little!Emma looks sad, and he wonders if she is still hellbent on getting him and Clavis to bond. Suddenly her eyes land on a blanket thrown over a chair, and she asks if it’s his.

Chevalier recognizes it as the first Christmas gift he received from Emma. It’s starting to get frayed at the edges from all the use. People have asked him if he wants a new one, but nothing would replace the feelings of that moment when Emma had gifted the blanket to him.

When he nods to Little!Emma’s question, a happy look spreads over her face. It’s a very cute blanket, with lovely colors. She guessed that it was a gift; when he looked at it, his mouth smiled just a fraction. Is she right?

Well, she’s right about it being a gift, at least.

Little!Emma looks relieved. Chevalier asks if she feels better now, and Little!Emma asks how he could tell that she was anxious. She apologizes for hiding it and deceiving him.

Chevalier assures her that it wasn’t really a lie, and he noticed that she was anxious about something from the start. Little!Emma laughs, Chevalier really is some sort of wizard.

She confesses that she was anxious ever since she appeared here in the castle. But then she met the kindest person ever, who helped her and even got her book down for her. She wanted to thank him by helping him make more friends.

Chevalier nods, that’s why for their activities, she was choosing places where there were lots of people. Little!Emma nods, when playing fun games together, it’s normal for others to want to join them. But it backfired when only Clavis tried to join them.

Yeah, Little!Emma picked the wrong person to try that with.

Chevalier thinks that no one in the world could even temporarily replace Emma. He picks her up and sets her in a nearby chair. He explains that he doesn’t feel ‘loneliness’ anymore. A long time ago he had dismissed love and kindness as something unnecessary.

Little!Emma disagrees, he’s a kind person, who knows love, right? Chevalier admits that he does because he’s not really alone anymore. He now has a fiancé.

Little!Emma is excited, she wants to hear all about this fiancé. She asks him to invite her to his wedding, and Chevalier assures her that there would be no wedding without her.

Little!Emma begins to ask a million questions at once; who is the fiancé, how did they meet, what is his favorite thing about her? Did Clavis help them fall in love, or did someone else?

Chevalier covers her mouth, explaining that he needs more than a fraction of a second to answer her. When he removes his hand, Little!Emma gives him a shy smile. Still, her excitement is refreshing, and he wonders if Emma feels the same way, just is better at acting reserved.

Little!Emma crosses her arms and asks if she can ask one thing about his fiancé. She asks if he loves his fiancé enough for her to be the one person at his side forever.

He does.

Little!Emma flushes and tells him that he has such a gentle expression that it makes her heart flutter. She asks if Chevalier ever tells this to his fiancé.

He doesn’t.

Okay, Little!Emma will help him. She has the perfect line for him to use next time he sees his fiancé. He should tell her that he loves her more than all the books in his library.

(Well, that’s debatable)

Smiling, Chevalier agrees to consider saying that.

[heeseung-min]

[22:00]

Yang Jungwon has been always jealous of his brother. Being first in everything, getting everyone appreciate him, even his parents favor his brother more than him.

"Jungwon, come here. Your brother brought someone. Introduce yourself."

His mother said delightfully. Looks like she is so proud of the person his brother came with. Jungwon rolled his eyes and walked closer to them and finally sees the person his mom was talking about.

Jungwon couldn't explain how he feels at that time. He went speechless when he sees you shyly standing beside his brother while looked at him. His brother immediately introduced your name although that made Jungwon annoyed a little bit because he wants to hear your voice not his brother.

"It's rare for you to bring a girl to our house."

"Well because she is not just a girl. She is my girlfriend."

His mom screamed happily at his brother's remark but Jungwon didn't feel the same. He left the conversation and went straight to the table to dine the food his mom prepared. The dinner went good with his mom asked few questions on you such like when you started dating, about your family, your work and more. The conversation mostly focused on you and his brother. Jungwon wanted to leave the table since he felt his presence is not needed until he heard your voice calling at him.

"What do you do now, Jungwon? Your brother told me you just finished your college weeks ago."

"Um, well I don't have specific job right now. I just do part time when I'm free and at the same time I started planting some of fruit trees at our grandma's garden."

"That's awesome. Is the small garden at the front yard is yours?"

"Yes. I planted some flowers ---"

Jungwon's mother cut him off before he can even finish his sentence. His mom keep asking questions and questions leading to keep your attention focused on her. His brother also didn't care about Jungwon and keep talking between them only. Jungwon huffed slightly and went to wash his dishes before entered his room.

His face flushed when he remembered how focused you were listening to what he said. Usually, his mother or brother didn't pay attention on what he does as long as it's not embarassing their image, it's fine. He felt warm when you genuinely praising him. He loves it.

And maybe he wants it more.

"Do you like the flowers?"

Y/n looked at her behind and found Jungwon slowly walked and crouched beside her and stare at the flowers she was looking at.

"Yeah, the daisy looked so beautiful when I see it in front of my eyes. I didn't expect a man to plant flowers."

"Why? I think planting is really fun."

"Most of men thinking it was too difficult and planting flowers usually done by women. Even your brother thought like that."

Jungwon chuckled when he heard that sentence. Of course, his brother doesn't deserve to have you. Useless prick. He didn't know how to take care of woman properly.

Jungwon and Y/n started to get closer. But Y/n treat him literally like a younger brother and Jungwon is dying to get out of that zone and want more than that. That day, his brother went out to work while his mother was out to visit her friends and Jungwon was pretty sure it will take a long time so he wanted to use the time wisely to spend it with you.

He went out of the room and saw you were sitting in front of the piano on the living room. Seems like you wanted to try to play but didn't know how to so the notes that coming out sounds funny. He walked closer until he is behind you. While you still didn't realized someone has been standing on your behind, Jungwon took the chance to slide his hands on yours and hold it gently. Hearing you gasped and felt your hands shaking a little bit made him smile.

"Jung- Jungwon? What- what are you doing?" You stuttered through your speech. Jungwon didn't say anything but he started to move both of your hands on the piano.

"I'm teaching you." Just a short sentence from him and your tense body slowly relaxing. Little by little, you started to enjoy it and both of you lost in the time playing the piano with each other. Jungwon even taught you some simple songs that you can play on the piano.

"Thank you so much, Jungwon. It feels really nice."

"I'm always here for you, noona."

There are another week left until your marriage with Jungwon's brother. Everything has been prepared but you are still nervous about the ceremony.

"I hope everything will be fine."

"I'm sure it will. We did good so far."

Jungwon's brother reassured you. He knew you are the type to easily get nervous so he did his best to not make it too stressful for you.

"Hyung, can you take mom from her friend's house? She asked for it." Jungwon suddenly said made both of Y/n and his brother looked at him. His brother just nodded and stand up to take his coat before went out of the house.

"Be careful, okay?"

"Will do, baby."

Oh,

Jungwon certainly sure it will not.

Three hours have passed yet your boyfriend and his mother is still not back. Jungwon did told that her mother's friend house is not too far and they should be back in 30 minutes. At first, you tried to stay positive thinking that they may go to somewhere else before going home. However, when your text messages and calls didn't get answer you became paranoid.

"Jungwon, do you think we should go find them?"

"Let me try to call mom's friend first."

Before any of both of you can do anything, Jungwon's phone ringing. He picked up the call and you can read from his reaction, it seems something bad happened.

"Noona....they were in a hospital."

_______

_______

Jungwon's happiest moment in his life was the day he got to married with you. He still can't believe when you said yes to his proposal after few times you've been refusing. The second happiest moment when he decided to sabotage his brother's car that night.

When the doctor announced that his brother and mother did not survive from the car crash, he nearly jumped out of excitement. He had to control himself since you were beside him sobbing uncontrollably. He played his role as a hero so well that you never figure out he was the killer.

"I love you so much, Y/n."

"Love you too, Jungwon."

OH MY GOD YALL🤡🤡🤌HOW LONG I TOOK THIS TO FINISH GOSH SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEAR FOR TOO LONG😞😞i hope yall still didn't forget me

TAGLIST💟: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @rowretro @eeunoia @soireegurl @obsessed1with1straykids

[itoshiexx]

blossoming love

synopsis: sae is not good with words, so he communicates with flowers instead. / or, every time itoshi sae gave you a bouquet in significant moments.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 2.9k | warnings: fluffy fluff, tiny bit of angst if u squint, rin and sae’s relationship isn’t fucked up, kinda proofread, ooc sae maybe? i love him tho, its really just three thousand words of him talking about love

notes: this idea has been on my mind for a while since i adore the language of flowers, and even tho sae is probably ooc, i really liked the final result ♥ also i'm trying a new layout so lmk if y'all like it~ and finally thank u so much for 2.5k followers, i love you all sm!!

masterlist

i. sunflowers for a confession

never has itoshi sae been so painfully aware of his flaws and limitations quite like the day he realized he liked you as more than a friend. because, even though he wasn’t the type of guy to wait for the universe to give him everything he wished for, anyone within three miles could see how absolutely awful he was at communicating.

so that was the dilemma: how could he express his feelings to you if the words just didn’t come out?

“flowers.”

“huh?”

rin was sitting at the couch in their parent’s home, a paused horror movie on the tv. sae didn’t even notice he started mumbling and spilling his secret crush to the younger itoshi, and the tips of his ears went red at that. he was supposed to be the smooth, suave, aloof kind of guy that gave his little brother some love advice, and not the other way around.

(not as if any of them had some kind of experience. emotional intelligence didn’t really run in the bloodline.)

“just give them flowers, nii-chan. did you know each of them has meanings? it could help you express yourself.”

“you mean like… the language of flowers or some shit?”

rin rolled his eyes, but nodded.

“just try not to use ‘some shit’. i don’t think they’re into that,” he joked, and sae could only grimace and send him the middle finger.

but as much as he didn’t want to admit, his brother was right. you were special, and you deserved the best he could give — even if it wasn’t much. he was going to learn how to be better for you, but meanwhile, the language of flowers should suffice. 

the first time you receive a bouquet from itoshi sae, they are beautiful blooms of sunflowers, expressing his adoration towards you. the small card that comes with it has a simple question:

go out with me?

ii. white gardenias and the start of something new

your first date with the pro-footballer is something simple yet sophisticated, a dinner at a famous restaurant he rented just for you two. the dim lights make everything more romantic, and your heart is beating so loud you’re afraid sae might hear it from the other side of the table. despite the euphoria that leaves you nearly breathless, you manage to talk during the night while he mostly just listens.

itoshi sae is not familiar with dates — not actual ones, at least —, so to say he was nervous was an understatement. however, he hid it well behind his nonchalant persona, even if meant avoid talking just so he didn’t fuck things up. 

sae was never a talker, anyway. and it was long ago he figured he’d rather listen to the sound of your voice and drown in the image of your sparkly eyes every time you were excited about something. 

when dinner is over and sae drives to drop you home, you’re a little shocked to see him take another flower arrangement from the floor of the backseat, just hidden enough so you didn’t notice during your ride. the petals are a pure white color with beautiful twirls, and you can’t help but gape.

“is that… is that for me?”

sae wants to scream, because of course they are for you — who else could they be for? as if he’d ever look at anyone when you’re the brightest light shining on his life.

inevitably, you’re all itoshi sae can see.

“they are gardenias,” he simply says, fighting the heat that climbs through his neck. he pushes the bouquet a little more towards you. “they made me think of you.”

your chest swells with affection, and the sweet aroma of the blooms mixed with sae’s perfume makes you a little dizzy. you only realize how close he is when his nose touches yours, hands grazing your left cheek as if you’re something fragile that he’s scared to break.

but he kisses you anyway. his mouth is delicate against yours, trying to convey his longing as a complement to the flowers on your hold.

when your lips part and you finally say goodbye, you’re certain that sae has blossomed an entire garden in your heart. starting with the white gardenias that mean new beginnings, affection and a revelation of a secret love. 

iii. blue hyacinths for an apology

sae knows how much of an asshole he can be. contrary to popular belief, he knows how sharp his words can feel and how mean his voice can sound. even if he wasn’t exactly self aware, his brother rin would sure be able to spit it to his face every time they argued. 

it wasn’t like he always meant it. sure, he didn’t care about his behavior towards the media or people he found particularly annoying (pretty much everyone), but there were people in his life that he cherished; people he didn’t want to hurt. the thing is, itoshi sae was just really, really awkward when it came to his own emotions, and he was the worst at saying how he felt. 

it’s a few months into your relationship that sae learns he would rather never play football again than make you cry. it’s a silly argument, really — he doesn’t even remember what he gets so worked up for. maybe it’s jet lag that makes him lash out on you, but it doesn’t really matter when he sees your eyes glisten and a little sniffle comes out of your lips.

“i’m s-sorry,” you say, uneasy in a way that makes his stomach churn. he wants to wipe that expression off your face, and beat himself up for being the one who put it there. 

him and his stupid ass mouth, as rin would say.

“what? why are you saying that?” his tone is more exasperated than he intends to, and god, why can’t he just shut the fuck up?

“i didn’t mean to annoy you or make things harder… i know you’re tired from your game and i… i’m sorry, sae.”

he should be the one apologizing for being an idiot, he knows; but the words are so foreign to his system that sae doesn’t even know how to put the letters together. it’s only when you pick up your stuff and leave his apartment without another word that the pro-player is shaken out of his stupor.

“fuck,” he curses under his breath. “fucking hell, sae.”

he hates that he hurt you, hates that he doesn’t know how to fix it and hates it even more that his little brother lectures him on the phone later that day, when he calls to vent.

“you already were a shitty brother, so don’t be a shitty boyfriend too,” are rin’s exact words. 

okay, ouch. kinda stings, but he figures he deserves it.

it’s almost 9pm when sae goes to your house, two bags of your favorite treats resting on his forearm while he holds the carefully chosen bouquet. the surprise on your face when you open the door makes his heart reel, though the glimmer of happiness is what makes it all worth it.

“i messed up”, is what he says as soon as he can before you decide to kick him out. “i didn’t mean to snap at you like that and… i’m sorry. i never want to hurt you.”

you take the blue hyacinths from his grasp and look at them fondly before smiling, and sae thinks the sun is shining again. he’s eternally grateful you understand the sincerity and the regret that comes from those tiny petals.

iv. red roses and the epiphanic awareness of love 

journalists from all around the world are well aware of how much itoshi sae hates interviews. it is always pretty clear with the bored — if not extremely annoyed — expression on his face and the rude answers that make anyone break a cold sweat. he doesn’t like stupid questions (all of them) and much less when the press tries to meddle in his personal business. 

it wasn’t new to be asked about his romantic relationships, and this particular topic was something that made sae scowl and diss whatever nosy, lukewarm journalist decided to pry to earn a penny. by now, everyone knows that inquiring if the midfielder is dating anyone is forbidden territory.

still, the media keeps trying to find small loopholes in what they really want to know, questions safe enough to not enrage the itoshi. it’s one of those that makes sae’s world come to a halt in the middle of a press conference in italy.

“itoshi, can you tell us about the things you love most in life?”

his brain instantly shuts down, and suddenly, sae is no longer in a room with hundreds of microphones and cameras shoved on his face, but instead in a cozy little picnic at the beach with you by his side.

if he was being honest, sae never really thought about things like love for most of his life; and not just the romantic one, but love as a whole. sure, he knew he loved his parents and his little brother, but they were parts of his life he didn’t choose, almost as if those feelings were meant to be there ever since he was born.

thinking about his life growing up, he could never really tell if what he felt was ‘love’ or just ‘like’. did he love soccer? did he love salted kombucha tea? did he love the beach? or were all these things temporary fulfillments that could end at any minute? this feeling was such a difficult concept for sae that he never bothered to actually search for answers. 

but you’ve been dating for seven months now — and sae simply knows, as a universal truth written down his bones, that the feelings he has for you are too otherworldly to fit inside the mere perception of ‘like’. liking you doesn’t do justice to the way his heart leaps and his chest is filled with happiness and peace and anxiousness and euphoria all at once whenever he thinks of you.

it’s the strangest epiphany of the century, he thinks, but that is the exact moment itoshi sae is sure you are the sole definition of love. 

he loves you. he loves you the most in life.

and even if life is hard, because the world always is, loving you amongst this chaos is the easiest thing sae has ever done.

so when he comes back from his trip and you stay over at his penthouse, he tries to demonstrate this overflowing feeling when he touches you and kisses you and makes you fall apart just to put you back together. and when the morning comes and you paddle to the kitchen for breakfast, he is there holding the prettiest bunch of classical red roses with the faintest blush on his face. 

you’re beautiful even with your unruly hair and bleary eyes, and sae is certain he will never get tired of seeing you smile for him. 

with his throat clogged with emotion, the words don’t come out. but you take the flowers in your gentle embrace and kiss him with such fondness and infatuation that he can’t help but wish you understand the deep, unconditional love he feels for you.

“i love you too, baby.”

and thankfully, you always do.

v. pink camellias for longing

longing wasn’t a feeling sae was particularly used to. 

when he left japan at the ripe age of 14, the first few months were especially harsh, since he was in a foreign country with a totally different language and culture. sae found himself missing the place he grew up, not so much for the place itself, but for the comfort its familiarity could bring. he missed rin, too. 

but as time passed and itoshi sae transformed, he stopped viewing japan and everything it had as his home, solely becoming a wandering soul in the big, cruel world. the athlete, then, longed for nothing but to be the best. 

however, he realized that life as he knew would never be the same after falling in love with you, for those feelings were strong as tidal waves, all-consuming and capable of changing everything in its course. 

everytime he was away, sae really fucking missed you.

“how long will you be gone for?”

even before he left. 

“…a month.” 

his voice is low and slightly hesitant. you’re together on the living room couch, watching a shitty rom-com movie that sae hates but always watches because it’s your favorite. his arms are around you while your back rests against his chest, and he feels a little dizzy — whether it’s from your sweet perfume or the fear inside of him, he doesn’t quite know.

though he will never admit it, the midfielder is always scared whenever he has to leave for longer periods of time. because what if you get tired of him? what if you start feeling so alone and neglected you end up hating him? the thought alone is enough to make him want to throw up. 

you turn around to face him, and the little pout of your lips suddenly has him feeling sick. 

“so long? you really have to?”

he sighs, because yeah, unfortunately, he does have to stay that long to follow the team along the season. even if he’d rather stay with you and just fly near game days.

“yeah. i’m sorry, mi amor.”

sae lets you turn around fully and adjust yourself on his lap, each leg sitting comfortably around his hips. both of his hands are immediately holding on your waist, as if afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t. 

“don’t apologize, handsome. i know it’s your job. i’m just gonna miss you a lot.”

he has the urge to kiss your sullen look away, and it’s exactly what he does. his lips touch yours with the same tenderness they always do, but there’s a certain urgency in the way his mouth moves and his tongue carefully glides with yours, as if he’s trying to convey just how much more he will miss you.

because although no one would ever believe him, he always misses you more.

“i wish i could stay here with you,” he says when you part, and the little bashful smile you give him makes his heart soar. 

“but you love what you do, though.”

yeah, but i love you more. the thought is something that has been plaguing his mind during the nearly two years you’ve been together, because sae never expected to have something — or rather someone — who would become his entire world quite like how you do. it’s frightening and dreadful and not what he wished for himself, but sae can’t say that he hates it. there’s nothing about you or the gentleness of your love that he can hate.

that’s why when the time of his trip comes, a beautiful bouquet of pink camellias is placed on your kitchen island, and you know it’s his way of showing his longing for you.

vi. amaranthus and the promise of forever

even if many people disagree, sae knows he is always right. it’s how he knew you were the one even before he had you, and more so even before he realized he wanted you. somehow, it’s always been a truth his mind couldn’t ignore.

it’s on a lazy sunday morning at your shared apartment that itoshi sae is taken by a sudden urge of asking you to marry him. 

there’s nothing extraordinary about the scenery; just you making him a snack after waking up from your — now shared — 3pm nap, hair tied in a bun, swaying your hips while stirring the food on the frying pan. he hugs you from behind and rests his head on your shoulder, nosing at the crook of your neck in an attempt to absorb all that you are. you giggle with the ticklish feeling, and the warmth that spreads through his chest somehow doesn’t feel weird anymore.

somehow, it’s now something he deeply cherishes. sae can only describe being with you as pure bliss.

and he’s always been selfish, a true egoist to its core. it’s why he’s faced with his deepest desire to have the honor of spending a lifetime by your side, if only you’ll have him.

he’s had the ring for a while now, hidden behind several socks in his drawer. it might as well be the time, he thinks; a lazy sunday afternoon that has nothing grandiose. sae was never one for big gestures anyway.

so when you both finish eating, sae tells you he’ll be out for a jog, and you just hum with your pretty smile. his heart is beating abnormally fast when he goes to the flower shop, and by the time he’s back home, he thinks it might just explode.

but this… you are it for him, he’s certain. the same way he was certain four years ago, when your love started to blossom until it became the prettiest garden.

and when sae is down on one knee asking the most important question of his life, ring box in one hand and the bouquet of amaranthus on the other, the teary smile and whispered “yes” you give makes him certain that, no matter what, your love will be eternal.

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[reverieblondie]

now all ive got in my head is fever pushed confessions. like either zev or rolan taking care of tav and tav is just honest saying whatever pops in their head . its mostly nonsense but out of the blue its just this shameless love confession, is decorated with every reason why they adore rolan/zev and a glassy eyed stare

oh, I have thoughts!

So lets start with Rolan, You are just giggling and letting the fever fully take you over as Rolan is trying his best to get your body temperature down. I imagine that Rolan is really good at dealing with sick people because as an older brother when his mom was at work and cal or lia were sick he was the one feeding them soup and giving medicine. He keeps trying to put the rag on you are your just asking him everything you can think of.

"Rolan, what's your favorite color?" "Uh...don't have one? Blue maybe?"

"Rolan, why do you wear your hair like that?" "Well, helps keep the hair out of my eyes." cut to you pulling out the tie and he just sighs and laughs as as your burying your hands in his soft hair.

"You have pretty hair..." "Thank you" "And a pretty face..." Rolan looks at you with a smirk, yeah your fever is bad, "Thank you. Let me get you so medicine."

As Rolan gets up that's when you reach out and grab his robe forcing him to turn back, "What? need something else?" You look at him with all sincerity, "You know I love you right?" Rolans first instinct is to chuckle it off but...your serious... "I- Tav..."

"And its not just because your pretty either... your hard working and kind and you do your best to take care of the people you care about... I even love when your being cocky and suave, then shy and nerdy...I just love every bit of you..." Rolan sits down and carefully cups your cheek, "When your fever breaks, tell all this to me again so I can tell you how much I love you, even when your pestering and playing hero, or even when your acting silly from a fever, I love every part of you. Deal?"

You eagerly nod and Rolan then goes to get your medicine. but as soon as he slips from the room he is leaning against the wall holding his chest, Y-You love him...and your going to confess again... he needs to heal you faster!

Okay now for Zevlor,

Zevlor is not so used to helping sick people but he's not completely lost either. Zevlor has given fed you, wrapped you in blankets and has given you medicine that should sooth your fever and let you rest. Its while he is rising from his chair next to your bed that your meek voice is calling for him, he is immediately at you side ready to run anywhere to get you anything you need.

"Zevlor...I am still so cold..." Zevlor frowns as he presses his hand to your head, "I know Tav I am sorry...but I am out of blankets I could find do you ha-"

"Will you lay with me...please?" Zevlor is frozen...he knows he shouldn't and he's trying to think of an accuse why he shouldn't but he just can't think of one...so he agrees and sides in. Your quick to wrap yourself around his warm body your shivering getting less as he holds you back, albeit timidly.

"Your..so warm.." You say into his chest, Zevlor is trying to to explode, it's not that he hasn't been in a persons bed...but this is you...and its been such a long time, he doesn't want to read into anything... "ha, yeah infernal blood makes me warmer than most, its terrible in the summer months."

This gets a chuckle as you hold him tighter, "I wouldn't mind cuddling you in the summer...I would want to be wrapped in your arms anytime you would let me..." Zevlor is praying you can't hear his racing heart, "I'm sure you would grow tired of something like that."

you laugh, "Why would I get tired being held by the man I love? I love you so much that no matter what i would always want to be in your arms..."

Zevlor holds you tighter, "Y-you love me?"

"Very much..."

Zevlor swallows the lump in his throat before he finds that old confidence he had in his younger years, "Tav, I love you." but all he hears in response is a soft snoring...

he chuckles and places a kiss to your head, vowing to himself to confess to you again when he finally asks you on a date...

Those are my thoughts!

[lauraneedstochill]

Make a move

summary: you think Aemond is too arrogant to woo you, but he’s got some tricks up his sleeve. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader words: ~ 6000 warnings: a bit of bickering and teasing, it gets slightly heated (Aemond has a praise kink, but I doubt anyone is surprised), mostly it’s just silly fluff author’s note: this was inspired by “Crazy, stupid, love”, particularly the scene where Emma kisses Ryan (one of my favorite on-screen kisses!) and everything that follows. I recently rewatched the movie and had an idea for this story (also, I may or may not have a thing for men’s hands... you’ve been warned)

You keep mindlessly tapping your fingers on the wooden table, your cup of wine untouched. You don’t really notice the movement, too wrapped up in your thoughts, until your friend Margaret sneers.

“If you don’t stop, I might bite your hand off,” she says, sitting across the table.

“Then I’ll use the other one,” you huff but pause your fidgeting. “Better bite my head off, it will do us both more good.”

“But I like your head very much,” she pouts. “Is this about Thomas again?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands and thinking back to the conversation you had earlier today with said man. Your emotions are a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as you can’t stop thinking about his words.

“He said the meeting will be of great importance. What if he...? You know,” you mutter, and Margaret huffs.

“I hope he won’t.”

“Hey, you are supposed to be my friend!” you playfully pinch her hand, and she fakes a gasp.

“I am your friend. And as your friend, I think you deserve way more than that sad excuse of a man,” her face gets serious for a second, and you feel your smile waver.

“Mar, you know I don’t have much of a choice,” you breathe out, and your heart sinks at the thought. “He isn’t that bad, really. He’s always been kind to me.”

“Sounds like every girl's dream,” she rolls her eyes. “And you want to settle down for a kind man? Nothing else?”

“What do you think my options are? Please, enlighten me since I’m clearly missing something,” you cross arms on your chest. You know she’s right and she means good, but your frustration gets the best of you.

Luckily, Margaret catches it and gives you a sympathetic smile.

“All I’m saying is that for as long as I can remember you’ve always dreamt of something more,” she extends her hand across the table and lightly squeezes yours. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids, and you are the most loving person out of everyone I know. Should I remind you who taught me how to dance? Protected me against my idiot brothers?” you giggle at the memory. “You’ve got an adventurous spirit and a heart of gold. You deserve an epic love story,” there’s a hint of sadness in her voice.

For a minute you sink into your thoughts again.

“And you think Thomas is not the one?” you sigh.

“He’s epically boring at best,” Margaret takes a sip out of her cup. “I know he’s not the one — and you do, too.”

“My parents approve of him,” you try to argue, but she’s quick to object.

“They only care about your approval. And they mistakenly took your lack of protest for it,” Margaret gives you a gloomy look.

“You are aware that I can’t wait forever, right? I’m not getting any younger.”

“Nor smarter,” she snickers.

“Not everyone is lucky to meet the love of their life at the age of ten-and-two,” you frown. Margaret and Jamie got married three years ago, but they have been betrothed for seven prior to that.

“Fair,” she beams, and you can’t stay irritated for long. They are still ridiculously in love with each other, and you are really happy for her. You just wish to feel that, too. You crave that indescribable feeling of longing and wanting and caring for someone else — and being loved just as much in return.

“Maybe the concept of love is overrated,” you ramble. “It was easy to believe in when I was a kid but... As I am growing older, it’s getting harder to cling to hope, I guess. And I’m trying to make an effort and meet new people and... to show just enough character to not scare them away,” you quote your mother. “Yet all of them just make me feel nothing. At all. And I—” you realize that Margaret isn’t listening, her gaze is on something else behind your back. “Hey, I’m pouring out my heart of gold,” you hiss, and her sight shifts to you.

Before you can question her behavior, she informs. “Someone’s been keeping an eye on you.”

“Margaret, I’m trying to have a serious conversation about my future,” you fight the urge to turn around.

“Maybe this is your future!” she winks, and you grunt at her silliness.

“We are in a tavern out of all places! I’d rather take a kind man as my betrothed than a drunk one,” you’re about to scold her, but your friend’s eyes go wide.

“His hair,” her voice is barely above the whisper. “I can make out the strands of silver,” Margaret slightly leans towards you. “You know what that means?”

“That you had too much wine? Mayhaps we should head home,” you suggest, but your friend protests.

“Sit down!” she shushes. “He is coming over here,” Margaret puts on a smile that looks painfully forged. The never-ending chattering of people around you makes your head hurt, and you’re too tired to play along.

“Mar, it’s been a long day, and the last thing I want is to waste my time entertaining some man’s arrogance and...,” you don’t get to finish because he interrupts your train of thought. 

“What if a man entertains you?” his voice is low and cocky. You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. You don’t want to make a scene in a public place so you pull yourself together, thinking that you can talk your way out of this ridiculous situation.

But when you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, your plan is suddenly forgotten.

He is taller than you, a black cloak covering most of his body and his head, so your attention is naturally drawn to his face. He wears an eyepatch, and you look over his sharp features — his prominent nose, high cheekbones that flow down to the curved contour of lips, plump and alluring. Margaret was right about the hair, but she failed to mention the color of his eye. Taking that into account, it’s not hard to guess that he’s a Targaryen. Which means that he definitely is arrogant.

Well, two can play that game.

You ignore his question and pointedly don’t stand up in his presence.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I believe the pleasure is all mine,” he is only looking at you.

“We just met, you should not jump to conclusions,” you feel Margaret kicking your leg under the table but dismiss her warning.

“Sharp tongue,” he notes.

“Will this be a problem?” you challenge him.

“On the contrary,” it sounds like he’s actually enjoying it.

It is tricky to read his intentions. But when his gaze is concentrated on you, it makes you feel like there’s no one else in the room, and that sensation is thrilling.

“What brings you here, if I may ask?” you press, trying to ignore the unknown feeling creeping up on you.

“It is a nice tavern, wouldn’t you say so? Since you are here, too.” 

“No, I mean what brings you to our table. There are plenty of others you could’ve graced with your presence.”

“Something must’ve caught my eye,” he says, and you see a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Some thing? Well, the interior isn’t very eye-catching if you ask me. But we might have to disagree on that.”

“You aren’t being very agreeable, it seems.”

“That’s what servants are for, and I’m not one,” you’re being defiant yet it doesn’t bother him.

“Please, do tell me more about yourself,” he swiftly pulls up a nearby chair and sits right next to you, his eye never leaving your face.

“Should you pull another one? For your ego, since it takes quite a lot of space.”

He squints at your words, and the corners of his mouth turn into a grin.

“I think we have that in common,” he bites back, but there’s no anger in his voice. If anything, the man looks curious, and you have to admit that you don’t take offense at his wit.

“Are there any other far-reaching conclusions that you managed to come up to?” you turn your body to him, so now you two are opposite each other.

“I only got here a few minutes ago. But I am a great observer should you give me a little more time.”

“Am I supposed to take your word for it? You are not as convincing as you think,” you impugn, so he pauses briefly.

“You don’t trust people easily, do you? How’s that for an observation,” his voice gets quiet, but his gaze is piercing.

“Men,” you correct him. “I don’t trust men.”

“Any of them dared to break your trust?” he gets a little closer, and you instinctively gravitate toward him.

“That would’ve required them to gain my trust first,” you retort.

“And what would it take for me to do so?”

“Do you expect me to make it easy? That’s not very observant of you,” your grin matches his own.

“Nothing good comes easy,” he murmurs, and you involuntarily lay your eyes on his lips. “But I expect it to be worth it.”

You feel a pull toward him, something that’s hard to describe but oh so natural to give into. His confidence isn’t intimidating but rather attractive, and you can’t help but notice how his gaze warms up your whole body. He makes you feel wanted without even doing anything.

But then you think of Thomas. Of the upcoming meeting and your future that depends on it. And you know you can’t throw it all away for some silly conversation with a self-confident stranger. No matter how enjoyable it seems to be.

You bite your lip and look away from him.

“That is enough entertainment for today,” you put some distance between you two. When you give him a quick glance, you catch a shadow of disappointment on his face.

“Didn’t take you for a quitter,” the blond comments.

“You should manage your expectations.”

“Maybe I should manage yours,” he has some nerve. 

“That would be very time-consuming,” you suddenly realize that he’s sitting in your way, and it looks like he isn’t going to move.

“Are you in a rush?”

“I am” — “She isn’t,” you and Margaret say at the same time. You feel your cheeks heating up as you give her a death stare.

“Has anyone told you that you look charming when you are embarrassed?” he remarks, and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Preferably with your lips. You mentally scold yourself and push that thought away.

“Does this usually work for you?” you get up, thinking of a way out.

“You tell me,” he leans back on his chair with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly aware that he's blocking your exit.

“Cornering women in taverns is your way of courting?” you think how to distract him, but nothing springs to mind. “And then what, you just drag them into your man cave?”

“They come voluntarily,” it looks like your words struck a chord, but he keeps up the facade of indifference. “I happen to live nearby,” he notes casually.

“We both know that’s not exactly true,” you scoff with a tilt of your head. You are positive that the walk to the castle will take at least thirty minutes.

“Want to bet?” he sits up straight.

“And what do I get out of this?”

He looks you up and down before answering:

“Me.”

He’s pushing his luck at this point.

You glance around and take note that the tavern is packed with people, and no one is paying attention to you. You also realize that Margaret already sneaked out and is standing at the door. She raises an eyebrow with a silent question, as if asking what are you going to do.

That’s when you decide you can push some boundaries, too.

Your eyes are back on the man in front of you. Without giving it a second thought, you step closer to him.

“Was that supposed to make me weak in the knees?” you whisper, and his face expression melts into an amused one. Seizing the moment, you yank your dress up and throw a leg over him. He immediately looks down at the exposed skin of your thigh, his mouth is slightly agape as he’s now sitting between your legs. You see him tensing up, his fingers clenching into fists as if he’s fighting the urge to put his hands on you. You think that if he does, you are not going anywhere. You wouldn’t want to go anywhere — the realization makes you tremble, and you know that you don’t have much time.

You boldly place your hand on his shoulder, pressing him back onto the chair.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are not that impressive,” you say, throwing your other leg over him and successfully moving away.

When you get to the door, the look on Margaret’s face is priceless. You grab her by the arm and drag her outside in a hurry, merging into the crowd of passers-by.

“I need you to explain what the h—” she starts, but you interrupt her.

“Please, don’t,” you snarl. “Don’t say anything, just give me five minutes.”

You can’t even explain to yourself what happened back there and why you did that. You think of his gaze roaming over your body, the depth of his voice and the curves of his lips. You tell yourself that you need to get him out of your head as soon as possible. You fail miserably.

One week later, you are dining with Thomas at his house, and yet your mind wanders back to the arrogant one-eyed man. Aemond, as you’ve learned — and it wasn’t that you wanted to, but fate had other plans.

And by fate, you mean Margaret.

Once her five minutes were up, she couldn’t stop talking. By the time you came home, you got his whole backstory — the second-born son of the King, has two brothers and two sisters, rides the biggest dragon in the world. Overly confident, stubborn, wears an eyepatch because he doesn’t want to scare the ladies of the court. Usually doesn’t talk much.

Unlike Thomas who gathered his whole family and can’t stop blabbing. You struggle to participate in their conversation, giving polite smiles left and right. You don’t know what to expect of the evening, and it makes you nervous. And not in a good way. All of a sudden the possibility of marrying Thomas doesn’t seem to be the best.

From the corner of your eye, you catch him standing up, clearly readying himself for a speech. He has a manner of pursing his lips every time he’s agitated, and it looks weird. That’s also how it felt when he kissed you, which is probably the reason you haven’t done much kissing after that. You wonder what it’s like to kiss Aemond. Just thinking of it makes your heart rate speed up, and you nervously gulp half a cup of wine.

“I gathered all of you today to make an important announcement,” he starts his pompous monologue, “that may not come as a surprise to some of you.”

You cautiously look at the door.

“But, as of recently, I received inspiration to change the course of my life. And I decided to devote myself to the service of Gods.”

You nearly choke on your drink. In all the years you’ve known Thomas, he’s never been to the Sept once.

“And I wanted to grant you this privilege to be the first ones to know.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. You wait for any other announcements — literally anything else — but Thomas goes back to chattering, also accepting pointless congratulations. It takes you ten painfully long minutes to get a chance to talk to him alone.

“May I have a word?” you inquire, and the two of you move to the far end of the room.

“It is about your speech,” you clarify. “It might sound silly, but I thought that you were planning... Um,” you’re trying to formulate your concerns. “I was wondering, how would you describe our relationship? Or the prospect of it, I should say,” you give him a tight smile.

“Oh,” his face pales slightly.

Your facial expression mirrors his. Oh?

“I am actually glad you asked,” he awkwardly takes your hands in his, and you notice how sweaty his palms are.

“You know, you’ve been a great companion of mine,” his voice is as weak as his smile. “And I am forever grateful for those moments that we shared as they only brought me joy,” his hands feel like jelly, and you don’t want to hold them. Like, ever. “But now that I’m choosing to follow my destiny,” you do your best to suppress a chuckle at his dramatic phrasing. “I decided that... I need some time to figure out how I feel. About us.”

You look at him, dumbfounded, his words sinking in.

“You need... some time?” you drawl, feeling an emotion bubbling up in your chest. You are not sure what it is. “You? Need to think about us?” you repeat, and he nods, his brows furrowed at your reaction.

There is a moment of silence, and then you hear yourself laughing. You can’t control it as you’re overcome with emotion, your laughter only growing stronger, to the point of you tearing up a bit. The emotion is relief. There’s no way you’ll ever marry this man.

“I am the one who should be glad, Thomas,” you shake his hand while he seems wildly perplexed, all of his guests staring at you. “Thank you for your honesty, really. I hope you will be successful in all your endeavors, marriage included.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you already turned around.

“Where are you going?!”

You stop for a second, your thoughts rushing back to the conversation with Margaret. To that evening in the tavern.

“I have a meeting, it’s of great importance,” you say and quicken your pace. You reach the tavern when it’s already getting dark, the weather is cloudy, and your coat is wet in the light drizzle. You walk in a daze as you’re torn between being excited and anxious. There is a chance that Aemond won’t be there. That he doesn’t remember you. That he’s with someone else. That he had a change of heart. That he...

You spot him almost immediately after you walk in.

Coincidentally or not, he’s sitting at the exact same table you were at the first time you met. You stay still as his eye absentmindedly wanders around the room and then lands on you. Aemond stands up — way too quickly — and you see a well-known grin growing on his face. Your eyes dart to his lips, and the question pops up in your head again.

You feel the pull — and before you can think, your body follows it.

He keeps his gaze on you, his brows rising at the speed of your approach. You cover the distance in a heartbeat, your hands reaching his face, and he slightly flinches, probably because your fingers are cold from being outside. And then you stand on your tiptoes and crash your lips onto his without any hesitation.

He gasps, surprised and frozen for a moment. It takes just a couple of seconds for him to melt into the kiss, and his hands are instantly on your waist, pulling you closer to him. Aemond’s lips are way softer than you anticipated — and it’s the only thing on your mind. His mouth on yours, warm and exploring, the slow pacing of the kiss that leaves you lightheaded and yearning for more.

He presses your body into his, lifting you up with ease, and your feet leave the ground. You tug his hood further down so it covers most of your face, too, and then you slide your thumb up the sharp line of his jaw. His tongue runs over your lower lip, and you feel a wave of heat rising in your stomach.

You pull away before you can take it too far.

“You remember me?” you ask him, panting.

He hums, his eye focused on your lips.

“Still believe that nothing good comes easy?” you mimic his words, but he ignores your jesting.

“Definitely,” Aemond looks you in the eyes, keeping his hands on your waist.

“Is the bet still on?”

“Yes,” the corners of his mouth curl.

“Lead the way, then.” By the time you reach the castle, the rain is pouring in full force, and your clothes are drenched. The two of you rush through the streets, your hands intertwined, and it feels like it only takes about ten minutes before you sneak into his chambers, both out of breath and giggling.

Only when you take a look around the unfamiliar settings, it suddenly dawns on you that you are all alone with a man you barely know, and your bravery starts fading away.

Whether Aemond notices the change in your mood or not, you can’t tell, but he respectfully keeps his distance.

“You need to get out of these,” he points at your coat and dress. “They’re soaking wet.”

“Is this your way of trying to get me naked?” you eye him suspiciously, making Aemond scoff.

“I just don’t want you to catch a cold,” he honestly states. “I’ll fetch you a shirt of mine.” Sensing your doubts, he adds, “Don’t worry, it is long enough.”

He brings you the shirt and politely turns away, going to the other end of the room to light the fireplace. On his way there, he removes the cloak and the jacket, his upper body only covered by the same piece of clothing he gave you. You watch him carefully, noting the movement of his back muscles as he bends down.

The sparkling glow of fire brings you back to reality, and you hastily remove your clothes, leaving the undergarments on, which are luckily dry. You put on his shirt, and it barely reaches your knees, but the material feels nice and comfortable. While Aemond is still busy with the fire, you glance over his room.

It’s spacious and simply furnished, and your attention is drawn to a couple of shelves nearby. You look at the tightly packed rows of books, some of the hardcovers are worn out from old age. You catch the familiar naming and pull one of them out, gently flipping through the pages.

“You take interest in philosophy?” his voice startles you. You missed the moment he came back, and when you take your eyes off the book, you see him leaning on the nearest shelf, looking at you inquisitively.

“I do, indeed,” you confess. “And I read this one so many times, my own copy pretty much fell apart.”

“You can take mine,” Aemond offers.

You notice that despite his cockiness, his presence is actually very calming. Everything is easy with him — striking up conversations, making jokes. Taking his hand in yours, running in the rain. Kissing.

Your heart skips a beat, and you sheepishly move on to another topic:

“Shouldn’t you change as well?” you refer to his shirt, but he shakes his head.

“No need.”

“Oh, was it the Targaryen’s dragon blood that helped you dry up?” you tend to jest when you’re nervous, and right now is no exception.

“My cloak is too thick for the water to soak through. But I like your version, too,” his lips ripple into a smile.

You can help but smile back. “Thank you for the shirt.”

“It looks really good on you,” the words smoothly roll off his tongue and ignite the familiar burning deep in your core. He keeps his gaze on your face, your eyes locking for a moment.

You look away first, letting out a timid laugh.

“I must admit, I like this way of courting better,” you place the book back. “But you can cut it short. What’s your move?”

“My... move?” Aemond gives you a quizzical look.

“Yes, your big move. Show me,” you request eagerly.

“Don’t know what you're talking about,” he looks down, his aplomb faltering.

“What do you usually do to impress a lady?”

“I don’t really need to do anything,” Aemond shrugs.

“What a humble individual you are,” you chuckle and give him a minute to think. “So what is it?”

“I just told you...,” it seems like he’s trying to dodge the topic, which only sparks your curiosity.

“Oh, come on! You princes always have a move. Let me guess, you speak to her in High Valyrian? Men like to talk big,” he snorts. “No? Try to win her over with your...,” you gesture at his bookshelves, “...precious collection? Although it’s risky because what if she’s not into reading, that would be awkward,” and then it hits you. “Wait, it’s the dragon, isn’t it? You show her your dragon? Got to make sure it’s well-fed, though, otherwise you’ll have a date with a roasted —”

“It’s my sword,” he cuts you off, and you swear you can see him blushing at the confession.

“Um, your sword? Is this a metaphor for someth—”

“Gods, no. I mean the actual sword. The one you grip with your hand and poke people with.”

“That description didn’t help,” you tease, and he groans.

“You know what I mean,” Aemond gives you a pointed look, but his face flushed pink, and you can’t take him seriously.

“I do, you just look really charming when you are embarrassed,” you say cheekily, which makes him huff. “My apologies. Please elaborate on the sword. How does it work?”

Aemond hesitates but then realizes that you will never let it go, so he gives in.

“I bring my training into the conversation. And then I... show them,” he talks with his hands when he’s uncomfortable, and you find it endearing.

“And that’s it?”

“Pretty much,” Aemond nods.

“They watch you train, and that’s what does it for the ladies?”

“I don’t know why, I never gave it much thought.”

“Well, someone should. Can’t imagine it ever working on me.”

You feel a sudden shift in the air as Aemond slowly looks up at you. You’re standing a few feet apart, and he’s yet to initiate anything, but once again, it only takes a look from him for you to feel a familiar flare-up of the tantalizing desire.

“I’m not going to take you to the training yard in the pouring rain,” he concludes.

“But it’s not about the place, is it? Must be something about you,” now you’re the one champing at the bit to see what the fuss is all about.

“I don’t have a sword on me.”

“Opt for something smaller, I am sure it will do,” you hint at the dagger that you’ve seen him carry, and wait expectantly for him to agree.

Aemond reluctantly contemplates your suggestion, then sighs and goes to get his dagger which he left next to the cloak.

You wonder if the ladies are attracted to his competitive spirit. If they enjoy the feeling of danger they get at the sight of steel, the cold shine of it, the clang of swords. Or maybe it’s the urge to take sides and root for the winner?

And then you see Aemond rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, — and your breath suddenly hitches.

The room is lit by fire, the warmth of it illuminating his skin, casting shadows that frame every muscle of his arms. He takes the dagger in one hand, the movement fast and honed, and your eyes follow it. You notice the scattering of his veins that go down his wrist and into his palm, the blue lines tightening with every swirl. The silver blade catches and reflects the light, but you are focused solely on his flexing muscles.

He’s maneuvering the dagger with ease, almost carelessly, yet you know that every motion is well-practiced through years of training. His long fingers grip the hilt, revealing the sharp outline of his knuckles. The steel silently cuts through the air, again and again, but your eyes are glued to his hands. The way they move, the power that he holds in them. The things he can do with them, with his fingers. The way they will feel on your bare skin and in your... You swallow, letting out a shuddered breath.

“Are you weak in the knees yet?” his words bring you out of your trance, and you blink a couple of times, trying to shake the feeling off. Your body is so heated, you’re surprised you are not sweating yet.

“Is this the point when the ladies throw themselves at you?” your voice is hoarse, and you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

Aemond stops his movements. You feel your skin tingling with anticipation, waiting for him to finish what he started, but he doesn’t budge. For a short while, you’re taken aback by the change in his demeanor — and the realization strikes you.

“Wait, how many ladies were here before me?”

“I never said I take them here,” he puts the dagger back in its sheath, averting his gaze.

“But you told me that you do your... thing with the sword for them.”

“In the training yard, with other people around us, yes.”

“So then you just leave them all hot and bothered? Aemond, that is cruel,” his actions confuse you, but while you’re looking for an explanation, he turns back to you and finally meets your gaze.

“It would’ve been cruel to lead them on when I feel nothing for them,” he reveals, and you discern the raw honesty in his words. And you know exactly what he means. It’s the tiresome attempts to find someone who will spark your interest, to spot a connection, all of those efforts leading nowhere and making you feel like you’re the one at fault. But you aren’t — and he isn’t, either.

Aemond looks almost ashamed of letting out something so personal, but you welcome the intimacy of this moment.

“I shall consider myself lucky, then,” you say softly.

He gives you that same look that makes you feel like the world around you disappears.

“You are... something else,” Aemond mumbles.

You guess that he isn’t used to being straightforward about his feelings, nor does he know how to express his affection with words. You really, really want to kiss him again.

The boyish grin reappears on his face.

“Did you mean I left you all hot and bothered?” Aemond narrows his eye.

“I never said that,” you smile coyly. “Maybe you should’ve tried a little harder.”

“I happen to have some tricks up my sleeve,” he takes a step towards you and, before you can ask for details, you feel his fingers on your ribs as he starts tickling you, and you immediately burst into laughter.

His touches are light, fingers grazing against your clothed skin as he subtly moves you further into the room until your legs bump into his bed. Losing your balance, you fall on it, your back met with the fluffiness of thick blankets. Aemond hovers over you, and you can’t stop giggling, trying to wiggle away from his tickles.

Wrapped up in the moment, you make a careless move, your hand brushing up his cheek — and you suddenly see a bright gleam of blue on the right side of his face.

Aemond freezes at the spot, halting his actions, and momentarily flinches away. You are gawking at the sapphire, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He makes a move to fix his eyepatch, but you stop him.

“Don’t,” you catch his hand mid-air, your grip delicate but firm, and he doesn’t fight it. You would’ve been surprised by your own quick reaction if only your mind wasn’t completely occupied with the sight in front of you.

It looks like the gem absorbs all the light in the room, shimmering with various shades of blue. It’s cut in a way to imitate a surface of an eye, the sides of the sapphire polished and blending into each other. There is a depth to it, bright sparkles drowning in a color that’s close to black, and the spillovers are mesmerizing.

You bring your hand closer to his face, to the area that’s been left covered and unloved, and touch the skin with the tip of your finger. He lets you.

“Wow,” you breathe out, gently tracing his scar. “This is the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

Aemond looks at you in disbelief, his eye fixed on your face, and his lips parted.

“...What?” he manages to ask.

“You look like a pirate. A really badass... sky pirate?” you suggest, and he lets out a light chuckle, still not entirely sure he believes you.

So you shamelessly continue.

“A pirate with his own dragon. The largest one in the Seven Kingdoms as I’ve heard,” you can almost feel him swelling with pride. “He charms the ladies with his fighting skills — and has a gem for an eye? Incredibly irresistible,” your index finger circles the area around his sapphire.

He listens attentively, holding his breath.

“A prince who is as good with his sword as he is with his wit, fond of reading and isn’t averse to mischief. Any lady of the court would’ve been fortunate to get a hold of such treasure,” you remove the eyepatch and tenderly cradle his face. “Yet I am the one who’s been honored to see all of him,” you glance from the bright gemstone to his eye and back. “Honestly, it’s kind of hard to pick which one I like more...,” you are barely able to notice him sharply lower his head, and your words die down.

Without a warning, Aemond covers your lips with his, the intensity of the kiss pulling the air out of your lungs right away. He’s been holding back the first time, but he isn’t now, and the passion sets you ablaze. His tongue slips into your mouth, easily tangling with yours, and you moan at the contact. Aemond skilfully unbuttons your shirt, and the second his fingers touch your skin, you shiver, the quivering sensation washing over you. His hands slowly slide down your ribcage, tracing the curves of your body, making your back arch, your chest flush against his, your heart pounding. He contours the bend of your hips, then presses his palms there, his touches rough, claiming, burning. You move your fingers up the base of his neck and run them through his hair, and he releases a shaky sigh. Aemond relishes in the feeling of your compliance, the fervor of it, your body being so needy and welcoming, until you are both gasping for air.

“Was that impressive enough?” he rasps, and you look up at him through your lashes, spellbound and breathless. His pupil is dilated, gaze clouded with lust, your noses adjoin.

“Yeah-yes. Yes, very,” you utter, at a loss for words.

“Good. Because I’m about to outdo myself,” he tightens his grip on your thighs, picking you up and moving into the middle of the bed. Your head barely touches the pillow when his lips are on yours again.

🔥 my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes

[secriden]

THK Episode 1 thoughts in no particular order or level of coherency:

I didn't see Fadel as Lawful Good coming, but at the same time it makes perfect sense now that I've seen the episode

Somehow, I now kinda ship First with both Joong and Dunk and I cannot explain it even to myself but damn.

Khaotung's ability to not just sound and act but nearly exude the presence of a naive innocent young man, head still in the clouds and dreaming of true love, is Truly Impressive. I actually believe, not only that he's younger than Fadel, but that he genuinely lacks the emotional maturity too even process the risk that Fadel sees.

I now appreciate so much what people said about First's almost understated detailed acting because those rapid shifts in his expressions said so much in tiny increments of time, I'm blown away.

Dunk is so pretty, Dunk is so pretty, DUNK IS SO FUCKING PRETTY!?!?!

But also please I adore everything Dunk did as Style he gave absolutely everything for that character and held nothing back. The way he just... went for it?? In all the scenes, every single one? I'm trying not to be too spoiler-y but damn, I get it when First said that Dunk really embodied Style because he really really DID!!!

That ending was genius my brain immediately lit up with all the ways this could go and I'm SO EXCITED

The way the sex wasn't even remotely the most insanity-inducing thing in this episode really goes to show how well this was made but also ITS HILARIOUS

Having said that, damn it was hot!!

Joong's eyebrows eyebrowing so hard <3

I don't think JoongDunk were meant to have sexual tension at all in this episode but they still felt very sexy to me. Maybe its just me, but it felt like tension even when Fadel is mostly just pissed off there's that... okay, you know how the opposite of love is not hate, but apathy? Guess what, zero apathy right here!!

I'm genuinely so happy with what we got though. It really is as light and silly and camp and gorgeous as they promised and I'm so so grateful for that. There's potential for devastation (I see you, Kant, hiding backstory hints inside your soft serve!), but also how lucky are we to get silly romantic shenanigans with the murder brother duo and their (future) flirty boyfriends???

Also the music!? Can we talk about THE MUSIC?? it was so... idk, like it was almost its own character in this episode. It was like audience direction with how much it would abruptly change the tone of the scene. I wonder if this will continue throughout the show or if they're doing it because it's the first episode and they're really really laying those comedy foundations down, but its fascinating.

I can't believe we get "Good Morning, krub" and "love at first sight" in the same episode omg ;A; <3

Style should've learned from the expert:

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: Steve has a few younger siblings. He is very protective over them (2 brothers & 1 baby sister) his family is very close. But the party meeting his siblings in the hospital post spring break from hell, Steve's little sister screams tearfully until she is put beside her older brother who is in hospital due to severe injuries. His younger brothers (8yrs old & 5 yrs old) demand for their big brother to be left alone by these strangers. The party demanded to know why he kept his siblings from them???? Also Steve just being loved on by his parents & his siblings and of the party.

DARLING IDK HOW YOU COME UP WITH THIS STUFF BUT THANK GOD YA DO!!! Steve having siblings and good parents and STILL choosing to be the best damn babysitter is kind of giving me LIFE. I am forever here for giving Steve all the love he deserves. A little backstory for this in my brain: Steve's parents got married right out of high school at their own parents' insistence, and they loved each other, but wanted to go to college first. Anne got pregnant during their honeymoon and had to put college on hold. The reason there's such a big age gap between Steve and his siblings is because she finished college, started working as a lawyer, and then went into business with Richard. Once they were comfortable in that for a couple years, they decided to have more kids. We love responsible decisions!!! - Mickala ❤️

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Steve spent 12 hours unconscious, which would be more alarming if he hadn’t had worse before. At least this time he was in a hospital for it.

Or maybe that was worse.

His mom was by his side the moment he woke up, along with a pacing Dustin and half-asleep Robin.

“Mom? Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, honey!” Anne Harrington was a strong woman, a lawyer who didn’t take shit from anyone, only cried when Steve won his basketball championship and graduated high school. But here she was, sobbing against his hand tightly grasped in her own. “He’s with your brothers and sister. I didn’t want them to see you like this, honey. You almost died!”

Maybe that was true. He certainly felt like he almost died.

He felt Robin and Dustin staring at them, realized what his mom had said.

“Brothers?” Dustin asked, barely more than a whisper, from the foot of the hospital bed.

“Sister?” Robin asked, a yawn breaking out before she even finished asking.

There was a commotion outside the door, he could hear his father’s voice trying to stay calm as he spoke, but knew he was frustrated.

Then he heard a loud cry and his heart broke.

“Was that Bethany?” Steve croaked, his eyes watering at the wails his three year old sister was letting out.

Anne looked at the mostly closed door, nodding as she turned back to Steve in the bed.

“They’ve been begging to see you since this morning. They wouldn’t stop begging to come, so your dad compromised and said they could sit in the waiting room until you woke up, but they’ve been sitting there for two hours. You know how they get.”

He did. He knew that any compromise they’d agreed to was going to work to their benefit in the end because they were all much too clever for their ages.

Suddenly, the door shot open and his eight year old brother, James, stood there with wide eyes. His five year old brother, Ryan, stood behind him, bouncing on his feet so he could try to see.

His father appeared behind them, holding Bethany in his arms, and looking like he wished he could be anywhere else.

But that look disappeared when he saw that Steve was awake.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, son,” he said, a choked noise making its way from his throat like he would have sobbed if the kids weren’t there.

He could feel the confusion coming from Robin and Dustin, but now wasn’t the time to explain any of it.

“Hey kiddos. You guys okay?” Steve rasped out, giving a small smile to all his siblings.

James and Ryan ran to his bed, climbing onto it carefully when Anne snapped her fingers at them and told them to go slow so they didn’t hurt their brother.

“Down, daddy! Wanna see Steve!” Bethany was kicking her legs and trying to push away from Richard, who sighed and let her down.

She ran to the bed, ignored the warning to go slow, and piled into Steve’s lap.

It hurt, but she was so small, and Steve could deal with some discomfort if it meant she could see he was okay.

“Steve, you have boo-boos!”

He patted her always messy hair, and gave her the best smile he could muster.

“Just a few. I’m gonna get all better soon, though. The doctors just had to put some bandaids on them.”

“Are they Barbie bandaids?”

“Of course they aren’t, Bethany. They’re big and have to be wrapped,” James said.

Steve gripped James’ hand in his.

James was going through a phase of wanting to seem older than he was, which was normal, but he took a lot of it out on Bethany. Bethany could certainly hold her own, and often did, but they were all emotional and under a lot of stress at this moment, so Steve stepped in.

“Buddy, let’s just take it easy today, okay? It’s okay to be scared, but so is Bethany and she’s little, so we have to be patient. Like we talked about, remember?”

“What is happening right now?” Dustin asked, still standing awkwardly at the end of his bed.

“Um. Dustin, Robin, this is Bethany, James is to my left, and Ryan is to my right. These are my brothers and sister.”

“You have siblings.”

It wasn’t a question, but Steve could hear the disbelief in Dustin’s tone.

“I do.”

“You never mentioned them?” Robin asked as she looked at where Richard and Anne were now whispering in the corner of the room.

“It just never really came up?”

“Uh. Okay.”

“Who are these people?” Ryan asked as he turned his face into Steve’s arm, always more shy than his other siblings.

“That’s my best friend, Robin, and Dustin. I used to babysit him and now he’s like another brother.”

“But we’re your brothers,” James said, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Of course. But there’s plenty of room to have Dustin around, too. He’s awesome. He can teach you D&D!”

Bethany was curling up against his chest, at least being more careful now that she’d seen his injuries up close. Ryan was shuffling closer to his side, burying his head under his arm like he did on their family movie nights when he was getting tired but didn’t want anyone to know. James was still tense, jealous.

“Did he teach you D&D?”

“Nah. I told you it’s too complicated for me.”

“Did I hear someone say D&D?” Eddie peeked his head through the door, grin lighting up the room.

“Eddie!” Dustin exclaimed.

“Looks like Steve’s got a whole party in here! Are we playing or what?”

Eddie walked into the room completely, smiling until he realized that Steve’s parents were here.

They got together during chaos; they didn’t have time to talk about logistics, about what Steve’s parents knew about him, if they would even be okay with him.

He’d briefly mentioned his siblings to Eddie when they were getting weapons ready, but didn’t talk much about anything else.

“Eds, these are my parents, Richard and Anne,” Steve introduced them, winking at his mom when she gave him a questioning look.

He’d been out to his parents for months, accidentally letting slip that he’d gone on a date with a guy on their Christmas vacation. They took it well overall, the shock making it seem like they were upset, but they were just confused about why he’d only ever brought home girls.

“Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bulged out of his head when he realized what Steve was doing.

“Ew, a boyfriend?” James, already back to his previous attitude, curled his lip up in disgust.

He looked so like Steve sometimes, it was alarming. If they were out running errands together, people often assumed he was his son.

“James! Watch your tone!” Anne said as she reached out a hand to shake Eddie’s. “It’s lovely to meet you, Eddie. I assume you’re the one who helped carry Steve to safety?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So polite. Who would’ve thought Steve found someone so nice?” Richard said with a smirk and a wink at Steve.

“Are you in love?” Bethany asked as she watched Eddie from her spot against Steve’s chest.

Steve could feel his face heat up, watched as Eddie’s face went red and he looked down at the floor.

“We care about each other a lot, B,” Steve replied, hoping she would drop it.

“But he saved you! Like a princess!”

Eddie let out a small laugh as he got closer to the bed and sat down on the edge.

“Well, you look like a princess, too. What’s your name?” He asked, glancing up at Steve for a moment to make sure it was okay he sat there. Steve nodded once.

“Beffany.”

“Princess Bethany? Of Loch Nora?”

Bethany looked at Anne to confirm, nodding as soon as her mom gave her a thumbs up.

Eddie stood back up, bowed, and then sat down again.

“It’s an honor to be in your presence, your highness.”

“Are you a knight?” she asked as she scooted away from Steve’s chest and off his lap, climbing her way into Eddie’s.

Ryan was even pulling away slightly to watch what was going on.

“I wish! I haven’t been through all of my training yet. Maybe you could help me?”

“What kinda trainin’?” Bethany started playing with his hair, but Eddie didn’t stop her, wanted her to feel comfortable while Steve recovered.

“I need to learn my royal etiquette. Do you think you can show me?”

“Yes! We have lessons!”

“Great!” Eddie beamed at her. “Maybe you can give me lessons when your brother goes home?”

“Mommy! Can Eddie come play?”

“Of course. But not today. Steve has to keep resting here for a couple days and I think Eddie probably wants to be here for him.”

“Okay. I stay too?”

“No, baby. We have to let Steve rest some more. We can come back to visit tomorrow.”

Steve felt Ryan and James cling to his arms when they realized that meant they were all leaving.

“But Robin and Dustin are staying!” James was jealous. He loved spending time with Steve, thrived on being considered “mature” enough to run errands with him when their parents were busy, helping him with chores because he was the only one big enough.

Dustin was a threat to his time with Steve, even at eight he could tell.

“Actually, I passed Dustin’s mom on the way here and she was coming to get him soon to go home. He hurt his ankle and shouldn’t even be walking around right now,” Eddie said, eyes squinting in Dustin’s direction like they’d already discussed this once.

“And I have to get home to my parents so they don’t worry. Maybe you can walk me to the bus stop and keep me safe?” Robin asked, somewhat awkwardly.

She didn’t know how to talk to kids, but it was a valiant attempt.

And it seemed to work.

James perked up at the thought of helping in a big kid way.

“Oh, darling, we can drop you off at your house on our way home,” Anne said. “I’ll take you and James can walk with us so we aren’t alone. Right, James?”

James nodded vigorously.

“I’ll protect you. And then we can come back tomorrow to see if Steve’s better.”

Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Ryan’s head, smiling when he realized he fell asleep at some point during the conversation.

“He barely slept last night. I’ll carry him. Hopefully now that he’s seen you’re alive and okay he can rest,” Richard said with a sad smile.

“If you bring them all tomorrow morning, I can help them make character sheets for D&D,” Eddie suggested.

“Yes! Please, dad! Can we?” James bounced in the bed, jostling everyone a bit.

Steve hissed in pain, but tried to cover it with a smile when James looked at him with an apologetic look.

“Sure. If you promise to sleep tonight and eat breakfast in the morning, we can come back.”

“I promise!” James poked Ryan. “Ryan! Promise you’ll sleep tonight and have breakfast in the morning so we can come play D&D!”

Ryan blinked a few times, nodded, then snuggled back into Steve’s side.

As Richard and Anne worked on gathering the kids and Robin and Dustin walked out with them, Steve relaxed in the hospital bed, finally feeling most of his injuries.

He knew they would give him more pain meds if he asked, but he wanted a few minutes with Eddie first.

“Hey.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said as he took his hand in his own, gently squeezing as he made himself comfortable on the side of the bed.

“Thanks for being so cool with them,” Steve let his eyes close for a moment as he took in every wound on his body.

He knew this was a close one, could tell by the way Eddie was looking at him a moment ago.

“You never told anyone else about them?”

Steve shook his head.

“Didn’t really need to. I figured they’d all meet eventually. Just never came up before.”

“Want me to get the nurse?” Eddie could tell he didn’t want to talk about it right now, so he changed the subject quickly.

“In a minute. Wanna kiss you.”

“Oh yeah? Come kiss me then.”

Steve opened one eye and started pouting.

“You come kiss me,” Steve said.

“Fine. But only because you’re hurting.”

Eddie leaned down to press his lips against Steve’s softly, a comfort as much as a promise for more when he was better.

“You’ll stay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just gonna get the nurse and grab a snack from the machine down the hall and then I’m all yours for the night.”

“Can’t wait to feel better.”

“I know. Maybe next time you won’t try to be a hero, hm?”

“No, I don’t care about the pain or anything.”

“Then…”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie choked. “Are you always like this or are there still some drugs in your system?”

“Dunno. Never felt like this with anyone else.”

“Stevie…”

“You’re good with them. Especially Bethany. She’s a lot. But you did good. Good for my nuggets.”

Steve was slowly losing consciousness and Eddie couldn’t help the fond smile creeping up on his face.

“They seem like good gremlins. They sure love you a lot,” Eddie whispered.

“Mhm. Love you.”

“Oh. I don’t think they know me well enough to love me yet, sweetheart, but that’s nice of you to say,” Eddie scrambled to get out, his heart flipping over in his chest at the thought that that wasn’t what Steve meant.

“No.” Steve opened his eyes, staring right at Eddie. “I do. I love you.”

It was crazy. Probably a product of his injuries, exhaustion, and drug cocktail in his system. He probably thought he loved him, but they’d only just gotten together officially.

“Eds. It’s okay. I’m just lettin’ you know how I feel. You don’t have to say it back.”

“I just. I. I think I love you too. I just don’t see how you love me.”

“‘S easy.”

Just that easy.

Like Steve would have said it whether he was in the hospital or not.

—------------

The next morning, James, Ryan, and Bethany planted themselves on Steve’s bed while Eddie explained character sheets to them.

Steve watched with a smile as all of his siblings watched Eddie in awe.

His family meant the world to him, and Eddie did too. He wanted things to always be like this.

When Eddie smiled at him over James’ shoulder a while later, he thought that maybe they would be.

[wondersinwaynemanor]

Dick finding excuses just to get hugs from his sister and brothers.

Dick groans loudly: Ow, Ow.

when Jason looks up at him from across the couch in the Manor library, Dick closes his eyes

Jason chuckles because he catches this: What's wrong, Dickface?

Dick opens his one eye, pouting at Jason: I already told you I broke my arm, Wiing.

which is true, but his arm has gotten better already. nevertheless, he continues his drama.

Jason: Want me to get you anything for the arm?

Dick opens both of his eyes now, grinning like an idiot: If we sit beside each other, I'm sure I'll feel better.

Jason: You are such a boy scout, Goldie.

Jason stands up with the book on his hand and sits beside Dick which is still far for Dick's liking.

Dick scoots closer to Jason, their arms hitting. after a few seconds, Dick leans even closer and glances at the book that Jason is reading, purposely nudging Jason's arm.

Dick: Watcha reading, Little Wing?

Jason scoffs but he smiles: I know what you're doing, Dick.

Dick: Which is?

Jason: Sheesh, Dickie. If you want a hug, just let me know.

Dick: You're so smart, Little Wing!

Dick wraps his good arm around Jason, trying his very best, with his one arm and with Jason's large frame.

Jason rolls his eyes as he wraps both of his large arms around Dick, carefully avoiding his broken arm.

Dick ends up sleeping with his head on Jason's shoulder. Jason continues to read until Dick would wake up to avoid disturbing his older brother's rest.

Does Dick need to keep pulling out the broken arm strategy? Yes.

Dick: Ow. Ow. *pretends to sniffle and looks at Tim who is at the batcomputer typing something*

Tim turns his chair around: Hey. That arm really hurting, huh?

Dick pouts: Very much so, Timmy. I can't even scratch my back.

Tim takes a sip from his coffee mug before walking to Dick: I got it.

Dick bites his lips to avoid from smiling. This dork doesn't even need his younger brother to scratch his back, but he's so extra.

Tim reaches for Dick's back and before he knows it, Dick is leaning forward and puts his chin on the top of Tim's head.

Dick: Thank you, Baby Bird.

Tim smiles because he knows what Dick is doing. Tim wraps his arms fully around Dick's waist, giving a warm hug to his older brother. Dick hugs back.

Tim: Like I said, I got you, Dick.

Dick: You always do.

Dick peers at the entrance of the dancing room in the Manor, where Cass is currently practicing her routine for her ballet presentation next week.

when Cass is done with a routine, Dick is grinning widely and clapping loudly.

Dick: Wow! Well done, Cass.

Cass bashfully smiles and motions for Dick to come in.

Dick: Are you done practicing for today?

Cass nods.

Dick: Are you tired already? Maybe you can teach me a few steps.

Cass raises her brow : You dance?

Dick: As long as it's with you.

Cass nods enthusiastically and she teaches Dick a few of the ballet moves, the simple ones, which are mostly twirling and such. And how is Dick an acrobat when he keeps falling on his butt? Was he doing this on purpose?

Cass laughs and offers an arm to Dick. Dick takes it and wraps his arm on Cass's back when he stands up.

Dick: Guess I'm clumsy on the dance floor.

Dick doesn't take his arm off Cass by the time they arrive at the door of her bedroom. Cass looks at Dick's arm and then at his face. Cass knows.

before entering her room, she hugs Dick and Dick automatically complies by tightly hugging back.

they were at the movie room, watching The Lion King when Damian received a text from Dick, who was just here a few minutes ago beside him. and the text was just a hug emoji? Damian wonders why the random text from his older brother.

after a few minutes, Dick re enters the movie room with popcorn and cookies and soda.

Damian: Why the random text, Richard?

Dick has the audacity to act oblivious: Huh? *he sits down beside his brother and offers the other container of popcorn* Oops, must be a wrong sent, Dami.

Damian leaves it be. Damian is already aware that Dick always pulls him close whenever they get to hang out, but he senses that the message was for him.

by the time the movie credits are rolling, Damian hugs his older brother because he knows. Dick is taken by surprise, but his heart is warm because he felt like hugging Damian tonight. if he's being honest, it's always.

Damian: Thank you for the movie, Richard.

Dick tightens his arms around his brother's little form: Thank you, Dami.

Damian: And I know the message was intended for me.

Dick laughs and pretends he doesn't know what his little brother is talking about.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36

Eddie’s heart thumps oddly once again, this time because Steve had used his name. He’d already become used to Eds. He ignores it and spreads his hands. “I’m willing to accept whatever you’ll give me,” he says quietly. “I’m still groveling, here, I’m not exactly in a position to be making demands.”

Steve smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes, and Eddie hates it. “That’s the thing, though. It’s complicated. I don’t know how to define it.”

Eddie hums. “We’re slightly to the left of best friends.”

Steve snickers. “That’s pretty spot-on, actually.”

Eddie shrugs and grins, feeling oddly proud of himself for figuring it out and making Steve smile.

They stand in silence for a minute until Alli pops her head out of the kitchen. “Are you two gonna kiss again? Or is now a good time to offer food?”

Steve snorts and pitches forward to rest his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder. “Al, you’re awful.”

“You love me,” she responds immediately, grinning at Eddie.

Eddie grins back and pokes at Steve’s arm. “She’s offering us food, Stevie, I’m inclined to say yes.”

Steve chuckles before leaning back to smile at Eddie. “Yeah, alright,” he decides, “I could eat.”

Eddie reaches out, links their hands, silently offers Steve an out.

He doesn’t take it, instead grips Eddie’s hand more surely, and something in Eddie’s chest settles.

They walk into the kitchen, hand-in-hand, and Steve grins and shakes his head when Alli starts cooing at them. “Yeah, okay,” he says, then, seemingly out of nowhere, “Hey, you should invite Cassidy over soon.”

Eddie looks between the siblings as they have a silent conversation mostly consisting of eyebrows and head tilts that ends with Steve grinning and Alli shaking her head, trying to hide a smile. “So,” Steve says, “what did you make?”

Alli chuckles and hops up backwards onto the counter by the stove. “Mac and cheese.”

“Ooh,” Steve says, instantly intrigued. He lets go of Eddie’s hand to peer into the pot. “With the good cheese?”

“With the good cheese,” Alli agrees.

Steve whirls around to grin at Eddie. “You’re gonna love this,” he says, “Alli makes the best mac and cheese.”

Eddie grins. “I dunno, Stevie, I think my uncle’s boxed mac might have her beat.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head as he gets three bowls out. He tilts his head towards a drawer. “There’s forks in there, can you grab some?”

Eddie does so, and just as they’re finishing serving themselves, someone opens the front door.

“Steve?” A voice calls. “You home?”

Steve sighs and puts his bowl down. “The little shit,” he mutters, moving out into the living room. “Dustin, what are you doing here?”

The answer is too quiet for Eddie to hear, so he eats his food and eyes Steve’s bowl. Alli laughs at him. “Don’t even think about it,” she says seriously, “Steve’s fought me for less.” Eddie gives her his best innocent who, me? look, and she grins at him. “Oh, you’re gonna be trouble. I like you.”

His grin turns smaller, shyer. “Thank you for not kicking my ass on sight, earlier,” he murmurs.

She grins and nudges his shoulder with her fist. “Steve’s tough. He doesn’t need me to protect him.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says, “but it’s still nice to have someone in your corner.”

“Oh,” she murmurs suddenly. “I forgot.”

Eddie’s brow furrows. “Forgot what?”

“The stories. ‘Bout why you’re here, in Forest Hills, ‘stead of wherever he is.”

She says he in a way that Eddie knows she knows exactly what’s meant by those two little letters. He swallows a lump. “Yeah,” he murmurs back. “‘S why I know.”

She smiles at him. “Your… uncle, right?”

Eddie smiles back. “Yeah. Wayne. He’s… he’s pretty great.”

Alli rests a hip on the counter. “Tell me about him?”

Stomach full of food, safe and warm and happy in this house, with the sound of his maybe-boyfriend scolding his pseudo-younger brother in the other room, Eddie grins and hops up onto the counter. “Gladly.”

Towards the end of his story, Steve comes huffing into the kitchen, making a beeline for the phone. He punches a number in and waits. “Hi, Mrs. Buckley,” he says politely. “Is Robin home?” He listens for a moment, says, “Okay, thank you,” and hangs up, turning to Eddie. “What’s your number?”

Eddie blinks before grinning, and Steve good-naturedly rolls his eyes. “Not like that, you ass,” he chuckles. Eddie relents and rattles off the numbers, and Steve punches those in before waiting again. “Hi, Mr. Munson,” Steve says. Eddie mouths the words and makes a face, and Alli snorts at him. “Is Robin there still?” A pause, then, “Ah,” as his cheeks pinken. “Yes, sir. He did.” Another few seconds later, “Hey. The little shit found Dart.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “That’s the thing, though, is it did help. He fuckin’ domesticated the thing.” A laugh, then, “well I’m not gonna tell him.” A squawk, “I am not his-” he cuts off abruptly and pulls the phone from his ear to frown at it. “She hung up on me!”

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[theemporium]

secret relationship with regulus pls !!

If someone told you that you were going to fall in love with Regulus Black, you would’ve laughed in their face. 

You knew about the Black family long before you went to Hogwarts, everyone in the Wizarding World did. The family was well-known for mostly wrong reasons and you had heard whispered rumours about just what sort of family they were. The things they did, the things they believed in. It was never a philosophy you ever thought you’d align yourself with.

When you enrolled in Hogwarts and were sorted into Gryffindor, it was shocking enough that you found yourself in a buddying friendship with one of the Black sons—though Sirius always was the anomaly, nothing quite like the rest of his family. 

He spoke about his family quite a lot. He would tell you about the kinds of things they’d say, the way they would sneer at him when he went home for the holidays. And the stories he told you were enough to confirm that outside of Sirius, there was a fat fucking chance you’d be civil with any of the other Black family members if you knew better. 

As it turns out, you clearly didn’t know better because by the time you reached 6th year, you somehow found yourself in a weird dynamic with none other than the younger Black brother. 

What happened to be unfortunate circumstances that put you together (younger students trying to pull a marauders-esque prank gone wrong that somehow led to you both in detention), it ended up being for the greater good that you were forced to spend the next few weekends with Regulus because it gave him a chance to show you that he wasn’t like what others or even his brother assumed. 

And whilst it took you a while to warm up to the younger Black and see past your prejudices, Regulus was quite the opposite. The boy was enamoured by you from the second he laid eyes on you and was honestly looking for any excuse he could to spend time near you. The detention just so happened to work out in his favour, and the rest was history. 

Well, not really. 

Because despite the fact Regulus—much like his brother—didn’t care about the Black morals and philosophy, he still didn’t want a target on your back. Things had been tense since Sirius practically ran away and tension was high in the house, pressure even more pressing on his shoulders. The last thing Regulus wanted was to drag you into the matter for his parents to use against him. 

It was why, for now, he wanted to keep your relationship a secret even if it killed him to have to wait until you were hidden in the shadows to kiss you. 

“What I would give to kiss you like this every day whenever I please,” Regulus whispered against your lips, lips drawn in a soft smile as he continued to peck your lips as you giggled against him. 

“You’d be insatiable,” you muttered in faux annoyance but the thought made your heart swell nonetheless. “I would never get away from you.” 

His hands tightened their grip on your waist. “Is that such a problem?” 

“Hm, maybe I’m sick of you, Black,” you teased playfully, fingers playing with the messy black curls at the name of his neck. 

“Yeah?” His voice was low and husky, breath fanning over your heated skin as he dipped down to press a feather-soft kiss on your pulse point. “It’s funny hearing you try to act all nonchalant when I know for a fact you’d let me ravish you on this sofa if I wanted, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched. “And do you want to ravish me?” 

“Hm,” the boy hummed, dark eyes glimmering with amusement and his lips twitching upwards as he pulled you towards him, destroying any distance between your bodies as you fell onto his lap. And his smirk only widened when you let out a soft gasp at the bulge in his trousers. “Take a fucking guess, sweetheart.” 

“Guess you really missed me,” you breathed out with a small laugh, hooded eyes focused on the way he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. 

“Like a fucking hole in my chest,” he muttered before leaning forward to kiss you, hands holding you down on his lap as he made up for the lost time between your meetings. 

And maybe, just maybe, one day you wouldn’t have to wait weeks in between your nights with him.

.

[coff-in]

Coff-in please elaborate on your normal younger sister who looks up to Ashley and jealous sulky Andrew thoughts!! Your brain is so big I actually wanna kiss it!!!

-Devious Anon <3

notes from coff-in: eheh :3c it was mostly just a concept (my brain doesn't always create full pictures. like, it was a sketch than i painting, you know?) but expanding upon it would help me practice fleshing out ideas. sometimes i just need to be prompted to talk more. thank you for asking about it though :D i'd be so blessed if you kissed my brain, devious anon <3

[fem] reader-insert, [afab] reader-insert, NSFW, incest

[reader] likes ashley more, ashley is like her mom. it was rocky at first, since leyley saw [reader] as a competitor for andy's attention. however, as they got older leyley realized that [reader] needed her as much as she needed andy. there was never any real reason to worry. [reader] would always need leyley to tell her about girls and their bodies, or to tell her the embarrassing things she couldn't tell andy because he was a boy, or share clothes with her because they're the same size and wear the girl clothes. and [reader] couldn't rely on any other girl to help her because they don't her like leyley does! [reader] and her are practically conjoined at the hip.

andy didn't mind this at first. it was nice watching leyley lead [reader] around-- even though leyley still had to refer to andy about how to do things. he did feel a little jealous that you were so attached to her, but it's fine. he still saw you once you got home, and helped you with your homework, and slept in the same bed as you at night, so it's fine. the sulkiness really started to kick in once they all got to middle/high school.

ashley did her best to keep away any friends [reader] would've had and andrew kept away any people who tried to date [reader]. he would be more... physically protective of [reader] now. a hand grasping hers, or around her shoulders, or on the middle of her back; just to help ward off other and comfort (himself) her. he'd try to get [reader] into some of his favorite subjects or topics just so they could have something to talk to each other about.

he likes it when [reader] seeks him out. it does happen, though she does seek ashley out first. one time [reader] had a nightmare about school and couldn't sleep, so she went to andrew to help her. "you have nightmares sometimes, right? could... could you help me with mine?" of course, he said, and tucked her into his arms in his bed. holding her tightly against him, maybe he'd inhale the smell of her hair. he'd realize that he'd want this more. he wanted her to seek him out, cause he's her big brother too. it's not always about ashley.

freaky thought: he has a dream that he teaches [reader] how to masturbate. he finds her one night after coming home late in their bedroom, grinding on one of his pillows in his bed. she's trying so desperately to get off but she just can't, she doesn't know how. she's so frustrated, tears welling up in her eyes as she clothes clit against his pillow, taking deep greedy inhales of his scent on his sheets. andrew just stands in the doorway for a bit, not knowing what to do... he should tell her to stop. this is gross, it's wrong, it's immoral... but she looks so beautiful like that. desperate, horny-- she needs his help, his guidance.

he'd sneak up from behind her and then place his hand on her back, making her jump. he'd chuckle and lean down to her ear, "what do you think you're doing, hm?" [reader] would be so embarrassed about getting caught, burying her face into his sheets. dressed in an oversized shirt and wearing nothing else but her now drenched panties. "have we not been taking good care of you? or maybe you needed my help specifically?" he'd pull [reader] against his chest and dip a hand down to remove her underwear. he'd brush his fingers against her throbbing clit, teasing it from its hood. "let your big brother show you how to please yourself."

he'd soak up all her moans and mewls as he makes her watch him finger her pussy. he doesn't care about the mess they're making, or about getting caught (by ashley or his mom)-- he just focuses on pleasing his baby sister. kissing her flushed cheek, maybe leaving a love bite on her neck...

once he wakes up, he can't look at [reader] the same.

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coff-in