#and yes yes i'm sure winter will be rough

[soulmvtes]

maybe it's because there's an autumn chill in the air despite the sun but i am suddenly overcome with an excitement for golden september and the changes of the season

[messenger-of-babel]

Nightmares

Summary: The Wayne family calls you in When they can't snap Tim out of it. (Tim Drake x reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: Tim is my fav as Robin ❤️ Yes, I did read the Hush arc. People are oddly divided if Jason really did try to kill Tim which is an argument for a later day, but it'd still mess with anyone regardless so shhhhh. Enjoy xx

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It was hardly ever that you were contacted by the Wayne residence, so when you got a call one Friday evening, a cold ball began forming in your stomach. With a surprised stutter you responded that you were still at the Gotham University library, studying up for your finals. Before you even got a chance to ask what was going on, Alfred kindly let you know that he was going to be picking you up before the receiver went dead.

Unsure of what to do, you shifted from foot to foot outside of the library. The night was cold for Spring, the coattails of winter still wrapped around the city. As you fidget you try to think of any reason that they would be calling you. After all, you and Tim had only been dating for eight months or so. In those eight months you had visited the manor maybe twice, much less met his family. Tim had dragged you through the hallways as soon as you hit the foyer, hurrying you to his room so fast that you could only exchange a surprised glance with the members he passed. You could only think of the worst scenarios, minutes stretching for eternity as you trapped yourself inside your mind.

What if they hated you dating Tim? You weren't from an affluent family like they were, growing up in a poor area of Robinson Park. You got into Gotham U on a scholarship, which was how you both had met in the first place. What if they looked down upon that and were going to threaten you to break up with him? If they ever chose to, they certainly would have the power and sway to. Hell, they could chase you out of Gotham entirely and no one would be the wiser. You thought of all these ideas, just to distract yourself from the underlying thought that sat like an unwelcome visitor int he back of your mind.

The little thought that whispered over and over again, 'What if something has happened to Tim?'

The Wayne car rolling to a stop in front of you was enough to snap you out of your worrying, making the ball in your stomach only grow heavier. The visage of Pennyworth, the butler, appears from the driver’s side. He gives you a small, tight, smile and exits the car, opening the back as you descend the stairs.

"After you, dear."

You hesitantly poke your head in as he waves his hand politely to the open door, blood draining from your face. You had expected the car to be empty, but as you studied the shadows it was very clearly not the case. The sturdily built man in front of you had his arm propped up on the window, chin in his palm. His deep blue eyes glinted from the shadows he seemed to melt into, rough timbre floating your way. "Come in."

You anxiously shuffle into the seat, leaving a space between you and the enigmatic Bruce Wayne. There's a tense silence as Alfred gets into the driver’s side and starts the car, headed to the Manor once more. You shuffle in your seat, pulse thudding against your neck.

"It's nice to meet you." you say, clearing your throat awkwardly. The icy eyes of the billionaire flick to you, scanning you up and down.

"And same to you." he says smoothly, staring back out the window with a rich indifference. "I'm sure you know why we called you?"

"Actually, I don't sir." you say gently, fiddling with your fingers. They gave you nothing to work off of, how could they expect you to know what was happening?

"It's about Tim." he says, and your heart flips.

"Is he okay?" falls out before you can even temper your voice properly.

"He's…in a difficult space right now." Bruce hums back at you, worry creasing at the corner of his eyes. "He won't work with any of us, won't come out. We thought that maybe you could help. Actually, Dick recommended we call you."

Dick Grayson. The only brother you had met, albeit only briefly. He had been passing through for a charity event and had come to ask Tim a question, ducking his head inside the bedroom. Tim had gone to get snacks, leaving you to nervously explain who you were. When you mentioned that you were dating Tim, a wide smile had split the older man's face. He'd promptly introduced himself, stepping inside and shaking your hand. Tim had chased him out soon after he arrived back, the elder brother's laughing echoing down the halls long after Tim had shut and locked the door.

"Is it bad?" you whisper out, fists curling on your knees.

"He's alive and physically uninjured, if that's what you're asking. Now, what I'm about to tell you is confidential. You tell anyone, and I mean anyone," Bruce's eyes flash dangerously. "Then there will be severe consequences."

When you nod his shoulders drop slightly, and he uncoils. You had always been intimidated by the man and the sheer power he wielded, but you didn't take him for someone to be so fiercely protective. There was something in his eyes that flickered when he stared you down, a scarred over wound that re-opened at the thought of you harming his family.

"I promise." you say, rising to match Bruce's tone. "I just want to help Tim."

The answer settles the wary father next to you, relaxing back into his seat.

He fills you in, dread filling your stomach more and more. He explains how they've been a target of a terrorist attack, Tim getting caught in the crossfire. The story seems wild and something in the back of your mind gets the impression he isn't telling you everything, but you remind yourself that this is Gotham, and being a rich family paints a rather large target.

"Fear gas?" you whisper, eyebrows furrowed. "I thought Batman put the Scarecrow in Arkham."

Bruce bites his knuckles but nods. "Yeah, that is what I thought too. So, we're suspecting it's either a lackey of his, or the Bat isn't as thorough as he appears." he grunts, teeth relenting their assault so he can cross his arms. "Masked annoyance." he mutters, his nose crinkling.

"How can I help?" you ask, adrenaline rushing through your veins in a mild cocktail of panic.

"Talk to him. get him to come out. We've had a doctor look him over and he'll be fine, he got out of the gassed room in time. His mental is just a bit…fragile, right now. He won't accept comfort from us. Some of us can't even get close. So, we thought you might be able to try." Bruce studies you closely. "We want to deal with this before press come snooping. It'll only affect his social life if this gets out before he's had a chance to recover, so I must reiterate the importance of your silence. This is a family matter; we will deal with it as such."

you nod along, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yes, sir."

"But do not take it to heart if my son doesn’t recognise you." he says firmly. "He isn't himself right now. This isn't a reflection on your or your relationship."

You want to ask about how much he knew about your relationship, but as you open your mouth you're cut off by the voice of Alfred. "We're here, sir."

The car rolls to a stop, and Alfred opens Bruce's door and then yours. The manor is imposing, but you don't get long to look at it before you're ushered away. You're walked to the door of Tim's bedroom; except this time your arm is being led by the sympathetic smile of Pennyworth. He leaves you in peace, and it's never felt more imposing knocking on your boyfriend's door than now.

"Tim?" you call softly, rapping your knuckles against the richly coloured wood. "Are you in there? Can I come in?"

There's no response, making worry knot up in your chest. "I'm coming in, okay?" you call out, hand hesitantly turning the brass knob and opening the door just enough so you can slip inside.

It's dark, only moonlight illuminating the scene before you. His bedsheets have been ripped from the mattress, pillows scattered around. Drawers were open haphazardly, contents spilled across the tiled floor. Your heart lurched spying the sheer curtains that fluttered in front of the open bay windows, worrying that he might have gone out there despite the drop. It calms slightly when you spy him, huddled under the desk. You approach as if regarding a cornered animal, concern twitching in your fingers. The desk was devoid of any objects, swiped clear by a frenzied arm. The drawers were open and empty, content spilled around him.

"Hey, Tim." you say, crouching to him under the desk. He looks a mess, face pressed tightly into his knees. He's curled into a ball, arms tucked under his torso, resting on the front of his thighs. "it's me." your murmur, reaching out gently. "it's just me."

He jumps as your fingers lightly brush against his arm, face snapping up. His eyes are puffy and red rimmed, cheeks stained with tears. His hair is tousled and messy, falling over the shaking of his blue irises. The sight pangs painfully in your heart, and when he no longer pulls away from your touch, your hand slowly circles his wrist. He leans into your touch, body trembling as you pull him towards you. When you manage to get him in a hug you can feel the rapid beating of his heart, the shaky and quickened breaths that he draws into his lungs.

"Please don't hurt me." he whispers, shattering your heart. You look at him wide eyed, gently tilting his face to meet yours.

"Why on earth would I do that?" you breathe out, confusion on your face. His eyes are watery and far away, lips trembling. "I'd never do that, Tim. you know that."

"Please don't leave." he chokes out. "Please. Please don't leave. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone again, I'll work harder, I’ll be smarter, I'll do better." he reassures frantically, pupils shifting rapidly. "I'll do enough this time. I'll meet your expectations. Just don't go."

Your mouth drops and there's nothing that you can say for a few moments. "Oh, Tim…" you breathe out. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? absolutely nowhere." you murmur gently. "And you don't need to promise that. You do enough, hell, you do so much. You do so much more than meet expectations, Tim. You surpass them in every way."

he shakes his head at your comforting, hair flopping in front of his eyes.

"I saw them." he mumbles, although you aren’t sure if it is to himself or to you. "They were just here, I saw them.'

"Who?" you ask softly, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks.

"My parents." he mumbles back out. "I saw them. they were here. They said... They said things..."

You sigh.

Bruce had told you that the effect of the gas made people see things, vivid hallucinations conjured up to torture them. You just hadn't been able to comprehend how deep in someone's mind the fear gas was able to pull from. "And there was Jason." he chokes out. "I never meant to replace him, but he wouldn't listen, and then I felt it all over again." he stammers out, spare hand coming to trace along his throat softly. "But Jason turned into Damian, and then he pushed me and I was falling again. I'm not a real son, I'm not a real replacement I'm-"

"Stop." you command, unable to hold your own tears back at his words. You had no idea what he was saying. Jason and Damian hurting him? Tim complained lightly about his brothers at times, but he had equal amount of compliments to give them back (even if they were begrudging). It had to be the toxin messing with his mind, distorting the images he kept conjuring up.

"Tim, your brother's love you." you say. "Bruce loves you, Alfred loves you, I love you. So please," your whisper, hands holding his face. "Please, wake up, Timmie."

His pupils dilate rapidly as he peers up at you, and you can see him struggle to focus. "Please," you plead again softly. "Please come back. Trust me. You're safe."

Water spills over his lash line and his lips curl into a sob, but his body relaxes. He unfurls from the foetal position, absent rocking of his body coming to a slow halt.

"That's it," you breathe out. "Nice and easy, just take a deep breath."

When he relaxes enough for you to crawl under the desk with him, you do, his arms circling your waist as you pull his head forward to rest on your shoulder. He turns and buries his face in your neck, hot tears streaking down your skin as he sobs. "I couldn't dodge it in time…" he weakly says, hands shaking. "If I had dodged I wouldn't be seeing this. I'm supposed to be…I'm supposed to be faster than that…"

Your lips frown at the despair in his voice. From his tone it seems like he was slowly becoming more lucid, but you still had no idea what he was on about. With a few gentle encouragements you get his frantic murmuring to cease completely, fight draining out of him. You can feel the effects wearing off him as time passes, and you hate to imagine what the toxin must have done to him at full strength. You just run a comforting hand through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and occasionally shushing him. When you tilt your head to kiss the top of his head, your eyes narrow in on the piece of paper that had fluttered from his lap.

It had been obscured when he was curled up, pressed to his chest. now that he had begun to relax it had slipped out, landing face up. It was a photo of you, taken in black and white. He had gotten a new camera for his birthday and wanted to try it out, so he brought it to the library the next time you both met up to study together. You were looking up at the camera, smiling softly as the light from the window filtered in behind you. Your eyes follow the curve of your grin to the way your eyes crinkle joyfully as you gaze in his direction. The corners are rolled and creased from the toying of his fingers, and you softly reach out to pick it up.

His arms tighten around you as you move to retrieve it, making you rub his back comfortingly. "I'm not going anywhere." you say softly, pulling the picture back towards you. "I promise," you whisper, looking at yourself in the photo he had been cradling so reverently before you came. "I'm not going anywhere, ever."

And you intended to keep that promise before anything like this happened again.

[wednesdaynn]

nightmares and dreams

KINKTOBER 2024

A/N: day 2 has only begun and i'm already feeling like i'm behind in this challenge... hoping to finish day 3 today and make a start at day 4 but who knows... enjoy (also yes, weirder ones are going to come)

summary: bucky's mind has been plagued with nightmares for years, his mind is his biggest enemy. the only remedy is a good dream, especially one with you in it.

warnings: everything really, unprotected sex, p in v, cunnilingus, daydreaming, etc...

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

kinktober: Frottage, Sexual Frustration, Virginity

As of late, every night seems to be the same for Bucky. He finds himself wandering through the corridors of the headquarters. carrying his, what feels like, weightless body towards the kitchen. Late at night when the moon is bright and the stars shine. His nightmares plague him constantly. 

the memories of the past, his past. reliving every waking moment. Friends, foe’s and sometimes he can’t even tell which is which. They all feel the same. reckless and deafening, the screams that he hears, the things the winter soldier did, the things he did. 

His routine is always the same. The nightmares wake him, he screams, he wakes up breathless. panting like crazy he tries to assess the situation around him. counting five red things, 4 pieces of furniture, 3 things he should clean, 2 items of clothing, and 1 thing that reminds him of his current life. It's what his therapist taught him. 

he tries to ground himself back to reality. and when he feels calmed enough he throws the blanket off of him and wakes his way to his dresses, putting on some clothes.

walking into the kitchen, goes to pull out a stool at the kitchen-island and sits down. The eeriness of the still kitchen calms him down. steel and slate. but a noise in the distance makes him turn his head towards the entrance of the kitchen. soft padding of feet and rustling of clothes. He hears quiet breaths and sweet humming.

walking into the kitchen is you, with fuzzy socks on your feet. 

adorable. 

you hadn't noticed his presence in the kitchen, unlike him, you weren’t that good at hearing noises. too tired to pay attention to your surroundings, your pounding headache distracting you from anything happening around you. but the moment you enter the kitchen, you hear a rough sounding cough. looking up, you’re met with bucky, a shirtless bucky. 

hot. 

It came to no one's surprise that you had a slight crush on the super soldier, on slightly. The man was built by the gods, handcrafted to be perfected. His chest was toned, his thighs were thicker than a tree trunk and big biceps you’d love to squeeze. He doesn’t like hearing it, but that metal arm, god damn, gave you butterflies in your stomach. 

He was a sweetheart and a gentleman to anyone he met, or at, everyone he liked. Polite to men, charming to women and hilariously clumsy but sweet to kids, making them laugh.  

This little crush on him you had developed didn’t go unnoticed by your best friend, your support and confidant, Sam. This man teased you until you were a blubbering mess, all hot cheeks and stuttering words. short breaths and embarrassed smiles. due to Sam being no to subtle about his teasing, this puts you in rather uncomfortable situations. 

And though he swore he only did to make you confess to the super soldier, telling you that it was worth a try seeing as, according to him, Bucky also had a crush on you. you couldn’t quite believe him, your insecurities getting the best of you. you were skeptical, the signs were there but choosing to ignore them was easier than getting your hopes up. 

He’d stare at you for long periods of time, looking away when your gazes met. He'd go out of his way to make sure he talks to you everyday. always secures a spot next to you at outings, or makes sure you're in the same car. trying his best to always hang out with you. and in those moments, a fleeting feeling came, of him maybe seeing you in the same way. 

And maybe for once Sam was right. 

so when he looks up and meets your eyes, heat runs through your body. burning up your cheeks. your gaze drops down to his half dressed figure, his bare chest with his dogs tags hanging from his neck, resting right on his pecks. there's a sheen on his skin, left from sweat. It doesn’t take much for you to figure out why he’s up in the middle of the night again. You want to make a comment about it, concerned for him, but when you looked up at his face again, he was smirking at you. having caught you staring at him.

Bucky on the other hand has no shame in checking you out. The baggy sleep shirt that you’re wearing barely reaches your mid thigh, showing off your soft legs. The cold wind in the room makes goosebumps rise up on your skin. Your perky breast showing through the thin material and your nipples hardened through it. 

the more he paid attention to your sleeping attire, he noticed that the shirt didn’t belong to you, but sam. he inhales sharply, jealousy taking him over. there's a burning in the back of his mind. he knows he shouldn’t be, you and Sam were like siblings, havin’ taken care of each other for years. 

He just wished that shirt would be replaced with his, and not Sam's. that instead of borrowing one of his when you get too cold, you’d reach for him in the middle of the night. warming up with his body heat. He knows how cold you get in at night and he always runs warm with the serum. that in the morning you’d walk around the bed, naked, and pick his shirt up off of the floor, to wear around the compound. showing everybody what you had done the night before. 

That you had been panting and chanting. shouting his name for hours on end. how you were lying beneath him, your eyes rolling back from the pleasure being given to you. reaching for anything that could stabilize you, help you stay grounded. gripping the sheets beneath you, holding tight onto his biceps, leaving scratches behind on his back, your hands crawling into his hair and fisting it tightly. that you’d be covered in the bite marks he left on you that night. they’d know you’re his.

he speaks up eventually, asking you about why you’re up this late in the night. or early in the morning you could almost say. asking about how you’re doing, snapping back to reality when you groan out loud. He almost misses the way you mutter “bad headache…” barely paying attention to what’s coming out of your mouth. He's focused on your soft lips and the way they move when you talk. when you lick them afterwards. 

god

He wishes he could kiss those lips senseless. he would kiss you for hours and hours on end, both of your teeth clashing against each other with each rough movement. tongue’s tangling in every way, exploring your mouth and tasting you. soft pants coming out of both your mouths, you’d be breathless and hungry for more. He'd bite down on your lips, soft whines leaving your lips at his administration. pulling him back by the back of his neck. a hazy look set in your eyes, they’d be dilated fully, black taking over your colour filled with lust. He'd pull back and admire the state he’d leave you in. red and swollen lips, a string of saliva attaching you to each other.

His kisses would trail down to your jawline, leaving you pulling at him for more, covering yourself in him. up to your ear and sucking right on your sweet spot, making you gasp out loud. 

he’d pull away and admire you, the redness covering your neck and jaw, glistening from him. a dopey smile on your face. your breathing is uneven and your eyes looking at him with love. He reaches for your pajama shirt, pulling it over your arms and head, only to get it stuck, making you let out a soft giggle. the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. 

It had been so long for him since he last saw or even undressed a woman, and while his charm was still there and certain things you don’t unlearn, he felt slightly clumsy with his actions. He felt desperate for you. He'd attach his mouth back to your neck and kiss his way towards your clavicle bones, nipping at the skin and marking you up. he’d move down to your breast. he lets out a disgruntled groan, fumbling with the clasp of your bra on your back, impatient. 

it takes him a few seconds to get it off of you, your hands helping him and he throws you a sheepish smile, he knows he wouldn’t know how to take off these modern contraptions. he’d throw your bra god knows where in the room, leaving it for tomorrow to find. 

he’d throw all of his attention back on you and your soft breasts. gazing at your hardened nipples and the way they perk up due to the cold. and goosebumps cover the rest of your body, almost completely bare in front of him. he’d nip at the skin surrounding your nipples, and knead the other breast in his hand. 

he moves towards your nipple giving it a quick flick of his tongue, wetting it and making it shine with his spit. grazing his teeth over the sensitive nub. softly sucking on it, between his lips, occasionally nipping at it, making you arch your back at the painful but pleasurable feeling. the other nipple wouldn’t be left behind, he’d twist it between his forefinger and middle finger, twisting it and rolling it with his thumb. 

“please.” you’d whine beneath him, feeling your chest going up and down. but bucky isn’t that easy, he wants you to tell him exactly what you want. make you vocalize your wants. He wants you to tell him how to make you feel good. 

“that’s not enough, darling, tell me exactly what you need from me.” he blows onto your breast, the cold air making you lean into him more. another whine comes out of your mouth and you take a deep breath.

“i want you to fuck me, James. Please, need it so bad.” and god damn did you know how to beg for him, make him melt just with your words. He couldn’t keep someone as sweet as you waiting, maybe another time. He waited too long for this. 

he detaches his mouth from your breasts and kisses down your soft tummy, rubbing circles into your sides with his thumbs. making his way down towards your mound where his stubble tickles your skin. He'd look up at you from this position, making you feel heated all over. your neck feels like it’s burning and the feeling moves its way down towards your spine and to your core. 

he gets off on this, the way you look at him all needy. your eyes meeting his and you look so darling. the state you're in makes his dick harder than possible. you’re vulnerable in this state, but oh so trusting of him and he’d make sure it’s not in vain. 

he bites at the skin at the edge of your panties, before pulling them down ever so slightly with his teeth. He pulls them further down your legs with his hands, the cold metal of his arm gliding against your warm skin. a nice contrast. your panties are added to the slowly building pile of clothes in the room, joining your shirt and bra. 

He runs his nose along the crease where your thigh meets your mound, smelling your sweet skin, vanilla and linen, your body wash. He pushes your knees up and hooks them over his shoulder, your bare pussy spread open in front of him. He lets out a low moan at the smell, wanting, no needing, to completely devour you. 

his thumbs spread your lips to the side. ‘so pretty.” he licks a long stripe up to your clit. circling around it with his tongue. your body jerks with the sensation. grabbing a fistfull of his hair. He sucks on your clit, and drags a finger through the wetness, gathering it up and slipping one finger inside.

and oh god, you are so tight around his finger. you’re just so perfect. He'd start to slowly thrust his finger inside of you, while licking your clit. “God, baby, you’re so wet… s’all for me?” he hymns and it sends shudders all throughout your body. you respond to him with a desperate nod and push him deeper into your cunt. he adds another finger, spreading you open wider and scissoring his finger to prep you. 

he moans around your clit, sending vibrations up your whole body. “please, bucky.” he chuckles and adds a third finger and it makes your whole body jerk back. “God yes.” you thrust your hips forward yearning for more. and he lets you. driving his fingers into you harder, and you think you can see stars and he’s only using his fingers yet. 

he takes his mouth off of your pussy and moves upwards, leaning over you. He completely cages you in with his metal arm resting next to your body. 

Bucky admires your face. your eyes are all hooded as you stare up at him through your lashes. a sweet smile adornes your face as soft moans leave your lips, in rhythm with his fingers thrusting in and out of you. 

god, if you already feel so good from just his fingers you can’t imagine how his cock must feel. your eyes follow along his body down to his lower abs where the waist of his sweatpants start. he dick outlined clearly, probably not wearing any boxers

And dear god, he’s big.

You’re not sure how he’s supposed to fit but Bucky notices the hesitation on your face, his free hand rests itself on your hip. "I'll make it fit, babe." Giving it a reassuring squeeze. you bite your lip in response, nodding. he presses his lips to yours, fitting perfectly. your moans spilled into his mouth and a stuttered gasp left your mouth when he curled his finger hitting you right where you needed him to. 

He pushes and pushes. He curls his finger again and again. And then… he pulls away, completely. you look up at him confused at his actions and he just kisses you on your mouth. a soft peck, reassuring. his hands go to his sweatpants and he sits back up and stands at the edge of the bed, taking his sweatpants off in one go. 

before you even have time to admire his physique, he’s back on you. nosing at your neck and muttering sweet things into your neck. 

“I need you so badly.” and you know he means it. he’d take care of you so well. He'd worship you. He hooks your legs around his waist as he drags his hard cock through your folds, coating both of you in a mix of slick and pre-cum. 

"You ready?” you whisper a soft yes into his ear. He finds your whole and slowly pushes in. inch by inch. slowly but surely he’s filling you up. His eyes constantly look up at your face to make sure you’re still feeling okay. He makes sure to rest for a few minutes when he bottoms out inside of you, as difficult as it is for him. 

but when you push your feet into his lower back, pushing him into you completely, he slowly starts to move in and out. slowly, getting you used to the feeling of him filling you up.  He feels so content, here with you. 

both vulnerable in each other arms and-

“bucky? Are you okay?” your voice pulls him back to reality. to the kitchen, you in Sam's shirt. him sitting at the island. and a blush coats his cheek as he slowly pushes the stool further beneath the counter, blocking his hardness from your view. 

“yeah… I'm okay.” he mutters softly.

[pomefioredove]

I love you're writing!! Hope the exam went well!!!

Can you give us some good Ole cheesy, romantic, vil fluff??

I just want to kiss and cuddle him FOREVER

the vil love never ends on this blog. this turned out to be more sappy than anything. hope you enjoy nonetheless~!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ comfort

type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, established relationship, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, comfort & fluff

"Can you please come over?"

The words weigh on Vil's shoulders as he walks across campus. They're heavy.

It's dark, and the air is cold. You're probably shivering, you never dress warm enough-

He pushes the thought away. No use in stressing himself any more.

"I just don't want to be alone right now,"

Vil hadn't asked why. He had a thought. He didn't want it to be right, but he's always right.

His steps are faster. Damn the curfew. Rook can handle the dorm for a single evening. And morning. And day. However long it takes.

He lets himself in without knocking. "Prefect?" he calls for you in title first. "Sweetheart?" and in petname second.

It's dark inside Ramshackle. He pulls off his shoes and coat, and hurriedly makes his way upstairs. Your door is closed.

"Are you in there?"

He holds his breath until you answer. "...Yes,"

"May I come in?"

"...Yeah,"

Vil opens the door, mercifully unlocked, and lets himself in. It's dark in your room, too, but he can still make out the huddled shape of you in bed.

"Sweetheart, it's freezing in here," he says. "Are you cold?"

You say nothing. He sighs, momentarily catching the eye of Grim, nesting in your arms. The direbeast says nothing.

"How can I help?" he asks, eyes lingering on the strange position you've curled up in. "...May I touch you?"

You nod. Good, Vil thinks, and he gets in bed behind you. He and Grim make a sort of... you sandwich, the two on either side of your body. As soon as he's settled, though, Grim stretches and hops off the bed.

Vil takes that to mean, you've got it from here.

"Darling," he says, delicately stroking the side of your face. "Are you sick?"

You hesitate, but nod anyway. He knows what you mean. And his heart aches for you.

"That's alright. That's perfectly alright," Vil says, holding you close to his chest, his arms around your waist.

"I'm here. You're safe."

You mumble something against him. It's unintelligible, but he's sure you meant it to be.

"I'm not going anywhere, don't worry," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love you very, very much. Everything will be alright."

You're very quiet. It scares him, but he won't say that, not now. Now, he just needs you to feel better.

He pets you softly, playing with your hair. "My love, my darling. My favorite person in the entire world,"

You hum. He can feel your arms, now, wrapping around his waist, as if to get closer, seeking his warmth and comfort. It's everything to him.

"There," he whispers, kissing your head again. "Get some rest. I won't go anywhere, I'm here. I'm right here."

It's a little funny, he thinks. The only time he can excuse cutting his evening routine is when it's for you. On your rough, threadbare sheets, in a rickety bed, in a drafty house in the cold of winter.

He'll get you out of here, someday.

But for now, he holds you, and thinks of what he's going to make you for breakfast.

[knoxic]

Teasing and Loving

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Summary: smut, Eris being a simp, smut, emotional talk, smut

wc: 2,8k

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, trying for a baby (hinted at), oral (m and f receiving), cum eating, no beta

a/n: technically it was part of the How to be a High Lady series but it works better as a one shot imo

"Love?" Eris called out to her, pushing her office door far enough to fit his head in, at her nod he let himself in, closing the door behind him. "A letter arrived from Winter." He gently set the letter on her table, away from the other papers scattered around the place.

"Oh, what did they want?" She looked up from the book she was studying, catching the amused grin he tried to hide.

"I don't know, it's for you." He slid the letter closer to her as if to make a point.

"Ah, I'm still getting used to receiving letters like this..." She felt slightly embarrassed but brushed it off, she closed the book carefully and placed it aside before picking up the letter. Eris had made his way around her table and was leaning against it by her side, watching her every move.

"Hello, fellow High Lady! I was hoping we could spend some girl's time together, perhaps while our males discuss some court business, let them handle all the work for a while, now that we are allies, they ought to be friends too. So, what do you say? We could meet here in Winter and I could show you the wonders we have, or, you could show me what Autumn has been hiding all these years, Kal and I have always wanted to visit Autumn, the few hours we get to spend there for the meetings do not do it justice, that I'm sure of.

Eagerly waiting for your response,

Your fellow High Lady, Viviane."

"Viviane is asking if I want to spend some 'girl's time' with her," she giggled, "And I think Kallias finally crowned her High Lady." She showed Eris the letter, pointing to the first and last phrases.

"About time," Eris uttered, "Was starting to think he didn't have it in him."

"Eris." She gave him a pointed look. Sometimes his old self would come up, a natural response, they were both working on it.

"Habit, sorry." He smiled at her, faking innocence but quickly erupted into laughter, making her join him. It was so weird for him not having to insult someone at any opportunity encountered, that when he did, out of nowhere, it was funny.

"You're so stupid." She said, stomach cramping from how hard she was laughing.

"Darling, you marry this stupid, deal with it." Eris sighed, running a hand through his perfect hair trying to compose himself. "So, will you?"

"Yes, it's been way too long since I've had a girl's time." She started searching for some paper so she could write back to Viviane.

"Not to sound insecure or anything but... what exactly do you females do on your 'girl's time'?"

"Just girly things, males and our sex life, you know," she responded nonchalantly, "Last time I had one, one of my friends had even reenacted some scenes..." Eris' face at that moment was something she'd paid to see again. His eyes looked like they'd pop out of his head, his cheeks flushed redder than she'd ever seen before, his mouth was hanging open and he looked like a fish when he trying to talk.

"Relax, Eris! I'm just joking." She laughed, her belly protesting. She saw through watery eyes the moment Eris regained his composure, his smirk gave her a hint that they had a long night ahead.

Two big hands pulled her body up, making her squeal and laugh even harder. Eris picked her up and turned them both so he was now sitting on her chair, his lips kissed her neck while his hands found the ticklish spots around her body.

"You think you can fuck with me and not be punished for it, little witch?" His voice was rough with lust, her laughter died down and turned into soft moans.

"Careful, I might reenact what you'll do next with Viviane..." A hand smacked her cheek, the warm feeling of the scalding fire that ran through his veins made her shiver with goosebumps, the whisper of his slender fingers running up her spine only making her tremble harder. The effect Eris had on her was insane.

"Don't you dare. Not the time to play, love." He bit her shoulder. She nodded, knowing Eris wouldn't actually be mad at her for misbehaving, but he would be stressed, and while he'd never act like his father, an stressed Eris was more sad than anything, and she hated that. He was done being used and beaten, the stress he endured all these centuries was enough to mess with his head so hard that now he could barely bear feeling stressed.

She nodded against his neck, kissing and nuzzling his shoulder. In response, he tugged her closer to him, his fingers finally working on the buttons of her dress, pulling apart and setting her down on her desk to take their clothes off.

When Eris was done unbuttoning his shirt, her hands found his muscular chest, pushing him back, signaling for him to sit. She quickly got down on her knees, Eris purposely slipped the fabric of her dress where her knees would meet the floor, making sure they wouldn't hurt so much. Her fingers worked on the strings of his trousers, when they slipped inside the waistband, Eris lifted his hips for her to slip them out, his briefs following suit, during their undressing, Eris had also taken his boots off.

Her hands danced around his torso and tights, lightly scratching his skin, her fingers followed his happy trail before touching his cock, squeezing him the way he liked while running her hand up and down. His warm fingers caressed her arms, encouraging her to keep the pace.

After he was completely hard, she started licking his tip, running her tongue against the underside, slowly going down and licking the whole expanse of his member. His quiet sights and humming making her skin tingle, leaning away from him she admired her artwork, the way his skin was redder in certain spots, his breath was ragged even with so little action, his eyelids almost fully closed and his hair the same messy hair she saw at home. His vulnerability came with a messy version of Eris that would make anyone question if it was really him, his usually perfect styled hair seemed to have never seen a hairbrush, his enviable posture sometimes slumpy.

"Don't stop..." He whined, his head lolled from one side to another.

Taking pity on him, she brought her mouth back down, taking as much of him as she could, bobbing her head slowly, taking him deeper everytime she went down until her nose was pressed against him.

"Gods... What did I do to deserve you?" Eris mumbled, when she looked up, his eyes were fully closed and his mouth had formed a pleased smile.

Eris wasn't really into blowjobs, at least not like the other males she knew, he'd never refuse it of course, but he wasn't one to ask for it. She never asked and Eris never said anything, but she had an inkling that it might have something to do with his father, the way he viewed and treated females, Eris was bound to have heard and, perhaps, seen some disgusting things.

Her mate's hand gently cradled her head, not moving her, just holding. His hips twitched every time her mouth fully enveloped him, she noticed how much effort he was putting into not thrusting up.

"You can fuck my mouth if you want." Her voice was raspy and breathless when she spoke, immediately going back to sucking on him, paying special attention to his tip. His eyebrows furrowed like he was in pain, mouth opened in a silent moan, the muscular thighs under her finger tensed. Suddenly Eris was pushing her head away and yanking her up into his lap.

"For someone who claims to hate teasing, you're doing it way too well, sweetheart." His hands slipped through her hair until he had a good hold of the back of her head, he pushed her closer to his mouth, just enough that she could touch him if she stuck her tongue out, when she tried to lean in for a kiss, he pulled at her hair. He laughed at her pout and gave a mocking peck to her bottom lip, a mere brush that could never be called a kiss.

"You're mean, you know that?" She pushed at his chest, not exactly trying to push him away, all her strength went to keeping her smile at bay.

"But my love... someone needs to take that seriousness off your pretty face."

"You just say that because you can't be serious around me, I smell envy..." She sniffled jokingly, the only scent that filled her nose was arousal, the musk smell of Eris and the slick coating her thighs.

Eris giggled, throwing his head back, one of his hands left her waist to rest at his abdomen, his body convulsing with soft laughter. None of the males she met before laughed like that, in fact, she wasn't sure if they ever truly laughed. Eris, despite his upbringing, knew how to have a good laugh.

"Oh Gods... I couldn't have asked for a better mate." His  head was still thrown back, if the sight of his body slumped in her chair didn't say anything, his relaxed smile sure did. "Kiss me." The hand that remained on her waist ran up to her cheek, "Kiss me." He repeated, bringing her head closer. "Drown me with the taste of you." Their tongues danced. "Make me forget how to breathe without your hands on me." Her hips lifted enough to take him inside her warm cunt, the feeling making them both groan. "My body is yours, my soul is yours, my heart is yours, take my mind too. My every thought is yours, everything I think is formulated with your face in my mind, everything I plan is thinking of you and us, our future, our family..."

Their heartbeats synchronized, their mouths dancing, the rhythm of her hips rocking their bodies, their chests collided with rapid breaths, hands here and there squeezing and feeling. "Eris–"

"Yes! Yes, yes, please!" His hands went back to her hips, helping her bounce on top of him, her head dropped to his shoulder, nodding.

Eris gasped, as pleasure threatened to push him off the edge, he braced an arm on her waist and lifted himself off her chair, his unoccupied hand pushed the paper off the desk, he'll help reorganize them later. Feeling the kisses she planted on his neck, combined with her sigh of pleasure when he slipped her down his cock, almost made his knees buckle.

He set her down onto the desk, curving an arm under her head, giving her time to adjust to the new position before he started to thrust, his forehead resting on hers, their breaths fanning each others faces.

Her hands ran the whole expanse of Eris' back, encouraging him to thrust into her, each snap of his hip against hers threatening to push her off the desk, the arm he slung under her head being the only thing keeping her from doing so. The intensity of having sex with Eris never failed to amaze her, she wasn't sure if it was because he was her mate, or if it was really just in his nature to be intense, probably both. Due his accidental edging, Eris already felt close to cuming, the fact that she kept squeezing him didn't help, he was sure she was doing it on purpose, brat, he really taught her well. He couldn't stop his hips from stuttering so he just stopped, resting his cock fully inside her, his head dropping to her chest to suck on her perky nipples, trying to pretend it was all in purpose, unfortunately for him, it didn't foul her. Her soft giggles filled his ears, both her hands moving to his head, running her fingers through his wild red hair.

"Have I already told you I love your messy hair?"

Eris pulled back from her breast to look at her, a expressionof shock on his face before a breath burst out of him, "My hair is not messy, love." He answered while giggling, thinking she was joking. She only rolled her eyes in response, moving her hips against his, Eris' mouth feel open, his eyes slammed shut.

"Close already?" She smiled up at him, knowing too well the effect she had on him. Her legs moved so she had a firm grip of him, now being able to move her hips better, squeezing his cock whenever he was pushed deep inside her.

"Keep doing that–" His words were cut off by a groan, "And I'll cum before you." Eris' whole body trembled.

"It's okay." She pulled his head closer to hers, nuzzling his nose before initiating a kiss. She doubled her efforts to make him cum, moving her hips harder and faster, licking into his mouth like an starved female.

Eris groaned, his body tensed, his knees buckled, his arms gave up and he fell fully against her, she could feel his thighs shaking and a hot liquid filling her cunt. She felt every spurt of cum, his cock throbbing, the way that even when he was finished he was still hard. As soon as he regained control of his legs, he trusted slowly into her, pushing his cum as deep as he could.

When he came down from his high, Eris pulled back from her mouth, not once had she stopped kissing him, his eyes roamed through her beautiful body, his hands squeezing her breasts and stomach, sliding down until his thumb met her clit, rubbing lazy circles on her, just enough to feel good.

Eris slid his cock off of her slowly, catching the small spurt of cum that came out and pushing it back inside her. After meeting her gaze one last time, he fell to his knees, his mouth placing gentle kisses and nibbles on her plump thighs.

His nose brushed her clit, their scents mingled together filled his nose, his tongue licked her slit like the starved male he was, slurping his own release mixed with her wetness. Her moans drew him insane, she was a quiet female so to know she made those beautiful noises because of him, was maddening. Her hands brushed his hair out of his face, careful fingers touching his pointed ear, making it twitch involuntarily. She felt more than heard her mate's groan, the vibration directly on her clit pushed her off the edge she didn't even know she was treading. Eris didn't stop, the pleasure building up inside her as if she never reached her release at all. His slender fingers pushing through her throbbing slit, curling into a spot inside her that made her see stars, after years of experience, Eris could definitely bring her orgasm after orgasm if he wanted to, and that's what he did. Pushing his fingers as deep as they'd go and pulling them out before she could slip off again, he played with her until he was sure she was too deep in pleasure to hold it back.

When he was done, she could barely feel her own body, still tingling with pleasure and her mind too fogged up. She felt warmth and his scent enveloped her, her cheek pressed into something hard, his heartbeat helped bring her back to herself. Eris' hand brushed her locks behind her ear, caressing her hair mindlessly, he planted kisses where he could reach, head, forehead, eyes, nose, until she stared back at him, eyes still shining as she smiled.

"That was good." She said, voice barely a whisper. Eris hummed in response, smiling back.

He helped her into his shirt, knowing she was too sensitive to wear her dress again. After that they went back to their chambers, still holding one another as they went. All the servants had gone to bed by now, so no one saw their half dressed High Lord and Lady walking through the corridors.

"Are you too tired for a bath?" Eris asked agaisnt her neck, never one to stay away from his mate. "Hungry? I can go make us something." He brushed her jawline with his nose, arms tightly holding her against him.

"Not too tired, and kind of hungry but I'd rather have you here with me." She answered with her eyes closed, bathing in the affection he poured on her.

"I'll draw us a bath, and then we'll go eat something." It was natural for them, so many times had Eris gone to visit her in the middle of the night with an empty stomach, right after finishing all of his work for the day. It only got worse when he became High Lord, so many things to be fixed that the only moment they got to themselves was at night, when Prythian was asleep.

Taglist: @callsigns-haze , @lilah-asteria , @mybestfriendmademe , @coldmermaidhologram , @rcarbo1 , @andreperez11 , @st4r-girl-official , @tenshis-cake , @pirana10 , @esposadomd lmk if you want to be added/removed

A/n²: I accidentally wrote "you can duck my mouth if you want"... and when I read it midway through the smut it was... cringe, I stopped writing. had to go feed the ducks

[eupheme]

— the season for second third fourth chances

[part v of sugar, sugar] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 4.5k

tags: holiday fluff, reader references/celebrates christmas, misunderstandings, light angst, references to canon-typical anxiety, violence, wade's cancer diagnosis, and death, references plot events in DP 1 & 2, sexual innuendos/implied smut, feelings

With the holidays on the horizon, your afternoons are filled with preparations for Wade’s annual holiday party. With baking and cookie decorating, finishing up wrapping presents - and maybe even a little Christmas miracle, when you find yourself running into a familiar face.

"What?"

It slips from you, as your eyebrows shoot up - glancing down at the piece of cardstock. Before you're adding -

"Why?"

Wade huffs, his finger tapping against the text that loops across the top.

"Don't give me that, Sugar. I spent ages picking out the right font, I know the contrast is enough for you to read it clearly."

And he's right. You can definitely read it, even without the coarse coat of glitter making the headline sparkle.

‘Spread Some Christmas Cheer’

The letters arching above a photo of Wade. His suit on, of course, as he lounges across the lap of what appears to be a mall Santa. Dread in the man’s once-twinkling blue eyes, as one of Wade’s legs drapes across the velvet red suit, the other kicked high against the back of the padded red chair.

‘With Wade Wilson's Winter Wonderland’ in script beneath - with dates and time for his party listed below.

"I can definitely read it," You acknowledge, "I was just asking what, as in what made you take this, and maybe even where, because-"

"Oh," He chuckles, "Yeah, I'm absolutely banned from JCPenney, but worth it, right? This is my best-looking card yet."

You can't help the smile, "It's definitely something."

He grins, "So, you'll come? I heard there might be a certain someone there."

"Is that right?" Your tongue pokes against your cheek.

"Mhmm. Pretty sure he sees you when you're sleeping. Definitely know if you've been naughty or nice, and I know for a fact I've seen you in his lap-"

There's a sound of disgust, as your nose wrinkles, "Okay, can you not talk about Logan that way? I don't need a Santa comparison in my head."

"Just thought I'd spice some things up for you. It's nothing to be ashamed of, we've all had a crush on the big man."

"On who?" There's a rough voice behind you - Logan hand fisted around the fleece jacket tugged from the back of the armchair.

"He knows what I'm talking about," Wade points, "I'm just saying, if Santa needs help handling that sack of his, I'm so fucking down."

"Jesus fucking Christ." An arm curls around you, as Logan glances at the invite, "Wait, this is this weekend?"

"Yes, this weekend," Wade sniffs, "We talked about it yesterday."

"Wasn't home yesterday." Logan's eyebrow cocks, "Or the day before."

"Well, I talked about it with somebody." Wade shrugs - another tapped finger at the bottom of the card, "Anyways, blah, blah, blah. It’s all here, proper name, place name, backstory stuff... just be there, because I know where you live-"

"We'll be there." You interrupt, biting back your smile, "Want me to bring anything?"

Wade's look turns pleased, and then thoughtful, "Well, I was going to get some cookies from Yeastie Boys Bakery..."

The words trailing off, as you groan - already so over the new bakery in town, their stupid jingle and 'viral' cupcakes that taste like shit.

"Don't even talk to me about them."

You can feel the way Logan's hands brace on your shoulder. The low, "he's kidding sweetheart-" rumbled in your ear.

"Guilty." Wade's hands spread wide, "Was just trying to rile you up into offering some of your own splendid wares. Al still talks about the ones you brought over last year. If it’s not too much work…"

The sentence trails off, as he bats his brown, pleading, puppy-dog eyes at you.

"Lead with that next time, asshole." Logan sighs.

"It's not." You answer automatically, though you're already mentally running through your schedule.

The presents you still have to wrap. The loose ends of Wade's gift that you still have to weave in. Another trip to the grocery store, for certain - you'll have to bake at home, since it's a favor.

There's a kiss pressed to your temple, as Logan moves around you.

"I know that look. Don't push too hard, honey." He finishes shrugging on his jacket, "I’ll see if Laura and I can help you out tomorrow."

Wade's voice chiming in, “And let it be known I am formally offering to help, but-”

You huff, “Thank you, but you’re still banned from my kitchen, Wade.”

Still not over the surprise of your gingerbread appearing with piped anatomically correct additions, after you had left him unsupervised last year.

The kiss goodbye you share with Logan lingers, a grateful press of your mouth against his. Wondering what you did to deserve such a man, still ready to pinch yourself every day.

A look in his eyes that matches yours, as he steps around Wade, who still lingers.

"Thanks, Sugar." He grins, "And remember - you better be good for goodness sake-"

You groan, as you shove him out the door. Logan's fingers curling around the collar of Wade’s jacket, the other tugging at the handle.

Unable to help adding your usual farewell, “Be careful out there, okay? Come back safe.”

Not that they need it, not with their powers. But it still feels like a charm, tucked carefully into their pockets as they head out together again - off on a new mission.

"I’ll take care of your Sugar Bear.” It's sung out, muffled behind the closed door. “Love you byeee!"

A sigh, as you shake your head.

Guess you have some work to do.

Your pen marks another item off your list, as you inch your cart through the too-busy grocery store.

It’s already half-filled with other last-minute items. Another couple gifts, now that official date of the party looms on the horizon - you can’t leave Peter, Ellie, and Yukio out, after all.

A new decorative Christmas plate for the cookies - you had lost yours in the impromptu disc golf match that Wade hosted at the apartment last year.

Last you heard, it was still on the roof next door.

Molasses, brown sugar, and spices for gingerbread. A fresh box of food coloring, for the sugar cookies - you were out of red, from last year as well.

A pack of powdered sugar drops down into your cart. Reaching for a second, just as another hand bumps against yours.

Twin apologies chime, as your eyes flick to the side.

Instantly recognizing the woman next to you - the sheepish look on your face cooling.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen in recognition, “Hey.”

“Hi, Vanessa.” You offer a half-smile - the last dregs of your annoyance with Wade vanishing, as you rest the second bag on top of the other.

A beat, before you manage, “How are you?”

“Good. Office party,” She wiggles her own bag, before it slips into the basket at her elbow, “You?”

“Um, I’m good, too.” You shrug, “And no, uh… friend’s party.”

Wade seemed mostly over the disaster that happened close to two months ago. More prone to forgiving and forgetting - gracious, in a way that you could be, when you wanted. That you were, most of the time.

After all, it was easier, to let something slide off your back when it came to a personal grudge. You could be an adult and move on, then.

But it was still hard to forget how crushed Wade had been. How you knew that she knew he had been cooking for her the night she stood him up- a drunken confession that he had seen the notification that she had watched the stories he had snapped for his social media stories.

And even if he was over it, you weren’t sure you were.

“Wade’s party?” She guesses, and it makes you blink.

Wondering when and how she had been invited. As far as you knew, her name hadn’t passed his lips in weeks.

“Yeah.” Your eyes search hers - the tightness in them, how she bites the inside of her cheek, “Are… you?”

“Undecided,” Her lips lift. A breath, before she’s asking, “How’s he been lately? Is he…”

You can’t help the small frown, a mark deepening between your brows, “He’s good.”

A half-truth, before you tack a little more on, “Sure he’s appreciating the extra space. Fixed Al up with a Murphy bed, and Logan’s been staying with me a lot lately.”

“Oh. I thought-” Vanessa’s sentence trails off.

She looks lost for a moment. A glance downward, picking at the manicured edge of a nail.

You haven’t seen her like this before. Too used to her confidence, those sharp edges that you lack.

Pity flickers through you.

“I really have to go. If I don’t start these soon, I’ll be up all night.”

It comes out apologetic - and you realize, you actually mean it, “But why don’t you swing by my apartment in a bit? I’m gonna be baking all afternoon, but I make a mean boozy hot chocolate.”

The look she gives you is tinged with relief.

It’s enough to make you wonder what you’re missing.

“Wait, what?” You yelp - for the second time, in forty-eight hours.

There’s a smudge of flour on your sweater. Holiday music pouring through the speaker on your counter. Vanessa carefully inching the gingerbread cutouts an inch apart.

A shoulder lifting, as she repeats herself, “I said I thought he moved on. With you.”

Not knowing, with the way she had come late to the party where you had met Logan. Left early, with her new corporate schedule.

You almost over-pour the ground cinnamon into the second batch. Tipping it back into the jar, as you let the spoon clatter against the counter. Her head tilts, at your expression.

“You haven’t thought about it? I know you’re both close.”

In another world, perhaps.

Another life - one where you hadn’t met Logan when you did. Hadn’t spent months cheering Wade on, those once barely-there flickers of interest fading to something solidly platonic some time ago.

Your head shakes, the words coming slowly, “It’s always been you, Vanessa. Everyone knows that.”

The corner of her lips lift. Fingernails tapping against the aluminum pan.

“I thought so, too.”

You frown, “Is that why didn’t you show? When he asked you over for dinner?”

Vanessa laughs then, rueful.

“The dinner.” Her eyes flick away, going back to a memory - a beat, before the snap to yours, “Yeah. I wanted to go. I uh, just split with Dermot. From work.”

You nod, remembering - overhearing the conversation at Wade’s birthday.

“He wanted me to move in. Said he saw a future with me, but when it came down to taking that step…” Her lips press together, the lift of a shoulder, “I’ve never seen myself with anyone else. Only him.”

Only Wade.

“But… then I saw you with him. The stories he posted. The two of you cooking, dressed up like a date.” It comes in a rush, “I thought, incorrectly, apparently-”

“He was cooking for you.” There’s a furrow in your brow, trying to piece together the way she saw it.

The sundress you wore for Logan. The captions that tipped towards lewd that you had tried to get him to delete - jokes about “getting lucky”, or the chicken not the only thing “being stuffed tonight”.

She nods, “I’m getting that now.”

“I think you still should have gone.” It’s starting to make sense, but you can’t help the reproach in your tone, ”He was devastated.”

The look she shoots you is defensive. Vanessa had always carried an intensity you lacked, and you take the full brunt of it now. Your fingers curl into fists for strength, not letting your gaze drop first. A beat, before she nods.

“I guess it’s just become easier to run.” Vanessa admits, “Defense mechanism. Get out first. Ironic, I know.”

You frown, not knowing, “Has that… has that happened before?”

“Which time?” Her laugh is close to a scoff, as she sighs.

Your eyes drop now, as you go back to your work. Back to measuring, tipping the spices into your mixer. The words coming slowly.

”He hasn’t told me a lot. Just a bit about last time. About…” You search for the words, feeling guilty. “About him not doing enough. That you wanted him to do something meaningful, and then the stuff with the Avengers, and…”

The words die, when you see her face.

Sorrow and anger, with the sharp shake of her head, “I never gave a damn about the Avengers. That was all Wade.”

A sigh, as she collects herself.

“I just wanted him to find his passion again. He changed… a few years ago. Something happened, a really close call. He fixed it, but he wasn’t the same after.”

A breath, before she adding, “He took it hard. Guilt, I think. All I really wanted was for him to talk to me. To let me help him, but he never let me in because he didn’t want me getting hurt again. He shut down, and stopped talking to me.”

The mixer hums. A beep of your timer, as the minutes tick down.

“You know Wade. Always has a joke ready. Never wants to get serious if he can help it. It’s stupid, but we... drifted.” Vanessa’s throat bobs as she swallows, “I was dealing with my own shit, and when he pushed me away, it reminded me of last time.”

She catches your expression again, as the dough tips out of the bowl. The furrow of your brow, as you swap it for a chilled portion in your fridge.

“It’s been a recurring theme,” It comes out blunt.

Her look turning considering, then, when the frown doesn't waver.

“Do you love Logan?”

The rolling pin slips in your grip. Pressing too hard, denting dough.

“I-,” You breathe. The question unexpected, leaving you wholly unprepared, even as your heart beats out the answer.

Her expression softens, “You care about him.”

You nod mutely.

“What would you do, if Logan just - disappeared? No trace of him, just gone in the night?”

Her question hangs. A physical ache in your chest at the mere thought, one that leaves you unable to breathe. Pieces starting to click together - little bits of what you know, forming some sort of photo.

“Is that what Wade did?”

She nods, “It was right after his cancer diagnosis. He was going through a lot, and just - left. For years. I thought… I thought he had died. I mourned him. It crushed me.”

You can’t help but reach across the table - hesitant, in the way you squeeze her arm.

She lets you, a look shot your way. Defending him, unable to help it.

“I get it, though. I get that it was a lot. I’ve forgiven him. But…” Her teeth pinch at her cheek, that guilt coming back, “When he started pulling away, I thought it was happening again. I couldn’t live through that again.”

You finish for her, “So you left first.”

She nods.

Silence lingers. Nails tapping on the countertop, fiddling with the silver rings on her fingers. The heat of the oven curling across your arms, as you swap one tray for another. Setting it aside to cool.

“You should go talk to him.” Your voice cracks through the quiet, when you turn - hands bracing against the counter.

Her eyebrows raise, “And say what?”

”Tell him what you told me. That you were just scared.” Your voice softens, “He invited you to his party because he still *wants* you in his life.”

She blinks, silent.

“I’ll help you,” You coax, “Logan’s already coming over tonight.”

Your eyes flick down to your phone, checking, ”Uh, really soon, actually. I’ll go next door with you, and bring Althea back with me. Give you two some time to catch up.”

Vanessa’s fingers cards through her hair - pushing back the long strands, the words coming slowly, “I don’t know…”

“Wade is crazy about you.” It comes out bluntly, and it’s this that pulls her attention.

You’re already swiping a container off the counter. Filling the bottom with sugar cookies baked this morning - cut into trees and mittens, decorated with buttercream and sprinkles.

The lid snaps on, as you hold it out to her.

“Trust me?”

Her eyes meet yours, and you can see the swirl of emotions across her face.

You smile and finally - she nods.

She follows a step behind, as you leave the apartment. The hallway chilly, the entrance bringing in a dusting of snow across the carpet, with the revolving holiday traffic.

The closing front door downstairs echoes with your own, as you head the next apartment over. Knuckles rapping against the wood, fingers mentally crossed.

A voice ringing out, muffled, “If you’re part of Rudolph and the Red-Hot Reindeers, you’re a day early-”

Opening to reveal Wade, dressed down in a shirt and sweatpants with his Deadpool logo patterned across them.

“Oh, hey Sugar.” He smiles, “What’s up?”

“Well,” You stall for a second, trying to figure out what exactly to say, “Is Althea home? Was wondering if she could help me with something.”

Wade chuckles.

“Fat fucking chance, she’s two episodes into the Golden Bachelor right now and she’s sure as hell not moving-” The words die out as Vanessa moves into view, the container in hand.

He goes silent, for the first time you can remember.

“I have the same streaming apps as you, I’m sure I can convince her.” Your shift - a hand touching at her shoulder, urging her forward, “And maybe you could do me a favor, too. Taste test these for tomorrow?”

For a moment, you think he doesn’t hear you. His eyes lingering on Vanessa, his face bleeding from surprise to confusion to hope, as he takes her in.

“Yeah.” He manages after a long moment - clearing his throat.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, not with the way Al enjoys a cup of piping hot tea as much as you do - along with the promise she can watch her beloved show in peace. Almost giddy in the way she makes for the door, cane in hand and Dogpool tucked in the crook of her other arm.

The door just shutting behind you before she’s hissing, “What in God’s name was that?”

You shush her, eyes flicking back towards the apartment. Almost jumping out of your skin when it’s followed by another voice, this one pitched low.

“Seconded. Busy afternoon?”

Logan leans against the wall, Laura expression clear with the pull of her brows. Thirded.

“Something like that.” You herd them inside your apartment, before they can be overheard - not that Wade was listening, you’re sure.

The door is barely shut, before they’re rounding on you. Your own hands on your hips - a nod directing them towards the kitchen table, laden with bare gingerbread cookies.

Al tucked in the armchair, spun around the face the bustle of the kitchen, her show long forgotten.

“You’re stalling.” Laura points out bluntly, as you hand her the bag of icing.

Your tongue tucked against your teeth, as you shoot Logan a look. His eyebrows raised in response, eyes sliding over to the brick wall that separates your apartment from Wade.

“I’m not,” The word strings out, “It’s just, like, it’s not a big deal, right?”

She scoffs.

Althea’s cane taps the ground, “Something happened, and you’d better spill.”

“Alright,” Your fingers spread in front of you, “I ran into Vanessa at the store today. And we got to talking, and I invited her back here. I think she regrets what happened between them.”

There’s a snort of derision, and you can feel yourself starting to bristle.

“We all have our opinions, myself included-” You allow, as another noise interrupts you - lower and more gruff this time. You spin, shooting Logan another look.

“But I think she was genuine. I’ve certainly had my fair share of… miscommunications,” His expressions softens at your words, the corner of his lips curling as you shift to face Al.

“And I got some really good advice once from someone. Something about ‘talking about it’, and that’s what I encouraged her to do.”

“Hope you’re right,” Al sighs- but there’s a smile there, hidden in the way her lips press together, “That boy is more sensitive than my left tit in a snowstorm.”

“Jesus.” It’s muttered, at your shoulder. Logan’s head shaking as he joins Laura, the hint of a smirk as she works on piping a set of angry eyebrows.

Your eyes roll, “I am.”

Spinning back to face the table, as you grab your own bag of frosting.

“After all, it’s Christmas,” You can’t help but throw her way, from over your shoulder.

“And isn’t that the best time for a miracle?”

Logan’s arms wrap around you later, as you snap the last lid in place. Finally done with your last-minute idea - decorating each of the gingerbread to look like your friends.

Laura slipping out a few minutes ago, intent on staying until the end. Just as determined as Logan to see things through, even though you tried to get her to leave a few times - worried about the weather, the long drive back to the mansion.

The slight smile as her eyes rolled - with your affection towards her, you forget how impervious she is.

Althea long asleep in the couch, the quilt Logan’s borrowed so many nights before tucked around her. Ambient holiday music still pouring through the speaker, your attempt to drown out the enthusiastic reunion taking place next door.

Can’t bring yourself to mind. More relieved than anything.

And you deserve it, you suppose.

“You did a good thing.” It’s murmured into your hair, as you finally relax into him.

Arms curling beneath his, wrapping around his broad back to embrace him. You hum with contentment as his lips brush your temple.

“Don’t know if I can manage a miracle,” His lips curve when you lean back, eyes flicking up to meet his, “But if there anything else you might want for Christmas?”

Your teeth sink into your lip, as you grin.

The answer is easy, as your face tips towards his.

“Just want more time with you.”

Logan huffs, as his hand dips down. Cupping soft flesh, kneading - as he tugs you the rest of the way. A grin, just before his mouth presses against yours.

“Mm. Hope you don’t mind celebrating a little early, then.”

Red and green have exploded in the apartment next door - the flamingo lights that spill from the kitchen replaced with blinking bulbs. A tree that you’re truly unsure how it fit through the door, much less the narrow hallway, tucked in the corner.

You and Logan had helped decorate it earlier in the month - Wade directing from the couch, as the two of you and Althea arranged the ornaments. A ninja star zip-tied to the top, but with the lights turned low, and the swirl of snow coming down outside - it’s cozy.

It’s familiar - faces you’ve come to know well, known to love, fill the space. The cookies are a hit, sweet exclamations as they find the ones that represent them. Woolen and knitted sweaters, bodies tucked together on a hodgepodge of surfaces.

And perhaps, you do end up on Logan’s lap. His thighs spread wide in an armchair Wade found on the curb, out of place against the brick walls and industrial windows with its floral pattern.

Your eyes meeting Wade’s from across the living room, anticipating the tease.

But he only smiles back.

Something soft - an arm slung around Vanessa’s shoulder. The ‘white elephant in the room’, as he had cheekily alluded to it, addressed with a carefully placed piece of mistletoe.

Side-eyes and stunned silence easing into smiles, when you all saw the way they looked at each other.

And when he corners you to tell you thank you, you know the bone-crushing hug is not just for the handmade red-and-black beanie and scarf that you had gotten up early to finish for him.

The rest of your gifts don’t quite reach the same level, but you’re pleased all the same. Laura’s smile shy as she tries on the Docs you caught her eyeing, ankle twisting as her eyes dip down.

Logan’s arm tightening around your waist when you hand him the wrapped package. His eyes lingering on yours until the paper is loosened, a pleased hum when he sees the lined leather jacket you picked out for him.

“Your first winter with us in New York,” You smile, “Can’t have you catching cold.”

Something to keep in warm, when he tinkers on the bike stashed in the basement. To protect him, when he’s not in his suit. Better than that the faded fleece he’s lifted from Wade’s closet.

And even though you’d been fairly certain he’d given you your gift last night - and again this morning - there’s still a pretty card tucked into your palm. A piece of paper folded inside, next to sentiments that made heat rise to your cheeks.

A photo printed out - a cozy little cabin, the roof lined with snow. Framed with a thick ring of woods and surrounded by wilderness. The reservation dates and details marked out in the text below.

“A vacation?” You can’t remember the last time you’ve been away. Excitement surging at the thought of spending a week tucked away with your boyfriend, “For us?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Logan husks, “Found a nice little place up north. Just you and me.”

His fingers flex against your waist, his face tipping up to yours, “Would you like that?”

“I’d love that.” You smile.

You love him.

You’re certain of that - a name for that warm weight in your chest that’s been there for weeks. Since the beginning really, coming to a full flourish with the conversation the day before.

Maybe with the turn of the new year, you’ll pluck up enough courage to tell him.

For now, you beam at him. Pressing yourself close - entwining fingers that squeeze. Hoping he can read the soft look you give him, the words murmured out, in the little bubble you’ve found yourselves in.

“Merry Christmas, Logan.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, before he tugs you down to meet him.

“Merry Christmas, Sugar.”

after part iii, i could not leave our bff wade with a sad ending!!! 💖 for a little bit early on i toyed with the idea of making this series a poly one (before come on and show me) hence a couple little references throughout (and the reason to keep the breakup in the first place) (which I still have beef with in the movie, BUT I did my best). thank you for checking out this series, it might be one of my favorite things I’ve had the pleasure to work on and seeing the love on it has been so amazing 💕

[romeosharpae]

“FOUR MONTHS”

theodore nott x reader

(Yes after one year I'm back with toxic Theodore Nott). You don't have to read part one..

Warnings; Possessive behavior, manipulation, toxic relationships, mentions of obsession, mature sex scenes, unprotected sex, rough sex, swearing, smoking, degradation (Not a lot), theodore nott × female feader, toxic! theodore nott

parts: 1,

There was something in the air this morning, a soothing feeling that made you a little more peppy. So as you skipped to the great hall, books clutched tightly to your chest, a small smile couldn’t help but to be on your lips.

It was the winter — your favorite season, so perhaps that was the reason for your sudden happiness this morning. You’d even wore a little grin through transfiguration, your least favorite class at Hogwarts.

But you were a happy girl generally, nice to everyone who crossed your path. You helped little first years avoid experiencing the wrath of Draco Malfoy. You also helped professors (For sure not Mcgonagal) help clean up after compliance lessons.

That’s just who you are.

“You look pretty today,” Is what Hermione Granger, your best friend, greets you with as you took a seat aside her. No you weren’t a Gryffindor — but you often found yourself sitting at the orange and red more than your own.

“Yeah, I like what you’ve done to your hair.” Harry Potter lowly added in with a sly smile, and you simply reflected it. Ron Weasley, who was aside Hermione let out a little snort in response to his best friend’s attempt to flirt.

Harry Potter – the boy who lived, the boy who everyone without any sort of spite or jealousy in their body adores. Sometimes you even found yourself admiring him — considering him as a form of replacement from your last fling.

“Thank you both,” You giggled,

“Well, I’m happy that your happy, Y/L/N” Hermione declared with a smile, “You see how much happier you are now? Compared to when you allowed that psycho to contr--"

And just like that, there was a damper in your happy mood.

Hermione always made extremely bold comments about your previous unhealthy relationship with Theodore Nott; Which is probably why he hated the fact you two were friends, not because she was a muggle. Truthfully, she’s the one that hyped you up to end things with him — but as you more think of it, she forced you too.

Because despite everything the tall raging brunette put you through, you still found your self right underneath him with a dizzy smile. But that hasn’t happened in four months, not since the day he dragged you out of the party. Shivers roll down your spin as you remember the events that happened that day,

You’ve got fourth months with his touch, without his complications.

And despite missing Theodore some nights, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a breath of fresh air. Like the air didn’t feel lighter without him breathing down your neck about showing any other male besides him attention – without him declaring that despite his lack of commit now, you’ll be baring his children later.

You recall how hearing those words made you feel months ago — Well, it did make you finish, but that’s completely besides the point — it finally made you realize that Theodore Not didn’t actually love you.

And neither did he want anyone else too.

Not because he loved you, but because had a unhinged obsession for you. The more you thought of it, the more you realized how clear Theo’s behavior displayed fixation.

How did you not realize it back in first year when he got seriously angry with Blaise Zabini for trying to be your friend?

It makes your stomach twist to think that you and Theodore's friendship was build off of an obsession – one that clearly grew worse as the years progressed.

"You alright over there, Y/L/N?" Ron questioned reluctantly,

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, turning to him with a small awkward smile across your lips, "Yes I'm fine, just got a little distracted, that's all."

"You always seem to suddenly get distracted when I bring up Nott." Hermione mumble, rolling her eyes. Because you're always telling me to leave him.

Is what you wanted to say, but instead you settle for a simple shrug.

You were sitting criss-cross on an knitted blanket in front of the black lake, skimming over the newest daily prophet in your hands. The full moon reflected softly against the lake water, making you awe.

Everytime a full moon lit the sky your found yourself out here, enjoying the peace. And no one knew about it — you weren't a prefect and your house leader would kill you if they found out you were out here past hours.

Well, you thought no one knew about your secret adventures to the black lake.

It was not until the loud familiar scent of smoke filled your nostrils that you understood that someone was here also. And with the heavy cologne that mixed with it, you didn't have to look back to know who it was.

"Leave. Me. Alone" You growled sternly, ignoring the thudding in your heart.

Of course you'd still hang with Blaise and Pasny every now and then. But when Theo walked in you immediately flee, knowing that being around him would result with him being inside of you in moments.

And your sure he knew that, which is exactly why the brunette is here. "So you don't think I've done that enough for the past four fucking months, Y/N?"

Venom dripped from Theodore's voice, and had you not been so used to Theodore being upset with the stuff you do — The coldness of his tone would have made you scared enough to jump away from him.

Your head snapped back in his direction, generally you were a nice happy girl. But during the times you weren't so sweet, it was Theodore Nott who got that wrath.

Who brought out that side of you.

"No, No." Theo's jaw clenched at your harsh words, lips parting slightly to allow smoke to slip past them. "Because I want you to leave me alone for the rest of my life."

"Did Granger help you come up with that?" Theodore snickered. There wasn't a actual thought in your brain when you rolled your daily prophet and launched it in his direction. He kissed it teeth when the parchment landed softly on his cheek.

The brunette takes another hit short of his cigarette, not giving your outburst a reaction. You stand up to your feet, preparing to collect your stuff and go back on school grounds.

He threw the cigarette on the ground, approaching you. You take a step back, not wanting to feel his touch — the touch that you have been craving for four months.

“Why does everyone get the sweet little Y/N except for me?" He cooed, eyebrows raising.

"What did I do to deserve this nasty side of you Y/L/N, huh?" Everything. "Did I not fuck you good enough last time?"

"You know it is not about that!" You defensively shouted out. Tears began pricking at the corner of your eyes, processing that the only thing you are to him is a fuck. "--You know that it's never been about that!"

You had like Theodore since third year, immediately awed with the matured boy that he became over the summer. And Theo knew your feelings for him — in fact, you told Theo about your feelings right before you had sex for the first time — he just didn't care.

He stared down at you, beautiful eyes glistening underneath the moon light. For a moment you swear you see pity flash in his eyes.. or maybe regret?

It makes you frown — You didn't want Theodore to pity you. It made you feel weak, always finding yourself with him when your in your weakness moments. Because despite his blunt toxic behavior, before your separation, Theodore always is there when you fail a test you study hard for or had complications with your family – He's the shoulder that you lean on, and the root of your problems.

“I miss you"

Something about those words fueled your feelings more, anger bubbling higher. "No you don't Theodore, you miss having me wrapped around your finger."

That regret.. or pity fades away quickly, replaced with anger in seconds.

“Do you even know how many girls I have wrapped around my finger, Y/N?" His mean tone makes you let a small sob. "How many girls wish upon stars that I had the feelings for them that I do you?!" Theodore takes this moment to grab your chin, yanking you closer to him before you got a chance to stop him. He hovers over you, fingers digging into the flesh of your skin. Blue eyes looking down at you like your prey he's prepared to fight for.

“You don't really care about me!"

"Shut up." He growled.

His mouth attacks yours in a feral manner, making you gasp loudly. The faint taste of his chapstick spreads is in your mouth,

And being that naive girl you are, you welcomed his lips eagerly. The hairs of your skin stood up fully, mind becoming foggy while Theodore desperately slides his tongue into your mouth. It makes you sob out louder, tears slipping from your eyes.

Hermione would be so mad if she knew how easily you allowed him in — The lack of fight that you put up with Theo. But you tried, you really did for four entire months..

You really tried your best too stay away from the boy that you loved so deeply.

“I--T--" Is what you choked out moments before Theodore hand slides to the back of your throat, making the kiss much deeper and tongue sloppier. Your noses were smushed against each other — there was nothing you could make out but his scent.

You didn't exactly get to register when it happened or how it happened. But someway, probably with magic, you ended underneath Theodore on your blanket.

Without wasting another second Theodore hooks his finger into the waist band of your shorts and underwear. "Why is things always so complicated with you?"

His words were harsh and the glare on his beautifully structured pale face makes you cry out even harder. The pad of his thumb catches one of your tears when it falls,

“Y/N Why can't you understand that this is perfect?" He wondered bluntly. His eyes look down at your exposed area, "That this is where you should be, with me."

“No--No I shouldn't--" You shouted, Theo grabbed your legs and spread them as far as they could go. "-- Your no good for me"

That makes the brunette scoff defensively – surely thinking that Hermione fed you that. But you knew it was true – If you stuck beside Theodore, you'd be mental by thirty.

A loud gasp fell from your lips when Theo pushed himself into you without any warning. Theirs something in your body that became at ease with the familiar stretch,

As if it been begging for it.

Not giving you a chance to prepare yourself, Theodore bottomed out in you. He groaned loudly as you flutter against him, practically welcoming him in you.

Theo begins snapping his hips forward at a pace that makes your eyes squeeze shut. You wish that you could hate him,

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter.." He finally responded to your comment. The loose curls of his hair brushed against your forehead as Theo leaned down, lips grazing softly against yours. A high pitched whimper left your lips at every thrust he gave you, an hot pain spreading inside in your lower half. Yet you couldn't stop your hips from jumping up, begging for more. “I'm good right now, aren't I?" He mocked,

His tongue invaded your mouth, like he's attempting to swallow your face whole. You kissed back instantly, tongue lapping over his as you both moaned.

Some moments you wished to know what Theodore was thinking when the two of you were together — and other times you didn't, not actually wanting to be right about his lack of love towards you.

His mouth left yours, spit following suit. Instead he began sucking on the skin of your new and chest, leaving bruises. "Mine." Theo growled, squeezing your breast.

You just shook your head frantically at his possessive words, not being able to form a literal disagreement. You weren't Theodore’s.. and unfortunately he wasn't yours.

He squeezed you harder, thrust forming a harsher pace as well, knocking the wind out your chest and making you gasp.

Tears slipped from your eyes from the pleasure, and your fingers began scratching against his arms. If your mind hadn't been so fogged out, you'd be embarrassed from how fast your release caught up.

“Say you won't leave again..." Theo spoke words were stone cold and you tried ignoring them — knowing that you planned on going back into hiding from him.

His cold hand snakes up around your neck, giving it a tight squeeze that makes you squeal. Your sure he notices that your avoiding his request and perhaps that's why his hips began to move at a slower pace – But you really had not expected him to completely stop,

The was absolutely no way he was going to leave you on edge like that. As your eyes flew open you sobbed out, Theodore wore a plain expression. His light eyes were already looking directly into yours,

You attempted to take matters into your own hands by beginning to slip up his length. But Theodore, who clearly wasn't having none of it, pushed you away by your stomach, pulling out of you completely now.

"Say it, Y/N!" He slightly shook you, "Or I swear I'll leave you like this-- Say it--"

"I--I'm not gonna leave!" The words left unexpectedly from your lips. And you really wish you could say you only said it to get your release but that wouldn’t be true. “..Ever again"

Theodore smiled widely at your words, pressing his face against your neck. And you both let out a loud sigh of comfort when he slid back inside of you,

You don't even know how you lasted four months without him.

Part three>>>

[harmoonix]

Fairytale - Astro Notes

The night will hold us close

And the stars will guide us home

Your lips were soft like winter

In your passion, I was lost

✿❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉✿

Mercury in Capricorn/Scorpio don't like to share all the things they do or did and rather keep it only for them in order to respect their privacy

Moon - Mars intense aspects: The native can get easily angry and can go through a rollercoaster of emotions, usually they end up having a breakdown in order to let themselves feel calm as at peace. They have an very intense nature (This can apply if you have semi-square or the other minor aspects aswell.

Scorpio Placements tend to have a very difficult time when it comes to love, they might feel that is always something to struggle with, their partners, emotions, feelings, etc... Some of them can easily end up heartbroken

Sagittarius Mars can get very scary when they are angry, this placement can indicate having a destructive side of you (kinda like a destroyer), and most times they don't think when they are angry and mostly act based on what they feel in that moment. Omg i imagine this placement as a Volcano erupting when they get angry

Neptune - Sun/Moon aspects: Radiating a very calm and peaceful aura, they can have a very calming personality and you can feel safe around them. For some reason i imagine this placement as someone who is like "Don't worry I'm here everything will be fine if we are together"😭 ( I love this)

Jupiter - Moon aspects can make the native to express their feelings more calmly and peacefully than other Planets. The native has a very powerful inner world, and very powerful intense emotions if you have conjunction between these too you can feel people's emotions without them telling you how they feel. This is also a very lucky to have, Jupiter helps the native to reach their goals and their dreams by using the power of emotions make sure to always understand your inner world

Mercury - Uranus aspects: The native can have a different accent than others while talking, they can have a very different writing style too and people always feel charmed by these natives due to their unique communication style. Also Uranus can make Mercury sometimes to talk too fast and sometimes to stutter during this

Pluto - Mercury aspects: Yes their sexy voices can rise all the hormones in your body, but these natives are very powerful at communicating and talking, knowing how to use the words at the perfect time. But omg yes another honorable mentions because of their voices!!🔥🔥🔥🔥 Men with these aspects are very attractive they can have a very deep gentle voice

Jupiter in the 8th house: Besties you know what time it is😍. It's time to become rich 💲👄💲, if you are attracted to men this placement can mean you will marry someone rich (Especially after marrying it says in the prophecy that usually these people have very successful marriages) + Abundent sex life because is the 8th house

An advice from me, for everyone with Venus - Saturn/Venus - Neptune/Venus - Pluto harsh aspects: Don't force love, love is supposed to come naturally. If the love doesn't come naturally and you have the feeling you need to force yourself for love...there was never love ❤️‍🩹

Usually people with 8th house in Water Sign (Cancer, Pisces, Scorpio) are very sensual in bed and might hold an infinity of kinks while if you have a fire sign in the 8th house (Leo. Sagittarius, Aries) you might have kinks that imply rough romantism. Omg men with Leo in the 8th house are in their natural element

Uranus - Mars harsh aspects: Breaking bed marathon, addiction to sexual activities, these natives can be pretty horny and dirty minded 😭

8th house in an Earth Sign (Virgo, Capricorn, Taurus) usually like to have ✨ Quality time ✨ so before going to sensual part they tend to spend time kissing and talking with you and when they go to action... 😍 While 8th house in an Air Sign (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius) might be into touching and communicating trough love, usually these people are very comforting during and after sensual time. I kinda feel like they are "Don't worry I'm here we do this together vibe" is so cute. I know they are good people when it comes to after care 😍✨

People with Mars - Saturn aspects: They usually have really godly bone structure, if they do gym in order to take muscles this might come in time and the result is 😍 100% good. Men with those aspects can be very strong physically

1st house ruler in the 10th house means that the native is gonna focus a lot on the career and professions about their career. They have big chances for going in high professions of our world

1st house ruler in the in the 4th house means that native main focus is their family, their are family lovers and love to spend time with their love ones

1st house ruler in the 8th house means that the native main focus is the transformation, they will evolve and transform a lot of times and going through a lot of stages in life. Rebirthing and learning through the experiences of life

1st house ruler in the 12th house means that the main focus in your life is spirituality and meditation, especially soul healing, tend to have a very powerful intuition and have a very powerful subconscious

- Hello guys 😍 is been a while since i posted my last post so here i am for another post, i love to make those fairy tale inspired aesthetics, a new post a new style kind of thing💕😊!

Love and peace to you all 😊💕 also never forget as i will always say... If you feel this doesn't reasonate with you make sure to check your vedic and sidereal charts💕!

If you need help with that 1st house ruler thing in my post I'm here to help you! 😊💕

1st house ruler in the 4th house. = What's your rising bestie? Let's say for this post that I'm an Pisces Rising (i love you all Pisces Risings so much, I'm rooting for you)

Pisces Rising = Pisces first house (Ruled by Neptune/Jupiter) now watch where Neptune and Jupiter are in your chart 😊if they are located in the 4th house this thing will be called (1st house ruler {Neptune, Jupiter} in the 4th house 😊💕! And the things goes on for the other placements!

If you are a Pisces Rising but you have Neptune in your 7th house that is called (1st house ruler in the 7th house) !💕😊

My 1st house ruler is located in the 1st house (Basically i have the ruler of the ascendant in the 1st house) in my tropical and in my sidereal is located in the 7th house, where is your 1st house located?

Maybe this can help you if you are new to astrology and want to learn about the house rulers 💋!

Harmoonix 💋

[pottersfia]

A smut one shot with George Weasley x femreader - one bed trope, enemies to lovers, angry confessions kinda thing would be soo good if you’re up for it.

warnings/content: smut ofc, fingering, george is a bit of a perv

george stared at the back of your head as he laid in his bed. how did he end up stuck in a bed with the one person he did not want to see during his winter holiday. the two of you were alone for the night as fred opted to sleep in the living room due to his cold and ginny's room was occupied by her and hermione.

you kept your eyes closed attempting to fall asleep but it was no use. george thought the slowness of your breathing and lack of movement was a clear indicator of you being sound asleep. he continued to stare.

as much as george disliked you, he couldn't help but replay memories of you in his head. he remembered the way you looked as you came out of the shower with your skin still slightly moist and soft from your lotion. before you pulled on a hoodie for bed, you wore a tight tank top and the smallest shorts he'd ever seen. you had even bent over almost exposing yourself. you were undeniably beautiful and he couldn't help but think of the things he'd like to do to you if he didn't hate you.

his mind drove him crazy and now he had an annoyingly hard problem in his pants. he didn't want to jerk himself with you right there but he figured a touch wouldn't hurt.

he reached down into his pants and touched his tip to feel his pre cum. he spread it over his tip and held back a moan. all he could think about was how nice it would be to touch you as your scent filled his lungs, you being right next to him.

"fuck." he whispered as he touched himself a little faster. this got your attention. your eyes opened and you heard little movements from george. you slowly turned and saw his hand down his pants with his eyes squeezed shut.

"george?" you whispered shouted. his eyes widened and he froze, looking over to you. "what the bloody hell are you doing?" you ask.

"i- i just, um." his face burned red.

"you just decided to start jerking off right next to me?" you sat up and scooted slightly away from him.

"y/n, i'm sorry it was-" but you interrupted him.

"don't even. what the fuck were you even thinking about that made you this horny?" you crossed your arms. "probably something stupid like a dirty magazine i bet you have or something. you're such a perv i bet you're addicted and just couldn't go one night without touching your-"

"it was you!" he almost shouted. it was your turn to be silent now. "oh my fuck, you're annoying." he leaned back on his pillow.

"what do you mean, it was me?" you asked.

"i couldn't get you and your stupid soft skin out of my head." he mumbled. as much as you disliked george you couldn't deny finding him attractive.

the two of you stared at each other in momentary silence. you didn't know what to say. should you yell at him? tell him how disgusting he is? completely leave the room? you weren't sure but the way he was staring you down with the moon shining through the window was driving you crazy.

before you knew it, you were laid on your back, chasing george's lips as he parted them from yours. he gave you a smirk as he lifted your hoodie up and off your body.

"so bloody hot." he whispered. you held back a small whimper and watched as he left kisses around your neck, collarbone, and down closer towards your chest.

george did not hesitate to pull your straps down, exposing your tits for him. he looked up at you.

"this ok?" he asked. you nodded.

"yes. get on with it, george." he smiled at you and obeyed. his kisses spread to every inch of your chest and down your torso. you played with his hair and pulled on it as he got closer and closer to where you needed him most.

george pulled your shorts off to reveal how wet you were.

“all wet for me, love?” his voice was low and rough and it sent flutters to your core. george leaned back over you so your faces were close and placed his fingers on your lips. “suck on them for me.”

you did as he said, sucking on his fingers while staring right at him. he bit his lip as he watched you, and took his fingers out of your mouth. he then reached down and slowly pushed his fingers inside you.

“fuck, george.” you closed your eyes and moaned out. he moved his fingers in and out if you making you wetter and wetter. he loved the way you looked, whimpering under him as he made you feel good. he leaned down to kiss you and you reciprocated. your sounds were muffled by his mouth and you reached down to rub your clit.

you could feel yourself getting closer and closer but you wanted all of him. you broke the kiss to look at him.

“i need you, please.” he smiled down at you.

“i’m right here, y/n. what do you need?” his fingers kept going.

“pl- please,” you whimpered again. “fuck me, george. i need you inside of me.”

“never thought i’d hear those words from you.” he said as he began to pull off his pants. you smiled and rolled your eyes at him.

“hurry up and fuck me.”

[schuylerpeck]

it is winter and nothing in my house is doing well. my plants are mad at me. there's a creeping fog of fruit flies hanging by the sink. I catch myself reasoning the nutritional value of boxed wine. my dog drops his ball at my feet and all I can do is apologize. a back tooth hurts for two days and then winks a "just kidding."

it is a hard thing to realize this is all mine, all the time. the dishes. the oil change. the postcards I meant to send two weeks ago to friends I love, but can't bring myself to text back. is adulthood just upkeep? iron supplements and grocery runs. work meetings to track YoY progress where I can't help but picture my life as a flat line the past few months. it's winter. I try to remember everything seems bigger when I can't open the windows and air out my worries. that every year, my writing gets buried under the snow, only to sprout something new once the days get longer. yes, this is just mine, and it feels hard to love when I'm throwing on a few more layers to make sure it's warm, bringing tissues when it is sniffling through some flu shots, or replacing a weeping bag of spinach with a fresh one to see if this is the week we let good habits stick. this is mine. and while I'll chew through a few layers of bottom lip when the going gets rough, I'm still set on going.

I can be gentle. I can be patient. I can remember for every heavy ounce of ownership, there are moments of weightlessness in between. this is mine, to kiss the tears from my own cheeks and feel my young heart bandage its knees. even when walked slowly, there's a better I keep catching glimpses of, with no deadline of arrival.

[goldsbitch]

That next Christmas flight

epilogue p.1 to That one Christmas flight

summary: Few months down the line, Y/N is getting onto the same Christmas flight as a completely changed girl.

warning: cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

Another Christmas flight. Traditions linger long and strong no matter how much one tries to resist. It's been a year precisely since the last flight that had turned her life upside down and Y/N found herself standing at the same airport where she shared a first kiss with Lando. Except this time she was thrown off for a completely less glamorous reason, sitting all confused and looking at the cancelled note next to her flight number on the departure board. She was just one of the other anxious annoyed passangers, trying to figure out how to get to Japan on time. Her mom hated when people were late. And she was sure she'll find a way to blame it on her. Bad planning, she'd always say. Love comes in different flavors to anyone, Y/N sighed, looking forward to seeing her mom after so many months, which had brought a rollercoaster of unexpected emotions.

She has had the summer of her life, hard to imagine something topping this one. The ultimate love affair - exciting, sweet and eye opening. Made her question everything she thought about adult life. All those love song suddenly made sense. She understood why people do crazy things for love. There wasn't a cell in her body regretting getting her summer and early September got stolen by one guy. It would not have mattered if he was a server from a local café or a tattoo artist, he just happened to be one of the most famous racing drivers on the planet. She had followed him around his trips as long as her school schedule allowed, making new friends in the process and generally exploring a different way of life. Sometimes, she had to stop in order to take it all in, because his world shined just a little too bright. It took all of her free time to keep up. Once summer rolled to its very end, it started being harder for the pair. Coming back to the school environment was somewhat of a culture shock and suddenly her having her own life was making it harder to drop everything and meet him at yet another race track around the world. Their schedules seemed to be working against each other. Late night cuddles turned into late night / morning calls. Summer romance got a real hard test that October and was forced to mature real quick. And sadly, very few love affairs manage to survive this leap.

There are little things that people in love do for each other. One does not often realize that the other person had been doing these mundane gestures until they are out of sight. Lando would always put Y/N's airpods on the charger when they were together, because he knew that she would just never do that and then would complain about it endlessly. He was even looking forward to the annoyed text she'd send him two days after they parted, almost on the clock. Y/N never learned. Nor did she want to.

Y/N airpods were sitting in the pocket of her coat. Fully charged. Lando and Y/N had never spent more time together than this winter break. After few rough weeks, they got used to the changing tone of their relationship. She finally met his family and spent few very fun days at their house. Lando made fun of her afterwards, because she had been so nervous to fuck it up. He never doubted that she would do a good impression - he loved too much to think that.

Pair of hands hugged her from behind and the familiarity kicked in.

"Thought you got lost, honey," she greeted her boyfriend and potentially the love of her life (spoiler alert - yes, he really was).

"I actually kind of did, I'm sure there must be a bathroom closer that all the way back that hallway," he said, kissing her cheek softly. She was taking him home to Japan to get him introduced to her mom, which made him the proudest guy at that airport. He was worthy of getting introduced and to him, that was the biggest compliment one could give. It had been quite a hectic Christmas break for Lando so far, if he were to be honest, he was happy to get few hours alone with Y/N. On the outside, he was this cool racer chill dude. But he was also a sappy romantic, absolutely insisting on having them celebrate their anniversary on the same flight. Y/N grounded him, kept him at bay in the best way possible. He felt like the best version of himself. Which was also what he told her when they almost broke up over the phone one confusing November night. Their relationship was cut with difficult conversations and the need to untangle things, but it was strangely something Lando loved about their relationship. No stones left untouched, caring so much about each other that any shift in energy was a signal to the other party. Y/N taught him to notice things. He pushed her into making her feelings known.

"My love, our flight is cancelled for today," she said softly, not really knowing what to do. Lando usually had his travel booked by the team, so he was surprisingly not very skilled in booking things anymore. But he longed for any possibility to be the hero that saved the day, so he got to the counter and got them on tomorrow's flight, with an overnight at a hotel.

Y/N let out a sigh once he told her that there is currently no other option. She just wanted to be at her mom's place and show Lando off, like a proper proud girlfriend she was.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said, caressing her cheek. "I'll make sure you have an absolutely amazing evening with me, ok? Honestly, getting to spend an extra night with you alone is the best thing I could wish for." She looked at him and there was not a single cell in her body that would doubt what he was telling her. Even after months, every time Lando looked at her, her heart skipped a beat. Every time he embraced her, she completely melted. His skin still felt like the softest thing on this planet. His eyes were the bluest of green that had her mesmerised whenever he shared a glance at her. "There is nothing better I could wish for Christmas either," she said, kissing him softly. "Let's get to the hotel, give your mom a quick call, order a champagne and cuddle without letting anyone else know we're still in England," he whispered like a little devil on her shoulder.

"Hm, maybe we can cuddle like really fast," she insunuated, setting Lando's imagination on fire.

"I have many ideas, honey."

"Good, write them down."

"This will hardly ever skip my mind," Lando laughed lightly and the pair took off, with him having his shoulder around her, both of them hiding their faces under a cap. They soft launched their relationship in the middle of the summer, but there was still a cloud of mystery around Y/N, as she had made sure to set her socials on private. No more of a little secret hidden in a hotel room. Still, privacy was an important thing to the pair, that's why there was a whole fake social media trip happening for Lando right now to redirect attention.

So there they were, toasting with the same champagne a year later, lives intertwined and with their own set of Christmas traditions forming. Two young people with souls still undamaged by the tragedies of life, two young people not realizing how light and magical part of their life they got to call today and tomorrow. Next time you're flying somewhere, don' be a chicken and talk to your hot neighbor on the plane. You never know.

epilogue p.2

____________________________________________

personal note: thank you so much for all the support you guys gave me for this one, it has grown into my favorite story so far - mainly because I got to put in my own memories and feelings from when I accidentally started dating a semi famous sports guy while having no idea who he was, lol. it was in no way lando level kind of famous, but still, it is a great memory, so thank you for reliving it with me.

there will be blurbs of these two coming in the future, but i wanted to tie the main story to an end. but I can't wait to write more, so i'll be more than happy if you come back for some snap shots of their little moments. thank you - smutty epilogue p2. is on the way

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak  @ophcelia @leclerc13 @starmanv @k4r1402 @biitch-with-wifi @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @starmanv @formulaal @scenesofobx

[dilfjjk05]

can i ask how the boys, Geto, Toji, Nanami and Goji, would react with their f!s/o comparing their hands size? and ends up intertwining their fingers together? Thank you!! 🩷🩷

omg this is so cute! here you go!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Comparing Hands To Ending up Intertwining them.

────────────𓆩⭑♡⭑𓆪────────

──────────𓆩⭑♡⭑𓆪──────────

╰┈➤ Gojo.

"Baby?" you call out to Gojo who's currently laying on the couch.

"Yes Beautiful?"

"I saw a trend where people where comparing their hands with their partner, can we also try?" you mumble while giving him the cutest puppy ever.

"Of course baby, c'mere". He pays the space beside him on the couch. He presses his very obviously big hand against yours.

"Small ass hand you got baby" he smirks, that smirk soon turns into faint blush when you intertwine your fingers with his.

"This feels nice. Did you do that on purpose?" He chuckles softly kissing your hand.

You giggle softly. "Maybe....Maybe not, who knows?"

╰┈➤ Geto.

"And then you chop it finely" Geto reads out the instructions from the new cook book he gifted you.

"Is this much enough sugu?" you mumble while you're focused on chopping up the carrots.

"No baby, see like this" He stands behind you, his hands wrapping around yours as he shows you how to cut the carrots.

"Your hands are big sugu"

"Are they? Or maybe yours are just very small" He mumbles while being careful of not hurting you.

"Noooo! yours are big! seeee!!" you whine as you take his hand and compare yours with it.

"It's just you sugu! your hands are big!" while trying to prove your point, you subconsciously Intertwine your finger with his.

A soft smile appears on his face at the subconscious gesture, he pulls you closer and plants soft kisses all over your hand as you continue to argue that your hand isn't small.

╰┈➤ Nanami

It's finally nanami's day off, he's sitting on the couch with a book in his hands, relaxing on his day off. You're bored out of your mind, laying on his lap.

"Namiiiiiii I'm boreddddd" you whine softly, pulling into his shirt.

"I'm almost done darling" he mumbles fully focued on his book. Yet he doesn't forget to give you attention. He brings his free hand down to caress your face.

Out of habit, you move to play with his fingers. You take in on every detail of his hand, just how rough, big it is.

"Nami would I fly to the moon if you slapped me with your hand?" you ask him as you giggle softly, comparing your hand with his trying to figure out how big it really is.

"I won't ever slap you but to answer your question, yes. you would" He chuckles while placing his book down.

"How was your book nami?" You smile up at him, intertwining your fingers with his.

"It was good, but hold hands with your is the most comforting thing ever" He smiles softly, moving down to kiss your forehead.

╰┈➤ Toji.

"Hey dollface, have you seen my winter gloves?" He says walking into the bathroom where you are.

"Nope, you can use mine though" you mumble while putting your moisturizer on.

"Are you sure about that pretty?" He chuckles as he holds up his hand against yours, raising them a bit higher so you can see from the mirror.

"Oh...well. Then just freeze to death orrrrrrr"

"Or?" He raises his eyebrow.

You spin around, interlocking your fingers with his. "Just hold my hand darling" A soft giggle escapes your mouth which makes him smile as well.

"Doesn't sound that bad actually. Who needs gloves when I got you eh?" He chuckles kissing your knuckles.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

hope you like it 🥲🫶🏻

[fisheito]

Whenever you get the chance, I'd love to hear your thoughts on Yakumo so far in this event! He so shmoopy. So worble

contemplative pout at the screen🦀💭

well, this can be easily accommodated... yes, shouldn't take too long. i'll put it behind the Read More in case ppl haven't caught up on the event:

i thought we were going to have a lovely time with blade oli kuya. no yakumo to plague my senses. ahhh, a winter of joy and wonder. the snake's too busy brumating, so i won't need to worry about--- WHAT IS HE DOING HERE (yes, the angry brow that graced the Helm of my face when he popped up. insidious, that he should appear , even when it's not his featured event. BGONE)

but he's with garu and i can't really be mad at garu so i unclench my brow eventually.

then they misunderstand what "everybody" meant and then i started panicking because i was still holding onto my idea of an untouched bladeolikuya story buthtennt.....

everybody.... everybody means... EVERYBOdy..... ohoohoohohohoo... the whole gang??!? don't mDInd if I dOOO

god morv you really are not worried. that's ok. brainless wonderment will get us the polyclan we deserve

then there's the ONE MOMENT where dante and yakumo stand next to each other without yakumo shrinking away in fear (because he's too busy having a sob over Merry's story) and i felt so incredibly stupid in my rarepairinating like. ah. i understand now. when people got so excited over characters just STANDING next to each other. THEY'RE NOT EVEN INTERACTING. THEYRE JUST NEXT TO EACH OTHER, AND THERE IS NO MEANING TO IT.

AND YET.................... [back on my yakudan nonsense. just ignore it]

and OOOOOOHHHHHH PART 13 BELOVED PART 13 BUMPER BOAT FIASCO

amazing, wonderful, i eat my words from before about not wanting everyone at the fair, no notes, carry on.

i was SO happy when i saw yakumo was paired with blade because that means he's in for a ROUGH RIDE AHAHAHAHAHAHAA

(smooshes them together) bladeyaku. another pair i want to see together more often. suffering circumstances together (well, mosztly yaku suffering. blade is pretty adept at having a good time whereverwhenever)/.

HOOOO boy . HELPLESS in that boat USELESS passenger princess or rather, passenger princess held hostage...? i wonder if he gets motion sickness. i wonder what's keeping him inside the boat. are there seatbelts? (thinks back to Blasting Off Again✨) huh/. i guess not. HAH!

ugh i loved everyone in their silly pairs (trio, in rei's case)

tho now i'm wondering how exactly blade and yakumo were sent flying. my understanding of physics is 😬, so i don't know the exact scenario that would result in the most bladeyaku airtime.

blade invited karu to play... so he knew he was approaching

if karu and blade headed toward each other at similar speeds, they would probably bounce back at similar rates so wouldn't karukuya also be flying away with bladeyaku?

but whAT if, after blade invites karu over and karu starts going FULL SPEED toward them but blade suddenly... stops. just, all motion on the boat ceases. somehow. not even a ripple. he hums patiently. and yakumo's just shaking out of his slippers like ummmmmmmm mr blade theyre coming closer why arent we----

THEN BAM!!!!!!!! TRANSFER OF FORCE!!!!!!! blade yaku fly into the sky!?!?! ... even then,, i'm wondering how they got the vertical in there

if karu rammed em at MegaSpeed, wouldn't they just float backward, or spin around really fast while still on the surface of the water? or was karu's speed SO destructive that as soon as the impact happened the tidal wave following him caught up, and lifted bladeyaku into the air =airborne droidsnake.

RIDICULOUS. i guess i'll never know for sure. it's tough to argue with results, though.

i will now take a moment to thank @fallencelsetial for sending me this recording:

very soothing. exactly what i needed. thank u

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) epilogue

Previously

"Do you think I'll make a good father?"

Steve looked up from his laptop at the question. Eddie was staring at the calendar on the kitchen wall, arms crossed. He turned his gaze to Steve when he took too long to answer.

"I don't know how to break it to you, but you already are a father. And a damn fine one at that."

"Well, Shawn's easy, you already did most of the training."

Steve snorted. "He hasn't even hit double digits yet. There's still plenty more training to go. And take it from someone who works at Puberty Central, it gets rough."

Eddie came behind Steve and leaned over to hug him from behind. "You think infants are easier than teens?"

"I think every age group has a unique set of challenges", Steve said.

"Spoken like a true educator."

--------------------------

Steve sighed as he finished turning down his room. Wrapping things up for summer always made him a little melancholy. But now that he was two months pregnant, there was an extra layer to it. Next year, he wouldn't be able to do this. If he was pushing it, he could stay in class until winter break. That might be too much for his body though.

He leaned back to crack his spine and put a hand to his belly. He was barely showing. It was possible to see a slight roundness from under his shirt though.

"Wait... you're pregnant?!"

"Dustin, why are you still here?", Steve tried to sound firm but he feared it may have come out as adoring. The few kids who had actually come on the last day of school were supposed to be in the auditorium, watching a movie.

"Mr. Clarke's letting us poach some stuff from his room he doesn't need anymore."

Ah, as Mr. Clarke usually did. Steve didn't even need him to clarify which 'us' Dustin meant. He had a crew he was pretty loyal to.

"Yes, Mr. Henderson. I'm pregnant."

"Does that mean you're not gonna teach us next year?"

Steve smiled at him. "It was already in the cards bud, I don't teach eighth grade."

"Yeah but I mean, you won't be here?"

He could sense the frustration in Dustin's voice and knew change could be hard. End of year always seemed to bring on big emotions, even if it was just moving from seventh to eight grade.

"I'll be here at the beginning of the year. But I'll have to get ready for this little scholar before you know it. And then there was the leave he got after having the pup. Still, their little bean was due in January, so Steve was sure he and Eddie could figure something out so that Steve didn't have to go too long without teaching while still getting some bonding time with his pup.

"You could've talked it over with your students first. I mean this seems like a pack decision", Dustin said, arms crossed.

"Sure kid. The next time I decide to have a pup, I'll run it through my students first."

"That's all I'm asking", Dustin said just as quick footsteps stopped to a skid and suddenly there wasn't one but a whole group of students in his doorway.

"Mr. H is pregnant?!"

--------------------------

Steve was fanning himself. It was July and he was trying to stand the heat for as long as he could, but it was getting to be too much. He turned to Eddie to complain to a sympathetic ear, only to see his mate looking at him with the most adoring expression.

"What?"

"You're glowing!", he gushed.

"I don't feel like it."

"Sweetheart, we can always head back inside. You don't have to fight the sun."

"I'm gonna be too big to feel like moving before we know it. Get ready to carry me everywhere", Steve said in a tone that suggested it was both a promise and a threat.

Eddie compromised by bring Steve another ice cold lemonade. Shawn was having the time of his life playing with the other kids as the neighborhood block party went on. He deserved to revel in the summertime just as other kids.

--------------------------

Hot summer days turned to warm summer nights and after a cold shower, Steve was ready to lounge in bed. And of course, be pampered by his mate. Eddie climbed in beside him and then slid down until he was face to face with Steve's bump. Eddie nuzzled it and kissed Steve all over.

It was hard to believe he was due in January. It felt like such a long wait and yet just around the corner.

"Have I told you lately how perfect you are?", Eddie asked.

"Are you talking to me or our little bean?"

"To you. And I think we can both agree she's a bit more than a bean now", Eddie said.

"'She'? You're taking Shawn's side now?"

"Gotta go with the winning hand. He was right about you and me. AND he knew how Charlotte's Web ended!"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Eddie, that movie is decades old. Plus you're the one who had a whole lesson on the life cycle of spiders."

"I'm keeping my stance. That boy knows what's comin'. And he knows you've got a little princess in there."

"If you say so", Steve chuckled.

"Which makes you a queen..."

"Mhm", Steve tried to look unaffected but his scent gave him away as Eddie removed his underwear. His body had taken on a slightly creamier scent. One that Eddie just couldn't get enough of. Especially at the source.

"And every queen needs a what?", Eddie prompted, pulling them both onto their sides, a position that was easiest, given how Steve was growing.

"Their throne", Steve finished, turning his head into his pillow as Eddie's mouth came upon him.

---------------------------

Steve was pretty used to being on the parent side of parent-teacher conferences. But it was Eddie's first time on this end of the desk, so he was a little nervous. He knew the third grade teacher well enough. And so far, Shawn hadn't come home with any problems.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington. And good to see you, Mr. Munson.

"Mr. Reed", Eddie nodded.

"I'll cut straight to the point so that Mr. Munson can get back to his own conferences. I was a bit surprised at one of Shawn's assignments."

He pulled something from Shawn's folder. A drawing of the three of them, Steve's belly big and round, Eddie's hair all over the place, and Shawn with a huge smile. It was labeled too. Except-

"It caught me off guard that one of last year's spelling be champs would misspell a word."

'Me' was written under Shawn. 'Dad' was under Steve. And written under the drawing of Eddie was 'Daddie'. Once they saw it though, both parents sagged in relief.

"It's something Shawn started doing recently", Steve began to explain. "He still calls me Daddy and when we started to grow our family, he decided he needed a way to differentiate between the two of us."

"So I was christened 'Daddie' with an -ie. It's mixed with my name and I think that's incredibly clever, don't you?", Eddie asked.

"Oh!", Mr. Reed said when he realized. "Well that's different. -ahem- Moving on..."

------------------------------

"So how did this one compare to the last?", Eddie asked, wiping sweat off of Steve's forehead.

"Ask me again when I don't hate you for what you've done to me", Steve said, still feeling plenty raw from pushing another human being out of himself.

He was feeling much better when his pup was cleaned and and returned to him. His heart swelled and he cooed, welcoming his pup into the world. Shawn and Eddie had been right. He'd given birth to a beautiful little girl. Eddie couldn't believe how lucky he was to have been there for Steve when Shawn was born and now again for his own pup. The two of them were given time to bond with their baby before Robin brought Shawn in.

His eyes got wide at the tiny bundle that was swaddled up in Steve's arms. Eddie got Shawn set up in a chair next to the bed and showed him how to hold a newborn before letting him hold her.

"Meet your sister", Steve beamed. "Stephanie Rose Harrington."

Shawn's head snapped up. "You used it for a middle name?!"

"It's a good name", Eddie said. "Pretty fitting for our little rosebud." He was already thinking of where to get a new tattoo to commemorate her birth.

Shawn looked back down at his baby sister. Her ruddy cheeks, how everything about her was impossibly small. She yawned and suddenly Shawn burst into tears, prompting both of his parents to worry.

"Shawn, what's wrong?", Steve asked.

It took a couple of sobs for Shawn to calm himself down enough to speak well enough for them to understand. "I don't-hic-I don't want anything to happen to her!"

And well, that made Steve start to cry because he understood. Eddie grabbed Stephanie and handed her over to Steve, then he gathered Shawn in a hug, picking him up off his feet.

"I promise with everything I am, nothing ever gonna happen to her. Or to you. Not ever again."

Shawn's arms went around his dad as he let it all out. Steve wiped his tears and Robin waited for them to put themselves together again before making them gather for a family photo. Steve knew Eddie would do everything he could to protect their family. It was every omega's dream for an alpha to devote themselves like that. But even more importantly, Steve knew the danger would never come from within their home. And that meant everything to him.

--------------------

Linking this bc I used a few prompts from here.

[orangeinecstasy]

ross boyfriend thoughts ฺ｡*:･

an: hey everyone! one person told me they wanted a ross bf thoughts and because i can't control myself and because i love him sm i did it! also i tried a new format, lmk what you think!

cw: fluff and smut sections

cute simple dates

i already know ross is such a big romantic and would do something super amazing, like plan a whole day for the two of you. but i just know that he loves the cute little dates that you guys do. like going to brunch or having a movie night-- he's pretty much putty in your hand at those points. even if it's something random, like the two of you being up late at night, cooking a meal together, and dancing around the kitchen.

remembers all the things you like and buys them when he sees them

once again, big romantic. if he's at the shop or even in a different country and sees something you mentioned liking or wanted to try he's, of course, buying it.

doing his hair

there have been multiple moments where you braided his hair just because you could. i'm sure he puts on a front where he doesn't want to do it but ends up loving you messing with his hair and how happy it makes you.

constantly wearing his clothes

he loves seeing you in his clothes and how comfortable and safe they make you feel. i know it just warms his heart knowing something so simple that he does indirectly can give you so much joy.

semi-frequent pet name user

i don't think he uses them a ton, like he doesn't force it but lets it happen naturally. definitely lots of "loves" and "babes". doesn't mind at all you using pet names for him.

little spoon lover

i can see him after tour is over and just wanting to be in your arms and have you play with his hair. you make him feel safe and comforted and seen and he's not ashamed about that.

cold winter mornings

on the balcony together having a smoke with a cup of coffee. his arms are wrapped around your waist and he's pressing your back closer to his chest to preserve the warmth between you. you guys chat about anything and probably end up going back to bed.

100% a he fell first and harder

you guys probably met through friends and you'd already known about him a little bit. of course your friend hyped him up before you met him and as soon as his eyes landed on you he knew you were the one.

treasures of yours with him all the time

this is more of an on-tour thing, but i feel like he keeps one of your hair ties around his wrist or a photo of you in his wallet. little things like that so that you feel close to him

smut below the pictures

size kink

he loves the innocence of it. how just because he's bigger than you he can overpower you in so many ways. how doe eyes look up at him through lashes like you don't know what you're doing. how he can grip both of your wrists as he plows into you. just everything about it makes him go crazy.

hair pulling

i think this one is pretty self explanatory. i mean how could you not when it's right there?

munch, duh

he constantly wants to eat you out to the point where it's become another food group to him. if he had a rough day or if you did. if he's bored. he could be in-between your legs for hours if you let him pulling every orgasm out of you until you're pushing his head away to stop.

pleasure/soft dom

he just wants to make you feel as good as possible as much as he can, to the point where he's accidentally overstimulating you. i have an inking that he feels a little bit guilty when he gives out punishments, but good pets have to learn how to behave, right? (once he sees how much you love it, the guilt turns into pleasure)

sir kink

i started off really simple. you asked you to do something for him and you responded with "yes, sir." and he felt something wash over him. you could feel the energy in the room thicken after that moment until he broke and fucked you over the counter until "sir" was the only thing you could say.

wax play

blindfolds you and ties you up so you can't pull away as he watches your body's reaction to him pouring small amounts of wax on your skin. especially loves pouring it over your tits so he can sloppily mouth it off.

choking

he loves seeing you sloppy and drooly and purring underneath him, and choking only allows him to see that even sooner.

possessive

this is in and out of the bedroom. though it's not in an aggressive way, he wants you to know he's yours and you're his, and he doesn't have a problem with fucking that knowledge back into you.

cockwarming

so so innocent. he just wants to be close to you. if you're doing something for work or if he's working in the studio he'll always make it an option. especially during late nights when you're both too tired to fuck but want to feel something.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

27 - The Winter Rose

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)

Length: 16.5k

Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, descriptions of blood and violence, mentions of character death, imprisonment, minor self harm, discussions of miscarriage and child loss, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, possessiveness

Notes: I'm sure this chapter title and the last chapter title have no deeper meaning whatsoever. Nope just totally, utterly random. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here

You were thankful Maester Pylos was easier going then most, meaning he was quick enough and familiar enough with you to listen when you told him not to ask anything about it. His eyes were drawn right to the scar as he looked over your bruised ribs, but he kept his word and said nothing regarding it. At least for the most part. As he moved on to carefully cleaning the somewhat still bloody wound on your forearm he did however comment in jest, “Should I be concerned if these ones do not heal? That might make acquiring more in battle leave you looking a little worse for wear, your grace.” 

You huffed a laugh before wincing. “Don’t, I’m in too much pain to laugh.” Glancing out the open window to the night sky, your eyes narrowed in a weary thought before finding that voice. “Pylos, when did Maester Cressen...”

He pause in his work as he glanced up almost in an apologetic manner. “Not long after the start of the war. He-” Trying to cut himself off before you sat up straighter to look at him did he feel the pressure to continue. “I mean not to speak ill of him, but it was at his own hand. Poison in a goblet of wine, hoping to share a toast with the red woman. It worked on him, but not her.” 

Both looking at the other in a dreaded silence, neither were sure what to make of it. Even now, with what you had lived and Pylos had seen. You swallowed heavily before relaxing a bit to let him continue in quiet. “Who else?” His eyebrows raised and your voice found itself lowering in roughness. “Who else is gone? Because of this woman?” 

Sighing deeply, Pylos pulled away. Sitting back as he looked sympathetically. “There was your uncles. Lord Renly first, then Ser Axell-” Your head shot up in a confusion for a moment repeating his name as Pylos nodded. “Yes. Your father had allowed the red woman to..burn alive those who did not convert to the Lord of Light, and Ser Axell was amongst them.” 

Your heart sunk in your chest, what had you allowed this woman to turn you into father? 

“One of your own cousins was to be sacrificed until Ser Davos betrayed his grace’s word and aided the boy in escaping-” You repeated the word cousin with more confusion and he seemed surprised you had not known this information. “A bastard boy of Robert’s. The red woman had need of King’s blood for her witchcraft, and sought out a living bastard of Roberts and brought him here with intent to sacrifice.” 

Heart skipping a beat, you heard not the footsteps approaching the door from the winding stairwell up to the top of the Sea Dragon Tower. “Robert had..well he has many bastards in King’s Landing, which one did my father bring here?” 

You did not like the pause, the sorrow of something you hadn’t known. “I am so sorry, I did not realize you hadn’t known...” The pairs of feet stood outside the door, one hand holding out in front of the other figure to give a moment for both to listen. “King Joffery..he had ordered..he had ordered his City Watch to find and execute all of Robert’s bastard children. He believed that they posed a threat to his claim should the rumours of his mother and the Ser Jaime Lannister to be true. Only one remains as far as we know..”

You wanted to ask who, but the answer was sickening no matter what, because it was a boy he said. Not the innocent life of a tiny baby girl in the arms of her young, sweet mother who knew none better. What was her name? Barra? That was it, the little girl with already growing dark hair and green eyes that shined up at you when she woke up in her mother’s arms. 

Lord Baelish had never specified how many of them were out there, but you could only imagine the truth. You had on more then one occasion come across the outside of his chambers, Ser Jaime Lannister posed morosely outside forced to listen to your uncle with however many women he drew into his bed that time. It was one of the few times in those last few months before Lord Arryn’s death that you and the Lannister had found genuine common ground. 

That both of you found it nothing but an insult to force a brother to listen to his King insult his sister, no matter how little love existed in such a marriage. You both had joked how judging by the sounds, you couldn’t tell if it was worse if the number of women he had inside was more or less then the number you had thought of. Watching girl after girl leave and sometimes return or a new one would show, and how many of them had sons or daughters which now lay dead at your repulsive cousins hands? 

Before Pylos could speak more of it, the door to his study opened and the tense air was cut short as both Jon and Ser Davos walked in. Pylos making motion to stand only to be stopped by Jon offhandedly waving off the need of a gesture of formality. Yourself however, stood as you and Davos looked to one another, a full volume of regret somewhere behind his eyes. “Your Grace, I came to apologize.” 

Were Jon’s head and heart not still racing in something treading close to anger, he may have found the strength in him to laugh at how easily you dismissed that, almost not even having realized there was any slight to apologize for. “Unless you’ve committed a crime in the hours since I last saw you, you haven’t done anything I’ve taken offence with. You've known me my whole life, that allows you to think I'm an idiot sometimes.”

Almost dropping his face a bit more flat as he looked at you, tone a bit heavier but more flat as well thankfully. “What has the world come to, when it’s easier to apologize to Stannis than it is you?” Both of you had a small laugh at such, you stepping forward as Pylos gave more space to those all in the room. 

Crossing your arms there was a beat passed between you before your own voice found the right words, “I should be the one to apologize. After what happened to Matthos..being on the other side of it wouldn’t make it any easier, it was the best option we had but that doesn’t change..” Something unsaid between both of you, and it wasn’t your place or anyone's but Davos himself to truly bring it up all on his own volition. “What I’m trying to say is, I am the one whose sorry.” 

The room was quiet as was his own voice a little far away with a tinge of amusement. “Don’t imagine it’s good manners to reject a Queen’s apology.” 

Only that made you laugh, and laugh hard enough that you had to stop mid way through with a wince at your ribs. “You should hear the way some of my own men speak to me, I’m not what one would call particular with manners anymore.” Your eyes shifted a bit more stern however, a question tinted on your lips to follow. “Dare I ask whats been done with our new prisoners?” 

“Most of the Golden Company has been put in the main dungeons, none to happy with how crowded it is but least they’re far enough down we won’t hear them complain.” Nodding, brows narrowing as he read that too. “As for our honoured guests,” a twist of jest in his tone matching his expression to choose his words carefully. “They’ve been put in separate cells for now, Connington requesting one for each of them away from the other.” 

All four in the room found something strange in such a thought, but there was little to ponder over it in the moment. Jon had been standing some feet back, arms crossed over his chest with a dark, narrowed anger in his eyes that matched the rough strain held back in his own voice. “If they are willing to cooperate I can work something out with Stannis. Their army in the dungeon, I have no reason to keep them there as well. If they hear us out they might be of some help, if not, I see no reason they can’t at least have freedom to stay here or leave.” 

You nodded, having not a clue what such a conversation with your father would look like and yet it seemed most of the reasonable ones anymore were between him and Jon now. Working together in White Harbour was the most you had gotten along with him since he was still in King’s Landing. It was not your place to question that, nor did you feel the need too. As long as whatever he wanted, wasn’t going to push Jon into anything he didn’t want. 

All was quiet as the three of you now walked the halls back towards the ground level, you finding specific instructions to Davos. “Gather enough men to check around the curtain cliffs for structural damage. It’s hard enough getting around this place without those paths getting cut off. And tell Amos to start clearing the bay when the rest of it has put itself out. I don’t want our shores turning into a graveyard.” 

Making his leave, you found enough drive still flowing through you that you had thought to tun to Jon with something else entirely on your mind only to have him glance down the hall, before his face twisted in a deep irritation. Grabbing you by the arm and all but hauling you into a small alcove just around an empty corner. Crowding you in and instant, hands roughly holding you by your upper arms as he looked you over, the blood and grime he found even more minimal then it was still on himself before letting them fly up to cup your cheeks.

His hold was tender, but the raggedness in his voice certainly was not. “What in Seven Hells did you think you were doing out there?” 

If the look in his eyes weren’t such a brightness that yet gleaned with something desperate you may have teased him, but instead your heart only dropped further then it sat within your chest. You noticeably, did not reach out to him in anyway. “We needed Connington to surrender, I did what needed to be done. “

“By putting yourself in danger?” Trying to defend yourself, Jon cut you off with his voice trying to raise but being unwilling to go anything near a yell this close to you. “What happened if you lost?”

You on the other hand, were a bit louder but high pitched in an unsure lack of confidence as he stared you down. “Aegon wasn't about to give up, he wasn't going to go willingly I had to do something.” 

This time, something uncomfortable had boiled in Jon’s chest and did in fact, come out as a yell with an anger rushing through. His hands on your face dropped as he tried to turn away, only getting a few feet away before his face still twisted in anger faced you again. 

“I never would’ve let you anywhere near this fight if I knew this was what you were going to do.” If he expected you to argue, you didn’t. Deep down he knew you wouldn’t. His voice a little quieter but just as on edge as he ran a hand across his mouth before he turned closer to point at you almost in a lecture. “I shouldn’t even let you within fifty feet of a sword if you think your best chance is to always throw yourself at the enemy first.” 

Again, you didn’t fight him in any way. Instead your nails dug into the skin of your other fingertips as your arms sat tensely at your side, jaw clenching as you flickered between his face and the ground beside him. 

Your voice far more quiet and unsure then his anger. “I’m the one who actually saw you dead, you know.” His eyes narrowed briefly but you looked away again. “You weren’t there, you didn’t see me at the Twins. You weren’t the one between us who sat there staring at your corpse all beacuse you were a few hours too late to stop it. First time you felt my scar was when I was alive, I felt yours when you were dead long enough down there your skin was turning blue.” 

He had barley moved, and your voice hadn’t raised. It wavered in between upset and something darker but you just stood quiet and stiff, Jon trying to gently call your name but your jaw clenched further. A shake of your head before you continued to stare away from him. “You’re so afraid of losing me out there but I know exactly what you look like when you’re dead. You don’t think I hate not being strong enough to be at your side, to have your back if no one else does? Or do you think it’s just easy for me to imagine coming up after a battle and seeing you on the ground exactly like you were that morning?” 

You looked up to him finally and found instead all the anger had transferred to your eyes, only a heartbreaking softness left in his, but now as Jon stood there you knew he wasn’t certain if reaching out to you again was a good idea. Not when you were this on edge. 

“Do you really think I’m fine with the fact that I’m too weak to protect you?” 

He wanted to reach out to you so badly but you’d flinch away from him the second he even twitched in your direction. His grey eyes swimming with that need however and could not hide it from your own eyes distant in a pain. Your name murmured on his lips, “Why do you think I asked you if you wanted to learn how to use a sword?” Your eyebrow raised in confusion, “That night in Winterfell, why do you think I wanted to teach you when I caught you looking at the practice swords?” 

It was still one of you fondest memories of that visit. How you had been so caught off guard he swiped at your legs and it sent you knocking to the ground. Looking up in confused anger to see a fourteen year old Jon, that dashing smirk on his lips as he swung his own practice one around in one hand looking down at you. His voice at that point already having developed so close to the deep raspiness it was to this day. 

He had teased you about not turning your back on your enemies before helping you up. Accepting the shove you gave him.

Risking taking a step forward, you tensed a little as you looked away but you otherwise did not try and back away from him. Jon’s voice growing softer as he spoke, trying to coax your eyes to his. “I never thought you’d ever need it. Never thought you’d find yourself having a life where you’d need to protect yourself like that. I only asked if you wanted to learn how, beacuse I wanted an excuse to spend time alone with you.” 

Your eyes didn’t meet his, but you looked closer, enough that the gaze now trained on Longclaw sat at his side, brows slightly narrowed. “You spent plenty of time with me, in those days.” 

Jon risked another step forward, and you tried not to let it choke up inside you how careful he tended to be when he could see whenever you were in a more high strung state. He always knew exactly when and how far to keep his distance until you settled enough. “Not the way I wanted. You spent most of your days working beside my father and when you weren’t there was always something trying to take your time away from me. It was an excuse to spend time with you and no one would be around to interrupt.” 

Glancing more up, you found the blood splattered across his chest plate, somewhat covering the direwolves. You more mumbled then anything, not having the ability to argue at the best of times with Jon. “I didn’t learn how to use a bow to set a thousand men on fire, but that came in handy when the time needed it.” 

Jon’s hands itched but he kept them to himself. “Never in my life did I think teaching you all those years ago meant you’d be putting your life in danger beacuse of it. I didn’t think you’d ever have any use for it, and I don’t expect you to do it now.” 

It was a mistake looking up, his grey eyes were so wide and bright. A shine to them which radiated something so beautiful as it echoed against the rest of his face. How more women didn’t fall madly in love with Jon, you did not understand. Because even now, they were enough to make you melt enough he stepped within a foot of you. You tried to speak multiple times, but ultimately let a sigh out as you looked away from him in your own frustration. “I knew if I could get him alone, I might be able to overwhelm him quicker then he could me.

Looking back up at him, neither of you held any anger anymore. You both hated having to be together in a life full of blood. You hated it with Robb, and you hated it now. None of the lives you ever planned out as a wishful little girl included this much war and death. Jon tilted your head up with a tender touch at your jaw, making you meet his eyes as he leaned close enough you could feel his breathe dancing across your skin. 

His other hand reached out, grasping your hand to guide it to his waist before settling his on yours, almost a prompt to tell you to let your other do the same thing. Which you obeyed. His tone was as gentle as he could make it, light and airy as he gently pressed a kiss to your forehead before meeting your eyes again. “And if Aegon had killed you, I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him myself.” The almost loving tone as he ran his hand on your jaw along the skin to your cheek contrasted quite strangely with the dedicated violence of his words. “You’re duty isn’t to put yourself in danger, and it’s my duty to keep you safe. I’m only asking you to stop making my job so hard.” 

Finally, he had managed to pull a breathy laugh from you. Him returning one back, leaning a bit more into you with his own mesmerizing smile as he did so. One of your hands on his waist jumped up, going from there right up to dancing your fingertips along his chest plate, not caring much to avoid the blood as he you traced over the direwolves. “I didn’t do it to scare you.” 

“I know.” His hand moved to run across the back of your head, his fingers clearly toying with the idea of pulling your hair loose as he was there. “I’m not trying to make it seem like I want to control you, it..I hate that I can’t always be there to protect you. I know you can take care of yourself, but you shouldn’t have to. And I know I have to work on that, on accepting that.” 

Nodding, the air between you both felt much less suffocating then before. Hard to overcome the fact that you found it scary, the idea of arguing with Jon. He felt things deeply and intensely, and you hated the thought that you could ever be the one to set him off in a bad way. Especially in moments like this, his grey eyes so soft and full painted towards you and hands gentle like you were the delicate thing to treasure in his touch. 

Letting your hands reach up and cup the sides of his cheek and jaw, he moved with you in an instant as if reading every inch of your mind. Leaning down to meet you half way, the second his lips gently brushed against yours, he moved to grab your waist to steady you against him. Nothing more then a gentle dance without pushing the other too far, and yet Jon’s hands kept growing tighter despite the kiss growing no more heated. 

The second a tiny sigh slipped from you as you parted, a light dizziness in your head with a satisfied hum along with it however, was a step too far. Jon’s hands suddenly dropping down to your hips, and the innocence of the moment died out as he, somewhat roughly, pushed you against the wall. His lips kissing you harshly, deepening it the second you grabbed at his shoulders with a whine, crowding you against it before letting one hand slip to the back of your head. 

This time, he pulled out the ties keeping your hair up without needing a single glance. Running through the loose strands before yanking your head to tilt up so he could press against you entirely. Biting at your lip only once before demanding you let him slip his tongue inside your mouth, running along yours as the hold on your hair was keeping your lips from being able to part from him whatsoever.

It was the exact same thing as before it seemed, you with nothing but innocent intentions and Jon let it consume him like an inhuman force blinding him with a raw lust. Your hands reached up to let his hair loose but were caught in their path as Jon all but shoved your legs apart, moving a knee to invade the space between. As he shoved that same knee up against between your legs, he used his grip on your hip to grind you down against it, powerless against his strength to stop it. 

Biting your lips, running his tongue along yours and tasting your mouth with an increasing demand and greed as he started to guide your hips to move in a harsh but slow grind. Too many layers keeping you from feeling it so directly, but Jon was unfair in how strong he was and he kept you pressed against him as he moved you along until he felt your hands shake against your hold on his shoulders. 

Your insides burned as his did, screaming in fire at you, but not to be put out. A pleasure that twisted and turned like a coil to snap at any moment begging him to throw you into the flames at his own mercy, and your heart raced so much those across the castle were like to hear it pounding. It was as if something took over, pulling finally from your lips as his eyes now black as the night outside looked into yours. 

His lips red and swollen as he hadn’t pulled from you enough to break the small strands of saliva his kiss brought between you. Lips parted he breathed heavily until he looked down, keeping you against his knee as one hand now flew to find just enough room at the edge of your pants to slip down. 

Jon’s mind aggressively thinking about how much he wanted to be home. Bring you home to Winterfell so he could go back to you having the freedom to walk around in your beautiful dresses and there would be not a thing in his way but your tiny layer of fabric that he could soak you through in seconds.

Teeth almost gritting as he hissed, finding your clit as the rest of your core was shoved too tightly against his knee, still moving you against him only now his fingers pushed more. Running harsh and tightly over the sensitive spark before almost twisting it as if it were the small buds on your breasts he would roughly yank at, twist so cruelly but on something now that made you cry out. 

His mouth covered yours instantly, brows furrowed as he did so as if he was angry someone might have heard you. Running your covered core along his knee and his fingers rubbing, twisting and playing with your clit as he licked his way back into your mouth, keeping you unable to moan out loud or catch your breathe. Tensing hard in his arms, Jon pushed his knee up firmer and forced your hips down as much as he could as he ran his fingers tightly and twisted the core in you so suddenly. 

But you tensed up, gasped into his kiss and then nothing. He pulled away. Again. His hand, his knee, even his lips. He stood almost a foot away from you, hands now steadying you by your upper arms again as you felt so stinging you wanted to cry. Three times now, and it was starting to be painful each time he refused you. Husking down at you, accent so thick only you could understand it from being so close, “Please, don’t ever put yourself in danger like that again.” 

Almost unable to speak through the thick fog in your head you nodded, but he pulled you by a hand at your chin so as he spoke his lips brushed yours. “I want you to promise me, darling. Promise you’ll never do anything like that again.” 

You weren’t in the right mind to guess which, but you wondered far off if he had done this on purpose or not. Put you in such a desperate state to get you to agree to anything he’d ask, or was this just out of his own worried panic over your safety fighting with some darker need he held for you? 

Either way, your hands ran along his chest plate again as you nodded,“I won’t. I won’t do it again, I promise.” Looking to his eyes, they were almost seen as water hidden behind their depths as he looked at you almost heartbreakingly. “Jon..” You bit your lip almost nervously to ask, it sounding too innocent in your airy tone for such a request, “Could..we...” 

But Jon only kissed you again, one last bite to your bottom lip as his tongue ran gently over the marks his teeth left and pulling back again. His hand cupping the back of your hair once more, the other now gentle on your waist. “No.” Your eyes squeezed closed in frustration as he kissed your forehead again, speaking against the skin there too. “But I want you to start keeping track of how often I don’t let you.” 

Your brows furrowing as your heart still beat loud in your ears, “Why?” 

He pressed another kiss to your forehead, this time more gentle and loving. Resting his own against it as he curled the hand on your waist around your lower back to pull you more into a gentle embrace. “Because however many times I take it away from you, I’m going to double. Give you twice as many to make up for it whenever I fuck you. You’re looking at how many? Six? Eight?” 

You actually laughed, and so did he. Your head falling onto his shoulder as you shook with an exhausted laughter. “Remember that day in the wolfswood when I admitted I didn’t know what having one feels like? I’ve decided I regret ever telling you that now.” He asked why and you could hear the grin, “Because you only let me have one after doing this exact thing three times then.” 

Jon didn’t respond right away, but it wasn’t even in lust he retorted. Almost just enough in a dry tone that you would smack him for being a smart ass, were you still children. “If I’m adding those three, then we are up to at least twelve.” You sighed, and he grinned more. Pulling you against his chest with both arms, one more around the back of your head now as yours were at his waist. “Keep talking, darling. I’ll keep adding them. I’ll be between your legs sun down to sun up at this pace.” 

Sometimes it was hard to tell if your fathers men gave a hard time just to see how long your resolve would put up with it. You had been going back and forth before the man finally accepted the orders and made his leave. 

The deep rumbling of a familiar voice came up to your side as you stood watching the men around the main gates working to clear and clean of the dead. “I’d throw them off the sides of that cliff before I let a lanky shit talk to me like that.” 

Glancing up to your right to find Tormund watching the same as you did before glancing to you with an amused raise in an eyebrow. You turned back with little expression, voice as flat and done with this night as before. “I grew up here. Known most of these men my whole life, they talk to me like that because they know I let them. They certainly wouldn’t speak to my father that way.” 

You tried not to glance to where he was in the distance. You felt a bit conflicted on how to handle things. On one hand, you were greatly thankful for him in just the blood spilling hours before and yet Pylos’s words rung in your mind and you couldn’t stop thinking of it. You didn’t know about your uncle, he was your mother’s own brother as well how much had been burned to dust and bone on these shores? 

“You did well.” Glancing back up at him with curiosity, “On the cliff. You did well, not an easy climb that kind of rock but I was impressed. You and the Greyjoy.” 

Smirking you shrugged a shoulder before crossing your arms over your torso. “Should I in return congratulate or apologize that your daughters husband lives to see another day?” He chuckled deeply, and it brought a smirk out of you. Taking a moment to let it simmer before you turned to something more on the side of quiet. “Would you have it in you to do more of that, or was this a one and done sort of deal?” 

Turning to face you with an amused interest, he played just as coy. “Depends on the pretty crow’s offer.” 

You however jumped right to the point. “The mines we’re here for, there’s tunnels all under the island but the easier ones to access are still mostly untouched. I have a few I know that I’ve worked my way through, but before I bring any of the others down there, I need to make sure I have everything in place so I can at the least have people get down to the main surface floor without scaling untouched walls in the dark. Would be nice to have someone who knows what they’re doing down with me.”

Tormund smirked, “Not even a challenge, between you and me, we could have those tunnels ready in a few hours we leave early enough.” You nodded appreciatively, back to looking at the winding stones some now had worked to wash the blood from. “I’d ask how early we should start tomorrow but I have a feeling it won’t be so easy convincing Snow to let you out of bed, to go spend time in a confined dark space with another man so soon.” Your eyes narrowed in confusion as he laughed. “Your fancy castle is large, but it doesn’t hide as much as you think.” 

Your voice cracked as you suddenly hoped the earth would open and drop you into the sea. “I’m not sure I know what you are implying.” 

Tormund leaned in, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and dragged you into his side without care. “All the advice I’ve given him, and he didn’t even let you cum.” Perhaps you could climb to the top of Dragonmont and dive into the molten liquid if you ran fast enough. “Could join you, let me teach him by example, how to treat a woman right if he’s that fucking cruel. Show him what he’s missing out on with you.” The grin in his voice was so thick as you knew your face was flushed and mortified. 

Barley finding the confidence to mumble out, “You’re getting closer and closer to me shoving you off the edge of the mine, Tormund. Right at the very top.” 

There was no noise except for the echo of footsteps as they walked down the corridor. Much torchlight hung by the walls and there were enough in each heavy iron door that you knew at least he would be sitting in more then darkness. As the guards opened the door, you nodded at them pointedly. “Leave us.” 

The door closing behind with a loud clang keeping you in the open space of the dungeon cell, and a thick set of metal bars adorning the second half of the room keeping him apart. Sat on the ground with one knee bend up towards him and the other splayed out on the ground, the heaviest of his armour having been taken off him and he now looked quite like an ordinary man. 

His eyes met yours with a curiosity. Your voice was low and even with nothing to give away in tone or even your face. “Do you know who I am?” 

His answer at least was simple in response of your name, ending with Baratheon before he paused and corrected himself with little effort in him put forth. “Or, I suppose it’s Snow isn’t it? If we are being proper, that is.” 

It made sense you supposed in your mind. Jon Snow was King in the North, and you were Queen at his side and most would presume so due to marriage. But it wasn’t anything worth the effort to correct him on. You didn’t come down here to discuss Jon. 

Looking at Jon Connington you could see the shorter dark orange of his hair that gave his face more youth then the lines and exhaustion blessed him otherwise. “You requested to be away from your men, may I inquire as to why?” 

Glancing up at you, his own eyes narrowed trying to sense the double agenda in your question but you knew he would find none. You played no games now. He sighed deeply, looking back at the adjacent wall with a morose tone. “I led sell swords here, not an army. They aren’t too forgiving of failure, even less so with being forced to surrender. It was safer to put me and him on our own, and I knew you wouldn’t let us together.” 

Giving him one nod before inhaling deeply as you looked at him now with more curiosity. “The Golden Company has never successfully taken anything in Westeros before, they will come back around from this. We out numbered you, more than you suspected we would if I am guessing correctly.” 

Laughing with nothing behind it’s meaning, “That you did. Lord Varys’s little birds were wrong. About many things it seems.” You raised an eyebrow and the silence sat between until he realized this was not a back and forth. “Either he didn’t know about Stannis Baratheons army or he didn’t tell me. Also tried to spook me, saying your husband was some dead man. A walking monster stabbed in the heart. Looks perfectly fine to me.” 

The walking monsters of undead nature were that of cold and ice, not flesh and blood. But the knife in the heart was all the same. “He isn’t here, Lord Varys. Why?” 

Connington barley moved, “I don’t know. Left some days before tonight, had business to attend to elsewhere and said no more on it. He isn’t a man who gives away his secrets,” You agreed and it had him hesitate and turn to look up at you. “How would you know that?” 

Stepping closer your posture loosened a little bit, making him relax as well. “My father and I both served on the small council for some years. Spent much time around Lord Varys, so yes my lord, I know exactly the kind of secret’s he is capable of telling. Or not telling.” 

Oh the glare Connington gave you almost was enough to have you laugh. “So, how does your father being King work? He claims to be the Protector of the Realm, but his daughter and heir is married to an independent Northern King? Things sure seem to have changed since I’ve been gone.” 

“By change you mean there’s more freedom to rule outside of your beloved Targaryeans?” His eyes shot over to you, and while there was no malice on your face there was something unsettling in your eyes deep if he searched hard enough. You stepped closer again. “There was only a Seven Kingdoms because those people flew in with dragons and scorched the earth and it’s people. So you can imagine I am not quite convinced on Aegon’s claim when this country is only just beginning to find footing on it’s own once again.” 

Sighing deeply, Connington’s jaw clenched as he stared harshly at he wall but his voice spit out in a hiss, “So this is who rules now? The Targaryeans fought against you Baratheon’s and Starks and now you get to be the ones who are in charge?” 

Your voice was non confrontational however, you didn’t come for a fight but you knew you hit a sore spot. “For the Iron Throne? It’s a three way tie currently. The Lannisters sit on the throne, my father fights for it and apparently the remaining Targaryean still alive ,wishes to come back to seek it as well.” You came close to the bars, him still a number of feet away even if you were to press right up against the cold metal. “The Starks want nothing to do with the Iron Throne. We have bigger fights in the North then for an ugly iron chair.” 

That you didn’t realize, was just almost enough to get a smirk out of the man. He turned his head lazily to look up at you, “Thought you were a Snow not a Stark.” 

If he was trying to be clever, you saw through it. “You and I both know that Lord Varys has told you exactly who Jon is. Who his father is.” That made him clench his jaw harder, turn away with a rigid uncomfortable look in his eyes in an instant. Crouching down to see him more at his eye level you narrowed your eyes at him. “Let's not play word games. We both are aware of who exactly you were fighting against out there.” 

Connington sighed, an arm coming to rest against his knee and hold his face in his palm before flying it back down to whip his neck around to you. “Is that why you are here? To discuss Eddard Stark’s bastard son?” 

If he was on edge before, he paled now as you whispered into the silent air. “I’m here to discuss his aunt. Lyanna Stark. I’m sure your familiar with the name.” He said not a word, and you felt it seep heavy into the very air you both breathed. “I am going to be perfectly honest with you, my lord. Neither me nor Jon care about Aegon’s fight for the Iron Throne. He asked one thing of you in peace and you and him all but declared war for something on this island you didn’t even know was there. I don’t care if Aegon is fighting for the Iron Throne, what I want to know is how he’s even here in the first place.” Leaning forward you lowered your voice to something a little more annoyed with him. “Do we both know what I’m referring to or do we need to refresh our memories about the end of the rebellion? And how every single person in the Seven Kingdoms assumed Aegon died as a baby when Gregor Clegane  smashed his face into a wall so hard it was unrecognizable.” 

That did not sit nicely on his face. At all. He swallowed had with as much horror swimming in his eyes as you always felt imagining such a monstrous act. You let him sit in the quiet for a good few minutes, and you sat patiently waiting. “He was already two when they brought him to me.” Your eyes narrowed but otherwise remained entirely impassive. “Lord Varys and this associate of his, they approached me with this whole thing. I- I didn’t even know Aegon had survived...I had no idea...but then there he was..the only thing left of him right in front of me and them pleading me to help.” 

“What did they want you to do?” 

“Raise him. Take care of him, help make him ready. Train him to take the Iron Throne when he’s ready and hide with him until then. As father and son. Out of everyone in the world I had thought, me, Rhaegar trusted me with his son.” Your eyes grew dark and sharp but said nothing. There was a distant affection and lightness in his voice that was so far away you knew it tinged in a present pain. “I had lost him, but I had his son. Rhaegar’s own blood trusted in my hands to raise..I don’t know why he was smuggled out..or why she wasn’t..”

Rhaenys he meant. Why what sounded like nothing more than an innocent, sweet girl was left behind to be slaughtered.

He swallowed heavily, and his voice shattered to a waver. Not once did he look at you. “I spent his whole life waiting for him to become Rhaegar. The day I would wake up and see him, in his face, his eyes, anything. But..I’m still looking. I spent Ageon’s whole life waiting to see when he would turn into his father that sometimes...I feel like I missed his life..the life he had when he was just..my son. I failed his father, and now I’m failing the son too.”

Whatever was choking him on the inside, wrapped its tendrils around your throat and squeezed until something rough was forced out. “You didn’t fail. Rhaegar was the one who failed.” Connington’s eyes met yours, and it was a sorrow you rarely saw on people. “I don’t know Aegon, I didn’t know Rhaegar, but I knew the damage he left behind. I spent half my life growing up with a family that his actions led to their deaths before the war was over, and that pain has never gone away. I saw that pain live and fester in Robert’s eyes until it was so strong it almost killed what good in him was left. Good men don’t leave pain like that behind.” 

Deep blue eyes and dark curls in your mind were clear as if he were right in front of you. Robb being gone was agony, but he left no pain behind. Only the agony of loss, and the desperate love of so many who knew the truth that he was the best of so many of you. Good men are like Robb, not Rhaegar. 

Connington was quiet for a long time, but never asked you to leave. A quiet solace as you both thought to men you loved and lost in your own ways, but one was tinged in more guilt then the other until it spilled over as his head fell back with a thud against the dungeon wall. “For a long time I saw him everywhere. In my head, my dreams, would pass someone with just the right shade of hair that I’d trick myself into thinking there he was. I wanted to see him in Aegon so badly, but I never could. I thought I never would again, and..it wasn’t until..I suppose now I realize that maybe I don’t actually want to see him.” 

“Until what?” 

He looked to you with a doubt, and then he huffed a laugh. Shrugging a shoulder in a genuine amusement as he sat there behind the metal bars. “For a good minute out there, fighting your husband felt like I was back in my prime. Sparring with Rhaegar in the training arenas, getting overwhelmed by his intensity too.” 

Tilting his head to you, “Damn near spooked me. Was like looking at Rhaegar how intense he was, but..he was also far better then him. I’ll give him that, your King is a skilled swordsman like I’ve ever seen. Had all of Rhaegar’s intensity and more, and I realize now that maybe I’m relieved I’ve never seen that in Aegon. I don’t know this Jon Snow, but for your sake, I hope there’s more to him then what I saw out there beacuse otherwise?” He whistled out and your face fell flat. 

Your voice however had an edge to it that cut him like steel. “And you think Rhaegar was a better man?” Rhaegar thought he was better then everyone else, and that it made him untouchable. But Jon is a better man then anyone you know anymore in your current life, but he would never think that of himself. He’s a good man because that’s who he is, not beacuse he’s trying to make everyone else think so too. Leaning forward there was a real vitriol there, “Jon’s never abandoned his wife and two young children to kidnap an innocent teenage girl at the least.” 

Connington’s face paled almost sickly. “Is that why you’re down here? Mock me about what he did?” 

You were honest but no less hostile even in whispers. “She was Jons aunt, his fathers own sister and everything he’s heard about what your beloved prince did to her only got worse the more he was told. But he won’t ask you about it. So I will.” You leaned in as much as you could. “Why kidnap her? She died because of him, her father and brother died trying to save her. Why take her, why keep her from her family. What did he do to her that killed her so far away from where he, himself died?” 

Connington’s voice was rough and you had no sympathy. “You’ve heard the story.” Asking why he did it, he said nothing. So you asked again to more nothing. Only the third did he raise his voice. “I don’t know. I don’t know why he did it. He never said what about the girl he wanted with, just that he needed her. But he had his Kingsguard keep her locked up and no one saw her until after she was already dead. He never said what he wanted with her, never told me why. And I was exiled by Aerys before I had a chance to find out.”

Leaning back, your nails dug into your palms at the guilt on his face. “Tell me one thing. The rumours of what he did to her, were those true? Or was that just the angry ramblings from Robert without any merit?” 

His silence was deafening and you felt ill. Lyanna deserved better then to have men thirty years after her death, mourn the man who kidnapped and raped her until she died alone in the Dornish sands. 

You backed off from him, and your tone lightened up a bit for his sake. Already struggling to look you in the eye. “Sometime soon, Jon will offer you and Aegon a peace. But I’d think long and hard, Lord Connington. Think if the man you really want Aegon to be is Rhaegar, beacuse there is none here who is on his side. But they might be on yours. You have time still. He doesn’t have to become his father, you can let him be ready at his own pace.” 

“No I can’t.” You head tilted in question. “I don’t have time. Aegon needs to be ready to take the Iron Throne now or I- he can decide who he wants to be when he’s crowned but I need to sit him on the Throne as soon as possible. I...I have to do this one thing for him. I can’t fail the father and the son both.” 

Your whisper was far away, “Why? Why rush into this after spending almost thirty years leading to it?” 

But he shook his head. Clearing his throat before pulling his knees both up to his chest to rest his arms over them. For a while he said no more, and it wasn’t until the tense quiet of you walking towards the heavy door did he speak up. “He looks like her.” 

Your head whipped around to look at him, Connington’s face more pale once again. “Jon Snow. You said he’s Lyanna Stark’s nephew? He looks like her. Suppose he looks like Eddard Stark too, but it was like looking at a gods forsaken ghost seeing him for the first time.” He laughed to himself. “Spent thirty years trying to see Rhaegar and avoid thinking about all the horrible shit he did, and in one night I feel like he, Lyanna and Robert have all come back to haunt me between the two of you.” 

In only a small voice, you knew he heard you even if he didn’t acknowledge it. “You’re the one who raised him. And you surrendered for his sake beacuse you love him, not beacuse he’s Rhaegar’s.  Don’t allow Rhaegar’s shadow to get in the way of that. Aegon’s not him, and he needs you for you. Not beacuse you are waiting for him to become someone else.” 

As you walked out of the dungeons, all you could see was deep blue eyes against grey eyes. 

For only a moment, you let yourself sit on the steps leading back to to the main floors of the castle as the night sky loomed over. Your hand traced the scar along you, and you realized maybe you weren’t the only one making that very mistake. You had been adamant to ensure your love with Robb was about him and not the guilt of Jon, and it led to a love between you both that was more then you could’ve ever imagined for the tearfully short time you were allowed to share it.

So you couldn’t do the same in return to Jon. You would always love Robb, always love the child you almost had together, but you couldn’t only see them when you looked at Jon anymore. You always said he deserved better then what the world gave him, and that included what you had been doing up until now. 

The path was less treacherous then you recalled. Recently having passed your eleventh name day, you had still been small when you did this last. Your room too, it felt smaller then you remembered, cramped and uninspired with little personality. Much of you had been taken to King’s Landing where none of it existed anymore, but hidden behind a cabinet under the rug was still your spot to have searched on Dragonstone.

The path along there felt long as a girl. Long and the loud tides were frightening as if the gods telling you to stay away but each time including the fifth now, you had to pass the fear by. There was something you had to do, one last act and this time you felt horrid it was done so late. 

Hopefully not only will The Mother see your beg of reason, but Robb would understand you hated not being able to do anything sooner. Whatever gods answered you now, you needed to send his son to Robb once and for all. Robb deserved that, he deserved more then that but this was all you could do. 

As you came upon the clearing however, you felt a weightless sink in your stomach that almost had you drop. What more had he let her do? Your steps were suddenly slow, a painful realization that not only could the old gods of Robb not hear you from here, but perhaps the Seven of your past could not either anymore. 

The statues had always sat tall and proud on the shores, close to the sept but a worship all on their own that felt closer to the earth. Four times you had come here like this, lighting a candle in the middle of each and finally to The Mother you would light all seven before beginning. 

But now, only shadows remained. Burned statues of the Seven that you could hardly recognize what even had stood as what before. Burn the false idols, that was what he had let her do. You prayed in a peace to the old gods now, but not even the sliver of your life following the Seven was allowed here now. Only her fire god, as she burned any and all for him. 

Now, as you stood with the torch in your hand and wind blowing your hair around with it, you only felt the pull North more intensely. Dragonstone was slowly taking away everything that was once a home with a family. Death and destruction was left. 

Your hands brushed along each statues remains, and tried to recall prayers long unspoken in your mind and hoped they would accept your only offer. You knew where The Mother stood, and for once you felt a sting behind your eyes as you approached. This time it was not brothers you lost, and not your own mother by blood that you prayed for. It was you who was the almost mother praying to let the gods forgive your unborn son and pass him to his father and find peace together. 

Carefully, you stuck the torch deep into the sand in front of her, and let your hands trail over the melted insides that were left. Wind blowing your hair and cloak far and wide as you begged for any hope that someone not shrouded in fire could hear you and protect him. He was your son, and you failed him and so you needed to pass him on. 

You had made your way to your old bedroom earlier, shutting the door behind you sealing you alone as you pulled out the deep blue box with ornate foxes etched into it. Four hand carved toys sat inside it, four toys for your four brothers to remember by. 

You had done what you did for them, written out the blessings septon would anoint a child with as they were named under the Light of the Seven. Only this time, the house sigil was that of a direwolf, and the name you called to them at the bottom had almost been enough to make you cry. The memory of horrified blue eyes looking at you with blood soaking his hands as your final memories together. 

Eddard Stark

Now the burned remains sat in a small pouch along with the dagger. Pulling it out you held both ends with a choke so high in your throat were you to let it out it would sob. But the tears fell the same. You had nothing of them, nothing of either of them. Only this. 

You had nothing of Robb but a scar and a dagger. His body was desecrated. He was given no funeral rites, he would not rest beside his father in the crypts of Winterfell with a faithful direwolf to guard him. 

Robbs bones were lost somewhere in the Riverlands. 

You could only give him this, and the tears fell as you cared not to hide them. You had a life to find now without him, with a man you truly loved but you would never find it in you to move past this kind of pain. You would always be scarred in heart with his loss, and the son you failed to give him. But you did have to accept it.

No shatters or thunder or noises to fear came about. The Mother had seen you cry and heard you in agony for the love of your life and the son you both lost, and she was allowing you to do one final thing for them. 

You like four times before, stepped out into the middle of the shores, and with no wince this time, carved the dagger deep into your palm. The blood of you, Robb and your son all dried on it and now you let it twist as much as you could needing some of all three to soak your hand as you and your sons had soaked Robbs. 

Letting it sit back in it’s sheath, you gently pulled out the pouch and poured it into your bleeding hand and letting the material fly elsewhere. Hand tightening around it you let your blood together soak as this was all you had of your son. Robb and you could only give him this to send him and you needed him to find his father, that was all they had of each other. 

Stepping into the watering tides, you knelt down into the ground, the water surrounding you a few inches all around. Your hand sat deep into the sand as your eyes closed, kneeling down on your calves, with both hands braced beside you. The winds and tides blew around you as you saw not the blood. 

Just the memory of a moment to find any joy. The memory of how scared you had been to tell him, only for Robb to haul you up into his lap and arms, the happiest you had ever seen him and the loving press of his lips against you like you gave him the world. 

Eventually, your hand opened and the remains and blood all washed into the sea. You stayed there for a good long while. Eyes open looking to the stars in the night refusing to remember the pain. Only the deep love you found with him and the dreams of a family you couldn’t give him. 

You hoped this far away, Robb Stark could hear you tell him you love him. Now and always. 

It was more time you had planned on being away, by the time you had made your way to the room that was to be yours for a time, Jon was already stripped down from his armour and everything. Both of you having taken the time to clean the blood and grime from you before finding the other at that point as Jon now sat perched against the ledge near the open window, slight breeze flowing through his loose curls as he was cleaning the remaining blood from Longclaw back to it’s shining state. 

Grey eyes soft as they looked up, you gently pushing the door closed behind you before letting your back rest against the heavy surface. A fire softly crackled in against the wall along the rooms clearing with a soft rug covering the cold stone of the floor. It was hard to tell if it was something unsure or worried in his eyes as they looked gentle but with a furrow in his brows at the fragility you stood against the door in, as if struggling more then normal to find the words. 

Calling your name, but when you didn’t respond he set Longclaw aside. Standing to make his way over to you and only on the second attempt did your eyes snap back to the present as your name sounding in your ears. He stood close, but not invading your privacy and yet that sorrow in your heart melted to something that left a bright love to bleed in your gaze. “Talk to me.” 

As Jon’s hand reached up to run his fingers through the hair at the side of your face, you grabbed it instead. Pulling it, and by proxy him, closer to you as you held it more over your heart as the other free hand of yours traced over his jaw, facial hair scratching at the skin. His other came to rest at your waist, both quiet as he waited for what was behind your eyes to make their presence spoken. 

When you found that, it wasn’t what he expected. “I used to think it was my fault my mother lost my brothers.” His eyes narrowed at you but you had not the strained hurt in your voice, but something more gentle and easy. “She stopped speaking to me after the first, and then the night after she lost her second my father told me I was being sent North. I thought it was a punishment.” Your hand begun to trace back and run through his curls as he watched you closely. Your own eyes not meeting his as they trailed innocently over what you could see of him from such an angle. “Used to think boys were meant to come first, and by me being the firstborn I had screwed it all up, and my mother kept losing them beacuse of me.” 

The hand holding his over your heart slowly slid downwards, his eyes following intently until he led your hands and reached where the scar sat under your clothes. Letting his palm almost slide across the whole thing and his eyes never looked away from it as if he wanted to see it through the material. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Nodding, you moved both of your hands to rest along his chest close to his collarbones. “I thought I was cursed. Eventually, I stopped thinking about it. It had been so long I forgot what it ever was like to be afraid I was the reason she couldn’t have them.” Your voice lowered however, and you felt him tense drastically in your touch. “At least, I forgot until I lost my own. And then I felt like a failure. I didn’t even have one before he too was gone.” 

Jon tried to move, wanting to pull you closer but your hands on his chest pushed back a little to keep him at bay. His voice low and rough trying to contain something in him. “Robb would never blame you for that. Never.” 

You echoed those words, not realizing as he had said them about himself that you understood exactly what that felt like. “I thought I failed Robb, and I was terrified he would hate me for failing his son too.” Jon never moved his hand from your scar, his shoulders holding a visible weight on top of them as he stood close to you. “But I realized something tonight. That if I keep holding onto that thought, all I am doing is pushing you away with it. I’m doing exactly what you had told me not to do when I married Robb. I’m letting my pain of losing them get in the way of what I should be having with you.” 

His other hand not on your scar moved to run over the back of your hair as his grey eyes were bright and conflicted as he looked into your willing ones. “I’m not asking you to choose me over Robb, I’d never ask you that. I know you two loved each other and I’ve never wanted to get in the way of that-”

It didn’t matter how quiet your voice was, it to Jon sounded as if it were a yell from above. “He said I was fine.” His eyes shot up to yours sharply. “Wolkan. He said I was fine. That..he doesn’t think I should have any reason to suspect I can’t..or that we wouldn’t be able to..”

His touch was still and his eyes were wide in almost shock. Lips parted slightly as he looked you over gently before meeting your eyes again. “He said that you can..” His hand on your scar increased the pressure and he almost could lose it at how you seemed so gentle looking up at him.

You leaned back against the door more, a relax in your posture. “I thought that if I failed to give the last King in the North an heir, I didn’t deserve to fail with the second. Thought you should’ve just moved on, made me leave and find yourself a better wife that could give you all that and more. That letting you be with me was a mistake, and you’d end up hating me for wasting your time.” 

Something deep in Jon’s eyes hurt, something painful cut at him hearing such a statement that there was a redness tinting behind the grey that threatened to pool out were he to let it. In an instant he moved to cup your cheeks, resting his forehead against yours as he crowded you against the door, your hands coming to his waist. “I don’t care about if you can give me a heir, I care about you. I care about how much it would hurt you not to be able to have children, and if I was pushing you for something that was impossible..but..” 

The ease in how lovingly you looked into his eyes made him choke up. And the tenderness in your voice made that all the worse. “I’m not trying to influence you one way or the other, I just..thought you ought know the option is there..should you decide you want that..” 

You suspected there was a lot he wanted to say but little ability to speak them into the world. His voice still a whisper as he looked at you, but a playful small smile on his lips. “I did always think your name would sound better with Snow than Stark.” You both just laughed, for a moment before he tried inhaling shakily before speaking again. “We don’t have to plan anything right now, but,” One hand started to trace down your arm, as his eyes followed, “We could always practice.”

His eyes flickered up to you, and a weight held your voice and breathe down. Maybe keeping the tears at bay too, but you swallowed heavily. Hands on his waist tightening as you slowly nodded. Jon leaned in, hovering close to your lips before glancing up to your eyes, you nodded once more before nervously shutting them as he closed the gap himself. 

Jon tried to be gentle, he truly did. 

His kiss was soft at first, a gentle brushing of his lips to coax more from yours. Hands on the other were both light and firm enough just to keep the other in front of them, but it was the shaking in yours as they rose up the length of his chest that made him weak. His touch back up to cupping both of your cheeks as he gently let you find a slow, sweetness in the harmony, your hands continuing their journey up to dance along his neck and wrap around the back of it, almost too gently for him to handle. 

Your touch when that soft and innocent, made his blood race. 

He tried pulling away a few times, wanting to at least take the heavy layers off of you, but each time he was pulled right back to your lips on his own desire, kissing a little harder each instance and getting worse at pulling back every return. The hands on your cheeks tightened ever so slightly when Jon gently nibbled at your bottom lip and you tried to gasp. He would return to a soft kiss, bite your lip harder and then kiss it soothingly before biting and repeating. 

Each bite you got closer to a whine at the pleasure from the stinging he gave you, and your nails unintentionally dug into the skin of his neck as you felt yourself getting lightheaded. One of his slipped behind your own neck, keeping a firm hold cupping the back of it as if to force you not to move as the other hand left your cheek as well. Blindly working away at the laces and straps keeping your light armour still attached to your upper body as if he needed no sight to know how to take it all off of you. 

As soon as it was loose enough to pull off you, he let it toss down anywhere he could throw it, biting your lip harsh as he jumped to your bottom half. His tongue now soothing over the bite mark before slipping into your mouth. His invading kiss and calloused hand running along the skin by your hips undoing your pants almost impatiently had you arching a bit into the touch and a gentle whine he caught in your mouth with his greed. 

Instead of shoving them down though, his rough hand slipped in between the fabric and your skin, and suddenly it was just as it was in the castle halls earlier that night. His fingertips dancing down to where you burned for him, and his own knee suddenly shoved your legs apart to once more rut in between you. The hand slid just inside only coming back up to grab what he could of your pants and roughly yanked you down onto his knee as much as he could manage, you much more freely moaning into his kiss. 

The entire time, Jon refused to let your lips part from him. Refused to loosen his grip on the back of your neck and you felt more and more like it was a wolf really in front of you. A rough hold on the scruff of another wolves neck to keep them subjugated and you let him without a single thought on the matter. There were no thoughts of anything in you that wasn’t letting him do what he wanted. 

Jon’s own head screamed at him over it. This was exactly the kind of thing that led to the way he took you that night in Castle Black. In your early days together, slowly exploring one another at the same pace it was never this bad. He never felt this barley in control. Yet as soon as his eyes opened once more in the body belonging to him, as soon as his mind settled and he understood the truth of what he had experienced, it started and never stopped. 

Something dark and clawing in his chest begged him to keep you all for himself, and the way you melted to his touch so willingly and so naturally made that stronger. It partially scared him, having something so intense and addicted find it’s way about you. Worried that he was too much now, he would frighten you with his need for you in his life but you weren’t. You were the one in fact, scared of over staying your welcome. 

That darkness was stronger then it had been in his entire previous life, and it was that same darkness that had him take you that night. Hoisted against the cold wall in his arms, Jon had slid his cock deep inside you for the first time and he knew there was no going back. Shoving you onto the ground and fucking you deep as soon as he already came once. Waking up with you bare in his arms and you had only even just tumbled out of sleep as Jon yanked you up onto his lap. 

Barley opened your eyes before he roughly bounced you on his cock and him sitting up to mark your breasts up with this teeth because you gasped so beautifully in the air whenever he did. He filled you twice that morning without ever stopping how hard he fucked you onto his cock and he didn’t understand why he wanted more and more. Couldn’t understand why he suddenly was so desperate to fill you in a way that once terrified him when he was nothing more then just a bastard boy in love with a royal highborn girl. 

But now? Jon was King in the North, the King his brother, his brothers people and his home all wanted and not a thing would stand in his way from keeping you with him. He was still honest about not wanting to pressure you into thinking you had to marry him, but he wanted it. Wanted you in a beautiful ivory dress, even more elaborate then the last. Pray with you in front of the Weirwood, drape his own fur over you in that beautiful ivory dress and kiss you before finding one last string of tradition in him, and hoisting you in his arms to the celebration to follow. 

You could be each others and there would be nothing anyone could do to change that. Jon would never force it, or even press for it, but nothing would be in his way. And now? He thought too, nothing was standing in his way of getting you pregnant and suddenly his blood almost boiled him alive. 

Hands finally having enough, you started to push up the soft material of Jon’s shirt until he got the message, pulling from you to let you take it off him, and letting it drop much more gently then he was treating your things. Looking down at you with wide eyes and lips parted as he breathed heavily, he stopped. Running his hand back down your cheek before just as gently taking everything from your top half off of you. 

A shiver running over your chest as you were left with nothing covering you but Jon’s dark, greeding gaze. But he didn’t overwhelm, not now. Keeping a hand steady on your hip as you kept perched right over his knee, but his other explored your skin. Running flat along your jaw and neck thumb firm as it trailed down the middle of your neck to your collarbones before circling around to grasp at your breast. 

His eyes were narrowed and his breathing heavy through his nose as he stared in silence, hand suddenly rough as he groped the plush skin he found. Thumb running over your nipple already perfect for him to grasp and twist. Grey eyes so dark they were near black as they flickered between his touch and your arching back and high pitched gasp you tried to keep low. 

It only made Jon tug and twist at the small bud more roughly, and your gasp turned to a small cry before he finally moved to the other hand from your hip. Both hands rough and calloused and leaving bruises of his fingertips as sparks shot through your chest, pumping from your heart down between the legs trapped on either side of one of his. Jon leaning forward, pressing only gentle kisses down your neck. Nothing like his selfishly rough touch, only feather light presses of his lips making his way up to your ear before leaving another gentle one just below.

His lips only giving a peck before his hands came to slid everything left on you, off. Keeping everything in a tender touch until he rose back up to your level, you now bare before him. 

Three fingers danced between your legs and grazed the growing wetness before trailing up to your clit with a touch that never really got committed. “Will you lay out for me? Let me taste you?” You bit your lip, still the act somehow making you nervous. It wasn’t something you even knew about until he was already doing it, and still it made you self conscious, but the need was deep in his eyes. “You’re safe with me, remember?” 

That made you nod, and you let him gently move you to the soft carpet close to the fire. Still something nerve wracking in you, realizing you had no idea how to make yourself look alluring like this. Gently kneeling down on your calves with your hands in weak fists sat in your lap as if anything else would look like you were trying too hard. Jon however, just exhaled deeply as he looked back at you. 

Grabbing your hands with both of his larger ones before leaning close, placing them along his shoulders around the back of his neck until you continued the path yourself, fingertips running what you could reach of his curls. Moving next to guide you to lay out for him, your knees somewhat bent with feet flat on the soft carpet as Jon settled partially above you. 

Instead of moving you more, Jon leaned down and kissed you again. A soft brush of lips that this time never picked up, one of his hands running along your hair splayed out under you as he pulled away, after giving one final small kiss. Nothing else was spoken in the air as he moved down your neck, kissing a path just as soft and just as gentle the whole way. 

Your hands slipping to his shoulders the lower he kissed, your chest already with a slight heave as your breathing picked up, but he never let up. Never let his lips press anywhere but gently along your skin. A muttering against you when he had to reach up, and direct a hand into his hair, mumbling into his path, “Keep that there.” You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. 

The lower he got the more your nerves and heart raced, unsure as to why it made you so nervous but it also was something you simply never knew existed before him. Much of what you had always discovered with Jon made you nervous. He paused as he got to your scar, and just as you had his, kissed a path all the way down it and further. 

Shifting to lay between your legs, Jon confidently draped your thighs over his shoulders, once more grasping your hips as he kissed along your upper thighs. Moving your hips slightly up closer to him, you felt the gentle brush of his tongue along your clit, enough to have you gasp. Would have jumped too were his hold not keeping you so strongly tethered right where he wanted. 

Small, gentle licks along your clit that had your core awaken suddenly. Just a tender touch, working you up at the sensitive spot with only his tongue until he felt your thighs around him begin to shake, only then did Jon finally run his tongue flat over it much more soaking. Sucking your clit before just barely grazing his teeth over it as you tried again to jump at the spark of pleasure but he kept you in place. 

Jon refused to let his mouth trail his mouth anywhere else, licking and sucking your clit with hands holding your hips tight until you felt that build up inside of you. Almost bracing yourself, knowing he was going to take it away again, you tried holding it off. Tried keeping it at bay as your free hand curled into a fist and biting your lip, but the pressure inside refused to stop. 

But just as you felt the weakness, just as you felt inside tightening, Jon instead moved to grab at your upper thighs, and pushed them far. The instant you were sure he was going to pull away though, Jon moved to lick right down your folds with a deep hunger. A loud cry left your mouth as the second that feeling snapped, Jon used that hold to yank you into his mouth more. Tongue tasting every bit of wetness you were gracing him with before trailing back to your clit and down again. 

Legs shaking and your breathing airy as your orgasm ripped through you but he didn’t pull back, only held you close. His tongue making his way deep inside of you, and your cries were loud and free by then. Unable to stop, as your hand curled into his hair with a beg of his name which meant no other words. 

Jon grunted into your cunt, licking and tasting you with greed at the feeling and sounds you made above him. Hands pushing your thighs wide and off his shoulders, and instead as he run his tongue against something sharp and sensitive inside of you, his hands slid down your thighs to pull you again closer. Not realizing you had arched away from him the more your head fogged with pleasure rolling around your veins. Hands almost grasping now tightly at your ass, fingertips leaving deep bruises already as his mouth drank from you with his own need. 

His own sounds vibrating through you and up leaving as cries from your mouth. Soaking his tongue and yet Jon didn’t back away for a second, his own need refusing to let go of you as suddenly that wave of pleasure shocked. Back arching for him, as your hand tightened in his hair. The sensation causing Jon to growl into you and his hands on your ass holding tighter as your orgasm rippled through you, babbling need saying words you heard not in the snapping pleasure burning your insides. 

Perhaps it was so close to your second that it made it simple, but Jon so quickly drew a third. Not letting himself simmer down to a gentle coaxing as he started, instead keeping the desperation in how deep he tasted inside of you and how much he drank everything you soaked him with. You almost rolled right into a third as you begged this time, “Please- I can’t, don’t..” Nothing was close to a sentence and Jon didn't stop until he could will himself to leave by force. 

Your eyes stung as it almost was too much between you did Jon kiss a path to your clit, and instead of marking his way back up, he all but leaped to your eye level. Pulling you in by the back of your hair as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. Making you taste what he was addicted too as his covered cock rutted into your soaking bare cunt. His hands held your waist as he rolled more into you with intention, breathing growing heavy and the second he pulled away from your lips a snarl almost formed on his face before he bit your lips into another rough, deep kiss. 

Your hands attempted to reach down, but a soon as you got to his pants, Jon leaned up again. Saliva still pulled from both your panting, swollen mouths and now yours was as shined with wetness as he was giving you the mess you let him drink from. Eyes black as he watched you, taking over for your hands and pulling the last of his own clothes off. Trailing down to look at you, yours shyly looked down to him. 

Hard and thick, slightly red with need and his own seed already leaking as he looked at you. Pulling your legs wide as he moved back to you. His cock brushing against your soaked folds had him shudder and you whine, hands at his shoulders. Eyes still on you, his voice was strained, accent strong as he rasped down at you, “No matter what happens,” One hand drifting to your scar as your eyes stung, “We’re family now, we’re together.”

You swallowed, nodding yes before Jon kissed you gently. But the kiss was a distraction. 

The pressure as his cock slid inside of you, your nails dug deep into his shoulders and Jon kissed you harsher. One slow, gentle glide inside of you and he slid as deep as your cunt could let him go. Stretched thick around him you burned and cried, tears coming from your closed eyes. Hands running through his hair, Jon kept your lips on his too. 

He was slow about it, savouring every inch of you around him so warm and tight, your own walls being pressed against as you wanted to cry at the pleasure it stabbed you with each inch. His cock slid in and out smoothly, you utterly soaking around him as Jon would pull out almost just to the tip before just as slowly, sliding right back. Making you feel every moment of his cock filling every inch of you, his tongue brushing into your mouth as he did so, and the gentleness matched. 

Your lungs were no more as he fucked you slow. Every gasp you tried to have, Jon would steal it with his kiss and refuse you any air that he didn’t give you. He wanted everything you were to be at his mercy, trust him to keep you right where you were and you did. Legs falling wide around his hips, the coil inside of you twisted and cracked as you held his kiss even closer with your hands raked deep in his curls. 

His hands on your hips kept you in place, making every thrust of his cock had you shake, but the pace so you were to feel every second as you clenched so tightly around him. By the time he drew another orgasm out of you, you had tears genuinely at how overwhelmed you felt with his slow pace inside of you. 

But then he pulled from your lips, looking down to watch his length disappear into your soaking cunt, Jon didn’t notice his hands on your hips grew tight the longer he watched his cock slide in and out of you. Teeth gritting, he started only to realize how much you were scratching at his insides when you cried his name out. “Jon- fuck, please, gods, please, you feel so good,” 

Then, Jon picked up. Not the speed, still mostly just as slow but his hips suddenly skipping past a gentle increase and moving right to a hard, rough thrust inside of you. Looking up to your closed eyes as your back arched, hands now splayed in the carpet around your sweating hair. Jon fucked you rougher, stuck hovering over watching you. Each slam of his hips making the sounds between you slap, a rough smacking of skin that had him growling and holding your hips in place. As if he needed to control just how rough he fucked you at all times. 

He had once dreamed of being kind and gentle with you in such a manner, but now he could see your overwhelmed pleasure, watching how well your soaking cunt let him pound deep inside like he was destined to fit with you, and the obscene sounds of his skin against yours and how wet you were every thrust. Part of him still wanted to be gentle, but something else that had only awakened when he came back, made him feel like he was a wolf destined to take his mate.

“I hate every second I’m not with you.” His accent so strong you could barley hear its low rasp through the rough slap of each time he pounded inside you. A hand coming to press right beside your head as he looked down at you, almost speaking in tandem with every pound of his cock. “Hate every second I’m not inside you, not filling you fuck after fuck. That’s all I can think about, should lock you in our bedroom in Winterfell, keep you tied to my bed and never leave. Do nothing the rest of our lives but fill you deep with my seed,” 

His head dropped as he hissed, trying to control himself but the roughness was going to leave you good and sore and it made you beg for more in yielding. “I- anything, fuck Jon I’ll do whatever you want, you’re so good..” Pulling you up by the back of your head to meet his lips in a rough kiss, Jon thrusted only a few more rough times into your cunt before he shook above you with a groan into your lips. 

Cum unusually warm as he spilled inside of you, and thick as he spread your legs as wide as they could go on the ground beside you as he kept going. It was a lot of thick, very warm cum and he bit your lips with every heaving breathe or snarl inside him at the feeling of you so deeply taking him, and keeping all he spilled inside of you. 

He wasn’t done, almost as if it made him harder. Grinding deep inside you did you cum before he was even done though, coating his cock in your wetness and forced to take his cum deep as you cried his name. But Jon, only got rougher. Fucking into you with pounding slaps that would have echoed through the castle halls by that point, any passing close by would be able to hear the slap of skin from the ground, or even the sea. 

Burying your face in his neck as your hands wrapped around and into his curls, Jon almost pulled you closer, pressing your bodies as close as he could as he pounded into you. You didn’t know if keeping each one slow was meant as torture or not. Because you couldn’t tell if you needed him to go faster, or you might cry and beg for him to slow down if he changed his pace at all. Your voice was breathless and muffled in his neck, “I love you, fuck, Jon I love you so much,” 

As possessed as Jon felt, the almost tearful genuity in your voice made him bury his face in your hair, hands tight holding you to him. 

“You, gods- fuck, you deserve better, better then this, better then me.” Jon tried to protest, begging you not to say that but you clenched tightly around him and made him groan just as loudly into you as he fucked you. “Tell me what to do, please, fuck tell me what to do for you. I want to give you anything-everything, tell me what to give you to let me stay.” 

If he wanted to cry before, Jon certainly did now. His cock screaming to cum deep in you again, and the sound of his hips slapping against yours were music if he’d ever heard it but you had begged him. Hand running along the back of your hair, Jon mumbled into your ear, voice wavered and shuddering with his own breathless desire. “Marry me, let me take you home and marry me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” 

He knew he felt tears hiding in his neck, but he also felt you orgasm around his cock and he yanked your watering eyes to kiss you. Keeping you pressed to his lips, only pulling back to brush against them as you were jostled hard under him, asking as if he hadn't already. “Can I fill you? Will you let me spill inside you?” Nodding yes, he kissed you with a biting sloppiness to it before pulling back as his muscles strained the closer he got and the more your orgasm shocked around him like a sparking fire. He was barley comprehensible, so close to his own orgasm he slurred against your lips. “Fuck, fill you with my seed, fill you with a son. Give you my son..” 

His hips left their rough, slower pace, as Jon lost all control. Fucking fast into you, the slapping pounds turned to obscene speed and smacking as he roughly kissed you, your hands tight in his hair. Jon sped towards filling you once more, and you managed to pull away enough, voice high pitched and crying in loving need, “Anything, Jon, anything you want, I promise.” 

That time, your final, sudden and flooding orgasm snapped in your veins with an almost painful wave of pleasure, as Jon shook against you, and thrusted deep inside you, and you felt his thick cum spill inside of you. Cum almost as warm as the fire burning hot next to you, sweat covering both of you. 

Jon cupped the sides of your face, and you did his. Both knew there was something not normal about how blindly desperate you both felt for the other when he was inside you, but neither were sure anymore if either of you wanted it any other way. 

You hadn’t been in this room in a very long time, many years. The painted table was a long wooden table that was constructed to map out all the known lands of Westeros from Dorne to the Wall, and raised and lowered depending on the structure of the lands, all painted in accordance to how such an area around it looked. 

Just by walking in you could tell what the pieces came from, your father’s own collection as opposed to whatever Aegon and Connington brought. Planned out acts still set partially to what you now knew were your fathers own organizing. 

While it had been years since you had stepped foot in the room, it wasn’t unusual when you were on Dragonstone to appear in here. In only a few hours the sun would begin to rise from across the Narrow Sea, and yet you found your mind too worked up to sleep any longer. 

You had woken up with a panic, a gasp for air as you came close to jostling Jon from his peaceful sleep, from the force it awoke you with. The dreams had gotten out of control. Dreams of fire, and wolves and roars that you couldn’t identify had finally bled into something that you didn’t understand but found to be compelled to. 

This time, the green fire exploding from the torches in the Winterfell crypts were not followed by a burning flame roaring across the ceiling. Instead this time the direwolf which jumped from the statue of Ned Stark had ran behind you, and when you turned around you were standing deep within the sandy lands of Dorne. Sun blazing above and a tower standing tall in the distance with the red mountains looming in the background of it. 

A direwolf stood with many at his back. A small lizard short to the ground, what looked like ten small wolves at their backs, a black horse with a bright red main and scattered across the lands like rubble were two crossed long axe’s with dark black handles, a silver gauntlet curled to a fist, and three buckets scattered and all but the wolf and lizard were coated in blood. 

Standing across from them was a cluster of nine black bats all flying to hide the sight of a white tower crowned with grey smoke and burning flames as a lilac falling star crossed it, the tail almost in the shape of a white sword but just as the star fell across the morning so did everything but the Dornish tower behind it all, and a bloody direwolf and lizard. 

The tower however, begun to bleed as well. The wolf on the bed in the crypt had melted into the sheets and painted it with the red and blues of it’s fur and the tower begun to bleed such colours as well and suddenly as you looked around to any, the animals were gone. 

The closer you stepped to the tower, the more you heard a high pitch of crying. Something that was not an animal but also sounded too young to even be an adult, it sounded that of a baby until the crying morphed into the tiny growls of a young sounding wolf. Little growls and howls came from the tower as it continued to bleed. 

You took only a step forward more, and the tower had enough of your watchful eyes. From the ground it was ripped from the sands, and in it’s place roared that which followed fire. From the place which the tower had stood, came out a great dragon in it’s place flying high in the air swirling the lands with it’s fire. It’s scales burned your eyes with a pure white colour as it’s own eyes and flames from it’s mouth shined that like blood. But the roar it gave out was not one you imagined of a dragon. 

The white scaled dragon had flown to the top of the red mountains, perched high and what was supposed to be a roar, was a mighty growl of a wolf. A powerful growl that sounded like one’s you’ve heard on many direwolves now before. 

And just in the seconds before you had been startled awake, a gentle, dainty hand grasped at your shoulder covered in blood. When you turned, the figure was nothing more then a mist as if covered in vines of blue roses wrapping around your limbs. Just as the cold, blue roses came to wrap around your throat, the dragon behind roared like a wolf’s growl and a gentle, desperate voice of a young woman came to you from above. 

“Promise me, Ned.” 

You had startled awake, at that point and now found yourself here. In the room your sleepless nights on the island commonly found their way too. Walking to the side of it, your eyes narrowed as you spotted something tossed on it’s side carelessly. 

Reaching forward you grasped the wooden figurine and found it that of a dragon. Walking to the main seat you had many years watched your father sit at, you sat down gently. Leaning your forearms on the painted table, your hands held the wooden dragon with sharp eyes watching as you turned it in your hands. 

The dream was that of many you had before it, and your mind swirled without your permission to put it together of what you were being shown. Only, it wasn’t just the dream it connected too. It was the words of an intensity seen, it was the sight of a ghost. Your mind raced and flew words and images around in your head all staring at that dragon figure.  

When it connected, you didn’t know why. But it all screamed and cycled together into a blend coming into a painted image that was clear as day and suddenly your entire body felt as if it had fallen fifty feet in place. A shocking jolt in your mind and a twisting in your heart.

Your face morphed from that of a squinting thought, to a wide shock. Mouth slowly opening agape as your eyes widened in a sight only you were seeing in your clues. Many secrets scattered across the lands of Westeros, but your dreams had led you right to the heart of a secret none knew even existed. 

None perhaps, but one. One who went to the grave without telling a soul and you felt something faint inside you, realizing, now the other person who knew this secret, just might be you, and it shocked your heart into a stunned quiet until the sun rose in the outside behind you. Your hands had dropped the wooden figurine. 

The only dragon on the painted table, and you had dropped it right at the Prince’s Pass, as the wooden figurine fell, it cracked right down the middle. 

Splitting the dragon into two even halves, in the sands of Dorne.