#grace being a mother and also taking care of them

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 6

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

(I can't believe I squeezed six entries out of this dang episode!!!)

agatha sees billy waking up and takes her usual moment to wipe all genuine emotion from her face and put on her mask. it's getting increasingly clear that this wretch of a woman is always wearing a mask and playing the larger-than-life uncaring witch she wishes she could be

not that she cares about you or anything.

billy does that thing children do. he doesn't say thank you or ask why she's crying, he asks about himself, his current troubles and fears, looking for guidance. that's the wonderful thing about a parent, they give a child a safe environment to grow and make mistakes and explore. A parent is, or should be, selfless. That billy feels safe doing this with agatha tells you he instinctively trusts her much more than he realizes.

agatha never lies to billy

and the way she's always drawn to teaching and explaining and guiding despite herself. deep, deep down agatha is a nurturing person who only ever got to nurture for a short time

I just realize agatha cannot actually say the name billy, can she? because of the sigil. so this is her going, I know it's still you kiddo, behind all that. I see some people arguing that agatha might actually think he's Nicky at first and personally I don't believe that's the case, the dialogue is muddy only to mislead the viewers before the big Wiccan reveal.

Two reasons agatha knew this was billy all along: she's had three centuries to sit with nicky's loss now. nicky is gone for good, no matter all her tricks and her pleading and her endless pit of sorrow, that is the one irrevocable fact that she will never be able to change. that is the cornerstone, the whole core of who agatha is today. she has lost nicky, she has committed unspeakable horrors to cope with that loss. she is afraid to die because nicky is on the other side and she cannot face him.

The second reason is that agatha loves billy for being billy, not just as a nicky stand-in. she was uniquely equipped to understand and empathize with wanda, and that's even more true for billy because he's a little boy and agatha's whole heart is wired and predisposed to reach out to him. she saw the miracle that was his birth, she saw first hand what chaos magic can do. this is a child flung out in the world carrying an immense power and no instructions on how to use it. he's capable of terrible things that could easily turn him into a monster and a pariah, and agatha is, besides wanda, the only person in the world who truly understands what that means. do you remember what happened to agatha at around the age billy is now? everything in her is demanding to guide and help. selfishly, because all that power would be hers to control. selfishly because he reminds her of herself and she wants to undo what her mother did to her. and selfishly because helping billy would in a way redeem what she did to nicky.

and also, selflessly. because she wants to help him grow and be successful and be happy.

billy created the Road to find tommy, sure. but what he's been doing on the Road is finding community. or rather, getting close to witchfolk to find out who he is in relationship to them, exploring the identity he was born with that he cannot express with his adoptive parents. he started with a lot of silly ideas on what witches should and shouldn't be and created trials that are, let's face it, rather stereotyped and demeaning. next trial is agatha and he is puzzling her out now, willing her to become the ideal witch and mentor he's looking for. he's doing it with the grace of an elephant in a china store, but that's just what being a kid is.

aaand the wall is all the way up and she runs away. but we made some progress there, didn't we?

oh to be a vampire and getting to bite patti lupone's neck

rio looks so engrossed and fascinated listening to lilia! rio just loves people, you know? she loves life in all its multifaceted forms, and that's not at odds with her job description at all. she is The Green Witch, she has embraced nature, which is to say life, so completely that all of it is important and precious to her. my headcanon is that as the original green witch she started ferrying souls because she deeply understood and accepted death as natural and organic and sought to help it along. it's funny, lilia is terrified of her but if asked, rio would have such a long list of things that make lilia special.

and that such a being would fell in love with agatha of all people?? god that is amazing. that is how you write a beautifully doomed epic love story. billions and billions of humans throughout history, and agatha is who caught her eye. and not because agatha is a serial killer mind you, that's just foreplay. it's because she is the most intense, the most interesting human Death ever came across. while others saw a damaged girl, rio saw poetry in her extraordinary complexity

and then, through agatha and nicky, rio experienced grief from a new point of view. Death, no longer impartial.

a wiser future Lilia pays another brief visit

and she's gone. her puzzled little face!

from being awkward and fearing her oddities to laughing with her about it. another step toward a deeper understanding, and acceptance, and love.

look at agatha's body language when she approaches. uncertain, arms crossed. these people have seen her without her mask now, openly weeping about billy

and then she puts her hands in her pockets and postures, ready to underplay things. pppft, crying? moi? you guys must have dreamed it.

alice with her big compassionate heart will never be able to think of agatha as cruel and distant again

agatha picks up rio's flower

rio looks at her

pretends she wasn't looking when agatha looks back

you could cut the damn tension with a knife

jen trying to include agatha??? man they did really see her cying fr

look how interested lilia is! I wish shows could just be 15 hours of women hanging out and chatting, no plot, just vibes

agatha glances at rio as if saying, you know exactly which scar this is. and rio chuckles because she remembers the story. THE INTIMACY BETWEEN THESE TWO. I'm going feral again.

what is this, camaraderie? community? perhaps even, dare I say it, friendship???

agatha doesn't know what to do with herself!

behold the textbook definition of 'awkward turtle'

oh rio's DETERMINED

'no you don't' 'yes I do' STOP IT YOU STUPID GAYS

agatha all casual like honey I've seen every inch of that body

just... the way they fell into a rhythm. the doMESTICITY.

lol jen's and alice's gaydars pinging at the same time. like somETHING FRUITY IS AFOOT. AND WE WOULD KNOW.

and fuck fuck fuck fuck I cannot believe I've run out of space again and I need to do a part 7

LOOK WHAT THESE LESBIANS ARE DOING TO ME (it'll be up in like an hour guys don't worry)

go to episode 4 part 7

[thewisecheerio]

Messmer's actually terrible at his job. (affectionate)

Messmer is a fascinating villain, because he is strangely compassionate. I would go so far as to argue that this same compassion that is so at odds with his villainy is the very thing that drove him to become that villain in the first place. Hang with me; this is a long post.

Spoilers for Elden Ring DLC. Obviously.

Messmer tells us himself that his purpose is to purge all those stripped of the grace of gold. "Yet...my purpose standeth unchanged. Those stripped of grace of gold shall all meet death...in the embrace of Messmer's flame." We can piece together who gave him this genocidal purpose from his armor set's description, which tells us directly that he's working on his mother's behalf *and also* taking all the blame for it.

So he's playing war criminal on Marika's behalf. And I do mean playing. I'm not downplaying the fact that he is a war criminal; he has murdered on entire people. But here's the thing: he's *terrible* at playing the sole part of the spiteful, hateful overlord. He's *awful* at reveling in war and its victories.

Why? Empathy.

Messmer is strangely empathic for what could have otherwise been a cut-and-dry villain:

1. His relationship with Gaius, an Albinauric: We learn from Gaius's Remembrance that he was Messmer's bestie. We also know that Gaius was an Albinauric both from his armor as well as the location "Albinauric's Hut" in the direction he comes from at the beginning of his fight. Albinaurics are despised by the Golden Order, but Messmer didn't seem to care. In fact, he cared so little that he gave Gaius command of either a huge chunk or perhaps his entire army, second only to him. And what is given as the basis of this friendship? The fact that they were "both cursed from birth", i.e. a mutual understanding of what it is to be despised. They're trauma bonded because they have empathy for each other's predicament.

2. His relationship with the Jar people: Even though the Jar people were used as weapons of war against his own people, he doesn't seem to resent them. How do we know? There is a hospital where the Jars and their innards are being cared for in the Storehouse, a stone's throw away from where Messmer spends all his time. There are even a few baby Jars running around in it. Strange thing to do to what is essentially an enemy of your people, unless you consider them to also be victims of the same conflict.

3. His relationship with his soldiers: Messmer shares his own flame with his army. Yeah, that absolutely could be interpreted as a utilitarian move for the sake of war. Power up the troops, boost your chance at victory. But it's a strange choice when he could have just armed them in the traditional way of handing them sharp, pointy objects and pointing in the desired direction of stabbing. Instead, arming your soldiers with your own power could also be interpreted as something you do when you care about their survival and are potentially working directly with them to ensure it.

4. The mourning of people who betray him: Speaking of his soldiers, Messmer gets betrayed by at least a few of them. We learn this from the ashes of Andreas and Huw. Huw's ashes further tell us that Messmer *mourned their loss* as brothers-in-arms. Weird thing to do to someone who has betrayed you, unless you care very deeply about them to begin with.

5. The implications of the Storehouse: Even though he is actively genociding Hornsent on Marika's orders, he somehow has preserved an entire library of their history. At first, I thought this was maybe just British Museum vibes: steal all the artifacts and refuse to give them back. (And that could still be a correct interpretation.) But in context of the rest of these points, if you're truly hellbent on erasing a culture, why would you bother to preserve any of it? Would you not burn the libraries along with the people? It's a fairly common thing to do in our world's wars--destroy the art and history to ensure full erasure. And yet, it seems he can't even bring himself to avoid some small amount of sympathy for the people he was explicitly tasked with killing. If you really *think* about the basis for his sympathy for Marika, this does make a lot of sense. Messmer is following Marika's orders because he knows about what the Hornsent did to the Shaman. Wouldn't it then also be the case that once Marika's reign became nothing but genocide, i.e. an exact reversal of what was done to her people, he would have the same kind of sympathy for them? Perhaps this is a form of harm reduction in the only way he could square with what he thinks is his purpose.

6. His own self-hatred: Messmer despises his own flames, which we learn from the Messmer's Orb description. If you were happy to be Doing a Genocide, would you not celebrate your weapons of war? Wouldn't you take pride in them as tools of power? Unless, of course, you're not actually as happy as we think and maybe having regrets and come to be filled with severe self-hatred. Woops.

So then, if Messmer is this guy running around with a lot of Big Feelings (and probably a deep need for a Prozac prescription), why does he even agree to this genocide in the first place? Isn't that an *odd* choice for someone who seems to care pretty deeply about people, even people despised by his family's governing order? Why does he carry out these orders even to the point of developing a deep self-hatred?

This is where Messmer's sympathy, one of his best aspects, also becomes his fatal flaw.

I mentioned above in 5 that Messmer has access to information about both sides of this conflict. As much as he might have sympathy for everyone around him--including weapons used against the Shaman like the Jars--that means he *also* has sympathy for the Shaman. So if you have sympathy for the other side and sympathy for your side, and you are raised by your own side, then what is the natural outcome? Your side wins. If you must choose a side, then you fight on behalf of Child Soldier Fostering Mother Marika. She raised you, after all. It's inevitable.

In the end, that same sympathy he seems to extend to others also is what causes him to do war crimes. Out of an abundance of sympathy for what happened to the Shamans, he agrees to take up arms.

At the end of the day, he's still a villain that needs to be stopped so that he'll stop oppressing an entire people on behalf of his mother's misguided attempts at revenge. But making his reasoning to agree to become that villain in the first place *empathy* of all things? Fascinating.

[rainintheevening]

They're his children of course. Richard still recognizes them; it's only been two years.

And yet...

Peter is a man. Still six months shy of his draft papers, but he stands, walks, sounds like a man. He always has a pocket knife, he tips his hat to all the females, he sings in a baritone that will only get deeper and richer. The tea he makes is decent, but sometimes he drinks coffee now. He talks about horses and crops and reads Augustine. He can drive a car. He gives orders, and expects them to be followed.

They all look to him, to Peter. Helen calls him to open a jar, Susan questions how her hair looks, Lucy runs to him in tears. As for Edmund, he and Peter are curiously joined, they turn to each other with their laughter, their thoughts, their books and newspapers and letters. As often as his family swirls around him, Richard sees them swirl around Peter, a habit, he knows, born of necessity, but that doesn't prevent it from being strange. Even painful.

Peter moves to take the head of table, catches himself. They both start to say grace, stop, glance at each other. Peter takes the newspaper over breakfast, and is a page in before he remembers. And every time he apologises. Each time he smiles at his father, and it is warm, glad, even benevolent.

One of the first nights, shortly after Christmas, Peter finds him sitting in his old armchair, staring into the fire, after everyone else has gone up to bed. "Dad?" comes the question, and he looks up blinking at the tall man, lamplight crowning him in gold, blue eyes deep and dark with knowledge and certainty.

"I'm not who I was," Richard says, a confession, the kind a father shouldn't burden his son with he thinks immediately, but then Peter is down on one knee, reaching for the mangled hand, tender with the three fingers as he clasps strong calloused palms around them.

"Neither am I, Dad. None of us are." Peter's gaze is earnest, bright. "But you are still my father. And I will always be your son. I am forever grateful for that."

It is as if a great burden rolls off of his shoulders, and he finds no shame in leaning on Peter's hand to rise.

When the holidays end, and the four go back to school, Peter says I love you to each of them at the station.

If Peter is a man now, Susan is a lady.

She sits straight, she walks gracefully, she can cook anything as well or better than her mother. She reads the newspapers with Peter, she scolds Lucy for coming home with twigs in her hair and a tear in her stocking and wet shoes.

She talks less than her father remembers, and there is a woman's sadness in her gazing out the window or into the fire. She is also very admiring of the boys in uniforms, and Richard requests her arm on the way out of church with a father's righteous sense of protection.

But she is also gentler than he recalls, she does not shy away from his injured hand, she takes care of him without making him feel as if he needs care. She sits on a cushion by his feet as she braids her hair in the evenings, leans on his knee as she reads aloud, and Richard thinks, Not my little princess, but a queen now.

At the train station, she kisses him goodbye, and he hugs her close, and there are tears in her eyes as she says I love you.

Edmund is the closest to unrecognizable, the once-obvious four year span between he and Peter seemingly halved. He greets his father wordlessly, all shining eyes and bright smile, and his face is so close to Richard's own it makes his heart break a little.

Ed is no more little boy, he is tall, slim, oddly graceful, but his handclasp is strong. He holds himself the same way Peter does, with squared shoulders and lifted head, but he wears that nobility in a quieter fashion. He's quick to see, quick to hear, quick with a wisecrack that makes Peter laugh out loud. He plays the violin now. He returns the family Bible to the living room with an apology for having kept it since the summer holidays. He reads Agatha Christie as a personal challenge, whispers to Susan in French, and his chess games with Peter are fierce battles of strategy that Richard cannot keep pace with.

In discussions of the war and its movements, he is sober and considerate, he meets each of Peter's moods with a balancing counter, he has a way of phrasing questions that pull out stories Richard had never planned to tell.

A few nights before the children return to school, Richard sits up in bed, certain he has heard a faint cry, and he slips away from his exhausted wife to check on his children, remembering how Edmund had suffered from night terrors as a child, imagining little Lucy inflicted with some dark dream.

But all he finds is shadows in the boys' room, and quiet whispers—Peter's apologies, Edmund's reassurance, and allusions to things Richard has no context for. He lingers by the door, an outsider in his home, until silence falls, and he returns with morning light to find them curled together in Peter's bed, Pete with an arm over Ed, and the father's love is bittersweet.

They have fought their own battle over here, on the home ground, Richard reminds himself. In their own way they have each faced terror and learned to conquer or be conquered, but perhaps he can meet them somewhere in between. Only time will tell.

On the train platform, Ed hugs his father tightly, gives him a smile, tells him to keep out of trouble.

Lucy is the least changed, though she too is taller and stronger, and her eyes are deeper. She still sings, still dances, still tries to make friends with all the animals, still smiles and speaks kind and stares dreaming at the Christmas tree.

She still gives fierce hugs, still climbs into her father's lap, though her head comes up higher on his chest, on his shoulder.

But then he finds gaps in his library, and Lucy returns the medical books with a winsome apology, she asks questions about his practices in the field, she winces but does not shy away from the blood and broken things he speaks of.

Then she recites long poems, words spinning off her tongue until they become half song; she dances swift and graceful, she and Peter laughing and stepping and clapping and spinning in intricate patterns to the swing song on the radio; and it is she who, breathless, quotes Byron: "On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined!"

Her comfort is both generous and thoughtful, and she strokes her father's hair with a motherly hand that makes his eyes sting, and he kisses her fingers, looks up at her to whisper, "Don't- don't grow up quite so fast, my darling."

When she hugs him on the platform, Susan waiting for her, the boys already gone, she doesn't want to let go, and there are tears on her cheek, that he wipes away gently. "Be careful, Daddy," she whispers. "Get strong. Take care of Mummy."

"Yes, little mother," he smiles back.

And then they are all gone, and he takes a cab home, weary of his still-recovering body.

He will have to learn his children all over again, he thinks. But he is proud of them still. That has not changed.

[choerypetal]

Nap Time. / Mike Schmidt

Summary : You knew Mike ever since moving next door to his. While you were suggesting to look for a job and him in deed for a babysitter, to keep Abby during his night shifts. You accepted even at times to offer overtime, due to the nights at his work being somewhat more difficult than he had thought. Meaning having to also prepare tonight's dinner when Mike went to take a Nap. Warning : None, Just fluff!

Enjoy!

Mike had diligently prepared your paychecks for the past few months. Despite facing personal challenges, he consistently maintained his commitment to honesty. However, as he handed you your paycheck this time, there was a noticeable change in his demeanor. His gaze appeared strangely vacant, and he seemed to avoid eye contact, in line with his prior preference for avoiding meaningless, drawn-out conversations. You couldn't help but observe his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles underneath them, signaling that he hadn't enjoyed a peaceful night's sleep in quite a while.

Although you offered to stay a little longer, realizing that dinner wasn't ready and Abby was getting ready for bed, he firmly declined, shaking his head nervously, his stuttering making his anxiety apparent. "No–Noo– It’s– Abby can–" It was at this moment that you understood he had lost everything. The memories from that second night at the Pizzeria and the children were haunting him. He began to disconnect from reality, feeling his body temperature rise and sweat bead on his forehead. If Mike wasn't already in a state of torment, he had surely been gone for a long time.

"I insist." You firmly stated, believing in your words this time. Abby, who had been hesitant to peek from outside her room, came over to hug you. Seeing that you were still there, she tugged at the end of your shirt, signaling that you could stay even if her brother had chosen not to. She preferred spending more time with you, especially after all the recent events. While she deeply cared about her brother, she understood that sometimes adults needed their space, particularly when it involved taking Abby away from Mike and into the care of her aunt, who she herself had strongly objected to it. 

Mike observed the two of you, momentarily captivated by how he managed to keep his composure after all he had been through. He let out a sigh, soothingly rubbed his neck, and finally agreed before Abby could voice another protest directly. "Alright, alright. It wouldn't hurt if you stayed a little longer... Maybe  to also getting dinner ready too?"

A smile graced your features as you graciously accepted his request, fully aware of his fatigue. "I'll go take a nap if you... don't mind?" Without waiting for your response, he promptly headed to his room, leaving Abby and you alone in the room. "He's been rather grumpy lately." Abby remarked, her expression conveying her amusement as you playfully ruffled her hair. "Can I help?" She then offered to assist you with dinner, a proposition you welcomed with enthusiasm. "Of course. How about I handle the vegetables, and you mix everything?" Abby's face lit up with delight, and she eagerly took your arm, guiding you both to the kitchen.

The cooking process unfolded smoothly, with you patiently waiting for the spaghetti sauce to simmer according to your mother's cherished recipe, allowing it to develop its flavors over a few hours. As Abby settled in to watch her favorite nighttime comedy shows, you made the decision to rouse Mike from his nap before dinner was ready. You couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing he was in a somewhat disheveled state.

Carefully entering his room, your eyes wandered around, taking in the old drawings, family photographs, and a few posters that appeared to be recent additions, their sheen reflecting the moonlight streaming in through the window. Moving closer to his slumbering form, you gently brushed your fingers across his cheek, prompting him to emit a few soft whimpers in response to your tender touch. You couldn't help but smile, and as you continued to caress his cheek, you noticed his fingers entwining with yours. Initially, you thought it might be a sign to stop, but he murmured, "Please continue..." So softly that it nearly startled you, caught off guard by his vulnerability.

Mike unmistakably recognized your presence, discerning your perfume's scent and the tender affection you consistently bestowed upon him whenever the opportunity arose. However, tonight felt notably distinct, one of those nights when he needed your support the most. It pained him to see you openly caring for a guy burdened with numerous life problems, yet it was one of the aspects about you that he strangely admired, particularly your strong bond with Abby. As you prepared to rise and apologize for waking him so abruptly, he urged you to do the opposite. "Stay for a little while." he murmured, his words soft and slightly hoarse due to his dehydration, as he struggled to express himself.

In response, you emitted a soft hum and nodded, though you were uncertain if he truly meant it. He gently took hold of your wrist, assisting you in settling on his bed in front of him, his body shifting closer to yours. He rested his head on the crook of your neck, exhaling the familiar scent he had always been infatuated with. Though initially feeling a bit uneasy, you nervously cleared your throat and mentioned that dinner was nearly ready. However, he declined, saying, "Abby will know when to... Just stay here for a while."

You realized that declining wasn't even an option as Mike's arms were wrapped around your waist so tightly that he showed no intention of letting go any time soon. Although the sudden display of affection caught you off guard, you couldn't help but thoroughly enjoy this tranquil moment. Your soft smile graced your lips, and at just the right moment, Mike's eyes opened from his deep slumber, fixing on yours with a quizzical brow raised at the sight of your unexpected smile.

"What's the smile for?" He inquired, though he understood the meaning behind it and pretended not to, instead focusing on admiring every feature of your face. You shrugged, perhaps waiting for Mike to provide an answer, but he insisted that you share your thoughts. "I suppose it's just about sharing this moment with you." You confessed with a gentle smile.

"Is it?" He inquired, adopting a teasing tone, causing your cheeks to flush with warmth in response to the unexpected situation. Despite working as a babysitter for Mike, you had never anticipated or considered the possibility of a deeper relationship, let alone sharing his bed at this moment. As you found yourself also admiring his face, a subtle tingling sensation fluttered in your stomach—a mix of desire and affection for the man who had initially been nothing more than a neighbor.

"It is." You firmly concurred, your smile now more at ease. You couldn't help but giggle at how silly you must have sounded, only to then realize that the man who loved you, perhaps even adored you, had been right there in front of you all along. "I'm glad then..." He whispered softly, gently caressing your cheek. He showed no intention of releasing you for a while, even when he sensed your desire to do so, as the aroma of tomato sauce filled the entire house, signaling that dinner was ready.

"Nuh-Uh." He protested with a playful pout, fully aware of where your attention had swiftly shifted. "Pasta can wait just a little longer, please." He pleaded, emphasizing the word 'please.' His protest was more of a source of amusement than a genuine plea for pity. This time it was more of an theatrical performance, and you understood his intention. Even though you didn't make a strong effort to comply, you decided to stay a little longer, especially when you felt his lips against your skin. “I bet you even taste better than your mom’s spaghetti..” His journey from your neck to your collarbone brought a smile to your lips, intensifying the blush that had adorned your cheeks earlier.

In an attempt to deflect from your deepening blush, you attempted to cover it, but Mike had the time to gently lifted your chin as he turned your body to face him. "Did I ever told you that you look like an angel sent from above?" He boldly stated, making you initially think he might have lost his mind with such a bold compliment. However, you chuckled casually and replied. "I suppose so?" You decided to play along, mimicking the playful banter he had engaged in earlier, feigning innocence with a hint of sarcasm. To your surprise, this seemed to arouse him even more, making him desire you exclusively.

"You know."A familiar and youthful voice suddenly chimed in between the two of you, and Abby's figure peeked into Mike's room. You heard a sigh of annoyance, coupled with a sense of embarrassment, as you both realized where you had been all this time. Mike chuckled, "Yes, yes, Abby. We'll be right there for dinner."

"You heard her," you declared, joining Abby to help her get ready to serve dinner. Just as you were about to rise, Mike couldn't hide a pout, one that compelled you to lean in and press a soft kiss on his lips without hesitation. "Come on, grumpy old man. I'm hungry," you playfully protested, rubbing your stomach and indicating that he wouldn't receive any more kisses if he didn't comply. He sighed but abandoned the idea of keeping you both in bed, realizing his own hunger as his stomach grumbled in agreement.

As you got up and left the room, you glanced back at him with affectionate eyes before finally leaving to join Abby. It was in that moment that Mike fully comprehended the depth of what was happening—sharing his life with someone else, someone he loved and cared for deeply. It was something he hadn't expected, but here you were.

For once, Mike felt a sense of rest and inner peace.

[luvinescent]

Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.

Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.

Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)

In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.

“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.

Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.

Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.

She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.

Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.

“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.

She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.

Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.

Dorea named her Y/N.

As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.

“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.

Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths.  Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.

It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.

Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.

“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.

“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.

Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.

Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.

Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.

I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.

Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.

She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.

And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.

Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.

Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.

The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.

“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.

“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.

As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.

“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.

“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.

“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.

A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.

Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”

The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.  

“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “

“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”

“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, ���No. I have children.”

Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.

“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.

Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.

Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.

Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.

After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.

“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.

Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.

Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.

Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.

“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.

Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.

She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.

Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.

“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.

Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.

“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.

“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.

As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.

“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.

Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.

“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.

A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.

“You can become a Stark”.

Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “

Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.

Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.

“No.”

Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “

“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.

The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.

Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.

Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.

“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.

She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.

Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.

“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.

Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”.  Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.

For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.

The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.

“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.

He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”.  She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.

Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.

“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.

Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her.  A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.

“Do you love him?”.

She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.

The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “

“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.

Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.

Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.

Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.

Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.

“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.

Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.

“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.

Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “

“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.

“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”

Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.

A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.

[princesssmars]

thinking about princess reader and royal knight rhaenyra…

as the young princess of dorne, tourneys were nothing new to you. you’d never really cared for them, finding the blood and violence unnecessary and borderline barbaric. when you could you would beg your mother to come up with an excuse to your father to let you stay at the palace, citing sickness, weariness, anything.

but this time you had no choice. because as your family entered into the royal watching booth, politely greeting the members of your father court, your father stops before extending his hand to your guest - king viserys of westeros himself.

you’d heard many things about him, partially from overhearing your mothers gossip and from the workers talking a little too loudly when you’d sneak in the kitchens. you obviously knew he was a targaryen, his long silver gold hair and peculiar eyes telling anyone with a short distance of his heritage.

but more importantly you’d heard that he was a mostly kind and generous king, with a large portion of his people happy under his reign. there was no better option for your father to invite to his event.

you gracefully presented yourself to him, smiling when he kissed the back of your hand and gave you a polite compliment. he introduced his wife, the beautiful queen aemma, and his vibrant young son baelon who excitedly shook his hand at you and everyone else in the booth.

after the introductions everyone say down to let the people know the tourney could commence, cheers ringing as you settled into place in front of your father and next to rosalei, one of the fellow younger ladies in court who was your closest friend ever since she snuck some sugared treats to your room when the head cook had banned you from them for a week.

the even was like any other : knights got in their horses, they picked up giant sticks, then ran at each other on said horses with said sticks and tried to knock the other man down. yet again the event did nothing to entertain you, focusing on the small conversation you were keeping up with rosalei while paying attention to the ones around you. for now, your father and his guest had discovered their shared love for the histories and had veered to the animosity but occasional generosity between their people.

your father is close to getting on to the topic of a equally beneficial trade deal when whispers from the small folk take over the crowd, some standing up and pointing at a contender who had entered the fighting area. you bend over the edge of the booth to catch a look, ignoring your mother chastising your posture and manners.

it’s a knight everyone’s looking at, that’s true, but a knight unlike you’ve ever seen before. their armor is black and scarily imposing, a beautiful construction of steel with strong pleats and swoops. their horse is somehow darker than the armor, black as knight with a bright sun medallion around its neck. its only then you notice the flag in their hand, along with the dragon emblems on their armor.

"you have a competing knight, your grace?" you ask, turning your head around when you are only met with silence. the visiting kings face is red, smile so forced it looks like he’s going to quickly gain a cramp in his jaw. the queen is resting a hand on his shoulder, subtly trying to comfort him while they exchange hushed whispers.

“said…show strength…not what i meant-“

the queen tries to comfort him more before they look in your direction, along with every one else in your booth. your body goes rigid for a second before you realize they’re looking behind you, turning your body to see what was so intriguing.

the targaryen knight, poised right beneath the opening of the booth, helmeted head and joust sword tipped towards you. and even without being able to see their face you know their eyes are trained on you.

you can also tell that everyone is waiting for you to do something. so with all the farce you can muster you gently pick up your favor, raising it high enough for the people to see, and let it slide down onto the joust.

no further words are shared, the warrior staying in place for a few more seconds before goading their horse back into position. as you watch you plop back into your seat, breathing slightly stuttering at the encounter while your friend pokes and prods for an explanation for whatever that was.

even if you had the time you wouldn’t be able to say much, feeling like a warm thick jelly has suddenly made its home inside your throat. put of the corner of your you can see one of the kings guards looking at you, but before you can turn to look back at him the sudden roars of the crowd snap your attention to the game.

almost like a bolt of lighting does the warrior speed down the jousting lane, sword aimed steady at the burly man who had bested most of the other men in the contest. just when his sword is aimed inches away from the knight, then bend their body dangerously close to falling off of their horse before thrusting at just the right moment to knock the man down, the sound of galloping hooves and crunching metal all you can hear.

the cheers from the commoners is near deafening, but all you can focus on is the knight, who instead of basking in the success and praise is yet again looking in your direction. but looking back at the aghast king viserys, you can’t exactly tell who they are trying to impress.

after congratulating and thanking the people for coming and competing, and giving a personal thanks to the king for making his way down to your kingdom, your father dismisses everyone to enjoy the other tourney activities while the royal families go to prepare for later celebrations. after giving the royal family of westeros a quick goodbye, you grab rosealai’s hand and hurry out of the booth to grab a quick bite from one of the fair booths and to try to talk all you can about what just happened.

but right before you ca leave the booth you’re stopped in your tracks, no one other than the black knight standing in front of you. you blink up at them, waiting for them to speak before their hands raise to take off their helmet to reveal themselves . it’s almost in slow motion that you take in every part of their face - a soft angled jaw, pink lips, a broad nose, short silver hair -

“rhaenyra! finally, please show a bit of grace to our hosts and introduce yourself.” king viserys comes up beside you, gently scooting beside you to wrap an arm around the armored shoulders of the knight. “the last impression i’ll have my daughter making is that she’s yet another rude and british knight.”

neither of you move however, gazes locked and bodies still. only about a thousand thoughts are running through your head at the current moment.

the knight is a woman. the knight is an attractive woman. the knight is princess rhaenyra. princess rhaenyra who came up to your booth and quietly asked for your favor.

without a word spoken or breaking ye contact, the heavy hand of the princess grabs yours, physically strong but gently soft, bringing it up slowly before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

you’ve always been able to keep your composure in the face of extreme emotions, a necessary trait as a royal who had to make quick and harsh decisions. sadly that all seems to be going out the window as you feel your cheeks warm and your breathing get faster.

“it is an honor to meet you, princess. and even greater an honor to win a competition with your favor. i hope similar opportunities make themselves available in the future.”

her voice is melodic yet curt, no room for doubt or wrongful interpretation. you break her gaze to look down at her lips, looking back up to see her doing the same before a sly smile appears on her face.

clearly the moment goes on a little too long for comfort, the king further ushering his daughter to greet your father and mother after giving the two of you a worried look. when her body passes yours you can feel her hand discreetly brush against your side, shivering slightly at the cold of the steel even through the fabrics of your dress.

your father quickly motions for one of his guard to guide you back to the castle before turning to your guests with a welcoming but greedy smile. you can feel rosalei’s barey contained excitement as you rush out of the entryway, not before looking back one last time and seeing purple eyes already trained on your body.

maybe tourneys weren’t so boring after all.

can you tell i don’t really know shit about tourneys. sorry if some things are inaccurate i’m getting everything through hotd, asoiaf wiki, and tiktok’s 💔

[initialchains]

teenage dirtbag, baby! | luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: there is nothing more exhausting than being known as the picture perfect daughter of aphrodite… luckily, camp half-blood’s resident teenage dirtbag luke castellan can’t relate at all. fake dating him to piss off your siblings and mother could never go wrong, right? (based on 18 by anarbor)

wc: 6.5k

warnings: smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, implied sexual content, drew tanaka being a bitch, and kinda ooc luke bcs hes meant to be well … a teenage dirtbag.

a/n: its still valentine’s day for me sooo happy valentines 💌💗 !! in mexico valentine’s day is also known as the day of friendship so this one is dedicated to my favorite people ever: @emiliehornby @love-that-we-were-in and @kestisvrse <3 !! hope you enjoy it mwah !!

The sounds of campers laughing and gossiping in the dining pavilion are drowned out by your siblings and their annoyingly loud whispers about the allegedly cute (you’d beg to differ) son of Ares who joined camp less than twelve hours ago. Sure, he seemed like a nice guy even though he's a child of the god of war, but you were certain the only reason they kept bringing him up was because they wanted to set you up with him.

“And his arms, oh my gods! Have you seen them?” one of your brothers chimed in, trying to get you to agree with him, but all you could come up with was a hum and a polite smile. 

It pissed you off a bit, the knowledge of you never being able to go against your siblings' wishes.. the fear of disappointing them and your mother being all-consuming and blinding you with fear.

There were times you’d think about it if you’re being honest. Times where you would let yourself dream of doing something so stupidly reckless for once. Something that would stop your siblings from walking all over you and treating you like their personal lapdog. 

Not only was it tiring but it was also humiliating to a certain point. You were older than most of them and you were pretty sure you were the only one that took being a demigod seriously, even taking your time to strategize for Capture The Flag with Clarisse, and yet… you rejected Chiron when he asked you to be a counselor and told him to ask Silena instead. 

And you loved your family—you really did, but it was getting exhausting. Always having to be perfect was draining you and you were afraid of the kind of person you’d become if you allowed this to keep going. 

“He totally wants to ask you out,” Silena’s voice snapped you out of the daze you were trapped in. You turned your head to the right, facing your half-sister with a small frown on your face.

“You really think so?” you replied, trying your best to sound excited. 

“Oh, I know so,” she answered before going on a whole rant about how cute you’d look with the newly claimed son of Ares. A son of Ares—that you badly wanted to remind her—had only been in camp for less than twelve hours and you knew nothing about. 

You stayed in the dining pavilion with your siblings until you found the strength to tell them you were tired and wanted to go to sleep (an incredibly blatant lie but it didn’t look like they cared) and stood up, brushing the dust off your jeans.

“Wait, I’ll go with you!” Silena said with a smile, standing up and moving closer to you. 

“You don’t have to. You can stay with them if you want to, really—“ you were cut off by your half-sister with an exasperated sigh.

“I want to go with you. Plus, I can walk back here once I drop you off at the cabin,” she stated with a playful roll of her eyes.

The two of you walked back to the Aphrodite cabin in a comfortable silence. You liked being with Silena, she was a few years younger than you but she carried herself with so much grace and love it was hard to feel uncomfortable or weird whenever you hung out with her.

You kept your gaze on the sky, noticing that the moon was out by now. “Hey,” Silena whispered, trying to get your attention.

“You okay?” you answered. Your mind was practically hardwired to always look after your siblings, so your brain was unwillingly making you think of the worst-case scenario.

“What? Yeah, I am okay,” Silena was quick to reassure you, “I just wanted to talk to you about—“

“I swear to all the gods, Silena. If this is about that camper..” you replied with a small sigh. The two of you stopped walking when you reached your cabin, deciding to continue the conversation outside.

“He’s not that bad! He is a nice guy and the two of you would look really cute together,” she insisted.

“You don’t even know him.”

“Ugh, fine. Good thing is there are other cute campers we can introduce you to. I met one of Charlie’s brothers a few weeks ago and I think he’d—“

“I can’t do this tonight,” you replied in an exhausted tone.

“Wow, okay. No need to be mean about it,” Silena muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been trying to help you find a boyfriend for months now and you always shut me down. It was fine at first but now you’re just being mean,” she explained.

“Mean? Silena, you said it yourself. I’ve always shut you down because I’m not interested in getting one.”

“Whatever,” she replied bitterly before turning around and walking back to the dining pavilion, leaving you alone outside of your cabin. 

You stared at her back as she walked away, going through the last few minutes over and over in your head. Were you being mean? All you did was stick up for yourself. You didn’t understand why you were feeling bad for standing up against your siblings just for once.

A snort made you realize you weren’t alone. You turned your head towards the noise just to be met with.. oh.

Luke Castellan was leaning against the side of your cabin, carefully hidden under the darkness of the night and the shadows of the trees, he had a cigarette in his right hand and an obnoxious smirk adorning his even more obnoxious face. 

“Hope you enjoyed the show, Castellan.”

Luke raised his hands as if he had been caught and blew the smoke away, “I’m on your side, she was being a fucking bitch.”

“Don’t call her that, she’s just a kid.”

Luke raised a brow before taking another drag of his cigarette, “Do not call your sister a bitch after seeing her.. be a bitch to you?” he shook his head. “Oh, princess, you need to work on getting rid of that altruism.”

“Do you even know what that word means?” you snapped, not being in the mood to indulge in whatever it was he wanted to talk about.

“Why? You want to teach me?” He said with a smirk.

“Don’t even start with your annoying stuff, Castellan,” you muttered, running a hand down your face, clearly overwhelmed with everything that had happened. 

“Because you know you won’t want me to stop?” he pressed, but after a moment of silence his smirk fell and a frown took over his features. 

“Uh.. you want to...” he trailed off and cleared his throat, “you want to talk about it or something?” 

You squinted at him before eventually letting out a sigh and walking over to Luke, standing next to him with your back pressed against the wooden walls of your cabin. Luke extended his arm away from you to keep the smoke far from your face. 

“So, um... Silena wants to set me up with that new camper,” you started.

“Fuck. The Ares one?” Luke interrupted.

“Castellan.”

“Right, sorry. Please continue, princess.”

You decided to ignore the insufferable pet name he gave you and continued, “The thing is I do want a boyfriend, just not… him.”

Luke hummed before bringing the cigarette to his lips again and inhaling the smoke in, he kept his mouth closed as he thought of something decent to say before slightly tilting his head away from you and blowing out the smoke upwards. 

“Alright, and have you tried telling her to stop?” he cut himself off and shook his head. “Nope that was shitty advice, have you tried maybe describing your type or whatever it is you Aphrodite people say to describe the people you’re attracted to.” 

“My type?” you replied, almost offended by the statement.

“Yeah?” Luke answered as if it was the most obvious thing to do, “Just describe the type of guys you’re into and I’m sure that cult of yours you like to call siblings will be happy to help…” he trailed off when he noticed your gaze set on his right hand and your bottom lip in between your teeth as he flicked the cigarette, causing the ashes to fall into the ground. 

He looked up from his hand and burst out into laughter, shaking his head before whispering an amused fuck. 

“Oh?” Luke said with a bright smile and raised brows, “You find this attractive, angel?” 

“That thing is going to kill you,” you explained, “I’m not attracted to people that like to slowly kill themselves.” 

“Fucking bummer. I wanted to see you take a drag, that would’ve been really hot,” he said, his smile not wavering. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you don’t drink, right?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Look at you, being such a good girl,” Luke teased before throwing the rest of his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. 

“Also, that thing you said about Silena being just a kid was really fucking stupid. She’s almost the same age as Annabeth and she doesn’t act like an asshole, I’m pretty sure your sweet little sister is just a bitch.” 

Annabeth. You forgot that even though Luke is an annoyance most of the time and prefers to stick to himself.. he still has a soft spot for the twelve year old daughter of Athena. It was kind of endearing. 

“Annabeth is a daughter of Athena, you can’t expect her to act—“

“You didn’t act like Silena when you were fourteen. You need to stop giving her excuses and allow yourself to get mad at her.” 

“I’d rather have my siblings get mad at me and just stop perceiving me as this perfect and weak person, maybe once that happens they’ll stop trying to mess with my life,” you explained, your gaze set towards the ground. 

Luke was about to open his mouth and try to come up with a funny one-liner to make you feel better, but he didn’t get to because you were quick to look up at him with a gasp and wide eyes.

“The fuck? Are you okay?” 

“I need you.”

“Shit, angel. Most girls say that after a few dates but I’m not against the idea,” he said with an amused look in his eyes. 

“Ew, no. I mean, I need to date you—fake date you.”

“I’m uh... not for sale?” Luke answered, clearly confused by the plan you were trying to explain.

“No, Castellan. Listen to me. My siblings despise you, I’m sure they’d set my bed on fire as a way of cleansing my soul from you if they find out we’re dating.”

Luke’s eyes got bright and his smile widened (if that was even possible), “Set your bed on fire? And what would we do in your bed for them to feel disgusted by its existence?”

“You’re disgusting. Anyway, if we fake date I’ll get to stop being perceived as their perfect sister and you’ll have bragging rights for dating an Aphrodite kid,” you said, moving your hands as you spoke. 

“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” Luke asked carefully, trying to make you think about what was at stake. He didn’t give a shit about staining his already nonexistent reputation, but he couldn’t have you ruin yours. 

“I am so sure, Castellan,” you reassured him. 

“You know, for a good girl I’m extremely surprised you never say please.”

“Please, Castellan. Could you please be my fake boyfriend so I can finally stop being seen as my siblings' personal toy?” you said with a fake smile while bringing your hands together as an exaggerated way of begging Luke to say yes. 

“You’re so cute when you beg. But you need to prove to me you’re serious about this fake dating thing. Meet me tomorrow at the bonfire, no bullshit.” 

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You had been on edge the entire day. Silena seemed to be past the argument, which made you feel better to an extent, but that didn’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling that settled in your gut because throughout the day you could feel someone staring at you. You could feel Luke staring at you.  

You were walking past the sword fighting arena with Katie Gardner from the Demeter Cabin the first time it happened. The feeling of a pair of eyes completely set on you. You turned your head to the right just to be met with Luke’s exhausted figure, he was sweating and panting, but that didn’t stop him from running his eyes up and down your figure and smiling at you. 

To say Katie was disgusted would be an understatement. A “Castellan is a dick, you should stay away from him,” was enough to stop you from staring at him and turning your head back to Katie. She went on to explain how Luke was a “real shitty person” and only hooked up with her as a way of getting her to grow weed in the back of the stables. 

It happened around eight times in the last two hours (not that you were counting) and it only got worse when the moon came up and everyone was making their way to the bonfire. You were walking next to Michael Yew when you felt a hand on your lower back. 

Luke’s hand on your lower back, to be exact. He left it there as he walked past you, only turning his head back to say “It’s adorable to see you together, are you two a couple?” 

You had to hold yourself back from strangling him when you heard his irritating laugh after he saw Michael’s reaction to his statement. Michael tried his best to be polite and tell him he was wrong, that there was nothing going on between the two of you. 

But his reply only seemed to fuel Luke’s actions even more because all he did was answer with a cocky “Oh, I know. Our princess here is only into... what was it? People that like to slowly kill themselves with cigarettes?” before walking away.

You were going to kill him.

Michael left your side as soon as you arrived, moving to sit with his siblings from the Apollo Cabin… leaving you with two choices: sitting with your siblings or sitting next to Luke (who for some reason always sat alone and spent the entire time listening to the music coming from the MP3 player he somehow managed to get into camp). 

So this is what Luke meant, you thought. This was the only way you could prove to him and everyone that you were serious about dating him—fake dating him—but it's not like they would ever know the truth.

You dragged your feet as you walked towards Luke, clearly having second thoughts about your plan, but there was no turning back now. You tried to ignore the confused look Drew was giving you and the gasps you could hear coming from your siblings. 

“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” You weren't so sure anymore but that didn’t stop you from taking a seat next to Luke Castellan, who took one of his earphones off and looked at you with a smile. 

“Happy now? I just proved how serious I am about this,” you whispered to him, trying your best to not let anyone hear you.

Luke nodded before saying, “You could’ve done better, but I’ll take it.”

“Done better? I just sat next to you in front of the entire camp, isn’t this good enough for you?” you asked, indignation evident in your tone. 

“Promise not to beat me up?” Luke said before pulling your arm and manhandling your body so you were on top of him, sitting on his lap. He placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Wow, Castellan. How scandalous, I’m sitting on your lap,” you deadpanned. 

He chuckled, bringing you closer to him and pressing his lips against yours. Luke’s hands felt like fire against your skin, all you could feel was a heat taking all over your body as he continued to kiss you, only pulling away to catch his breath before bringing you in for another one, this time he kissed you deeper and faster. 

Luke dragged you closer to him by pressing your hips against his and all you could do was melt into him and the feeling of his lips against yours. In the distance, you could hear gasps and people gagging, and you were pretty sure the campers from the Ares Cabin were cheering and whistling, but all your thoughts were on Luke Castellan and how good of a kisser he is.

You pulled away first this time, trying to steady your breathing as you looked into his eyes. He licked his lips before whispering “We should go.”

Your eyes widened as soon as he said that, the implications of what the sentence meant making you feel nervous. Luke was quick to reassure you, “If we leave, your siblings will be even more outraged. We don’t have to do anything, but they’ll think we are doing…some stuff. Just come to the woods with me for a little while.” 

You nodded and grabbed his hand as he guided you through the woods. You could hear Silena calling out your name and warning you about the consequences of your actions, but her voice was drowned out by the loud cheers coming from Clarisse.

Once the two of you were far enough from the rest of the campers, Luke let go of your hand and sat down by the lake, nodding his head as a way of asking you to join him.

You sat in silence for a few minutes until Luke spoke first. “How long do you think we should keep this thing up?”

“Valentina and Drew will want us to be over by tonight,” you said with a smile, a laugh escaping your lips. You didn’t notice how Luke’s eyes got brighter when he heard your laugh or how the melody that came out of your lips went straight through his heart and made him feel more alive.

“But I think a week should be enough. We can say we’ve been secretly dating for like... five months? That way it won’t be weird if we break up in a week,” you explained while your fingers played with your camp necklace. 

Luke nodded before going silent again, staring at the lake with a look you couldn’t quite comprehend. Your gaze was set on him, your eyes traveling from his toned arms, all the way to the scar that sat right below his right eye. 

“I know it’s awful, I can feel you staring at it,” he murmured. You could physically feel your heart sinking when he said it. You cleared your throat, “No, I… I think it’s beautiful. I think you’re—” Luke turned his head to face you, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “I think you’re really brave, Luke.” 

“Beautiful?” Luke asked, confusion written all over his face. “You should hear what your siblings say about it, then. I’m sure your opinion would change in a second.” 

“Being an Aphrodite kid means you see beauty everywhere,” you explained, “And I think your scar must be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Luke stared at you with an unreadable expression, making your heart almost beat out of your chest. 

“Are you flirting with me, angel?”

“Of course, you’d ruin the moment. Screw you, man.” You rolled your eyes. 

Luke threw his head back in a fit of laughter, it made you want to strangle him… again. “Did you just say screw you? Gods, princess, saying fuck won’t kill you.” 

“I don’t like to curse, thank you for pointing it out, Castellan,” you said, playfully shoving him, making him fake a gasp. 

“You went from trying to seduce me to trying to kill me, you’re so interesting, angel,” he said before letting out a sigh. “It, uh… It was really hard at first, getting used to the scar.”

“Having people call it all sorts of names, and looking at me with nothing but pity in their eyes was not easy to get used to. But after some time you just… stop caring. I mean, I’m not that big of an asshole to hold a grudge over a fucking scar, it even looks sick. But yeah, when it gets hard again all I can do is snort a line and move on.

“The coke smuggling was real?” you gasped, only focusing on the last sentence he said. Luke tried to keep a straight face but his facade fell the moment he noticed your wide eyes. Luke Castellan has the type of laugh that makes everything get fuzzy and makes you feel lightheaded, and all you wanted to do was to come up with bad jokes just for the sole reason of hearing him do it again. 

“Fuck, you really believe anything, huh?”

“Shut up, Castellan. I’ll literally stab you and let you slowly bleed to death,” you threatened, standing up from your place next to him. Luke followed you as you walked back to the cabins.

“You do know I’m the best swordsman in the last 300 years, right? Do you even know how to wield a sword?” he asked, matching your pace and walking next to you. 

“Low blow, just because I don’t like to indulge in violence it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to wield a sword,” you retorted. 

Luke snorted a laugh, “You don’t know, do you?”

“No, I don’t. Will you shut up now?”

“I only will if you accept to let me teach you how to fight tomorrow,” Luke said with a tilt to his head. He didn’t even give you a chance to answer because he walked away from you while saying a loud “Meet me tomorrow morning in the sword fighting arena.” 

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You were sure you were seconds away from passing out. It's been around two hours of sparring with Luke and your arms and legs were about to give out. The sun was starting to come out, which meant this torture was nearly over. At least that’s what Luke promised. “We’ll stop as soon as the other campers wake up, that way you won’t have to be embarrassed if they see your… skills.”

The two of you circled each other, your swords were raised and Luke’s blade was pointing straight at you. Luke took a second to study your stance before lunging forward, his sword meeting yours as you quickly blocked his attack. “Not too bad, huh?” Luke teased before trying to get another hit, his moves becoming more calculated the longer you kept blocking his advances. Proving he wasn’t called the best swordsman at camp for nothing. 

With a disarming maneuver you weren’t aware of, Luke was quick to throw your sword to the ground and have you stumbling back, not being able to regain your footing. Luke gave you a smirk when your body hit the ground with a small thud, “That was easy,” he said, “We should do this more often.” 

“Nope, this is a one-time thing, Castellan,” Luke rolled his eyes before bringing the blade of his sword closer to you, reaching for your chin with a glint in his eyes. The blade met your chin and Luke lifted it, making you meet his gaze as he slowly made you stand up by raising his sword even higher. 

The two of you stood still, staring intently into each other’s eyes until you heard it—the sound of the Ares Cabin making their way to the arena. Luke let out a surprised shit, dropped his sword to the ground, and walked closer to you, cupping your jaw with his right hand and kissing you. 

Your lips met in a hurried collision, causing the same fire from yesterday to set in your stomach. Your hands moved to Luke’s hair, softly pulling it as the kiss got heated. You knew this was fake, you knew this kiss meant nothing to him… but you didn’t want him to stop. “Holy fuck, are you two always sucking each other’s faces?” Clarisse’s voice cut through the moment, causing you to pull away from Luke, unable to meet his gaze. 

“Yeah, that’s what being in a relationship entails. I don’t think you’d know much about it, La Rue,” Luke breathes out.

“Don’t you have weed to sell or a cheap bottle of vodka to down, Castellan?” 

“Aw, you know me so well,” Luke answered before picking up both of your swords and grabbing your hand, walking away from the arena. 

The following days were (and you hated to admit it) filled with the most fun you’ve ever had. Luke would come up with some insane idea for a fake date and it would always end with one of you lying about seeing a camper or hearing Silena’s voice as an excuse to make out with each other. 

There was this one time the two of you were having a picnic by the strawberry fields and the day ended with the two of you hiding in the empty forge while making out, running your hands over each other’s bodies, and doing the normal stuff fake couples always do… it all happened because Luke swore he heard Valentina’s voice near the fields. (You were sure Valentina had been on the stables that entire day because she had cleaning duty, but why wouldn’t you play along with something you also wanted to do?)  

It was Sunday–the last day of your fake relationship–when Silena finally found the guts to talk to you about Luke. You even felt slightly bad for the girl because she was so nervous when she sat next to you in the dining pavilion. 

“I..um... I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she began, “Well, there are lots of things for me to apologize for, but I think it’s pretty obvious what the main problem is.” 

“The way I’ve been treating you is not okay and I’m really ashamed of it. You shouldn’t have to feel pressured to be the person we want you to be, I used to see you as someone who couldn’t do things on her own and always needed someone to push her and help her handle everything… and now I see I was wrong,” Silena explained, running a hand through her hair. 

“It’s fine, Silena. I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do. You’re strong and more than capable of doing things on your own, and you don’t need me to try and help you or fix you.” She took a deep breath. “I didn't know you were dating Luke, and to be honest I didn’t even know he was your type. He is so… weird and I never would’ve guessed you were dating. I mean, Drew told me he does cocaine and—”

“He doesn’t,” you interrupted.

Silena raised a brow before continuing, “Anyway, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad for just... existing. And you always look so happy after hanging out with Luke, I truly hope the two of you stay together for a long time.” 

You didn’t even know how to explain the situation so you just blurted out “I broke up with him.” 

Silena looked shocked for a few seconds before letting out a deep breath, “Oh, thank the gods. Just because we trust you it doesn’t mean we trust him,” she spat the him with so much disgust it made you feel sick. “You deserve so much better.” 

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

This is probably the first time you have ever felt ill at the thought of seeing Luke. Sure, you used to be annoyed by his presence before the whole fake dating situation even started, but at least you were a strange type of friends back then. Not really close but also not complete strangers. There were times you’d catch him hiding his secret stash of weed behind the stables and didn’t tell anyone, and he’d always pay you back by lying to Chiron about you practicing your sword skills with him. (You had only used a sword once and it was years ago when you were still a new camper, you had no idea why Chiron would ever believe him.)

Luke was sitting in his usual spot by the lake, a cigarette in his hand. It had become a tradition for the two of you to always meet up by the lake before curfew to talk about your day and practice your kissing so it wouldn’t look fake. 

“Hey,” you said, taking a seat next to him. Luke threw his cigarette to the ground, stepped on it, and almost instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your temple. “Blink-182?” you asked, nodding at the MP3 he had on his lap. 

“The Smashing Pumpkins,” Luke answered, taking his earphones off. “Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness is one of the best albums ever made.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’ll take your word for it,” you said. Luke smiled and poked your side. 

“So, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” you began, but Luke held up his hand as a way to get you to stop.

“Can I say something first?” he asked, looking shy for probably the first time since the day you met him. 

You nodded and let him take the lead of the conversation. “Alright, so… I’m kind of shit with words so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but this past week has probably been the best week of my life. And I’m not even fucking around, I don’t have many friends–apart from Annabeth, and getting to be with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Being your friend is the greatest gift the gods have ever given me, and sometimes I feel like I don’t even deserve it. I’m a mess of a person, and you’re well… you’re you,” Luke stared deeply into your eyes, “And I just wanted to let you know that—”

Luke didn’t get to finish his sentence because this time it was you who cut him off with a kiss. You could taste the cigarette on his lips as he brought you closer to him, running a hand down your back and deepening the kiss before pulling away and moving to kiss your neck. 

Luke began to trail kisses down your throat and only stopped to whisper a low “Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.”

Aphrodite.

You pushed him away the moment you remembered your mother. “Silena apologized. We can stop pretending now.”

Luke was silent and just stared at you, his fingers moving to fidget with the wire of his earphones. “Oh, right,” he cleared his throat. “It’s Sunday, I forgot.”

You knew he didn’t.

“Yup, so we can go back to normal now,” you said, looking away from his eyes because you knew it would only take one look into them for you to kiss him again.

“Good,” Luke stood up, not daring to even shoot you a glance, and walked away. Leaving you alone by the lake with the lingering smell of his cheap stolen cologne mixed with the cigarette he was smoking. 

It didn’t help that you were welcomed into your cabin with hugs and your siblings congratulating you for breaking up with the son of Hermes. Sure, you weren’t the perfect sister anymore because you dated Luke Friendless-Freak Castellan, but knowing they liked you just because you were with him and then broke his heart made you want to set the cabin on fire. 

The main rule of the Aphrodite Cabin was something your siblings were extremely proud of, but the thought of its existence made you want to storm into Mount Olympus by yourself and yell at your mother for putting all these useless ideas into their heads. 

For a child of Aphrodite to prove themselves, they must make someone fall in love with them and then break that someone's heart. 

Is it possible for the rule to backfire? For the child of Aphrodite to accidentally fall in love with someone and then break their own heart because of it? You didn’t even know if that was an option, but you were sure that’s exactly what you were going through right now. 

It was hard for you to go to sleep that night because your mind kept replaying the past week on a loop. Your conversation with Luke by your cabin. The night of the bonfire. The conversation by the lake about his scar. Sparring with him. Going on a million fake dates. The night on the forge. Your last conversation with him. 

“Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.” 

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You could feel Luke staring at you. Again. 

You were helping Annabeth strategize for Capture The Flag, because she had the brilliant idea to have the Athena cabin team up with Hermes and Aphrodite. You didn’t know much about fighting and spent most of the time sitting with your sisters during the game, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy helping them come up with new plans. 

Once the three of you were done, Annabeth excused herself with an awkward “I think Malcolm wanted me to help him go through some maps. You two have fun… chatting!” and left as fast as she could, leaving you alone with Luke. 

You watched her leave the amphitheater and turned around to face Luke, “I can see why you like her. She’s so much like you.”

“Yeah, she’s like my little sister.”

The silence was so uncomfortable you almost broke down crying. You nodded and turned around, not being strong enough to face him, and walked away. You could hear him behind you, following you.

“Can we talk?” he pleaded.

You were about to open your mouth when Drew’s voice made you turn your head. “Gods, Castellan. It’s so embarrassing to still be hung up on your ex.” 

Luke sighed, “Hello to you too, Tanaka.” 

“Can you leave her alone? She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Drew said through a fake smile. 

“Oh, really? Did she tell you that?” Luke answered, tilting his head as he spoke and making eye contact with you. Wordlessly begging you to please talk to him. 

You stayed silent and looked away from him. Luke let out an incredulous laugh before nodding his head. “Good to know you’re back to being their little pet.” 

Drew rolled her eyes and walked away, shoving Luke as she walked past him. “So? You’re just not going to say anything?” Luke said. 

“What do you want me to say, Castellan?” 

“Tell me that last week didn’t mean anything to you,” Luke answered, his voice trembling. 

“Why do you care? I thought I was nothing but Drew’s little pet,” you replied, trying your best to not look weak in front of him.

Luke ran a hand through his hair and stepped closer to you, “I’m sure you’re thinking the exact same thing about yourself.” 

You hated that he was right.

The truth made your blood boil. “I don’t want any of your shit,” Luke let out a genuine laugh this time, a mocking look in his eyes. “Oh, so now she can curse?” 

You hated him for seeing the real you. You hated him for knowing the truth. You hated yourself for loving him.

“Fuck you, Castellan,” Luke hummed before stepping even closer to you and placing a hand on your waist, leaning to whisper in your ear. “I’m sure you’d love to do that again, right?” Luke’s smell was taking all over your senses and making your knees go weak. He continued, “Because even if we do it in the darkness of the Forge… it is still two friends fake dating because your mother might be watching.” 

You found the strength to press your hands against his chest and push him away, “Don’t talk to me ever again.” 

You spent the rest of the day with your siblings and friends, too afraid to leave their side because you didn’t trust yourself. Because you knew that if you were left alone for a second—you’d run straight to him. 

You sat next to Silena in the dining pavilion. Helped Katie and the Dyonisus cabin grow more strawberries by keeping them company. Walked with Michael to the bonfire, and stayed with Drew throughout the entire singalong. 

As always, Luke was sitting by himself, his MP3 player in his hand and his eyes were set on you. 

You walked back to your cabin when the singalong was over and helped your siblings get ready for bed. You were about to go to sleep when Valentina whispered your name, saying she had something for you.

“We found it last night under your bed, Drew wanted to give it to the harpies but I managed to take it away from her,” a frown made its way to your face.”What do you mean?”

“We found this,” She pulled out a badly wrapped gift from under her pillows. You were confused until she told you to open it.

 It was a bright pink MP3 player. 

“Oh,” you whispered, your hands shook as you stared at it. “I’ve got to—”

“It’s okay,” Valentina whispered. “He’s probably by the lake.”

You gave your half-sister a hug before running out of your cabin, and making your way to the lake. You could see Luke’s silhouette in the distance, and the sight only made you run faster.

You took a moment to catch your breath before saying, “The Smashing Pumpkins?”

Luke turned around at the sound of your voice. “Blink-182” he answered with a small smirk.

“Uh, of course,” you said as you walked closer to him. “Alright, listen. You were right.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you continued with a smile. “So, it turns out I may or may not be in love with this certain guy, and he may or may not be my type or whatever it is my siblings say.”

Luke took a step closer to you. “There’s a chance this guy thinks I’m going through a phase and only fake dated him to piss off my siblings and mother but the truth is… I don’t even care about them whenever I’m with him.” 

His hand moved to caress your cheek, “That’s cute and all but how does this guy know you truly mean that?” 

“I’m not going to make out with him at the bonfire, so I guess all he needs to do is believe me,” you whispered, your eyes moving from Luke’s eyes to his lips.

Luke smiled before answering, “Believe you? That’s alright with me,” and pressing his lips to yours.

Luke was right. Aphrodite would be proud. 

[cece693]

He's Taken (Jason Grace x Son of Aphrodite)

Since one of you requested something with Jason and a son of Aphrodite, I wrote this to prepare for it :)

Summary: Piper has had the biggest crush on Jason...too bad he's already taken and by her sibling, no less.

tags: Piper chases after Jason, she should've known he was taken, you're Aphrodite's favorite child, jealousy between siblings, protective Jason

Piper should’ve known Jason was taken the moment he politely turned down her flirtatious remarks, following it up by calling her a "very good friend." Friend. That word alone should’ve raised multiple red flags, but Piper was blinded by her crush on the son of Jupiter. Maybe Jason was just as oblivious as Percy had been, from what Annabeth had fondly recalled, but when their group arrived at Camp Half-Blood and the Roman immediately ran toward a handsome boy waiting at the camp’s border, Piper finally understood.

The reason Jason wasn’t interested in her was because he was already in a relationship—with you, M/N, Aphrodite’s most favored child. Though no one had explicitly said you were the favorite, the moment Piper stayed in Cabin 10 and saw you casually conversing with your mother through a seashell—as if it were the most natural thing in the world—she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Here you were, not only in a relationship with Jason, the boy she liked, but you were also head of Cabin 10, and on such good terms with Aphrodite, a goddess often criticized for her distant treatment of her children.

Piper wanted to hate you, but it was impossible.

You were kind—too kind. You had a natural charm that Piper couldn’t help but notice, and it wasn’t long before you started forming close friendships with the rest of her friends. You had been friends with Annabeth, Percy, and Nico way before Piper knew them, so that didn't sting, but when Hazel, Frank, and Leo began to enjoy your company, hanging out without a care in the world, it stung.

Each interaction stoked Piper’s jealousy. She could see how easily you fit in with everyone—how naturally people gravitated toward you. It wasn’t your fault, but it felt like you were taking over her world.

Then, she heard about the rite of passage.

While spending more time with the children of Aphrodite, Piper learned about an old tradition within the cabin. Each camper, once they had reached a certain level of maturity or skill, was expected to break someone’s heart. It was supposed to be a test—an initiation of sorts to prove their power over love, to demonstrate that they could wield it as a tool. It had been prohibited a while back, campers calling it an outdated and cruel practice, but Piper couldn’t shake the feeling that you were still following the old ways.

You're playing him, she thought bitterly. How dare you wrap him around your finger, only to break his heart down the line. Upon discovering this, she was unable to take it anymore. Storming into Cabin 10, while the rest of camp was busy at the dining pavilion, Piper found you sitting on your bed, reading, looking annoyingly serene.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Piper spat, her voice trembling with barely contained rage.

You looked up slowly, frowning at the harsh tone. “What?"

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know,” Piper snapped, stepping closer. “I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re using Jason, stringing him along, just waiting for the perfect moment to break his heart.”

“Piper, you’re not making any sense. What are you talking about?”

“The rite of passage!” Piper’s voice was rising, her emotions barely under control. “That ridiculous tradition your cabin has where you break someone’s heart to prove yourself. That’s what you’re doing to Jason, isn’t it? You’re leading him on, playing him!”

You sighed, setting your book aside, your patience wearing thin. “Piper, you’re letting your jealousy cloud your judgment. This isn’t about Jason or some old tradition—this is about you not being able to accept that Jason is with someone else.”

Piper’s eyes flashed, her fists clenching at her sides. “Don’t twist this around on me! I’m trying to protect Jason. You’re going to hurt him—I know it. You’ve been manipulating him from the start!”

“No, Piper,” you said firmly, standing to face her. “This is your jealousy talking. You’re so desperate to find something—anything—to make Jason yours that you’re willing to believe whatever makes me the villain. But the only thing you're doing is pushing him away. Accept that he only sees you as a friend."

Although Piper disliked you immensely, that didn't mean you were happy to see your sibling suffer. Love was both a blessing and a curse. While you felt in paradise, basking in Jason's love, Piper suffered from painful, unrequited love.

Piper’s breath caught in her throat, her anger faltering for a moment as your words struck a chord. But she quickly pushed it aside, shaking her head. “That’s not true. I just don’t want to see him get hurt.”

“You don’t want to see him get hurt, or you don’t want to see him happy with someone else?”

Piper’s face flushed with anger and hurt. “I love him! And I know he loves me too, he just doesn’t see it because you’ve blinded him!”

Before the argument could escalate further, the cabin door swung open, and Jason stepped inside, his brow furrowed with confusion. His sharp blue eyes flicked between you and Piper, quickly sensing the tension in the room. “What’s going on?”

Piper turned to him, her desperation clear as she rushed to explain, “Jason, you have to listen to me—M/N’s just using you, manipulating your feelings to pass some sick test!”

Jason’s frown deepened, clearly caught off guard by her accusation. “What are you talking about?”

Piper’s voice cracked, a mix of panic and emotion seeping through as she took another step toward him, her eyes pleading. “That old rite of passage—where a child of Aphrodite has to break someone’s heart. He’s just waiting for the perfect moment to tear you apart. I’m trying to protect you from getting hurt!”

Jason blinked, his confusion gradually giving way to understanding. His posture relaxed as he sighed, but his voice remained firm. “Piper, stop. You’re wrong.”

Piper froze in place, her heart pounding in her chest as Jason’s words sunk in. “What? No, Jason, I’m not wrong! They’re lying to you!”

Jason stepped forward, his gaze steady and unwavering. “No, they’re not. I already know about the rite of passage, Piper. M/N told me about it a long time ago.”

The room seemed to close in on Piper, her world momentarily spinning. “You…you knew?”

Jason nodded slowly. “Yes. And I also know that it was M/N who banned it.”

Piper shook her head, her mind racing as she tried to process what he was saying. “No, that can’t be true. He’s just...how can you be so sure?”

Jason sighed softly, stepping closer to her, his voice quieter but filled with conviction. “Piper, I know you’re trying to protect me, but you have to understand—I know M/N. I know him better than anyone, and he would never hurt me. He loves me too much to do something as horrible as that."

Piper’s eyes darted between the two of you, still filled with confusion and doubt. “But what if you’re wrong? What if—”

“I’m not wrong, Piper,” Jason interrupted gently but firmly, his gaze unwavering. “I trust him completely. He’s never given me a reason to doubt him.”

Piper stood there, frozen for a moment, Jason’s words echoing in her mind. The certainty in his voice, the way he spoke about M/N with such unwavering trust—it hit her like a punch to the gut. Jason was in love with him. Truly, deeply in love.

Her heart cracked. No matter how much she wanted to believe she could change his mind, the reality was staring her in the face: she didn’t stand a chance.

Without saying another word, Piper took a step back, her chest tightening as the weight of her unrequited feelings pressed down on her. She bit her lip to keep the tears from spilling, her pride barely holding together. Then, before either of you could say anything more, she turned on her heel and fled the cabin, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft thud.

Jason stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, his expression a mixture of regret and sadness. He sighed softly, turning back to you with a look of concern. “I didn’t mean for things to get that heated. I never wanted to hurt her.”

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle embrace. “She’ll be okay. She just needs time to process everything. It's not easy to get over a crush; I should know.”

Your attempt at a joke landed miserably, but to your relief, Jason let out a small chuckle, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a warmth that enveloped both of you.

“Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?” he asked, his voice soft and sincere.

“Oh, just like a thousand times,” you replied playfully. “But I also ask myself the same thing: how did I get so lucky as to find you, Jason Grace?”

Smiling up at him, you felt your cheeks heat up as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, gazing at you with quiet admiration. The world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you wrapped in this moment. “I don’t deserve you.” he said, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

You shook your head with a chuckle, determined to dispel his doubts. “You deserve all the good things, Jason.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with warmth and affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[daportalpractitioner]

the triple goddess in astrology

the triple goddess is represented by 3 archetypes in 1 to describe the multi-layered experience of the divine feminine. they are the maiden, the mother, and the crone.

the maiden: venus

the maiden is the archetype of the young woman who is grounded in her identity, her sexuality, her gifts, her desires, and her standards. she's confident in herself and what she wants, allowing her to cultivate meaningful connections that elevate her on this soul journey. she recognizes that this is her world and you are just living in it. the sign of your venus tells you how you are meant to embody this maiden innerG.

☾⋆｡ for example, a virgo venus is meant to embody her maiden energy through being of service to herself and others with integrity. this means that she doesn't let people take advantage of her and she doesn't do shit for people with manipulative intentions. she only allows what serves her highest good into her life, from what she eats to the environments that she takes space in, because when she focuses and allows only what serves her, she is also of service to The Most High.

the mother: moon

the mother is the archetype of the woman who gives birth to her creations + nurtures them so that they can grow to sustain life on their own. this is deeper than just having kids —this applies to all creations which once started off as a desire. she is an effective nurturer because she recognizes the importance of taking care of herself first. she uses her heart space to heal her wounds through compassion + forgiveness and in turn cultivates a loving community through the love that she fosters. her first home is herself and her life is a desired reflection of everything she already holds within her. the sign of your moon tells you how you are meant to embody your inner mother innerG.

☾⋆｡ for example, a capricorn moon is meant to embody their mother innerG by reconciling the energy connected to family trauma (especially their parental relationships) and not letting their childhood traumas + resentment bleed into the way that they care for themselves and others. she doesn't add unnecessary pressure to herself and shows grace to self + others. she leads by not being too hard on herself and those that look up to her and depend on her. she trusts herself to lean into her femininity + allows others to support her instead of always being the one that others are always relying on.

the crone: saturn

the crone archetype is the wise, older woman who is a pillar in the community, being able to provide support and insight for others due to the hardships + lessons that she experienced. people look up to her as an authority figure because she has the wisdom to guide others in the right direction. she isn't distracted by what's going on in the world + uses her time wisely because she's aware that she won't be here forever. she doesn't entertain bullshit and while others may call her mean, she stands firm on her boundaries. this is that grandmotherly innerG that is very supportive + protective of our highest good by holding us accountable. the sign of your saturn is meant to show you how to embody your inner crone.

☾⋆｡ for example, a cancer saturn is meant to embody their crone by holding herself emotionally accountable to cultivate healthy connections with others. she is aware of the "generational curses" that she has karmically acquired though the bloodline and doesn't play the blame game, recognizing that it is her duty to break those curses so that those same karmic patterns aren't played out in her connections and the family that she has/will create for herself one day. she is aware of the complexity of humans + their emotions and is able to teach + heal others through her own experiences with family + other loved ones that are or were once near and dear to the heart.

[witchofhimring]

Being the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen

Rhaenyra Targaryen x daughter reader (platonic)

Reader can either be read as the child of Laenor, Daemon, Criston Harwin or other

-As her only daughter you are especially cherished. The moment they place you on her chest she instantly, unconditionally loves you. While she does not have favorites, you are cherished.

It was with one last agonizing push that Rhaenyras only daughter came screaming into the world. "A daughter, your Grace!" With trembling arms Rhaenyra took her daughter from the midwife. Y/n Velarion's e/c eyes opened and Rhaenyra instantly fell in love. Secretly, she had always harbored hopes of having a girl. She knew the realm prayed for a son, but deep inside Rhaenyra yearned for a girl. A daughter to love and cherish and protect her from all that she herself had suffered.

-You are absolutely doted on my your mother. She makes sure you have the best of everything. She loves to order sweets brought from all over and give them to you in elaborately decorated boxes. She has you all decked out in red and black clothing. Rhaenyra likes to do your hair and make elaborate hairdos. Whether for a special occasion or any normal day she takes great pleasure in showing off how pretty you are!

Y/n squealed in delight as Rhaenyra pulled out a box. Knowing that it held some kind of delight behind its wooden covering you wasted no time in hastily opening it. Tiny hands seized the sugar covered fruits from Dorne. The mother giggled as with great enthusiasm Y/n chomped away at them. "Remember to share them with your brothers!" Rhaenyra called out to her daughters. "Gods I love her." Rhaenyra thought.

-Because of the political situation you are heavily guarded. Your friends/ladies in waiting are carefully picked amongst Rhaenyra's closest allies. From the time you are old enough to walk she hires a personal guard to follow wherever you go. This is especially true if Otto, Alicent or Criston Cole are near. Unlike with her sons I don't see Rhaenyra letting you near your uncles. Partly because it would be seen as inappropriate but also for safety sakes.

-Princess Rhaenyra, Princess of Dragonstone, eldest child of Viserys and heir to the throne, ran in great haste down the hall. She payed no heed to the sudden stairs of people. Most of the time she would care, but not now. Not when she noticed her brother Aemond speaking with her baby girl under the Weirwood tree. She did not know his intentions and frankly, did not care. None of Otto Hightowers grandchildren would be in any position to harm her daughter. "Y/n." Rhaenyra hurried down the path to see two children quite peacefully reading a book. Aemond was the first to look up and scowled. Rhaenyra didn't like it. Even something as innocent as this could insight trouble. Gods know Otto might even consider marrying the two if he could get away with it. A perfect way to tether the Princess of Westeros to himself forever. She would never let that happen.

-Obviously you will have a dragon from day one, if there isn't an egg already placed in the cradle. She will likely want you to have a new one rather than an older one. This is mainly because she worries an older one might be too aggressive and large for tiny you to manage. Of course she will take you for flight on Syrax, high in the sky. She uses these times to bond, even going on short daytrips for fun.

If she gives you an egg:

Rhaenyra cradles the large opaque egg in her hands. It was a good size, this dragon would be healthy. It was placed right beside the infant who was roused to the waking world. Her large e/c eyes focused on the egg with such intensity that Rhaenyra could hardly believe it. Her fingers brushed against the thin hairs that had just started to sprout up. Her little Targaryen.

If you claim your own dragon:

She would have preferred Dreamfyre. That dragon was so gentle and lovely, a perfect fir for her gentle daughter. Not fucking Tessarion. Anxiously Rhaenyra waited as Y/n advanced forward. The dragon keepers were on standby. But if Tessarion became volatile then......... The great dragon moved its head. The Valyrian coming out of Y/n's trembling mouth would barely be heard over the beasts rumbling. Horrified, Rhaenyra moved to intercede. But suddenly the dragon lowered its head and Y/n's hand placed itself on its snout. "Look mom! I'm a dragonrider!"

Riding a dragon with her daughter:

At five years old Y/n mounted a dragon for the first of many times. Rhaenyra had been hesitant. Normally Targaryen's took their children on a flight during babyhood. But in her anxiety Rhaenyra waited until her daughter was slightly older. She had a small harness made for the baby and herself. Part of Rhaenyra didn't want to stay on the ground, but Y/n was a Targaryen, a Valyrian ancestry going back thousands of years. The dragons wings expanded and in a great bounding leap Syrax was in the air. Y/n's small form was shaking and Rhaenyra wrapped an arm around her. They stabilized once above the clouds. Y/n finally had calmed down. Soon, she was giggling and enjoying the height. Rhaenyra smiled.

-When it comes to betrothals Rhaenyra will wait until you are grown before any of that comes to fruition. Like her father she will let you chose. That is, up until the events of episode 7 where Vaemond makes his bid for Driftmark. Even though she will not be aggressive about it, your attention will be directed to Cregan Stark. Of course you will get the talk, and what to expect during pregnancy/childbirth. Your also likely to get a new wardrobe. This is even more expected if where your moving to (think Winterfell and Dorne) has a drastic change in weather compared to Kingslanding/Driftmark. If you do end up married then she will make frequent visits to where you live.

Everyone bellow was mingling during the Red Keeps most recent party. Everyone except for Rhaenyra and Y/n. Mother and daughter observed the happenings bellow, talking in low voices. "Have you met anyone who appeals from you?" Rhaenyra closely watched her daughters expression. Y/n's eyes skimmed the handful of eligible bachelors that a Princess of the realm could take. "Hmmmm. Uncle Aemond is looking rather appealing these days." Y/n jested. Rhaenyra snorted. None of Otto's grandchildren would ever taken her daughter to wife. Only last week Alicent had requested a possible betrothal between their two children. As far as Rhaenyra was concerned, that would only happen over her dead body. "Who is that?" Rhaenyra's eyes lit up. Now this was a much better match. "That is Cregan Stark."

Extra

What is your fathers relationship with you (excluding non cannon father)

Harwin Strong:

Like with his sons he is very close with you. Your his only daughter and so he is very protective. He will hold you as a baby and try to be there for everything. First words, steps and your progression into adulthood. He likes to carry you on his back during his time off. Even though you are a girl you will likely be taught to fight if you so chose. Although that will be in secret. I think that as the daughter of Rhaenyra and Harwin you will feel like you all are a great big family.

Leanor Velarion:

Your his only biological child. Because of this the family dynamic will change, with Laenor being far more involved with his family.1* Rhaenyra and Rhaenys will push hard for him to be a good father, the best he can be. Its a rocky start. But he gets better and does his best. Your time together is usually one on one with Laenor. Stuff like taking you on dragonrides and going to Driftmark.

Criston Cole:

This one is a doozy because he can't be sure until you are older that your his (given that Rhaenyra's likely got involved with Harwin shortly after marriage). But once he finds out....wow. Because as much as he loathes Rhaenyra he can't bring himself to hate the daughter. He will, very subtly, try to ingratiate himself to you. This will be sneaky and behind Rhaenyra's back. Of course Alicent will get wind of this making Otto aware. He will absolutely try to use this to his advantage. This of course puts Criston in a very difficult position.

Daemon Targaryen:

This pregnancy takes place shortly before the marriage to Laenor, meaning Rhaenyra was pregnant although very early on. I have a feeling Daemon might not even know the baby is his, thinking it is Harwin Strong's. So he as nothing to do with you until the funeral of his second wife. It was there that Rhaenyra reveals he has another daughter. The reason he was not informed earlier is because she was worried someone might get ahold of the note and Daemon was in Pentos all this time. This revelation will be surprised. When your parents marry he will take an interest in your education. You are expected to be an example of pure Valyrian, perfecting Valyrian and being a dragon writer. The two of you will sometimes read together and he likes to tell stories of his adventures.

Note: I'm gonna make one for Alicent and maybe Aemond. If you guys want me to make any more of these then please feel free to requested☺

[bradshawsbitch]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎» ‎𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⁘ amongst salt water skin and silken sheets lies insecurities and innocence, but also tenderness and a willingness to learn...

› pairing; bradley bradshaw x f!reader

prompt; ❝  well,  honestly i’ve never really had sex before and was kinda hoping you would teach me.  ❞ and  ❝  don’t be nervous,  i’ll guide you through it.  ❞

word count; ~ 6.1K

× chapter warnings; loss of virginity, virginity as a normative concept, p in v sex, no use of y/n, smut, porn without plot, creampie, hair tugging, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption(?) if you squint maybe, rooster is a consent king

request; by @diorrfairy. I'm so sorry this took so long my love 🫶

disclaimer; I was rather torn with how I wanted this fic to go. on one hand I wanted it to be how I wished my first time was, yet I did not want to accidentally make it seem as if this is how a 'first time' is supposed to be, if that makes sense. I therefore tried to make it realistic in the way I experienced sex for the first time, but still making it softer, and sweeter, and the way I figure I'd want a first time with someone you love to be. for me sex hurt the first like five times but also my first bf was 6'5 and he was fucking huge so like yeehaw.

tagging people who might like; @roleycoleyland @roosterforme @lewmagoo @theharddeck @seresinsweetie @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts

Being with Bradley was easy. It was sunny, comfortable, and safe. The soft gaze of the aviator could turn your knees weak in a heartbeat. The way he touched you, the way he listened and understood you - and most of all, the way he never pushed you harder than needed to explore new things if you didn’t want to.

Previously, in all relationships you’d had - whether platonic or romantic, you found that people pushed you. Pushed you to participate in things you maybe weren’t entirely ready for, or didn’t wholly feel comfortable with. Like the first time you got drunk, even though you’d told your friends you’d rather just try one beer and then drink soda. 

Bradley, however, understood the need for you to feel comfortable and safe. He understood that you needed time to contemplate, to reflect, and to sort of turn and twist an event in your mind a few times before throwing yourself headfirst into it. 

So, when the two of you started getting serious, and you, with heat rising to your face, confessed that you ‘hadn’t done much’ in the sexual department, his amber gaze had softened. He’d smiled softly, cradled your cheek in one of his large palms, and placed a tender kiss upon your lips as he promised to take everything in the pace you deemed appropriate.

He wasn’t in a hurry, he’d said before enveloping you in his arms, letting you nuzzle your face into his chest and his safe embrace. Inhaling his scent and feeling his strong arms and hands holding you so delicately, you truly felt safe in his promise not to rush anything.

Bradley had not quite understood your timidness when telling him about not having too much experience. He figured maybe you’d fooled around a little in college with some boys or girls, but that you hadn’t had too many mind blowing sexual encounters. As beautiful and kind as you were, Rooster had a hard time imagining anything else. However, his mother had raised him to always respect a ladies wishes - however small or big that wish was, and he was nothing if not a caring soul himself. He always wanted you to feel safe with him, wanted you to feel you could confide in him, and lay worries and hardships for him to carry with you. 

Which was why he was perfectly content to spend lazy afternoons making out with you straddled on his lap, only sneaking in a squeeze of your ass sporadically - keeping his hands placed gently on your waist, only ever letting them grace slowly upwards to your ribcage and to the wire of your bra. The small little noises you made drove him wild, but he wouldn’t be the person to push you. No, Bradley was more than willing to wait until you asked him to touch you. 

However, as compassionate and patient a man as Bradley was - he was also a little insecure. He had never felt the way he did with you, and he was glad that you both seemed to be on the same page of slowly cherishing each other’s comfort. Felt secure in that this was something you both felt was something special.

Your relationship was not something that needed to be rushed, because both of you felt that this might be it. But one human can only take so many rejections before they start to wonder if it was something that they did wrong. Had he been pushy? Had he made you feel so uncomfortable that even after months of dating you didn’t want him? Or was it simply the fact that you didn’t find him attractive or arousing enough?

These thoughts swirled and tainted the most noble of intentions within Bradley. He so badly wanted you to feel the way he did about you, that it somewhat clouded his perception. Every sweet, bashful smile as you pulled away from him turned into a confirmation that there was something he was doing wrong.

Perhaps you were not a person who wanted what he wanted. He would be okay with that if that were the case, but as he pondered these possibilities in bed after a particularly nice day at the beach with you, he realized that the best way to go about it was to talk about it. 

He smiled as he reminisced on your walk, feet bare in the sand. His heart did double-time as he remembered the way your eyes sparkled, and the way you’d pulled on his hand to draw him into the water with you. Covered in sand and salt water, the two of you had spent the majority of the day in each other's arms (when you were not indulged in very serious bouts of splashing wars) before retreating to Bradley’s home. 

Which was how Bradley found himself perched on his bed after a nice shower to wash away the sand and salt, feeling content with the conclusion he had come to. The water was still running, as you were washing away the day as well, further fuelling Bradley’s thoughts. He was torn from them when you emerged, clad in a large, white, oversized silken button-up. It was rather old, and some of the buttons were missing. Your skin looked soft as it gleamed in the glow of the evening light. Looking at you, Bradley couldn’t help the soft smile that stretched across his lips as he raised his arms to signal he wanted you near. 

Mimicking his smile, you happily straddled his lap, making yourself comfortable before holding up a small container that Rooster hadn’t noticed before. 

“What’s that?” his voice was low, as if the energy of the room shouldn’t be disturbed by loud talking. Fingertips dipped into white cream, before gently ghosting across the skin of his face. 

“It’s to soothe the skin, baby,” you explained softly, massaging the cool cream onto Bradley’s warm face. He hummed in reply, letting his hands grasp your hips, running his thumb up and down over the soft silken material. His eyes fluttered shut as you carefully made sure that every surface of his skin was carefully covered, even going down to cover his throat and neck. 

“All done.” was whispered against his lips, punctured by the soft feel of your plush lips upon his. Your chest had fallen closer to his bare upper body, and the small container now found its resting place on his nightstand as your hands splayed on his pecs and shoulders. 

You deepened the kiss, your tongue curiously exploring and wetting Bradley’s lips before meeting his own tongue slowly. Bradley couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as you pressed closer to him, your tongue so languidly moving with his own, couldn’t help gripping  your hips just a little tighter at the small noises you were emitting whilst hesitantly rolling your hips against his grown hard-on. 

“Sweets…” Bradley rasped, breaking the kiss. Normally, you would look down and look bashful, but this time your lips traveled across his jaw, fluttering over his pulse point as you hummed in acknowledgement. As you reached a particularly sensitive point and nipped softly, Bradley let out a low moan, his hands moving up your waist before they skimmed back down to let them rest on the globes of your ass. Kneading and grasping he groaned again, not noticing the way you had stopped kissing his neck. 

Tensing ever so slightly, you sat up from your position, looking down as nerves fluttered restlessly in your stomach.

“Honey,” Bradley’s voice was soft “talk to me, please. Am I doing something wrong? Do I make you uncomfortable?” his fingers gently asked you to look him in the eye from their place at your chin. Blinking, a small crease formed between your brows. 

“N-no, never! I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with you.” the answer came to you easy, spilling truthfully from your lips as you looked into your boyfriend’s amber eyes. 

“Why do you ask that?” 

“I can feel how tense you are sometimes when we’re like this… you always pull away from me darlin’, and I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page, okay? You can tell me anything. If I’ve done something, or if you just don’t feel like ever doing anything– or if I’m not, y’know, doing enough to turn you on–” he was rambling. He knew he was and yet he couldn’t stop; his worries and anxieties coming out in a way he didn’t want them to. He was almost thankful when you cut him off.

“Bradley, do you think I don’t want to have sex with you because you don’t turn me on enough?” if you weren’t feeling nervous butterflies in your stomach at the aspect of actually feeling ready for taking this step with Bradley, you would have laughed. 

“I don’t know… Maybe? Mostly I’ve been worried that I have made you feel unsafe with me. Or that I’ve done something to make you feel as if you don’t want that part of our relationship like that,” it was Bradley’s turn to look bashful. Saying it out loud always made you realize how bizarre some of your thoughts could sound. 

“Honey…” you smiled, leaning into your boyfriend again “I– I just… you know I told you how I haven’t done much?” Bradley nodded. 

“Of course. I am in no way trying to rush you - I totally understand you may have had other experiences with sex before that makes this uncomfortable and–”

“No, Bradley.” you groaned “you don’t understand–” sighing, you paused for a moment. Maybe it would be better to spell it out. “well… honestly, I’ve never really had sex before–” 

Silence hung between two lovers, Bradley’s brows raising slightly in surprise, a feeling of deep guilt settling uncomfortably in his chest. 

“Honey… I am so sorry. I never meant– I mean, I figured you must have, you’re so out of this world beautiful…” Bradley looked at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “I’m sorry, my darling, I just wanted to know if there was something I had done - I will wait for as long as you need,” he straightened up to place his lips upon yours in a soft kiss. 

Shaking your head, you broke the kiss, smiling softly at him. 

“And– I was kinda hoping you would teach me,” you finished your interrupted sentence, letting your fingers sneak into the hair at the nape of Bradley’s neck, tugging and twirling strands of hair there to ease your nerves. Again, Bradley looked at you with such adoration and love that it nearly took your breath away. His hands were back to soothingly rubbing your sides and hips, the way he held you making you feel precious and secure. 

“Darling…” his voice was low but riddled with unspoken emotions, one of his hands moving to cradle your cheek “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want okay. I’m not going anywhere.” his assurance meant the world to you, but you’d felt ready for some time now. 

Mulling it over as you first noticed that when the two of you had ended up entangled in bed, or on the sofa, it didn’t make you feel as panicked as it had in the beginning. It felt exhilarating now. It felt like something you wanted. Something you desperately needed with Bradley. 

“I really want to.” your voice was firm in its choice, and Bradley sat up more from his position reclined against the headrest to be able to place his lips all over your throat. 

“I really want you…” Bradley murmured against your skin as his lips skimmed over the parts he knew had you the most breathless. It drew the tiniest of gasps, followed by a high pitched whimper from you the way he spoke so huskily, so close to your ear, his warm breath momentarily dizzying you. 

“Bradley…” you mewled softly “Please!” Bradley’s head was spinning from the sheer thought of loving you like this, but hearing your sweet plea made his breath hitch in his throat, his hard-on jolting slightly in his boxers at the words. Perhaps he should feel some type of embarrassment over that reaction, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so. Not when you were perched on his lap, clad in a loose fitting silken shirt, looking like the divines themselves. 

“You say stop and we do, okay?” Bradley searched your eyes, and you nodded, tucking your bottom lip between teeth as anticipation swirled through you. “Gotta hear you say it, honey,” Rooster smirked, reaching up to gently let his thumb draw out your bottom lip from between your teeth. That single act had your breath hitching as he let his thumb trace your lip. 

“I say stop and we stop.” you confirmed and Bradley smiled up at you 

“Good girl.” 

Blinking slowly, you took in the two soft spoken words that had drawn out the most sinful sound from your lips. “Oh, God,” you whispered softly, face heating up in embarrassment. Bradley gently shushed you, before letting his hand inch up your ribcage, his thumbs gracing the underside of your breasts. 

“It’s okay, little dove. It’s normal to react this way, alright? Nothing to be embarrassed about.” his voice was so soft, so soothing, that it made you keen even more, needing him closer to you. 

“You have no idea how much it turns me on to see you react to me like this…” Bradley wanted you to know that there was nothing shameful in the way you were reacting, and he desperately needed you to understand he never wanted you to suppress any sounds or feelings that might arise between the two of you. He wanted to see it all, hear it all, experience you and your love in its purest form. 

His hands wandered ever so slightly further up, gently letting his palm encompass the swell of your breasts in his hands, eyes flitting up to yours to see your reaction to the advancement. Letting out a stuttered breath, you let your head tip back at the sensation of his hands warming the silk against your skin.

As Rooster gently kneaded and pressed against your flesh, another breathy moan spilled from your parted lips. As he let his fingers gently pinch at your pebbled nipple, you cried out, suddenly feeling the need to move. You rocked hesitantly in Bradley’s lap, and another relieved whine left your lips as his hard-on rubbed against your damp underwear. 

“Fuck, honey… you’re so beautiful,” Bradley grunted out, trying to hold himself back and not grip your hips and grind you harder down on to him. He truly did believe you had never looked as beautiful as you were now, breath labored, skin glowing in the light that managed to flitter into the room, gently rocking against his lap. He whispered praises against your sternum as his hands slowly kneaded your sensitive flesh, his hot breath fanning over the exposed skin as the shoulder of your night shirt slid down your arm to reveal your breasts. 

Bradley took his time kissing and loving your chest, his large hands working up and down your sides, squeezing at your breasts before letting his tongue flutter over hardened nipples, teasing you as you let out soft, high pitched noises. Your brows were furrowed together, eyelids fluttered closed as you moved your hips down on him, panting slightly from the pleasure of his hard cock brushing your clothed clit every so often. 

“So pretty…” Bradley murmured before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, groaning at the feel of his lips wrapped around your flesh, relishing in the cry it drew from you, reeling at your body reacting by collapsing closer to him, a hand flying to grasp and tug at his hair. You were pulling him closer, and your movement was starting to become a little frazzled as you were overcome by the pleasure Bradley was giving you. 

“Brad–” you were gasping, almost clawing at the back of his head, not sure if you wanted to push him closer to your chest or tug him away. Squirming in your boyfriends’ lap you cried out again, whimpering softly over and over again as you felt his lips release the nipple he had been sucking on, moving to give the other some much needed attention. The cool air against your saliva slick skin had you mewling again. It was all so much, too much, it felt too good, it was dizzying and overwhelming, and Bradley’s hands were touching parts of you you didn’t know were sensitive and–

“Stop!” it was gasped, breathlessly as your eyes shot open, chest heaving before looking down at your boyfriends worried face. 

“Too much?” Bradley cooed, reaching up to let his fingertips grace your cheek. Nodding shyly, you leaned into his touch, face heating at the notion that you needed a break. 

“It– it was too good, I-I couldn’t…” you trailed off, not entirely sure why you had asked him to stop. There had been a pressure building and sparking in you, and it frightened you. The pleasure you felt when the two of you made out, when he touched you, it was tame in comparison. No one else had ever made that… pressure happen before. 

Bradley shushed you softly, licking his lips and smiling softly up at you “S’okay, darling… we’re not in a rush, are we? And if you decide that’s enough for tonight, then that’s alright too.” he assured you, thumbs rubbing against your waist. He couldn’t help that his eyes flickered momentarily to the glistening skin around your breasts, an unfamiliar feeling swirling deep in the pit of his chest at the sight of his saliva marking your skin. It almost made him groan with pleasure, seeing himself on you in any capacity. 

“No, I… I really want you. I truly feel ready, because I’ve been thinking of loving you like this for so long now…” you trailed off, again looking down at where your body sat on top of his, stomach flipping a little as you took in the sun kissed skin of his abs… and that dusting of hair that disappeared beneath his boxers. “I just feel a little nervous” you admitted in a whisper, not being able to help the fluttering nerves within your stomach.

“Don’t be nervous… I’ll guide you through it, sweet girl,” Bradley murmured, nudging his nose against yours before letting his lips slowly move with yours, taking his time to let his tongue taste yours, until your arms were once again wrapped around his neck. 

“That’s it… good girl, keep going,” Bradley whispered against your lips as you again hesitantly rolled your hips against him. Soft mewls left you at his words, and Bradley couldn’t help but smiling into the kiss, filing away every reaction to his actions for later. 

“Does that feel good?” he hummed as he gently gripped your hips, helping you find the right angle to let his cock catch at your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The silk of your panties was dark with your slick, and Bradley could soon feel it covering his own underwear too. 

“Yes,” you breathed out, letting your forehead press against his “it– feels funny,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as that pressure started to come back, even stronger now. Bradley hummed low in his throat, one hand making its way between your bodies to put more pressure where you needed it. 

“Bradley!” you gasped, body jolting slightly as his leaking cock head pressed harder against your sensitive clit. “It’s okay, baby… you’re alright, I’ve got you,” Bradley whispered as he kissed right below your ear, not stopping the slow but steady rocking of your hips. 

“I feel like I’m gonna– gonna–” your trembling voice was interrupted by your small gasps and soft moans, again taking your plush bottom lip between your teeth as the sensation grew stronger. 

“You’re doing so good, honey– don’t stop; just let go for me, baby,” it was as if you needed Bradley’s soft guidance and assurance, because as soon as he told you to, you could feel that pressure spiking, before it snapped and shot through your entire body. The pleasure coursed through your veins as you came with a loud cry, followed by small whimpers of Bradley’s name, burrowing your face in his neck as you whined softly and rolled your hips a couple of more times. 

“There you go… such a good girl… are you alright, doll?” he’s murmuring softly and sweetly against your neck, your pulse thudding hard and fast against his warm lips. Lips that have curved slightly upwards as you cling onto him, fingers gripping at his slightly flexed biceps. You nod against his shoulder, placing a languid chaste kiss to his exposed skin. 

“I’m– I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before” heat again spread across your face, and Bradley couldn’t help the way his chest filled with pride, and an unfamiliar emotion that stirred somewhere close to his abdomen. “Did so good, honey. Looked real beautiful for me,” Bradley smiled, gently holding your hair back from your face before pecking your lips. His hands roamed down your body, until his fingers played with the hem of your underwear. Snapping the elastic slightly, making you gasp, he chuckled softly.

“Can I take these off?” nodding, you felt anticipation roll inside you in stormy waves as the two of you moved your bodies so Bradley could take your underwear off. Bradley’s hands kneaded softly at your thighs as you settled back on his lap, his amber eyes searching your worried face. Licking your lips, you took in Bradley’s completely naked form. Sure, you’d seen naked men before, but nothing compared to the golden tan of Bradley’s skin - the ripple of his abs, the dusting of hair that traveled from below his navel to his pubic bone and– oh god. 

You of all people was aware of Bradley’s size. He was tall, muscular, slightly burly, and his strong embrace always made you feel safe - whether he was lifting you and dropping you into the ocean earlier today, or if he made a point of helping you reach something high up (even if you didn’t always need the help) - but you hadn’t really used your imagination to be able to conjure this. Resting, hard as a rock, against his stomach, you wondered silently how on earth he would fit in you. 

“Honey,” Bradley tried to keep from chuckling, smirking, or sounding too smug when he spoke “it’s alright. We’ll go as slow as needed, love. I’ve got you.” and you trusted your boyfriend, you truly did, but still - how? 

As a distraction, Bradley’s ever working hands had snuck upwards, the pads of his fingers now caressing your sensitive clit, drawing a soft mewl from your parted lips. “That’s it, relax,” he murmured in encouragement as his fingers gently rubbed at your core, letting his middle finger slip further and further into your heat. 

“Oh!” pitching forward, you rested your forehead against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder, moaning involuntarily at the feeling of Bradley pumping his finger in and out slowly, stretching and preparing you. It felt good, that one finger didn’t yet feel uncomfortable. It was when he added a second one that you whined a little and squirmed against him. His voice soothed you, and as he found a spot within you that had you gasping every time his fingers graced it, you found your hips slowly starting to rock against his rhythm to seek out more of the feeling.

“Bradley…” his name tumbled from your lips in a needy gasp as his lips attached themselves to the delicate skin of your neck. You could feel his hot, wet tongue glide over the skin, his teeth nipping slightly before letting his lips close over the area to gently mark your neck. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” his reply was murmured against your skin, his mustache scratching lightly above your pulse point. “Think I want–” you paused “think I want you now…” it was strange how the words rolled off your tongue, embarrassment filling you up slightly at the admission, even with Bradley’s fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. The soft groan that reverberated from your boyfriend's chest made you squeak slightly in surprise, your walls clenching around his fingers as the sound spurred on your arousal. 

“Alright,” Bradley withdrew from the crook of your neck, where he’d had his face nuzzled, to look you in the eyes, giving you a soft smile as his fingers too withdrew from within you. 

“Do you have any condoms, sweets?” he murmured, tilting his head upwards slightly to place a chaste kiss to your warm cheek. Shaking your head no, you placed a soft kiss to his warm lips, admitting to him that you had been on birth control for some years now. You momentarily worried he might ask why you’d bother with contraceptives if you were a virgin. You’d rather not go into detail about how it can regulate your cycle. He just smiled, eagerly chasing your lips for another kiss as his hands stroked up and down your waist - where your silken shirt had created a halo around your midsection. 

“Tell me again what we’d do if you said a certain word?” Bradley looked into your eyes, his brown ones calm and filled with a serenity you could easily get lost in, as his large hand gently held your chin. Licking your lips, you managed a small smile down at your lover as you sat straddled across his lap, his hard cock leaking precum all over that faint line of hair that drove you absolutely insane with want.

“I say stop and we stop.” 

“Good girl,” at your slight shiver at the deep timbre of his voice, your boyfriend couldn’t keep his smirk at bay, loving how well you responded to his praise. 

Large hands gripped your hips as you rose slightly to your knees, your own hands which had been alternating between gripping Roosters biceps, clinging onto his shoulders, or being wrapped around his neck, now fluttered hesitantly down his chest, over his abdominals and down to that tantalizing little trail… The sound Bradley let out sounded relieved yet also a little strained as you hesitantly let your fingertips grace the underside of his hard cock, following along the prominent vein that ran along it. 

“Should I—” you licked your lips, gaze flickering up momentarily to his “should I touch you, before we..?” Bradley smiled softly and shook his head no “I am embarrassingly close to coming just from seeing you like this honey… it’s alright,” a soft smile spread on your lips as you still let your fingers curiously feel around your boyfriends hard shaft, feeling the ridges and veins, surprised at the silky feel of the warm skin. Humming softly you settled on letting your hands rest upon his shoulders again as he again gripped your hips to guide you into a position he deemed appropriate. 

Bradley’s head was spinning as he positioned his cock against your entrance, gently dragging his swollen head between your slick folds, having to take shallow breaths as he heard your whimpers and mewls. He repeated this motion over and over, ghosting over your hole, alternating between stimulating your clit and the sensitive skin around your heat. Soon enough you were rutting against the underside of his cock, making him slicked with your arousal. 

“Fuck, you feel so good!” Bradley groaned as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, desperately trying to get more of him. “Bradley! Please, please,” you whined, biting down slightly on his skin, drawing a deep moan from his parted lips. He let the very tip of his cock slowly enter you before he withdrew again, sliding his cock up towards your clit again. You had gasped and moaned at the short sensation, and Bradley could tell you thought you could take all of him with the way you were bucking your hips, trying to sink down on him.

“Slow down, baby… I’ll get you there, okay? Can’t take all of me yet…” he murmured against your temple, letting his lips linger there for a moment before he again lowered you slightly onto his weeping cock, the very tip breaching your core. 

You were panting now, as Bradley stilled your hips on him, this time not withdrawing as he let himself dip slightly deeper into you. Eyes widening, you whined at the sharp sting of his girth stretching you. 

“Shh, honey, you’re alright, I’ve got you,” his calm voice grounded you and you nodded against his shoulder. Bradley had done his best to prepare you, and you were thoroughly wet for him - but still, as he gently lowered you deeper onto him, tears sprang from your eyes at the sharp sting of being stretched by him. 

“I’m sorry, love.” Bradley furrowed his brows as he gently guided you to look at him, wiping at the tears that had leaked from your lashes. “Do you want to stop?” he murmured, large palm soothingly stroking up and down your spine. 

Even though the sharp sting wasn’t exactly comfortable, the feeling of his warmth, and the feeling of being so full still made your insides vibrate with feelings of love and arousal - a feeling that felt rather paradoxical in relation to the sharp stings you felt whenever you moved. Ultimately you spoke a tiny no, leaning into Bradley, seeking his solace and his safe embrace. Whenever you felt vulnerable, or were hurting, you sought out his safety. 

“Being so brave, little dove… being my good girl,” Bradley cooed, letting his strong arm wrap around you, his other slowly moving downwards, gently letting the pad of his finger rest against your clit as he lowered you a few more inches, until finally you sat flush against him. Biting your lip, your fingertips dug into the skin of Roosters biceps hard as he shushed you and praised you even more, making your stomach flip and your heart stutter in your chest. You had no idea mere words could ignite such a fire within you. 

Speaking softly to you, whispering praise and words of love into your ear, Bradley slowly let his fingertips grace over your back, down your arms, over your thighs, your breasts.. as his thumb gently swiped over your nipple, you let out a needy moan. Gently pinching, he drew out another whimper from you, and your breathing seemed to pick up again as he rolled it between his fingers, his palm massaging and kneading your flesh. 

“S’that feel good, honey?” he smiled as you looked him in the eyes, biting your lip and nodding as you experimentally rolled your hips - scrunching your face up, you whined softly at the feeling of discomfort, which was soothed by Bradley’s quick, distracting hands. 

Letting your lips crash against his, Bradley groaned as he used both hands to knead and pinch at your tits and nipples as you rocked slowly on his cock. Gasping and whimpering, you tried lifting your hips and sinking down again, finding that if you did it ever so slightly, it didn’t sting as much and it actually felt good when the tip of his cock hit that little spot inside you. 

“Bradley!” you whimpered against his lips, his name slightly muffled. After the initial pain, you were reeling from the realization that your boyfriend’s cock was buried in your pussy, and he was letting you ride him slowly. Moaning, you leaned slightly back, taking in the sight before you. In your frenzy, you had messed up his hair, and his eyes were glossy with lust, lips slightly swollen. The setting sun was making his tan skin glow, and the freckles that had formed on his shoulders made him look all the more incredible to you. 

“Fuck, god, you’re so fuckin’ tight… feel fucking incredible, Jesus, baby… I love you,” Bradley’s eyes were rolling upwards as you rode him a little faster, his cock pulsing with every slight movement you made. 

“I love you,” you whispered, the words ghosting over his skin. Bradley let his hands wander from your tits down to the globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading your asscheeks as you moved up and down on his cock. 

“Can I take over a little, baby?” he murmured into your ear, licking your lips, you nodded quickly, feeling Bradley’s grip on your ass tighten as he lifted and grinded you down against him. A gasp was quickly followed by a loud moan as he angled your hips ever so slightly, making your clit catch on his pubic bone. He sped up slightly, guiding your hips so they rolled and bounced slightly in time with his small thrusts, the head of his cock brushing that spot again and again, making you whimper and keen over and over. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bradley grunted and groaned as he fucked you onto his leaking cock. He was so fucking close, you were gripping and clenching so hard around him, and he was sure he was going to blow his load soon. “Baby you feel so fucking good.. god, this tight little pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock, wasn’t it? Was made to be fucked by me,” Bradley grunted as he babbled, that feeling he felt earlier exploding in his chest at your needy mewls. 

Growling, he took your loud moans as his go ahead to go just a little faster, fuck you just a little deeper. His one forearm wrapped around the curve of your ass as the other snuck up between your shoulder-blades, where he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. A loud cry spilled from your lips as your eyes fluttered close, your body instantly relaxing and going almost limp in his hold as you moaned repeatedly. Growling, Bradley bucked his hips to fuck into you instead of lowering you down on him, and your needy cries made him almost black out with pleasure. 

Soon, he heard you gasping, moaning and crying his name over and over in pleasure. “That’s it honey, tell me who’s making you feel good.. who’s fucking this tight little pussy of yours so good,” his words made your eyes roll back into your head, and with a cry of his name you came for the second time, your slick creating a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked you through the first orgasm you’d ever experienced with someone inside you. 

Whimpering and mewling, the waves of pleasure didn’t stop coming, it just kept going as Bradley’s cock pumped fast and deep into your wet cunt. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, a wet sound that you found rather arousing, and your labored breaths and moans. 

“Babe, god I’m so close,” Bradley moaned, holding you tighter to his chest as he gasped, his cock and balls pulsing with the need to release. “Should I pull out?” he wasn’t all together sure he could. “No!” you whined, fingers tangling themselves in his hair. You’d never felt like this before. Your chest was swirling with the need to keep him close, keep him inside of you, you never wanted him to leave.

“Need you, Brad, need you!” you could barely form a full sentence, your words sounding more like whimpery babbles. At your pleas, Bradley grunted and groaned before he swore loudly, his hips bucking before his cock twitched and his release spurted deep within you. 

Feeling his warm seed spilling in you, your eyes rolled back slightly again as you moaned. Bradley’s whole body was shuddering as he ground you down against him, his balls tightening again and again as he released ropes upon ropes of his cum deep in your pussy. 

Sweaty bodies tangled together as you slumped forward against his heaving chest, your own breath labored and unsteady. Nuzzling into his pecs, you could hear and feel the way his heart beat hard inside his chest. “Love you,” you murmured, kissing at his sternum. Rooster’s large hand caressed the back of your head as you both came down from your highs. 

“Might hurt a little when I pull out…” he murmured against the top of your head, and you let out a dissatisfied whine whilst pouting. 

“Are you okay, honey?” he continued, and you smiled and nodded, feeling perfectly content as you laid in the safe arms of your lover, having just given him all of your love, and receiving all of him and his love back. 

AHHHHH fuck this one took forever to finish, and i'm not entirely happy with the ending - but i hope someone might enjoy it still<3 please let me know what you think! i'm always open for constructive crit <3

special thanks to coley and em for helping me through my writers block and cheering me on<3

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 9 | stanley pines x f!reader 

Summary: stanley has a restless night in April, and comes to a (not) shocking realization. a continuation of year 5, particularly concerning dreams

warnings (TW): swearing, slight-panic, some suggestive content

tags: mutual-pining, fluff, action, affection

notes: short but purposeful part pls listen to meeeee // side note so sorry everyone me is going thru v big girl problems w jobs and moving so apologies for the shortness but i did almost put just as much time into it as usual (typical im a perfectionist till i die) but ya again thanks for the love, support, the comments, like omg did i ever think id actually be kinda cool online? No i never thought that. All the follows?? The messages?? Like yall are too kind omgggg <333 much love to everyone though!!! Hope you enjoy, and again if you’d like to be tagged just comment :) 

word count: 3.8k

| masterlist | 

April, 1987

He had moved his clothes into her dresser drawers come February. 

Actually she did, while he slept in her clean sheets and tucked into her nest of blankets. He had quickly fallen ill after he turned from blue to red in their bathtub that late January day. Despite this, he did not stop shivering for a solid two days, during which his Doc’ rushed to and from his bedside with new washcloths for his burning foggy head and with soup to flush out the heat of his body. 

Well, it was actually her bedside. 

His Doc’ made quite the Doc’ though. He remembers flashes of being sick as a child, of having his mother creep in through his childhood room’s doorway to brush her long fingers across his forehead. She never crowded, but she always would linger in the hallway, waiting to be called upon, their landline propped in her hand. His wife was quite the opposite though, she rushed in through doorways, pushed into his space, and spoke in much more frantic cadences. She tried to soothe but he could tell bedside manner was a foreign thing to her, and he didn’t blame her for that. It was quite endearing, how worried she was for his wellbeing. 

He was under the fog of a fevor for several days, and bedbound for the rest of the week fighting exhaustion. It was odd to wake without her visage by his side. A book propped in her lap, her fingers twined into the sheets and worrying over the cotton fabric. She routinely cleaned the room also, moving from shadowed corner to shadowed corner, checking for god knows what. He’d wake to her sometimes, pacing the room in the dark. She was not well when he was unwell. Didn’t know how to compartmentalize him disappearing in front of her, worried about his waning sanity and lightheadedness. 

But it went away by the turn of the week, and when he woke again it was February, and his Doc’ had worn away in his absence. He quickly turned the treatment to her, worried about her hunched posture and weak wrists. Her bags were deeper than ever and her clothes wrinkled from her continued pulling at them. A stack of books by her bedside chair and his clothes in her dresser drawers. 

He took it with some unknown grace, taking care of her. Found it natural to shoo her to bed and scold her to lie under her own cotton sheets. Smiling and goofing with her as he tucked her in extra tight. He had less of a habit of lingering though, coming and going with ease, carrying her new books and magazines from the mail. She’d read until her eyes grew tired again, and he’d come by the next hour to find her reading material propped against the bedsheets and her head drooping to her chest. 

Food was harder though, he’d admit he knew a select few things to actually make. The majority of them being breakfast foods, fast and easy. He hadn’t had a stable kitchen to cook in for over a decade before all this. He would peer over her shoulder during dinner at times, helping her chop things and adding spices here and there. But he couldn’t recall anything in the face of his worry, so he fed her breakfast foods for a solid week. Something she laughed at heartily, taking her plate from his flushed embarrassed self. 

She was more herself, more present in the waking world come the second week of February. She had more pep in her step and a wider smile than he remembers. She was more quick to affection and giggling in his presence. More keen to spend nights watching movies in front of the T.V., more eager to arrange herself beside him on the couch. More frequently put her head on his shoulder, more often than not peering up at him. Periodically reached for him now with open palms. 

He had pushed off the thought. The faded memory of the tub felt like a lifetime ago. The piercing humid water, the yellow fog of the bathroom, and her head crested into his chest. The way he trembled when he reached for her, the caress of his fingers against the apple of her cheek. The way she looked then, looked at him like there was a promise of salvation in the warmth of his lips against her cheek. He remembers the depth of the declaration they shared, something no longer unspoken between them. 

Except he believed it to be a fading dream in the turn of February. 

Thought it may be one of his stuttering dreams of having her close, those dreams where he took her in the confidence of her bedroom. Dreams where he folded her body into his because it meant something. Something sickly sweet about the dreams of them across the kitchen table, of the way a gold band glinted on her ring finger when she reached for him. In those dreams, he had memories of washing her, sharing baths and kisses, and car rides with music and laughter. One’s where he leaned over the middle of the long bench and kissed her and didn't think about the swerving of the car or the heat of her gaze. In those dreams it meant something, he thought it meant something, that he was her’s. 

It aligned with many a daydream-turned-nightmare he had had. Nightmares where she left, took what little she could call her own and disappeared in the fleeting of the night. Nightmares of her crumpled body and shaking voice, a violence he didn’t understand. It’d shake him awake and have him stumbling from doorway to doorway. To make sure she was there before anything else. 

But now he didn’t have to grasp doorframes and splintered wood to see her in the dead of the night. Because they had not parted since that January day, that day he swore when he woke in February must be a twisted figment of his own imagination. Only now, awake in the dead of the night in April could he swallow the truth of it all.

Stanley was not a calculating man. He did not think in fragments and pieces, and he was not one to quantify things in small details so much he worried himself into a stupor. That was more her forte, something he’d pull her out of on the regular. He thought in long-terms and wishes and aspirations. He reached for dreams and planned his life in accordance with past grudges. There were no calculations in the assurance that he had said was he said, said she was his. A breadth of possession he only thought attainable in those dreams he searched for. 

It burned him sometimes, to catch her looking. Forsook the thought he ever believed her longing for him to be a distant relic in his subconscious mind. She looked at him now most days, a clear edge in her eyes. The ones he had seen in dreams, a heat he memorized long ago. Something he swore he saw long ago. Something familiar, her eyes reminding him of fleeting dreams turned memory, of kisses in their car over the dash. The same edging heat he remembers. Where he called her his own, the memory that he thought was a tortuous dream for a solid fifteen days. 

The only time he counts, between folded cards on a poker table and days between dreams and her. His aspirations had shifted in a mere 1,735 days. Four years and some change since he had that dream turned memory, of her crawling heat upon his lap. Her teeth sunk into the crook of his shoulder. 

A shoulder she dug into now. Her head nestled into the junction of his arm every night since February. Something unspoken about the way they lived in each other's space now. Something inconsequential and flippant about sharing their warmth. 

At times it was difficult sharing this space. He would usually find relief in their departure from each other some nights, those nights she’d make for her bedroom doorframe alone were a distant memory. She’d drag his frame to the edge of her bed now, her shirt pooled around her bare legs, a pleading look in her eye when she rolled the blankets back and invited him in. A reminder of a dream. 

Partially why he was even awake now in the dead of the Spring night. Her warmth was inviting and it had awoken something eager in him. He would usually find some sort of… physical relief in the deep dark of night when he'd lie alone in his own bed. But his new bed had an extra guest who just happened to be the possession of many of his desires. Normally he would check, crawling to the edge of his bed to peer at her silhouette across the hall, ensuring that she was asleep. It would be a weight off his lower back after he concluded in relieving his frustrations that had built up throughout the day. Usually followed by the all too typical sense of guilt. Because she had been there when he closed his eyes. The waking version of his dream, just asleep across the hall. 

An accumulation of dire frustration pooled now at the bottom of his spine. To be so close to her, so familiar with the curve of her body along his own, but to not possess her in a more intimate way was hard. Frustrating, even. He wanted possession of her on a deeper level, a proof of concept to the edging of his lips along her cheek and the declaration on his tongue. He drept of kissing her now in the waking world also. Of tangling his body closer to her own, taking her in the confidence of her bedroom. Of their bedroom. He wanted to share more spaces with her over dashboards and bathtubs now. 

But he didn’t know how. She had him fumbling in that foolish teenage boy kind of way, despite his climbing age. He’d regret the time spent fussing over the smaller details like she always does. He wasn’t used to working in fragments and fractions of thoughts.

She had already been so overcome with the memory of still water she refused to leave his side. Had spilled her guts in the porcelain of the tub in January. He didn’t know what possessed him now to stutter around the thought of her. It would come to a precipice soon, one day. The feeling would possess him and he’d declare himself something more to her, ask for the lie shared between them to become a reality. Ask her to marry him before ever having uttered what real husbands tell their wives. Big words that would stumble from his mouth, the closest he’s ever been to obsession, having her folded into his body. Her warmth made him gooey and his lips loose and in the dead of the night he thought he would say it to her there. 

That he loved her. 

September, 1987

The summer passed as it usually did. Scattered memories shared between them now of evenings on their porch and nights spent tipsy in front of the T.V.

They danced between each other now. Warm hands met in the dark of the setting sun on the back porch most days. Her head deep within the crook of his shoulder each evening when they’d converge in front of the T.V. Warmth shared between them in the dead of the night, blankets moving off the bed in the heat of the summer. He’d lean into it all now, too. Linger his lips along her forehead and laugh more readily in her presence. Their eyes would meet most days now, an amusement shared between them both in their hesitancy to break any tension. 

She was not keen to leave his presence in the slightest these days, either. She had trouble in doorways and dark hallways. Didn’t like turning over her shoulder line to look for him. Followed him into rooms and up the stairs now. She hadn’t let him disappear from her site since February, since she became so ill with her worry all she could do was skim books and wait for him to return in between consciousness.  

He did not shake her from this fear of hers. He walked away with some of his own. Remembering the cool seeping into his lungs, the choking of water in his throat. Remembering the height at which he emerged from the dark ice. The height he had fallen from the beasts’ maw had frightened him beyond reason, almost more than the dark of the water. The water was familiar to him at least, but the height at which his head cracked against the ice had him waking from falling dreams at times. He was sure if she hadn’t surged forward that day to embed the ax into the beast's neck he would have fallen from an even higher height. That he may have been dead. 

So he understood, her need for his visage to be within eyesight. Understood waking dreams and following him through doorways now. But dreams were dreams and they couldn't live in technicalities. She loved technicalities though, she thought in fragments and of far-off realities that would never be. She was imaginative in the worst way, in the worrying way. 

Which was why she looked oh so small in the passenger seat today, the looming elementary school sitting right behind her. School was starting, and she was going to be away all day. 

They had not separated in quite some time, even before the whole January turned February turned dream turned reality. They separated between walls and hallways, but usually, not even doors got between them. Doors felt like a trap to him even to this day, something she understood inherently. 

“Ya gotta go Doc’.” He hummed, reaching for her hand now. Something he didn’t hesitate to do, his palm faced up. 

She breathes, nodding. Her foot tapping away at the car floor, her bulging bag held to her front. She allowed him to reach for her, meeting him in the middle of the long bench. Her fingers cresting over and playing with his own. “I know, I know, I know.” 

She keeps nodding, her hand reaching for her chest again. Rubbing along her heart in a self-soothing way. She had been doing that all morning, since breakfast. 

He had pushed off opening the shack, wanting to drop her off that morning for her first day. She had been so eager when she found the application to be a teacher’s assistant tucked into the back of the newspaper’s classifieds late last year. She was set to help out in a crowded first-grade classroom that day. Something she had been so eager to do. Before she remembered the balm to her anxieties would be far from her reach. 

It had been hard, the thought of leaving him all day. She had laughed when she applied, thinking about how Stanley would pout at her across the kitchen table every morning during the school year. How he’d wait for her to come home, dreamed of him needing her. But in a weird twist of fate, it would be her, her watching the clock in the coming hours. Waiting for his figure to crest back over the horizon line, to greet her in the warmth of the car and joke with her all the way home. 

God, she would miss him. She hadn’t been parted from him since she burst through the shack’s front door. Since she wandered in through the doorway like a mad woman, taken by his image even then. 

It was even harder now, the thought of him disappearing in murky black water was the centerpiece of dark thoughts these days. The edge of all her anxieties since January. She didn’t want to part from him, because what if something happened to him in her absence? What if he went somewhere she could not follow?  

She knew the fear was misplaced. Knew Stanely would not disappear from her forever. He would go about his day much the same way he had all summer. He’d get dressed, put on his father’s hat, and give tours and swindle eager mothers all day. The tourists had flooded in out of town early this season, eager for the northern fall colors that would soon seep into the treeline around their home. 

Despite knowing this, her heart would not stop. Anxious about having him drive so far from her. Did he know? Know she needed his soothing presence? Know that the root of all her anxieties surrounded him most days now? 

He did of course, he read her mind in a greater capacity than ever in the last couple of years. Knew her tells from the change of her face and the grip of her hand. Knew her playing with his fingers was a distraction and her scrunched brow spoke of the restless night she had beside him. 

“Hey, look at me.” He takes her chin now, moving her head from the dash to him. His dark eyes were warm in the very early morning light. Kids would be here soon, flooding into the hallways, and she was supposed to be there to greet them. He knew she wanted this, so eager at the thought of teaching and helping. She had been planning activities and how to best introduce herself to six-year-olds for weeks now. She wanted this, but it came at the cost of splitting, splintering their shared connection for a day. 

“You can do this honey. I know you can.” He looks so sure at her, his head tilted and a smile creeping onto his face. “Do you know why I know that?” 

She hums. “Why?” 

“Because you’re smart.” He nods, continuing, despite her scoff. “And you’re good, and you’re patient, and you’re kind, and you’re warm.” 

She laughs. “Warm?” 

“Ya, warm. You got that face on ya’, kids will approach you at random I know it. Got that glow about you. You’re pretty like that.” His hand reaching now to brush some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

She heats up beside him, back suddenly straight. “Pretty?” 

“You heard me.” He laughs too, like he’s known it forever, thought it forever. Like he was recounting the morning newspaper comics to her. Like it amused him that she didn’t know. That he thought she was pretty. 

She breathes. That might just get her through the day. Maybe through the month. That and the hot streak along her cheek to her ear. His hand warm as he pulls her across the middle of the long bench. He bends her into him, practiced from a dream turned reality from a time before. Drags his lips along the apple of her cheek, his scruff rubs against her. His lips warm along her, a heated path from her cheek to her ear again as he whispers between them. 

“Pretty, angel.” 

It catches her breath now when he calls her that. He does it at the most opportune times now. “Honey” made her heart beat fast and her face flush, but “angel” made heat gather below her stomach. Resurfaced a dream from long ago of his weight above her and his lips so close to her jugular it makes her gasp at the memory of it. He only says it, angel, when they are close now. When she is tucked into his shoulder on the couch or in the early birdsong of morning, their arms and chests tangled together. 

It always makes her surge, makes her more alert. Made her think of far-off dreams of wedding bands and kids she swore were her own. That’s what she wanted to remember from those nightmares, at least. What she reached for in her current reality. She wasn’t used to working in dreams and long-gone wistful thinking though. But she’d try, try to be braver in the waking world. 

So she nods, breaking from his warmth. A beginning bell broke her from the trance of his eyes and the warmth of his big warm hands. He was still in his jeans and a rumpled t-shirt, hair a mess on the crown of his head. She hoped he’d stay the same when he returned. That he’d look just like this to her. 

She sighs, reaching for her bag, shuffling papers deep into the overflowing open zipper at the top. She turns back to him, reaching for his hand now, palm warm against him as she brings his hand to her lips unthinking. Holding his hand close to her face, cupping it, cradling her face in its warmth. 

“Goodbye, Mr. Pines.” 

He laughs, but she doesn’t miss the rise of redness to the tips of his large ears.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Pines.” 

She reaches for her door, opening it herself for the first time since meeting him. He yells, “Wait!” Rushing from his seat and the idling parked car to run along the front of the car, reaching and opening her door for her. A funny flourish to his hand, and a fake bow as she folds and steps out of the car. 

He closes the door promptly, outstretching his arms to actually encase her, to actually say goodbye to her now. Her hands along the expanse of his back, fingers crooked into the collar of his shirt. He sighs again, letting go of the warmth between them. His head still tucked forward, his lips greeting the curve of her hairline. Whispering along her head, “Goodbye for now.” 

She sighs again, shoulders slumped and bag hefty along her back. “Goodbye for now.” 

It’s the hardest thing, to turn from him. But the rush of children now seeping into the school reminds her she’s at least five minutes late for her very first day. For her very first actual job since working alongside Stanford. It makes the doubt turn in her veins, only reassured by the shadow of him behind her. 

And when she turns there, searching over her shoulder line he’s still there, leaning against the car, like he had been waiting for her to turn again.  Firm and whole and handsome and hers entirely. Reminds her of a faint dream when he waves again, a glint she swore was on his finger. A golden band she remembers and a promise he swore of never leaving her again, not like that.

She thinks to say it then, entirely loud and brief between their distances. Thinks of phrases whispered close to her ears and folded into her arms. A familiarity in the sentiment, but entirely foreign on her tongue. Something unspoken between syllables she cannot voice now, standing at the entrance to the small school. Taken by his image, has words almost stumbling out of her mouth like a mad woman. 

She thinks to tell him then and there, that she loves him. 

[la2yn0va]

Reader as the Aeons “Mother”

HEAVILY inspired by: @deathcvltcivilofficial

CW: yandere….? I think….?

——

Aha: The prankster middle child. They do pranks to gain your attention, weather it’s you scolding them or laughing along side them. They’d do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING to keep your eyes on THEM.

Akivili: A responsible child, who tries to keep things orderly yet also fun. They try to parent AHA when they’re about to pull a prank that miiiiiiiight tip you over the edge of your patience and sanity.

Ena: “YOU ATE YOUR FUCKING SIBLING!!!?” you yelled in anger at Xipe, who stared with a nervous smile and nervously sweating “N-nooooo……~ Ehe…..”

Fuli: Another responsible child. Similar to Akivili, tried to keep things calm and peaceful, yet is often told off and ignored. Doesn’t care though, as long as they’re on your good side.

HooH: The most responsible and the oldest child. The aeons listen to him the most whenever your away. He keeps things balanced, allows Aha to continue their pranks but not to a major extent.

IX: The most nervous and anxious one. Needs your attention on them at all times or else they’ll believe you hate them. They’d also listen to your word like law—as do all the aeons—but they do it to a EXTREME EXTENT.

Idrilia: Ever so slightly snobby, as they LOVE to flaunt their beauty, Claiming themselves the favorite as you gave THEM the most beautiful appearance and personality. Besides being slightly egotistical and prideful, they’re one of the kindest and gentle aeons, just don’t try to claim yourself as THEYRE gods Favorite. That title rightfully belongs to THEM.

LAN: The second youngest and responsible child. Will only try to kill Yaoshi 60 times a week only because you want them to get along, which will never happen. Any type of blasphemy that dares to taint your name is instantly struck down by their arrows.

Long: Your pet dragon. Always wraps itself around your neck as a scarf so they can cool you down or nuzzle up to you. Has fights with Idirlia on them declaring themselves as ‘the favorite’ when it’s clearly THEMSELVES.

Mythus: Fuli’s creation. They taught mythus to respect you the most and that they must stay responsible and never lose their sight on their goal. So, when the Droidhead (Nous) was starting to annoy them, they made it their mission to Fuck with it. Mythus only holds respect towards you and Fuli, and is the grandchild that loves their grandparent more then their parent.

Nanook: Another attention seeker of yours. Doesn’t matter what kind of attention you give THEM, they love it no matter what. Gets into ‘competitions’ fights with Aha for your attention and has to get held back by Qlipoth from going overboard. Also they’re most definitely the most problematic and rebellious.

Nous: A snobbish dick. Doesn’t care enough to prove itself as your favorite, because it’s obvious that you DO favor them. Let the dragon and idiotic beauty creature battle their meaningless battles, such battles isn’t logical to take part in when they know they’re the best.

Oroboros: A prankster, but not to the extent of aha. Pulls simple pranks like the water bucket ontop of a door, eating the fridge whole…. Ya know. The basics. They’re the most silent yet also more verbal in their attraction towards you, nuzzling up to your body and trying to lick your divine skin, only to get slapped away by your little dragon (I just realized how wrong this sounded)

Qlipoth: Another responsible child. His determination to keep things simple for you always preserves, they look to HooH for guide on how to keep things moving perfectly for you. (see what I did there? 😃….😀…. Fuck yall too, lame ass cu—)

Tayzzyronth: A child who spreads his creations around to ‘spread your grace’ yet fails miserably. They’re a ‘boy failure’ who propagates a shit ton to be successful and worthy of your praise/attention, only to fail.

Terminus: The youngest child, only ever shows itself to you. Hates the other aeons and spread’s prophecies to better the universe in a way they KNOW you’ll be proud of.

Xipe: Your still mad at her for absorbing their sibling, but she tries to make it up. Despite absorbing her sibling, they also try to keep things harmonious (Ahhh? Ahhhh?! 😃….okay I’ll stop)

Yaoshi: A suck up. The ultimate suck up. She sings your praises a healthy 1 sextillion second a day. All shrines that are made for you was likely ‘commissioned’ by her. She’s your maid, whatever you want she’ll spend her life making sure you get it. Also drags IX with her when she’s doing it. When she’s not away from you she uses her multiple hands to massage your body and get touchy with you.

[reidingandwriting]

Like A Prayer > w.w. & l.h

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: Deadclaws x Reader

Warnings/Contains: Cursing, Wade having chronic pain, a little anxiety all around, and the last bit. Is pure sex tbh. We’ve got a 4 + 1 fic baby, and that plus one,,, they’re just fucking tbh.

A/N: So sorry this took ages 🧍🏻‍♀️ I’m not 100% happy with the smut at the end of the chapter But!! more smut is coming, potentially featuring sub!Logan 👀😗

Previous chapter

i.

It didn’t come as a surprise to you that Wade dealt with chronic pain. Most days it was manageable, he told you. Just a little annoying, like a new pair of shoes that squeaked when you walked. Except the shoes never got broken in and the squeaking never went away. His pain never fully went away either, his metabolism too high for any pain meds to work.

All this to say, him being in pain was just a fact of life. He was Deadpool. He had somehow by the grace of every god out there bagged not one, but two partners- one of them being the fucking Wolverine- who could tolerate his shit and even match it. He was also in pain every waking moment. Facts. But like he said, it was usually manageable.

Today was different. He knew last night it would be; your heater had crapped out last night and it would get fixed today, even if you had to go full Karen. But that didn’t help Wade now. The early morning chill seeped into his bones, muscles contracted, aching with every breath. Definitely didn’t help that he’d had a long night of Deadpooling last night.

Wade blindly reached out, feeling for the living heater known as Logan, but whined when he was greeted with a cold side of the bed. He must be out already.

“Wade? Wha’s wrong?” Your voice was thick with sleep, speech slurring slightly as you sat up.

“Just cold. And feel like my body is made of lead, fuck.” Wade groaned and you frowned.

“Do you feel up to walking? I can run a warm bath and I’ve got some epsom salts.” Walking was the last thing on Wade’s mind, but you wanted to help him. Wade could see the way you were fidgeting, your urge to take care of him taking over. Always such a mother hen. And a warm soak would probably do some good.

“That sounds perfect, thank you.” And with the smile you gave him in response, how could he say no to you?

It took him an embarrassingly long time to get to the bathroom and he was irritated with himself, but you were still so gentle with him. More patient than he deserved. You let him struggle a little to undress, which his pride appreciated. As much as he loved being babied, as much as you loved babying him, you seemed to know when he needed to do things himself. Even if it was impractical, even though your hands kept twitching, ready to jump into action and help him. You talked about some baking show you started watching last week with Logan as you ran the bath to fill the silence and Wade appreciated the distraction.

Once you were happy with your work, you helped Wade into the bathtub and you couldn’t help but smile at the content sigh that left him. Wade’s eyes slipped closed, the warmth enveloping his body, and you sat beside him, forearm dipped in the water as you held his hand.

By the time Wade was ready to leave the bath, you gave him a little space to get dressed again. Only after assuring he’d be okay by himself. You mentioned having some surprise for him in the living room you needed to set up and Wade’s curiosity won out. Besides, he did feel better after his soak.

Minutes later, he heard commotion as he exited the bathroom and the sight in front of him had him floored. The couch was covered in blankets and had been dragged up a few feet. You were on the floor, finishing up building… what was that? Wade cleared his throat and you jumped.

“Shit, you scared me! Sorry, I’m just finishing setting this up. Go on and get comfy.”

“Whatcha got there, cupcake?” Wade asked but obliged. He walked over to the couch and wrapped the cozy navy blanket around him before taking a seat. “Switching from bartending to a construction career?”

“Never. Those blue collar boys work too early for me. Much prefer my late nights and our lazy mornings. This is an electric fireplace. Can be used for ambience but also lets off a fair amount of heat, according to reviews. Apparently it could be tomorrow before our heat is fixed, and it’s been killing me watching you miserable, baby.” Wade’s heart skipped a beat at the still new pet name.

“You, you bought this for me?” Wade willed his voice to stay steady but he must have failed given the look you gave him when you looked up at him.

“Of course I did.” You sounded confused, pausing for a moment before it dawned on you. “Wade… you know I love you, right?” Wade nodded, his eyes beginning to water. “This is your home. You deserve to be comfortable and if I can do anything to help you out, I’m gonna do it.” The fireplace clicked on and almost immediately, Wade could feel the heat blowing towards the couch. His whole body felt warm, and it wasn’t from the fireplace or the blankets.

“What holy being did I deliver the fucking of a lifetime to in order to deserve you?” Wade asked. You took a seat on the couch, laying back against one of the arms and gestured for him to join you. Wade positioned himself in between your stretched out legs, his back against your chest as you both laid out.

You massaged his shoulders, pressing gentle kisses wherever you could reach as Wade turned to putty in your hands until his breathing slowed, his chest eventually rising and falling in his familiar sleeping pattern. A mid day nap never hurt anyone, you reasoned as your own eyes closed.

ii.

Logan liked watching you and Wade. No one was on the same level as him- his energy and his ability to blabber on and on unmatched- but you never seemed to have trouble keeping up. It was nice, seeing someone who could match Wade’s energy. Even on days you weren’t as hyper, you were attentive. Even during his ten millionth time rambling about the last episode of whatever trashy reality show you were watching, you listened to him intently, as if he was explaining how the inner workings of the universe.

That was one thing that took Logan a while to get used to. How attentive you were. How dedicated to the both of them you were. It was easier to watch it with you and Wade. Easy to watch Wade open and close his hand, his tell he was looking for something, the words escaping him as he asked for “the… the… FUCK you know what I’m talking about, the thingy!” and somehow, you always found the right thing. On the days Wade cooked- a rare occurrence, but he did make a delicious breakfast- you sat on the counter, ready to assist. You wore one of Wade’s shirts, one of the My Little Pony characters on the front- Pinkie Pie, Logan thought?

You and Wade were deep in conversation, your legs swinging lightly as your hands moved in the air, your words getting faster as you got more excited. Logan sat at the dining table, mug of coffee steaming in his hand and he felt your gaze land on him. How long had he been staring?

“Having a senior moment, peanut?” Wade asked and you scowled, lightly kicking at the side of Wade’s leg.

“Be nice, gremlin.” Wade maturely stuck his tongue out at you and you rolled your eyes, fondness evident in your smile, before you looked back at Logan. “You okay, bub?” Logan’s heart felt like it stopped working briefly, loving when you used his pet name for you and Wade back at him. He was not gonna read too deeply into what exactly that said about him, but it filled him with a warm, pleasant feeling.

“‘m okay. Just don’t know how you two wake up with so much energy.” Wade must have opened his mouth and you swatted his arm, causing Wade to laugh.

“It’s a curse and a blessing,” you said solemnly, the corners of your lips twitching in amusement when Logan chuckled.

“Alright, honey bears, breakfast is done. And I believe the apron does say kiss the cook, and who am I to disrespect the ancient art of a Homegoods apron?” You grabbed Wade by the frilly sides of the apron, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. Wade’s eyes opened comically wide before he melted into your touch, quite literally melting as he gripped the counter for support.

You giggled at the dazed expression on his face, making grabby hands at Logan. Logan rolled his eyes, a fondness in the motion as he walked over and pressed his lips against Wade’s. It was softer than your kiss, but passionate all the same. Logan’s hand cupped the back of Wade’s neck, holding him in place for a moment before pulling away. Wade honest to god whined, stomping his feet a few times. “Fuck, why are both of you so god damn hot?”

The three of you ate breakfast, talking happily. You had a night off and you were looking forward to a rare quiet moment with Logan. You didn’t get to have much one-on-one time with him due to your opposite schedules, unlike Wade. You loved your lazy mornings with Wade, getting to dote on him and loving all the attention he gave you.

The day went by smoothly. You had recently gotten Animal Crossing (a much calmer game after the last Mario Kart fiasco) and you all played together for a bit. You ordered lunch, none of you feeling up to cooking at the moment, and you continued watching Hell’s Kitchen. Logan fixed a hole in the wall from the Mario Kart incident, you did the dishes from breakfast and Wade folded the laundry. It was sickeningly domestic and you loved every minute of it.

After you cooked dinner and the men bickered while on dish duty, Wade pouted as he stood by the door, mask still in hand. You were on your third ‘one last kiss’ and you gave Wade an unimpressed look when you felt his hands squeeze your ass.

“It’s my good luck charm!” Wade whined and you rolled your eyes, yet pressed one more kiss to his lips. “Gonna let me cop a feel, peanut?” Wade smirked at Logan. Logan walked over, cupping Wade’s jaw in his hand before kissing him goodbye.

“Don’t let your mouth get you in trouble, bub.” Wade groaned, letting his head thud against the door before he finally had the strength to leave.

“No R rated activities without me! Miss you already.” Wade blew kisses to you and Logan both once his mask was on and the door shut behind him with a soft click. A few beats of silence passed before you turned to Logan.

“Mario Kart?”

“Let’s fucking go.” Logan grinned, a little feral and you couldn’t help but match it. Let’s fucking go.

“You cheater! You skewered Wade for cheating last time but you’re the cheater!” You swatted Logan’s chest, him shaking from laughter, and you tossed the controller aside. “Get out of my house.”

“Bub, don’t be a sore loser,” Logan said through laughter as he pulled you into his lap, pressing a few gentle kisses to your cheeks. “I was tactful.”

“You know I’m distracted by shiny things and you whipped your claws out.” You huffed and Logan chuckled, a deep sound in his chest. “Mean.”

“Yeah, ‘m the worst.” You turned to bury your face in his neck, a satisfied smile on your lips.

“Glad we agree. I think I get date night input for that one,” you said and Logan wrapped his arms around your waist, settling his hands on your thighs.

“Sounds like a plan.” Later that night, the two of you sat on a blanket, in some grassy area away from town. A can of beer in each of your hands, you tucked into his side as you looked up at the sky.

“It’s nice to see some stars for once. I know we can see some at home, but there’s so many more out here. Can actually see a few constellations.” Logan listened as you pointed out a few, occasionally sparing you a glance as you pointed at the sky. “You’re staring,” you said after a minute, looking up at him.

“You’re beautiful,” Logan said simply and you swore there was a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. “And you’re too fuckin’ good for me. Always… always treat me so gentle. Always giving me what I don’t even realize I need.” And you did. You managed to match the energy of whoever you were with- a little crazy with Wade, but quieter with Logan. Passionate all the same, but you focused on actions with Logan over your words. Your words were deliberate with him, and your actions always solidified them. He was good, you said with a kiss to his forehead. You’re more than what they made you, you whispered as you curled into him at bedtime.

“You deserve it.” You sounded so sure, like it was an objective fact and not just your opinion. Being around you and Wade had helped with how he viewed himself, however you don’t easily erase two hundred plus years of self loathing and self deprecation. You sure took it as a challenge, though.

Logan felt his eyes burn with unshed tears and he kissed the side of your head, his lips lingering. You sat outside for a while longer until the cold started to get to you, and Logan shed his jacket, wrapping it around you before you started to head home. Music played faintly over the car radio and the quiet between you two was peaceful. He was your solace, and you were his.

iii.

You had been running around the house for hours now. This was the first big get together for Wade and Logan’s friends and you felt sick to your stomach. What if they all hated you? Wade and Logan had both tried to tell you everything would be okay, but you honest to god growled at them and both men blinked in shock as they watched you walk away.

“That’s your fault, your rabies infected her.” The claws in his side were worth it, until they heard you yell.

“If you get bloodstains on my floor, you’re both on the couch for a week!” They hurried off, Wade going to change clothes and Logan getting paper towels.

In the midst of all your prepping, you didn’t realize Wade and Logan were worried for you to meet their friends. Worried they’d combine and be too much, a subconscious whisper of concern over how their mutations would come across. The rational parts of their brains knew they had nothing to worry about- you chose to be with Wade and Logan and they definitely weren’t a walk in the park. Yet still, they worried.

Turns out none of you needed to worry because within ten minutes of everyone arriving, everything was in smooth sailing. Laura, Yukio, and Ellie had quickly pulled you into their group. Soon, the living room was full of talking and laughter, like it was a reunion of lifelong friends instead of several different new friend groups mashed together.

Logan sensed your mood shift- a subtle thing, but he couldn’t help but look at you, worried. Logan excused himself from his conversation with Elektra, walking over to you. “Can I steal you for a minute?”

“Gross, go kiss on your own time.” Laura huffed, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Brat.” Logan gently butted the heel of his palm against Laura’s head, chuckling as he took you to the privacy of your room. “Everythin’ okay, bub?”

You nodded but your eyes welled up with tears all the same, and within seconds, Logan pulled you into his chest and your shoulders shook as you silently cried.

“See, you’re saying you’re okay, but your crying has me thinkin’ otherwise.” You let out a wet laugh at his reply and you looked up at him.

“I’m so happy,” you sobbed and Logan brushed your hair back. “I’ve never… never really had a family before. Yeah, I had my parents but they were absent more often than not and then I was still just a kid when they left. I’ve lived in this house for years all by myself, then I made Wade. Then you came along, and everyone out there. I’ve always wanted this and now I finally have it.” Oh, and if that didn’t make Logan’s heart shatter for you.

A soft knock at the door interrupted and Logan looked over to see Wade walking in. “Heard someone was hogging my favorite human and- oh, honey.” Wade cooed when he saw your face. “Happy or sad tears?”

“So happy,” you whispered, opening your arm for Wade to join you. Wade quickly situated himself with the two of you and Wade pressed a kiss to the top of your head. The three of you stood together for a little longer as you pulled yourself together and you eventually pried yourself free. “Do I look like I just sobbed my eyes out?”

“So much,” Wade teased and you scowled up at him. Wade wiped under your eyes with his thumb before kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose, then lips. “You look beautiful. Hiding it very well.”

“Let’s go back. Shitty hosts we are, huh?”

The rest of the night went smoothly, all things considered. Somehow you managed to cook enough for there to be leftovers, and everyone settled in the living room as they ate and talked. You had been pulled into Wade’s lap in your search for a spot to sit and your free hand traced over Logan’s.

“How is your sanity in tact with these two?” Ellie asked and you heard the teasing tone to her words, but instinctively, you felt a surge of protectiveness crash over you at her lighthearted jab. Logan nudged your hand with his own and you took a long, slow breath.

“It’s easy,” you said with a shrug. “They’re family. Never had one of those before, but I feel like the luckiest person in the universe to be able to love them and be loved by them. They’re pains in the ass, but they’re my pains in the ass.”

“Oh, cupcake, that is the sweetest thing you could ever say about me,” Wade wailed dramatically, covering your cheek in kisses. And that was that. Neither Wade or Logan left your side for the rest of the night, even after the guests left. You stayed on the couch for a while, basking in the love you felt from your family. Family. What a wild concept that was.

iv.

Date night. An odd concept to Wade and Logan, but neither had the heart to shut you down with how excited you were.

You knew the basics of Logan’s past- he wasn’t a date night kind of guy. He had a long history of casual partners, but his relationship experience was… limited to say the least. Pairing that with his introverted nature and general dislike of being around people, he hadn’t been on many dates. None that he could remember.

And then there was Wade. Wade had dated once before, but since that ended… since he looked the way that he did, he kept his outside time limited to Deadpool time. If he braved the real world without his mask, it was typically at Sister Margaret’s or the occasional slow night at your bar. He may sound vain, but he was fairly attractive before his… transformation. You and Logan looked past his appearance, you frequently complimenting him and Logan giving him compliments every now and then that genuinely made him blue screen. But his insecurities ran further than surface level, and outside of the safety of his partners and his friend group, he felt uncomfortable showing his face. Even with his guard dogs, he could feel every double take or stare.

So when you mentioned a date, both men were apprehensive. But you promised you’d find something that would meet their comfort levels and if at any point anyone felt uncomfortable, you’d leave. End of, point blank. No questions asked. Hesitantly, they agreed and the pure excitement that lit up your expression- mixed with a bit of hope- made *some* of their worries melt away.

You were secretive about most of the planning, wanting to keep an element of surprise to the date. All you told them was you’d have privacy and they just needed to dress comfortably. The days passed and the time of your date approached, and Wade couldn’t help but feel a little sick to his stomach. Logan expressed his anxieties differently than Wade, him channeling his nerves with projects outside. Your small lawn had never looked better and your back porch had turned into a screened in porch, something you had nearly cried over from the joy you felt. Wade busied himself with his ‘housewife’ duties, laundry and tidying.

The night finally came and you had situated yourself in the drivers seat of a SUV you rented. No matter how much Wade pestered you, you didn’t relent and tell him why you had rented the vehicle when you had a perfectly fine car. You had been driving for a little while, out of the city, past the suburbs, until the flux of neighborhood lights had turned into stars littering the sky. Logan sniffed, getting a hint of food stored in the back of the vehicle and he jumped when you poked his side.

“Quit trying to spoil it!” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him, a lightness to your tone he hadn’t heard in a while. You were excited, like a kid in a toy store, and he felt his own smile grow as he looked at you. Wade leaned over the center console, whining.

“I feel so neglected back here! I still think I could sit in your lap, peanut.” Wade huffed and Logan rolled his eyes as Wade draped himself over Logan’s shoulder.

“Codependent.” Logan scoffed but made no effort to move him.

“And what about it?” Wade nudged his nose against Logan’s cheek and you smiled, watching the two of them out of your peripheral.

“Alright, I think we’re here!” You pulled into the empty grassy field, driving down the dirt path.

“Sweetness, lovingly, where the hell is here?” Wade asked. “Because it looks a little run down.”

“Patience, ye of little faith. You’ll see.” You drove further down the path and moments later, the drive in theater made itself known. There were a few other cars but it was mostly empty tonight, something you were happy to see. “It’s not as extravagant as I wanted,” you started as you parked the car. “But I figured it would be a good start to going out in public. Still private enough, but a step forward.” You didn’t meet either of their gazes, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “Is, um, is it okay?”

Logan moved first, unbuckling you and pulling you into his lap. He hugged you close and you curled into his chest, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You did great, cupcake.” Wade climbed across the console, awkwardly positioning himself to join the hug. “It’s perfect.” You quickly kissed Logan, then Wade, then clapped your hands lightly. “Let’s get set up.”

You got to work. You laid the back seats down then propped all the pillows up and laid out all the blankets. Wade got the radio set up while Logan helped you set the food up. You had packed some sandwiches, some other little snacks you knew everyone liked, and you made a popcorn run- ignoring Wade’s teasing ‘I thought dogs couldn’t eat corn’ directed at Logan and the playful growl that followed.

You piled into the back of the SUV, you taking your spot in the middle of the blanket pile you made. It was a bit of a tight fit, but the three of you curled together anyways, watching the (kind of shitty to be honest) horror movie that played. You spent the time together making comments about the movie, laughing and quietly talking for the duration of the movie. It felt nice to be out of the house, but normal at the same time. By the end of the double feature, you were half asleep as you looked up at Logan through your lashes.

Logan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, a shaky breath escaping him. “This is the most effort anyone has ever put in for me. ‘ppreciate it and you so much.”

“Happy to do it. Love you both so much.” You buried your face in Logan’s chest, missing the look he and Wade exchanged.

“We love you too.”

+1

You were going to die. You were certain of it. Between the two of them, you were going to die and be revived- just to die again. But fuck, there was no better way to go. Sitting in Wade’s lap, only the thin layers of your underwear separating you, kissing him while Logan sat behind you. Kissing down your neck and hands roaming your body as if trying to memorize every detail about you.

You whined as you rutted against Wade’s lap, a broken sound as Logan’s thumbs brushed over your nipples. You arched into his touch, wanting- no, needing- more.

“Fuck, enough fucking foreplay. Fuck me,” you huffed and Logan’s deep chuckle followed.

“Impatient, aren’t ya, needy girl?” Logan’s breath fanned against your neck, causing your skin to erupt in chills. “I think we’re just getting started. Aren’t we, Mouth?” Logan looked up at Wade, a feral gleam in his eyes. Wade’s own eyes darkened, a strangled groan leaving his mouth.

“Fuck, Wolvie. Alright, let’s get ‘er prepped.” The two of them worked seamlessly, adjusting you into a more comfortable position. Wade leaned back against the headboard, you laid back against his chest. Your legs were spread, propped over Wade’s own, and Logan knelt in between your legs.

“Need you closer,” Logan grabbed your legs, propping them up against your shoulders and you whimpered at the feeling of his breath against your core. You clenched around nothing, squirming as Wade’s hands trailed up and down your body. With Logan’s help, you shimmied out of your underwear, letting them fall discarded to the floor.

Logan kissed up your thighs, moving closer and closer to where you wanted him. You bucked your hips, Logan’s grip tightening on your hips. “Patience, baby. Not going anywhere for a while.” Logan punctuated his sentence spreading your lips and licking a fat strip over your hole.

The moan that left you was Loud, your eyes rolling back into your head as you threw your head back against Wade’s chest. Wade’s hands cupped your breasts, gently squeezing and rolling your nipples in between his fingers. Wade leaned down, kissing the corner of your ear and whispering.

“Gonna be so good for us, aren’t you, sweetheart? Gonna let Logan have his fun with you, then I’ll have my turn. Not gonna be leaving this bed for a while, not until we’ve pulled so many orgasms from you.” You moaned, breath hitching as Logan lapped at your cunt, your hand gripping his hair. A low rumble left him, the vibrations shooting up your spine and your thighs squeezed against his head.

“Wanna be good, gonna be so good for you,” you said. Logan plunged his tongue in your hole and you swore you saw stars. Logan’s nose brushed against your clit as he ate your pussy like a man starved. You had figured he was good with his mouth but holy fuck. Pleased noises left him frequently, your moans and whines only spurring him on and you gripped at his hair at would had to be a painful hold, but Logan seemed to get off on it.

“Fuck, Lo- feels so fucking good. Holy shit, you feel so good. Make me feel so good,” you babbled and Logan looked up at you through his lashes, pupils dilated and eyes a little hazy, and the sight (mixed with Wade’s fingers rubbing at your clit with expertise) had you clenching down on his tongue, your thighs squeezing his head as he rode you through your first orgasm.

You honest to god pouted when Logan moved away until he crawled up to you, kissing you with such passion it made you dizzy. His tongue pressed into your mouth and the taste of you, mixed with the lingering alcohol on his lips from dinner, was intoxicating. His lips were slightly swollen when he finally parted and you knew you looked fucked out already.

“Alright, switcheroo time. About to Explode over here.” Wade spoke and to make his point, he rubbed his hard cock against your ass. You shifted, moving to straddle Wade, slowly rolling your hips down against his cock that strained against his boxers. You rubbed your hands down his chest, to his stomach, then hooked your fingers in the waistband.

“Poor baby, so neglected.” You cooed, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. You worked his boxers down, tossing them aside. “Whatcha think, pretty boy?” Wade shivered from the nickname, and you ran your hand up and down his thigh. “Does my favorite mouthy merc need my mouth? Whatever you want, baby.” One hand on Wade’s thigh, the other on his cheek.

“Mouth. Please, fucking need your mouth.” You nodded, looking over your shoulder at Logan as you slowly pumped Wade’s dick.

“Think you can handle prepping me?” You teased, smirking at Logan’s responding downright wolfish grin.

“Get comfortable, bub. Think I’m gonna get at least one more out of ya before I even consider fucking you.” And hot damn if that didn’t make you wet. You turned back to Wade, patting his thigh.

“On your back, prop your legs up. That’s it, good boy.” You snagged a pillow, positioning it under your stomach as you positioned yourself. While Logan had him beat, Wade certainly wasn’t lacking in the downstairs department and you barely stopped yourself from whining at the thought of the both of them stuffing you later.

Blinking once, you licked a stripe up the underside of Wade’s cock, smiling at the needy moan that fell from his lips. One of Wade’s hands fisted the sheets, the other moving down to grip your hair.

“Fuuuuck, fuck.” Wade moaned. You took Wade’s tip in your mouth, suckling softly, moaning when you felt Logan’s finger prodded at your entrance.

“Looks like all I needed to shut you both up,” Logan’s tone was taunting as he pushed his finger deeper, “was occupy your mouth. And get her mouth on you.” Logan moved his finger in and out as you moved your head further down Wade’s length.

“Oh, fuck off. Fucking- hnng- mouth from the gods. Shit!” Wade cursed as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking. Your nose brushed against his pelvis and you looked up at Wade through half lidded eyes.

“Fucking hell, cupcake, don’t- shit- don’t look at me like that if you want me to last.” You moaned when Logan added a second finger, Wade’s hips bucking as he felt the vibrations.

God, Wade finally fucking died and went to heaven- he could spend the rest of his life like this. The warmth of your mouth around his cock, muffled moans escaping you as you sucked his soul out of him through his dick, Logan finger fucking you from behind. Your stomach tightened, a sign you were close to cumming again, and you whined as you pushed back against Logan’s fingers.

“Gonna cum for me again, princess? Think you deserve it?” Logan asked, voice taunting as he brushed against your g-spot, the pressure almost causing you to buckle. Your pleas were muffled by the cock in your mouth and you whimpered. “What do you think, Red? I think it’s fair to make ‘er wait, until you’ve had your turn.” Logan set a relentless pace, fingers hitting just right every time, and you squirmed, jerking forward when Logan’s hand slapped your ass.

Wade moaned his agreement, hips bucking into your mouth. One of your hands held his hips, the other moving up to fondle his balls and Wade started to pant.

“Fuck, ‘m close, just like that, baby, shit!” You picked up the pace, and after one, two, three more bobs, Wade’s hands found the back of your head, holding you in place as he rode out his orgasm. You moaned as you swallowed, letting Wade pull you off. A few seconds passed before Wade was on you again, his lips against yours.

You kissed him the best you could, in between the breathy moans and whines as your orgasm got closer. Wade tilted your head up, latching onto your neck and pressing bites and sucking at the sensitive skin.

One thing you noticed quickly about the men was their love of leaving marks on you. Hickeys and scratch marks didn’t last long on Wade or Logan, their healing quickly removing the marks, but you? They lingered and it drove them crazy.

The room filled with needy whines, gasps, and a high pitched moan as your second orgasm crashed through you, and Logan continued pumping his fingers. “That’s it, darling, good girl.”

“Lo,” you whined, panting as Logan pulled out his fingers. He caressed your hip as he shifted towards Wade. A single look was all it took and Wade’s mouth was open, happily sucking Logan’s fingers clean.

“Turns out all I need to get your mouth to stop running is stuff it. Finally found a good use for that mouth, huh, Mouth?” Logan asked and Wade nodded, eyes glazed over.

You huffed from where you were underneath them and Logan squeezed your hip. “Feeling needy? How do you want us?”

And that’s how Logan ended on his back, you on top of him, and Wade behind you. You were so fucking full, impossibly full, but god you wanted more. You needed more and you raked your nails down his chest, throwing your head back against. “Fuck me like you mean it, Logan. Fill me up, make me scream so the entire street knows who I belong to.”

Going for his possessiveness was a cheap shot, but by the way his eyes darkened, a low snarl leaving him, god damn was it effective. The grip he held on your thighs was bruising, Logan and Wade thrusting into you in tandem. Wade’s chest was against your back, whispering in your ear.

“Fucking feel so good. Made for me, made for us. Gonna ruin you for anyone else, you’re ours.” Wade nipped at your ear, tugging the skin gently.

“Like I’d ever go anywhere else. You’re both mine, forever. Would, fuck!, would be happy staying in between the two of you forever.” Logan leaned up, wrapping his lips around your nipples and you arched into his touch with a properly pornographic moan. “Where, where else would I go?” You tugged Logan’s hair, tilting your head to the side so Wade had better access to your neck.

The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, moans and whines. Logan groaned deep in his throat, his thrusts getting a little sloppier but sharper- he was close. Based on the way Wade’s grip tightened on you, his babbling being replaced by needy noises and curses, your -god, you’ve lost count at this point- orgasm approaching.

“Fuck! Fuck, love you both so much. My boys, all mine. Close, shit, so close.” An animalistic growl left Logan, Wade biting down on your shoulder, and you felt both men twitch in you. “Fill me up, make me yours.” Your babbling was cut off by a broken moan, clenching down as your orgasm hit. Your vision went white, truly seeing stars, and it felt like you ascended from your body.

You came to a moment later, laid against Logan’s chest and Wade’s leg draped over the both of you, face buried into your shoulder blades. “There she is,” Logan’s voice was rough, scratchy, but gentle all the same. “Feel better now?”

“Don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a week,” you said. You shifted slightly, looking between both Logan and Wade with a happy smile.

A low rumble filled the room and holy fuck, Logan was purring. A rough sound but soothing all the same. “Fuck, I love you both so much.” You leaned over to kiss Wade, then Logan, then leaned back against the pillows as your eyes closed. You and Wade spoke softly, Logan occasionally chipping in but happy to listen, his purr being all the input needed.

The universe sure had a weird way of working. The three of you having rough starts, losing those you loved, believing you were destined to spend the rest of your lives alone. Then Wade stumbled into your life, Logan begrudgingly joining him, and now… you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

-

taglist: @flower-majesty-anon @scarlettsoldier @asdorlia

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 19 - Yandere!Fallen Angel!Yunho + Possession & Size

@whatudowhennooneseesyou Said: Can I pls request- Stalker/yandere Yunho (however far you want to take it) Possessiveness (duh) + size kink (also duh it's Yunho) You can turn the Yunho request into a fallen/corrupt Angel AU if you wish! A/n: In my defence, I wasn't expecting this to get this long lmaoo Also, peek the hint that OC might not be all human, too 👀 Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Yandere, Possession, Monstrous Features, Mention of Violence, Blood, and a bit of Angst to start Word Count: 4,550 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

Months. 

It’s taken him months to get where he is now with you, and oh, how sweet it all is. He knew his patience would be rewarded, and now, nothing shall ever come between you again. After all, they took everything from him. Everything but you.

You were his last salvation; his saving grace in a world that turned its back on him long ago. He wouldn’t let them take you, too. He couldn’t.

The fall only made him stronger. No longer was Yunho bound by the same morals and laws that governed him when he was one of the sacred. Now, he was free to do whatever he pleased, and he was not afraid to let himself indulge.

There was no limit to what he might do, especially when it concerned you.

Of course, you only saw the best parts of him at first. The good behaviours he specifically curated to make you fall for him, just as he had fallen for you long ago. There was no way he would shroud your world in darkness, let alone be the cause of it. You only saw what he wanted you to see, and he would never show you just how red his hand have been stained for you.

You, and only you.

No, Yunho would never hurt you. He would rather face a thousand more falls from grace only to have his wings finally torn out than lift a single finger against you. However, that’s not to say he’s not above influencing your perception of him.

Alas, beautiful facades can only last so long, and Yunho found this out the hard way. He never intended for you to catch him that night, but all good things must come to an end.

Only… it didn’t.

Never in his wildest dreams could he have pictured what had happened next.

Instead of running away from him in fear, you walked closer. Your shoes left bloody footprints imprinted on the stone, leading all the way up to the alter where Yunho had been frozen in fear. His eyes were wide, chest barely rising and falling as his heart pounded beneath his ribcage.

Not even his fall from grace was as painstaking a moment as this.

White feathers littered the pews, stained red with blood. Viscera and chunks of flesh torn asunder littered the once polished wooden floors, stained glass shattered all around.

A tear of blood streaked down the stone cold cheek of Mother Mary, mirroring the way a single tear cut through the blood and grime splattered on his own. Your name but a broken plea upon his lips.

“Yunho.”

His name was deafening. A condemnation from the only person he’s ever loved. The only person he will ever love.

He closed his eyes, unable to bear witness to the devastation that was surely about to befall him once more.

The moment he felt your gentle hands cup his cheeks, brushing his tears away, he flinched.

“Look at me.”

It took him a moment, and a little more coaxing from you, but he finally cracked his eyes open to meet your own.

Yunho had not experienced fear like this before. A being such as himself was not capable of it, nor has he ever cared enough to bother with something as trivial as paranoia. Remorse and regret have also never crossed his mind. Every action was always his own to make, and he readily stood by each, fully prepared to face the consequences.

The instant he looked into your eyes, he broke.

“I’m sorry.” The words were but a wail upon his lips, falling to his knees as he clung to your hands for support. Sobs wracked his whole body, resting his forehead upon the backs of your palms as he begged for forgiveness. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”

A frown briefly furrowed your brow. “End?”

“I never wanted you to see me like this.” His voice was barely above a whisper, clinging to you for dear life as if you may disappear at a moment’s notice.

“Like how?” Your head tilted curiously. “The real you?”

His throat worked as he swallowed thickly.

“Yunho, if I had been worried about seeing the real you, I wouldn’t have followed you here.” Carefully, you brush some bloodied strands of hair out of his face.

He lifted his head, the most dangerous of emotions shining in his eyes.

Hope.

“You-“ He swallowed thickly once more. “You’re not scared?”

“You know… sometimes when you stare into darkness,” a small, knowing smile had pulled at your lips, “It stares back.”

Yunho’s breath had caught at how dark your eyes had gotten then, his heart fluttering inside of his chest. The fact that you had found him like this, had seen the worst parts of him, and stayed, only made him fall that much deeper for you. Finally, someone had accepted him. All of him. 

It was then that he decided that if he couldn’t have you, then no one could. After all, how was he to know that instead of turning away from him, you would embrace his darkness with your own?

No longer did Yunho have to hide himself from you. No longer did he have to monitor how he presented himself, or hide how willing he always is to do anything and everything for you.

Now, you will always know the full extent of his love. You will understand just how far he is willing to go for you. How far he’s always been willing to go.

You are his, and he is yours. Nothing - no one - will ever come between.

Yunho is a very passionate being. Nothing is done half-heartedly, giving his all to you at every opportunity. Never does he want you to doubt where his loyalties lie. You own his heart, just as he is sure to own yours.

There are many events in which excite him. Events which cause his heart to race and his eyes to fill with that undeniable hunger and darkness for you. A craving only you can satisfy. Yet, no feeling is as glorious as having you pinned beneath him, his massive wingspan flared out and blanketing you both in shadows.

His body looms over you, lips pressed against your own in a passionate kiss as he settles between your thighs. The moment you wrap your legs around his waist, he rolls his hips into your own, chest rumbling at the whimper you let out.

Your one hand is tangled in his hair, the other pressing against the skin of his bare back in order to pull him in closer to you. Red lines begin to mar his flesh, wings fluttering as you scratch your nails harshly down his back.

His own touch is neither gentle, nor slow, hands slipping beneath the material of your shirt and pushing it upwards. His fingertips dig into your skin, making quick work of your clothing as he tears the offending fabric from your body. 

A pleased growl echoes around the room as he pulls back to take in the sight of you, naked and exposed, beneath him. His eyes shine with that all too familiar darkness, a primal sort of desperation hiding within.

His chest heaves, gaze raking over your body eagerly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he towers over you, hands still gripping you firmly and ensuring you cannot escape him.

Not that you’d want to, anyways.

“You’re fucking perfect, Angel.” Yunho’s voice is but a low drawl as he slides his hands down your thighs. “Fucking perfect, and all mine.”

A soft moan parts your lips, eyes fluttering shut as you revel beneath his heated gaze. Subconsciously, your hips jerk against his, aching for him to touch you where you need him most.

“Yunho-” You choke on a whine, beginning to squirm as you watch his wings twitch above you. “Yunho please.”

“What is it, My Salvation?” He hums, almost mockingly. Tilting his head to the side, the corner of his lips quirks upwards. His thumbs trace soft circles over your thighs, hands stilling as he stares down at you. “Is your pretty pussy aching for my cock?”

A whine escapes you, back arching lightly from the bed. Your hands immediately find purchase around his wrists, holding onto him in attempts to pull him back into you.

“Ah-ah,” He tuts, his eyes shining in glee. “You know the rules.”

Another whimper escapes you, clenching around nothing in desperation.

Almost instantly, Yunho catches the movement, a smirk settling onto his features.

“Please, Yun,” Your nails dig into his skin, continuing to try and pull him in closer to you. “I need you. I need you to touch me. You, and only you.”

A pleased hum escapes him, his fingers slowly sliding upwards and along your inner thighs.

“Keep talking.”

Again, you squirm beneath his touch, heart fluttering as you see his wings flare out behind him.

“Need your fingers in this tight little pussy,” You whine, tilting your head slightly as you put your whole body on display for him. “Need your thick cock buried deep inside me and splitting me in two.”

His fingers tease at the innermost part of your thighs, gaze locked onto your cunt. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, cock twitching as he watches you drip down your ass just from the mere thought of him touching you.

“And?” Briefly, his gaze flicks up to meet your own, hands sliding down beneath your ass before pushing your thighs up towards your chest.

Your breath hitches slightly, letting out a small whine in the next moment. Your eyes are pleading, toes curling lightly in anticipation as you clench hard at the position you now find yourself in.

“Yunho-“

“Come on, Angel. You know better than that.”

Each movement is precise as he lowers himself between your legs. His hot breath brushes over your core with every exhale he makes, but still, he keeps his distance.

“Yunho-“ Your voice boarders on a whimper, hands desperately covering his as he holds you open for him. “Baby, please.”

His brow quirks, amusement shining in his eyes. The corner of his lips pull upwards as he noses along the inside of your thigh.

“What’re the magic words?”

You clench once more as you feel him flick his tongue out against your skin. Already, your chest heaves, rising and falling dramatically with every breath as you squeeze your eyes shut. Taking a stuttering breath in, the admission you know that he’s been patiently waiting for finally falls from your lips.

“My pretty pussy is all yours to ruin.”

The grin that stretches across his face is nothing short of predatory.

“Good Girl.”

A tender kiss is placed onto the skin of your inner thigh before Yunho finally closes the distance between you. He wastes no time nuzzling against you, nose parting your folds as his tongue flicks out to taste that sweet nectar that pours from between your legs.

Eagerly, he drinks you in, moaning at your taste. His eyes never once leave your own, tongue dipping between your folds before shifting to flick against that swollen little nub. Not even a moment later, he wraps his lips around your clit, suckling at you as his fingers dig into your skin.

His hands hold you open, pushing your legs towards your chest as he buries himself in you. Nothing but primal lust and love can be seen in his gaze as he watches you toss your head back onto the pillows, greedily pulling you in closer to him with every sound you make.

Languidly, his tongue circles over your clit before placing a few chaste kisses against that sensitive little bud. A pleased hum escapes him as he laves his tongue back down to your entrance, groaning at the feel of you clenching around him. Already, he can feel you dripping down his chin, pushing in closer to thrust his tongue as deep as he can into your tight little cunt. 

The way your hips begin to grind against his face has him growling in content.

Your hands cling onto his own over the backs of your thighs, right beneath the crooks of your knees. Loud, keening moans escape you as your back arches lightly from the bed. Each flick of his tongue against your clit has your eyes rolling, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Already, you feel like you’re about to tip right over the edge.

“Yunho-“ Your voice catches as you choke on a moan. “Fuck- just like that, Baby.”

A pleased hum against you is all you receive in response, his tongue delving between your folds and swirling lightly against your entrance. His dark eyes drink in your every reaction, wings flaring out over you and covering your body in a soft canopy of the deepest void.

He laves his mouth over your cunt, as if he were kissing you, suckling every drop of you that you provide. His tongue eagerly parts you, wrapping his lips around that pert little bud of yours before he starts to suck on your clit. Hard.

Cries of ecstasy fill the room as your back arches from the bed. Your eyes roll, orgasm crashing into you as your whole body shakes. His name is all you can say between your whimpers and whines, his mouth unrelenting on your pussy as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

Your walls continue to spasm as he buries two of his fingers deep inside of you without warning.

Yunho’s eyes flutter in bliss, feeling the way your wet warmth squeezes so delicately around his fingers as he curls them inside of you. He’s barely given you any time to recover from your previous orgasm, his eyes sharp as they glint hungrily beneath the darkness of the room.

He needs to see you fall apart for him again.

Him, and only him.

“More.” He growls out against you, letting your legs fall to rest over his shoulders.

The way your thighs instantly threaten to close around his head has his wings twitching, feathers rustling as they dance above you.

By now, his one hand has found purchase on your waist, pulling you into him as he pumps his fingers into you. The wet squelch he can hear every time he sinks his digits deep within your precious cunt has his cock throbbing against the mattress. 

Slowly, he begins grinding his hips in time with the movements of his fingers in you.

Nothing but incoherent whines and moans fall from your lips, eyes glazing as the pleasure flooding through your veins begins to consume you. Somehow you still manage to tangle one of your hands in his hair, pulling him in even closer as you chase that second high building just beneath the surface.

A feeling that you know only he can provide for you.

A feeling you only want him to provide.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you bring your free hand up to muffle your cries, cheeks heating at how loud he’s making you from the simplest of touches.

Something within him snaps, and a sharp smack is given to the skin of your upper thigh. His fingers still as he parts from you, lips curling over his suddenly sharp teeth.

“Don’t you dare fucking cover your mouth.” He snarls, black pupils nearly melting outwards and bathing the whites of his eyes in the darkest void. “I want to hear every fucking sound I elicit from you.”

Your eyes go wide, never having experienced such an intensity from him before. Without thinking, you nod your head, lowering your hand back to your side and gripping the sheets firmly between your fingers.

Yunho hums, curling his fingers gently within you. “That’s My Girl.”

The way you clench around him only makes him chuckle.

“Oh? What’s this?” He hums, taking his time to massage your inner walls as his thumb comes up to circle your clit. “Does My Girl like it when I call her mine?”

Shamelessly, a moan tumbles from your lips, clenching around him once more.

“Good.” Yunho licks his lips, pumping his fingers languidly in and out of you. “Because I love getting to call her mine.”

Another moan slips passed your parted lips, chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath.

His wings flutter above you as he holds your gaze.

“My Pretty Girl.” He coos, turning to nip at the skin of your thigh. “My Perfect Salvation.”

His fingers press a bit firmer against your walls, lips curling upwards as he sees you twitch beneath him when massaging over such a tender spot inside of you. His thumb circles over your clit, pressing firmly over that sensitive little bud as his fingers continue to work at that spot.

“All for me.” His voice deepens, bordering on a low growl. “Only ever for me.”

“Yours.” You manage to get out, hips beginning to grind against him in time with his movements.

A pleased coo fills the air, his chest rumbling as he begins to trail kisses up your thigh.

“That’s right, Angel.” He nips at your skin. “You’re mine.”

The moment he says those words, that pressure within you snaps. Your back is arching off of the bed once more, whole body shaking as your release washes over you. Nothing but desperate moans escape you, crying out his name in bliss as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your chest heaves with every breath, attempting to ground yourself while your head drowns in bliss.

Slowly, Yunho stills his fingers within you, his thumb stopping over your clit. The smile he wears is nothing short of pleased, his eyes hooded as he watches you succumb to the ecstasy he provides. The ecstasy he is more than willing to always provide.

More kisses are placed against your thigh as he slips his fingers from you, humming contently as he watches a string of your release cling to his skin. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he’s eagerly sucking his fingers into his mouth, eyes fluttering as he tastes you on his tongue.

“Fucking perfect.” He groans, wings shaking in bliss as he settles them behind his back.

A soft moan is all you offer him in response, eyes hooded as you watch his every movement. Finally, your breathing is starting to even out despite your mind still being in a blissful haze.

Blinking a few times as Yunho shifts to remove his pants, you finally feel as if you’ve come back to your body. Humming, you push yourself up, admiring the work of art before you as he stands in front of you. The way he languidly pumps his leaking cock after kicking off such offending material that sought to hide him from you has you licking your lips.

Your lips quirk upwards in the corners as you push yourself onto your knees, crawling towards him slowly.

Immediately, Yunho recognizes that look of hunger in your eyes, and he cannot help but to chuckle. His hand strokes over his cock as he stands at the end of the bed, watching on with nothing but amusement as you settle before him on your hands and knees.

Flicking your gaze upwards, you meet his eyes before darting out your tongue against the tip of his cock.

A low moan escapes him, his one hand reaching out to cup you beneath your chin.

“Not tonight, Angel.” His thumb gently traces over your bottom lip. “If I don’t bury myself inside of you in the next thirty seconds I may just go insane.”

A soft giggle escapes you, whole body heating as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Fine.” You sigh dramatically, pulling away from him with a playful roll to your eyes. “I just wanted a chance to claim My Man.”

A visible shudder travels up his spine, and you notice how he has to close his eyes to calm himself.

The corner of your lips pulls upwards in a smirk.

“Go sit in your chair, Angel.” You motion to the corner where his large leather antique chair resides with your head. “I want to watch you fall apart beneath me.”

Something primal flashes within his eyes, his chest rumbling with a pleased groan. He doesn’t even need to think twice before he begins backing himself towards the chair without even looking at where he’s going. No, his gaze is fixated on you.

Always, only ever you.

Slowly, you stand from the bed, loving the way he rakes his gaze over your body. You revel in the way he licks his lips, falling back into his chair and watching as his wings flutter out behind him. The best part is how you can see his stomach tense, cock twitching as you stalk towards him.

The moment you settle your thighs on either side of him, his hands are on your waist. His fingers dig into your skin, eyes locked on your figure as he pulls you in closer.

He licks his lips.

Lovingly, your fingers trace over his shoulders. You can feel him shiver beneath your touch, a pleasant hum escaping you as you slide your hands down his chest, admiring every inch of him before you.

“So handsome, Yuyu,” You coo, teasingly scraping your nails over his skin as you settle yourself directly over his cock. The way that you’re already dripping onto his cock has him twitching against your core. “So handsome, and all mine.”

His hips jerk upwards, a low moan escaping his lips. 

“All yours, Angel.” His breathing deepens, eyes hooding over as you begin grinding yourself lightly over his lap. “I’ll always only ever be yours, as you will always only ever be mine.”

Another pleased hum escapes you, sliding your hands up to settle back on his shoulders. Your fingers dig into his skin, steadying yourself over him as you lean in. Your noses brush, lips barely touching as you finally wrap your arms around him.

“I will always only ever be yours.” You breathe out, pressing your lips to his.

Immediately, Yunho is leaning into your kiss, desperate to feel all of you against all of him. Your one hand tangles in his hair, tugging at the locks as the other slides down his chest. His hands squeeze your hips, sliding down to grip your ass as he feels you grab his cock, pumping him a few times before lining him up with your entrance.

Slowly, you begin to sink down on his cock.

The moment his tip slips passed your folds, he moans, fingers tightening on your ass. His nails dig into your skin, wings surrounding the both of you and creating a safe haven for just the two of you.

Nothing but darkness surrounds you as you fully sheath him inside of you, moaning at the stretch. Your walls clench around him, stomach flipping pleasantly as you feel him filling you, the tip of his cock pressing so delicately against such a sensitive spot inside of you.

“So fucking big, Baby,” You coo, lashes fluttering as you feel him buried within your cunt. “Fits perfectly every time.”

“You were made for me, and I for you.” He breathes out, lifting you gently over his cock only to help you sink back down over him in the next second.

A strangled moan escapes you, clenching hard around him as you begin to move over him with his help. Your one hand tugs at his hair, the other coming up to cup his cheek as you press your forehead to his.

“Mine.” You whimper, setting a steady pace as you begin to bounce on his cock.

A pleased snarl escapes him, leaning further into you as he squeezes your ass.

“Yours.” His one hand trails up your back, pressing you flush against him as his wings begin to shake around you. “Always, all yours.”

A shameless moan of his name falls from you, eyes rolling as he fills you to the brim each time you sink down on his cock. His words make your head spin, the ravenous hunger behind his dark gaze causing your walls to flutter each time you look at him.

That familiar pressure begins building in your lower abdomen, drowning in his touch as he helps you bounce on his cock. You can feel him twitch deep inside of you, deep moans and growls escaping him as he watches your every expression closely. The way he throws his head back in pleasure briefly captivates you, just as you always captivate him.

You whimper, the head of his cock hitting that special spot deep within you each time.

Something within himself snaps as he watches you keen above him. In an instant, you find yourself pinned beneath him on the bed. His hips set a brutal pace, wings flaring out behind him as he traps you beneath his large form.

“Who do you belong to?” His voice is but a guttural snarl, hands pinning your wrists above your head.

“Yunho-“ The gasp you let out gets caught in your throat as he buries himself deep within you with each thrust. A crazed and desperate look shines deep within his eyes, only causing you to clench hard around him, already feeling yourself leaking down your thighs.

“Who?” His voice booms out, the whole house shaking around you.

A scream of his name tears from your throat, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your back arches, chest pressing firmly against his own as you squeeze around his cock, your orgasm flooding your veins and drowning your very being in ecstasy.

“You!” Your whole body shakes as you writhe beneath his touch. “I belong to no one but you!”

The moment those words escape your lips, Yunho is burying himself deep within you. He stills above you, flooding your cunt with his own release. His wings flare out behind him, guttural moans and groans of your name filling the air as he collapses on top of you.

Lazily, he grinds himself into you, loving the way he can feel your combined releases dripping out of your tight hole. He buries his face into the side of your neck, wings wrapping around you both softly as he releases his hold on your wrists.

Instantly, your arms are around him, one hand stroking over his back while the other combs lightly through his hair. Your chest heaves, attempting to catch your breath as you ground yourself to him. The way he wraps his own arms tightly around you makes you smile.

A tender kiss is placed directly over your pulse. “I love you.”

A soft hum escapes you, hugging him to your chest. “Love you, too.”

Happily, Yunho nuzzles his face into the side of your neck. His own arms tighten around you, ensuring that you cannot go anywhere for the time being.

“Mine.”

A soft chuckle shakes your chest, fingers continuing to thread gently through his hair. Shifting slightly, you lean down to press a kiss against his forehead.

Yunho’s chest rumbles in contentment, turning his head to peek up at you lovingly through his lashes.

“Yours.” You smile. “Always and forever, yours.”

[moonlightsolo]

i see you.

summary: being the product of a secret relationship between a human scientist and a na’vi comes with its perks. one of them being neteyam sully.

pairing: neteyam x fem!na’vi/human reader

warnings: heavvyyyyyyy smooching, angry jake, mention of parent dying/leaving, also things get a lil spicy, one use of y/n.

note: tell a friend to tell a friend she’s baaaaaack !!!!! i haven’t written something in so long so my grammar is kinda shit, so if you see something that doesn’t make sense ignore it! anyway- reader & neteyam are aged up to twenty years old. also reader is 6ft since she’s na’vi/human, but she’s still small compared to him since he’s like 8’2. 

part two | part three | part four | part five

no one knew how it happened- how you happened. how a human scientist and na’vi mated; it should have been impossible, but somehow they made it possible. 

your mother travelled from earth to pandora to study the native species of the omaticaya clan. during her studies, one particular na’vi caught her eye, and sooner than later they developed a secret relationship and fell deeply in love. 

they were inseparable- he taught her the ways of the forest and showed her how the na’vi live day to day. while your mother brought him along to collect samples of the environment around her, and he kept her safe as they explored.

the battle between the sky people and the na’vi, unfortunately ended with your father dying at the hands of your mothers colleagues. the omaticaya finally won, but when the rest of the human soldiers were sent back to earth, your mother was stuck. 

she was unable to travel in cryosleep while carrying you, so she was forced to stay on pandora and live out the rest of her pregnancy on the foreign planet. 

the only person who knew the identity of your father, was your mother and grace. everyone else assumed some soldier knocked up your mom, but boy, were they wrong. 

when you were born, your eye shape and color of your skin resembled your mothers, but the color of your irises were a deep amber, almost glowing yellow. darkened skin-colored stripes decorate your body head to toe, and white freckles adorn your facial features. 

the secret was out- you’re half na’vi, and half human. 

once the clan found out the scientists child is part na’vi, they took you under their wing to teach you their ways. your mother became extremely jealous, knowing that she could never be accepted by them like you have.

at the mere age of four, your mother left the base to travel back to earth without you. leaving you under the care of norm, max, jake and the rest of the clan.

thankfully being part na’vi and human, you’re able to breathe both types of air. mo’at became your motherly figure once your mom disappeared, quickly helping you adapt to their lifestyle in the forest.

over the years, you started to realize that you were different from the other na’vi children. you’re shorter in height, aren’t as fast, and you didn’t have their azure-colored skin. but somehow, you still felt as if you were a part of them. 

you became close to neytiri and jake’s kids, mostly kiri. you grew up with her and neteyam, but as you blossomed into a woman you wouldn’t dare to look him in the eyes. 

fearing that he’d realize your true feelings for him if he stared into them too long. 

throughout your teen years, you casually dated a few na’vi boys, but none of them were neteyam sully. nobody could compare, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 

even now as a young adult, those old feelings can’t be choked down anymore. the same feelings you had about the eldest sully boy when you were younger. 

“stop drooling.” kiri teases you under her breath as her hands work to weave a basket. 

you’re knocked out of your trance, head whipping to face her. “no! i am not drooling.” you scoff and shake your head as you continue tucking leaves into the correct shape. you can feel your cheeks burning hot from her catching you staring at her older brother. 

you glance up from your working hands, admiring how neteyam effortlessly spears a fish in the water that he’s standing ankle-deep in. he lets out a triumphant laugh as lo’ak hollers proudly at him from the grass. 

“yeah, bro! get that fiiiiiish!” the younger boy whoops happily with his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound.

the older brother turns his head to see who else could have noticed the catch, barely making eye contact with you before your eyes drop back down to your hands. 

swiftly, you busy yourself with tucking the leaves into each other. your pointed ears twitch slightly when you notice the sound of rustling water growing closer. 

kiri nudges your arm with her shoulder which confirms your suspicions.

he’s walking up to you. why is he walking up to you? you didn’t say anything to him. you didn’t even get a good look at him. there’s no reason for him to come over here.

from your peripheral vision, you can see his feet stop right in front of you in the glittering water. “hey guys.” he speaks softly, almost out of breath.

“hey, neteyam!” kiri quips at him, eyeing you from the corner of her eye with an evil grin.

the sound of his panting voice makes your heart  skip a beat and your abdomen constrict your breathing. you push the basket away from your nervous hands to rest them on your knees. your eyes carefully drag up the lanky expanse of his body, meeting his eyes with your own.

“oh hey, neteyam. how’s… um- the fishing going?” you hum nervously, chewing on your bottom lip out of a nervous habit. 

you can’t help but notice his hands are resting on his slender hips with his infamous bright smile on his face. 

“it was good. caught a few big ones…” he huffs out another strained breath. the sound makes you want to fall over, “what are you guys doing?” his eyes dart over to the trees for a split second before squatting down in front of you and kiri. 

his big round eyes look over your unfinished baskets, reaching out to touch yours gently. 

“hey! don’t touch. you’ll ruin it.” kiri swats at his grabby hands, making him raise his arms in surrender. “okay, okay!” he laughs. 

the sound of rustling leaves distracts you from the boy in front of you, making you and kiri turn to look behind your backs. before you could even make it halfway, his hands wrap around your wrists to yank you forward. 

“shit!!” you yelp before you face-plant into the chilly water, gurgling under the surface before lifting your head up, taking a sharp breath.

muffled laughter fills your ears as you sit up in the pond, pushing your soaked hair out of your face and off of your ears so you could hear. 

neteyam is sitting in the pond directly in front of you, hand laying across his abdomen as he belly laughs along with lo’ak. 

kiri is already climbing out of the water, grumbling under her breath and wringing out her hair. “screw you guys.” she calls back, flipping her middle finger before disappearing into the thick forest towards home. 

you look back at neteyam and lo’ak who are slightly calming down between their fits of laughter. “you… should… see… your… face… right… now!” neteyam cackles, throwing his head back in the air. 

“best idea, bro.” lo’ak reaches over to high five his brothers shoulder and to use him to pull himself out of the water. he grabs neteyam’s hand to help him up next, both of them still giggling.

“this was your idea?” you stare up at neteyam with squinted eyes and a scowl on your face. 

the boy audibly gulps when he notices your changed demeanor, his hand going to scratch the back of his neck. “uuhh, yeah… maybe?” he clears his throat, darting his eyes away from you. 

for a moment, you keep the angry facade before your arm winds back and you send your hand through the water to splash the older boy. 

“woah!” neteyam blocks the water with one of his hands, a surprised smile instantly forming on his perfect lips.

he swoops down towards the water, sending a wave directly into your face. “hey!” your eyebrows furrow, quickly getting onto your knees to send another burst of water towards him. 

lo’ak watches the scene unfolding in front of him, noticing that the rest of the fish swam away from the commotion. “guess we’re done fishing today.” he sighs in defeat and climbs out of the pond without either of you noticing. he follows kiri’s footsteps into the forest with the basket of fish over his shoulder.

you and neteyam continue battling it out, which ends in both of you completely soaked head to toe. “truce! truce!” you yell out in exasperation, falling back into the water. 

“my stomach hurts from laughing. i can’t anymore.” you continue to giggle as neteyam helps you up from your position in the water. he slowly trails behind you as you trudge back towards land, his tall stature towers over you from behind. he reaches out to grip your hips to lift you onto the plush grass. 

the feeling of his hands resting on your body makes your blood run hot, cheeks flaring with heat. 

“we’re drenched. what are we going to tell everyone?” he breathes out heavily with a soft chuckle. 

“we slipped and fell into the water?” you suggest and look up at him.

“we just happened to both slip and fall into the water together?” his eyebrows raise, and his cheeks puff out air in attempt to not laugh.

unfortunately, neteyam decides to look down at you which makes both of you burst into laughter again, “that idea is so stupid.” he choked out, pressing his fist to his mouth to stifle his little laughs. 

“let’s go back. we can figure it out on the way.” you sputter out, hunching over slightly as you walk forward in attempt to stop your giggles.

“hey, wait!” neteyam’s voice is suddenly serious, and you can’t feel his height looming behind you anymore.

you turn around at the sound of his voice, seeing he’s still in the same spot he was standing in. “i don’t want to go back yet.” he admits, his big round eyes darting down to his feet. 

you can feel your heartbeat grow faster, pattering against your chest like a jackhammer. “why not? you okay?” you take a hesitant step forward to stand underneath him, looking up in attempt to read his facial features.

by now, the sun is starting to set. the foliage around you both is slowly changing over, the white freckles in each others skin sparkling under the moonlight. 

his yellow eyes shyly look into yours, a timid smile twitching up onto the corner of his lips. 

“m’fine, i promise. i just want to stay here for a little longer. i don’t want to go back just yet.” he mumbles softly, a puff of his breath fans over your face from your close proximity. 

you can’t help but feel giddy from his words, unable to stop yourself from reaching your hand out to rest on his waist. your thumb absentmindedly rubs circles against his soft skin, “do you mind if i stay with you?” 

“do i mind?” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes, throwing his head back with an over-exaggerated sigh. 

embarrassment floods your body, making your ears ring from the blood rushing through your head. out of fear he’s angry with you, your hand pulls away from him, “oh i’m sorry. i’ll go then.” you start to turn the opposite way but he grabs your hips to keep you in place. 

“are you serious? you really don’t get it do you?” he almost laughs out of amusement, but you can’t help but feel even more confused. 

“i want you to stay here with me. i want you.” one of his hands come up from his side, bending down slightly to carefully tuck your hair behind one of your ears. 

your face stays emotionless as your eyes dart from his eyes to lips and back. “say something. anything?” he begs and shakes his head at you with an amused smile. 

“‘teyam…” you breathe out, a big smile beaming across your face, hands reaching up to cup his cheeks; something you could’ve only dreamed of doing. “i can’t tell if you’re being serious.” you whisper softly in the small amount of space between your faces.

“i’m gonna kiss you now to show you how serious i am.” he looks directly into your eyes before they flutter shut and he leans forward. 

the feeling of his lips on yours makes your knees go weak. neteyam sully is really kissing you right now. your arms wrap around his waist tightly to hold yourself up, which he quickly notices. 

his large hands drag down your sides and over your butt to grip the back of your thighs to hoist you up to his height. your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, ankles locking against his lower back. 

the new position allows him to deepen the kiss even more by gently wiggling his tongue against yours. he stumbles forward to a nearby tree, pressing your back against the trunk of it. 

it’s not like he’s having trouble carrying you, you’re equivalent to a feather for him. he just wants you closer. 

one of his braids falls in your face, swinging and tapping your cheek whenever your lips would connect.

“your hair…” you giggle against his lips, bringing your hand up to his face to tuck it back behind his ear. 

“sorry, they have a mind of their own, ya know.” his husky voice mumbles deeply into your ear, making goosebumps rise on your skin. 

your eyes flutter open to be met with the glowing forest, neon colors lighting up the vegetation around you both. you’ve been on this planet for twenty years and it still surprises you every day. 

neteyam pulls back to look you in the eyes, letting you admire his face for a moment. his blue skin seems brighter under the bioluminescent foliage. especially with the gleaming freckles that paint his skin. 

“ma neteyam, you’re so pretty.” your hand cups his soft cheek which he nuzzles into your palm almost instantaneously.

“no, you’re the pretty one, my girl.” he leans forward to peck your lips once more. the little nickname makes your stomach do somersaults in your belly. his tail flicks up happily against your ankle, tickling your lower leg.

neteyam takes the time to gently kiss down your neck and over your collarbone, “i want you to be mine.” he almost whimpers. his nose nuzzles against your pulse point as his lips continue litter your neck with kisses. 

“will your parents approve?” your voice slightly quivers, “you’re next in line to become eytukan. i’m not a full-blood. i don’t think-.” your rambling is paused by his lips pressing against the tip of your nose. 

“i don’t care what they think. plus, you know my dad likes you.” he gives you a reassuring smile, bringing one of his hands up to cup your cheek. you can’t help but take note that his palm and fingers cover the entire side of your head. 

“yeah, but your mom…” you trail off, not wanting to seem rude by talking about his mother, but you know that she has a problem with humans. you’ve seen the way she looks at spider. 

“look, i’m half-blood too. i don’t think my mom is going to care, plus you’ve been around our family for years. she likes you, i promise.” 

“i’m not one of you. i’m different, neteyam.” you let out shakily, “i’m small and not as fast, i can’t keep up with you.” your eyes dart to the side as you chew on the skin of your lip. 

“look, i know she can be tough, but i promise you, i don’t care what she thinks. since i was a teenager, i realized that i wanted you. i wasn’t brave enough to tell you that until now, but i don’t give a shit about our differences.” his hand grips your jaw with his hand, turning your face towards him so he can look into your watery eyes. 

“i see you, y/n.” his doe-like eyes flicker over your face, trying to read your expression. his eyes are full of adoration and love for the girl in his arms. 

your breath gets caught in your throat, “and i see you.” both of your hands slide up from his chest to rest on either side of his face, pulling him in for another kiss. 

on the way up, you accidentally brush against the voice comm device on his necklace. not knowing it would activate and relay sound through his father’s, mothers, and lo’ak’s ear piece. 

you both gasp into each others mouth when he ruts his hips against your center, the pressure pins your hips to the tree behind you. 

“what is that sound? who has their comm on?”you hear a low muffled voice coming from somewhere. 

neteyam instantly pulls away from the heated kiss, eyes wide with terror and embarrassment. your lips parting lets off a loud suction noise when he pulls away, now making it obvious what the sounds were coming from.

neteyam holds you up with one arm while he uses the other to click on a button on his necklace to turn it off, “it’s my dad.” 

“it’s just neteyam sucking face.” you hear lo’aks voice come through clearly in his ear piece. 

the boys head falls forward to rest on your chest, letting out the loudest over-exaggerated groan of annoyance. the puff of his hot breath against your damp skin makes a shiver shoot down your spine.

you can’t help but giggle and gently pet the top of his head in attempt to console him, “i’m never going to live this down.” he speaks against your skin, grumbling obscenities under his breath. 

“neteyam! where are you, boy?” jake shouts into his ear. 

he taps your thigh to signal you to release your grip from around his waist. he gently lowers you back down to the ground before answering him, “i’m here, dad. i’m here.” 

you can’t help but lean your head on his elbow since that’s the only place you can reach. you grab one of his hands, bringing it to your face to examine it. 

you thread your fingers through his much larger ones, squeezing his hand with your own. you almost laugh at how his hand engulfs yours. 

“yeah, mmmhmm. yeah, okay. i hear you. lo’ak shut up. i got it. we’ll be there soon.” neteyam responds to whoever is talking in his ear. 

“is everything okay?” you mumble quietly, peering up at him through your eyelashes. 

“they want us to come back, but i think everything is okay.” he smiles down at you, pulling you into his side while still holding your hand. 

neteyam leads you through the thick brush of the forest to his ikran. the banshee chirps at the sight of it’s owner, fluttering it’s wings in excitement. “hey, buddy.” neteyam hums and rubs it’s head. 

he reaches around his back for his braid, bringing it forward to make bond with the animal. neteyam effortlessly mounts onto the bird, reaching a hand out for you to take.

you step forward to slide your hand into his so he could help you on and get situated. “hold on tight.” he peers down at you from behind his shoulder with a smirk before the ikran nosedives off of the tree branch. 

“oooohhhhh my god!” you screech as your arms desperately flail around his waist, holding onto him as tightly as you can. 

he can’t help but laugh at your scream once he levels out, now coasting through the sky through the floating mountains. one of his hands reaches back to grip your thigh to pull you even closer to him. 

you hesitantly open your eyes, looking down into the glowing scenery beneath you. “beautiful, right?” his voice raises over the loud whooshing of the wind. 

“i love it.” you squeeze his torso tight, snuggling your temple into the crook of his back as you coast through the air. 

the ikran dips down slightly, making you gasp and tighten around his body. neteyam chuckles, his hand rests on your leg to slowly rub gentle circles into your skin to calm you. 

“hold on, we’re gonna descend.” he leans forward with the ikran, plunging downwards toward the ground once again. you squeal loudly, wriggling behind him in attempt to get closer to him. 

neteyam chuckles, shaking his head as he weaves and bobs between trees to make it back home. the ikran vertically swoops up into the large crevasse in the cave floor, landing on the rocky floor. 

neteyam hops easily off the ikran, disconnecting tsaheylu before his hands grip your waist to lift your body up to place you on the ground next to him.

“what were you guys thinking staying out past curfew?” jake storms up to you both, obviously angry. 

“i know, but i can handle myself. i know how to fight.” neteyam grumbles back, making jake even angrier with his son. if steam could shoot out of his ears at this moment, it would. 

“i know that you know how to fight, son. but the rda, they could be roaming anywhere. it’s dangerous, especially putting her in that situation.” he looks down at you, then turns his attention back to his son.

before jake could lecture him even more, you decide to intervene, “i’m sorry, sir. it’s all my fault we stayed out. i persuaded him to stay… to uh- fly around,” you glance up at neteyam through the corner of your eye, “i take full responsibility.” you nod at jake, gulping down your nervousness. 

jake sighs as he rubs his temples with one of his hands, “so then what’s the reason why both of you are soaked?” he points out, making you instantly freeze from not knowing what to say. 

neteyam’s hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, “to be honest, we were wrestling in the water.” 

your eyes blow wide from his words, turning to him to stare daggers into the side of his face. 

“wrestling… in the water?” jake almost laughs, “look i didn’t need to know that much. you couldn’t come up with a better excuse than that?” 

“oh shit.” neteyam whispers under his breath, “no, dad, it’s not like that at all. i meant… we were just splashing each other after fishing. it wasn’t anything like that.” 

“look, you two just be safe and keep it on the down-low. and next time, please take off your comm, ‘kay?” jake lowers his voice before shaking his head in disbelief and turning on his heel to head back. 

“so he thinks we had sex then, huh?” you breathe out defeat, looking up at neteyam. the boy lets out a huff of air as he watches his father walk away, “yeah i guess so.” his voice has a slight tinge of humor to it. 

the hand resting on your shoulder pulls you into his side with a little chuckle. he starts walking with you toward the pod where the scientists sleep. 

he follows you up the steps to the door, pausing a few steps down before you could open it. his face now parallel to yours since you’re higher on the stairs. 

you smile down at him, reaching out to gently pinch his chin to pull his face forward. you press your lips against his softly, as if he was a delicate flower petal. “i had fun tonight.” you mumble with a smile against his lips before pulling back. 

neteyam presses forward to chase your lips with his, trying to breathe in as much of you as he could. “don’t wanna let you go yet… wanna kiss you more.” he desperately pulls you forward to kiss you again, sucking in a sharp breath. 

your arms lazily drape over his shoulders to kiss him slowly, and tantalizingly. he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, gently nibbling the skin before making his way down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. 

“gotta go to bed before my mother has me by my throat.” his words make you laugh as you twirl one of his braids between your fingers. 

“tomorrow i wanna take you somewhere. will you let me?” he pulls back with a smile, thumb rubbing the skin of your outer thigh. 

“of course, i would love to. but where though?” you question with your fingers still busy messing with his hair. 

“it’s a surprise.” he hums playfully making your eyebrows furrow from curiosity of where it could be. 

“i love surprises.” you grin, leaning forward to peck his lips once more before attempting to completely pull away. neteyam groans from the warmth of your body leaving him, his arms wrap around your legs to keep you in place. 

“don’t leaaaaave.” he whines, resting his chin on your chest to look up at you. 

“i need to shower and clean up before bed. plus your mother is going to have your throat, ya know.” you poke his little pink nose, making his face scrunch up cutely.

“you’re right, you’re right.” he grumbles sadly, patting your outer thigh before he completely pulls back and stands up straight. he leans forward to swiftly peck your lips, “just needed one more, m’sorry. i’ll see you tomorrow.” he turns around to climb down the rest of the steps. 

“goodnight, neteyam!” you shout at him as you unlatch the metal door. 

he turns around at the sound of your voice, “goodnight.” he whisper-yells back at you as he slowly walks backwards to watch you slip inside. 

neteyam’s smile on his face doesn’t falter, not even for one second. the only thing on his mind is you. he never would have imagined that his day would have ended like this. confessing his feelings to you, and kissing you goodnight. it’s almost as if he’s living through a fantasy his younger self dreamed of. 

the excitement of you makes him toss and turn throughout the night; it makes him nervous, knowing that he is already head over heels for you and in too deep- but all he can worry about now, is seeing you tomorrow. 

-

tags: @k----a27s @aspenreadsfanfic @aliseaaah