#he only intervenes when it's necessary

[another-goblin]

Dr. Ratio: Just tell me if you can't hold on any longer.

So what exactly does this mean? Yes, he worries about Aventurine and can't hide it. But it's not like Ratio to just give empty encouragements.

To me, it looks like an offering of help: "Things went awry; you are in much more danger than we expected; I can help you if you want."

So what was he going to do if Aventurine said yes? Did he have an emergency plan? A way to remove Sunday's curse? To abort the mission and safely extract Aventurine from the Dreamworld and Penacony despite the absolute control of the Family?

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

@errorunfound1

Yandere!neglectful!Batfam x mom!reader

Wayne Manor had always felt vast, but to you, it was more of a void than a home. It was easy to get lost in its endless hallways, in the constant hum of life orbiting Bruce’s nocturnal mission. You married him for love, despite knowing the weight of the life he led. You accepted his scars, his mission, his world. But what you hadn’t expected was how little space there would be left for you in it.

Bruce was always out, chasing shadows, leaving you to navigate a family that seemed determined to keep you at arm’s length. You poured your heart into them—Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian—but your efforts were met with indifference at best and disdain at worst. You had been a mother in every way that mattered, yet the coldness you received in return made your heart ache.

“You don’t have to act like you care,” Jason sneered once when you tried to patch him up after patrol. “We both know you’re just here for him.”

Tim barely acknowledged you unless it was necessary, his head buried in his work. Dick’s smiles, once genuine, now felt like politeness masking discomfort. And Damian, always the sharpest, had no qualms about cutting you down. “You’re not my mother,” he’d said, his words a dagger that twisted in your chest.

Bruce never intervened. When you tried to tell him, his responses were dismissive. “They’ll come around,” he’d say before disappearing into the night. But they never did.

So, you stayed quiet, swallowing the hurt, letting it fester.

One night, you stood in the empty dining room, staring at the cold, untouched dinner you’d prepared. The clock ticked on the wall, counting the hours Bruce was late. Again. You could hear the faint hum of voices from the Batcave below, the family gathered around him while you sat alone.

It wasn’t anger that bubbled up this time. It was resignation.

You left that night, not with a dramatic goodbye, but with a simple bag and a note left on the kitchen counter.

“I love you, but I can’t keep losing myself in a family that doesn’t want me.”

The days without you passed unnoticed at first. Bruce buried himself in his work, assuming you needed time to cool off. The Batkids carried on as usual, their lives too busy to miss the quiet presence you’d once provided.

It was Alfred who noticed first—the meals left uneaten, the flowers on the windowsill wilting. “Sir,” he said carefully one evening, “she’s not coming back.”

Bruce stopped mid-step, his expression flickering. “She just needs time.”

But days turned into weeks, and the absence became impossible to ignore. The manor felt colder, emptier. Jason snapped more often, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. Tim’s focus wavered, his mistakes piling up in a way they never had before. Damian trained harder, his strikes sharper, but there was a new tension in him, an unease he wouldn’t voice.

“She left us,” Damian said one night, his tone sharp but brittle. “That’s on her.”

“No,” Dick said quietly, guilt heavy in his voice. “It’s on us.”

Bruce found you three weeks later, living in a modest apartment far from the grandeur of Wayne Manor. The door was locked, but that had never been an obstacle for him. He let himself in, his imposing frame filling the doorway as you stood frozen in the kitchen.

“Bruce,” you said, your voice tight.

“Come home.” His tone was soft but firm, the same voice he used to give orders in the field.

Your laugh was bitter, hollow. “Home? That place hasn’t felt like home in years.”

His jaw tightened, the only sign of his frustration. “You belong there. With me. With them.”

“I belonged there once,” you said, your voice breaking. “But I spent years trying to love a family that couldn’t love me back. Do you even realize how much it hurt, Bruce? To be invisible in my own home?”

He stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “I didn’t see it. I should have. But I’m here now.”

“Too late,” you whispered, tears spilling over.

But Bruce Wayne was not a man who gave up easily. His hand reached out, brushing against yours. “You think I’ll let you go that easily?” His voice dropped, a dangerous edge slipping into his tone. “You’re mine. You always have been.”

You pulled away, shaking your head. “You don’t love me, Bruce. You love control. You love having someone waiting for you. But I won’t be that person anymore.”

The silence between you was heavy, suffocating. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go. But Bruce was nothing if not persistent.

“You’re coming home,” he said, his voice soft but unyielding.

Before you could respond, his hand shot forward, pressing a syringe into your arm. The sharp sting was followed by a wave of dizziness, and your legs buckled.

“Bruce,” you gasped, your vision swimming as he caught you.

“It’s for your own good,” he murmured, his arms cradling you as darkness pulled you under.

(A/n: this is why I don't take money 😅 writing shi asf 😔🔥 chat did I cook or am I cooked?)

[thewitchblue]

Bruce isn't actually a playboy to the dismay of others. His wife is a shapeshifter and simply changes skins to keep up the reputation. Whenever someone comes to the door or she goes to a gala to support Bruce, she changes into a new person, unable to keep her hands off him as he gives whoever he's speaking to a smirk.

He wanted to flaunt her around, but he needed to keep Batman as far away from Bruce Wayne as he possibly could. This was the only way they could kill the rumours before they began. Nobody would suspect a playboy to be a fighter period, let alone be Batman.

It was actually her idea to use the playboy act to keep Batman's identity away from Bruce Wayne. They would never suspect Bruce Wayne. The closest the public has gotten to solve the masked vigilante was saying they are friends because of how linked Bruce is to the police. Even then, the rumour was killed quickly.

That didn't make keeping her a family secret easy, however. The boys nearly told the public multiple times because of how excited they were to have a mom like Batmom. If Bruce didn't intervene, Batmom would have been exposed, and it would have been all over the news. They are keeping her secret until they absolutely have to reveal her.

That all changed when the Justice League arrived at Wayne Manor after the heroes found out about his contingency plans. It was a trust exercise. One Bruce wasn't happy about, but he considered it necessary.

Nobody knew about her or her shapeshifting (which was the coolest thing ever to the kids) except their family. Batmom was kept a guarded secret and loved deeply by both of the kids she helped adopt so far.

The boys quickly learned to keep her a secret after a couple of close calls in interviews. Not even their friends knew of her. She always wore a different skin when they were around and acted all embarrassed about being caught as another fling.

Batmom waved to them as Bruce was giving them a tour. She was relaxing in the kitchen with Alfred. They were having a pleasant conversation that Batmom considered more engaging than the heroes. She assumed they would simply look the other way and dismiss her as another woman Bruce Wayne managed to reel in. After all, this is her regular skin. A skin she rarely wore outside the Manor.

"Woah, who is this?"

Barry asked Bruce with a flirtatious smile. Bruce glared at the speedster as he made his way to his wife's side.

"My wife."

He replied with a voice that promised violence if the heroes attempted to flirt with her. He pulled out a necklace that held his wedding ring on it and held her hand. She was his, as much as he was hers, and he'll be dammed if someone stole the best thing to ever happen to his family.

"You have a wife?!"

Oliver questioned loudly. Bruce quirked a confused eyebrow at Oliver. His friend seemed stunned. The playboy Bruce Wayne has a wife, and nobody knows about her?

"I see you with a new woman constantly. When did...this happen?"

With a timid smile, his wife waved her hand while shape-shifting into an entirely different woman. She changed her entire appearance. Hair, clothes, eyes, even her face and body type were different.

"This happened ten years ago, Oliver."

The heroes had never been more surprised. The cold, bad Bat had such deep love for his family that he couldn't even keep the adoration off his face when he looked at her.

Just as they began to digest the fact Batman is married, an excited seven-year old child came sliding in with an older kid grinning behind him. They seemed to be in a game of tag before the older one launched the younger into Batmom's arms with a massive grin on his face.

The woman giggled as she caught him, twirling in a circle while tossing him in the air until he, too, fell into a fit of giggles. She held him like Simba from the Lion King for a moment to show him off before holding him normally. She peppered kisses all over his face with a smile until he began squirming in her arms.

She grinned at her boys. They were her everything. She adopted them quickly after she married Bruce. The boys were excited to have a full family, so they agreed immediately to the adoption. They were her boys from day one.

She decided to show little Jason mercy, apparently as she stopped her affection attack. However, she kept him in her arms, not wanting to let him go just yet. She turned back to the heroes in normal clothes with a beautiful smile.

"Oh, baby birds, say hello to Bruce's colleagues."

Suddenly, both young boys were attempting to hide with shy smiles. Even the extroverted Dick was timid at first. Neither of them were used to the type of attention they got whenever they went out with Bruce. Not even Dick, who was a performer.

The elder of the two wrapped his little arms around her waist, which caused her to ruffle his hair affectionately. Suddenly, the heroes all understood why Bruce fell hopelessly in love with the mother in front of them.

"Wait, wait, wait, you kept a shapeshifter from us?!"

Barry asked. His brain seemed to finally compute the facts in front of him. He blinked rapidly at the happy family. Never in a million years would he ever think the Batman could be a family man with a wife and children. Batmom casually said,

"I'm afraid that's my own decision, Barry. We all agreed it would be for the best that I was a secret. We tried to keep the boys a secret, too, but they both seemed to have... other plans." She, quite honestly, never even considered fighting. Sure, she could, but her life was with her boys and Bruce.

A playful smirk played on her lips as she looked at her children as they sheepishly smiled back.

Jason squirmed in his mother's arms and hid his face in her shoulder. He was still getting used to the unconditional love everyone in the family gave him.

With a gentle kiss on the top of Jason's head, she finally sets him down only for Bruce to pick him up again and place him on his shoulders. Tiny Jason squawked in protest. Dick snickered at his mother's side, still partially hiding behind her.

She smirked and playfully bumped him with her hip. Her family is her life, and she plans to keep them as close to her as possible. The League watched Batman and their Batmom play together with grins. They loved Batmom already.

[itsswritten]

butterfly kisses

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K (honestly it's just a little drabble)

Warnings: 18+, implied smut, lots of fluff, mating frenzy

Summary: Azriel just can't get enough of your wings <3

Wings Universe - More from this world.

Azriel wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky.

He had thanked the Mother every day since the bond snapped, and even more when you accepted it. When Mor had introduced you into his life only a couple of years ago, he never imagined this would be the outcome.

Azriel vividly remembered the first night he met you. It was another gathering at Rita’s, one of the many that had unfolded, now peace settled over the land. 

Mor with playful determination had pulled you over to their table, arm looped around yours– almost in a way that said she wasn’t going to let you escape. He had noticed the faint blush that creeped up your face to your pointed ears, merely from the proximity of your High Lord and Lady, and their inner circle. He recalled how you offered a shy little curtsy in their presence, that had led to the whole table stifling their laughter. Rhys kindly explained that such formalities were not necessary, especially not in Rita’s of all places. Azriel did his best to contain his mirth at the display, all the while chewing the inside of his cheek to stop the chuckle leaving his lips. He truly couldn’t get over how adorable you were, he'd found himself captivated by your endearing innocence. 

And that was only the start.

Mor explained how she’d met you in town one day and had essentially thrusted her friendship onto you, and it really didn’t take long for Azriel and his family to do the same. 

You were so sweet and caring, and slotted into Azriel’s life so easily that he found it hard to remember a time when you weren’t there at all. Your kindness towards the Archeron sisters, guiding them through the intricate transitions of fae life that they still at times struggled with. Nyx was absolutely enamoured with you, oftentimes seeking your company over his actual family. But they didn’t blame him, because they all did same. Your calm sweet nature was addictive to them all, especially Azriel.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Azriel found himself seeking every opportunity to unravel all your layers. He wanted to know everything about you. From your favourite foods, to the books that captured your attention.

His infatuation all made sense when the bond snapped. 

It was the last solstice.

Azriel had noticed how beautiful you were looking, as you always were. But you were clad in a breathtaking pale pink summer dress, the neckline delicately showcasing your décolletage. As you moved with a natural grace, the fabric billowed ever so slightly at the waist, accentuating your silhouette in a manner that held attention.

Or at least held Azriel’s attention. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

He watched you carefully navigate the chaos of the room. Nyx in one arm, giving Feyre some rest and reprieve in her pregnant state. Your other hand bringing in the cake Elain had spent all morning baking. Amidst the flurry of activity, you had been so close to dropping the cake. But Azriel's steady hand intervened just in time, grabbing the plate and taking it off you. Except in that moment your hands touched, grazed past one another in a way they had so many times before. 

But that time had been different.

It was Azriel’s turn to almost drop the cake. That all consuming warmth flooded his chest catching him off guard. A golden thread connecting itself to you. The mating bond. Finally.

And based on the bright red flush covering your cheeks, it was clear you’d felt it too. You’d fled the room then, overcome with emotion and what this new revelation meant. 

Though, it didn’t take long for Azriel to coax you round.

Ever the gentleman, he courted you. Taking you on the most thoughtful dates and spoiling you with bouquet after bouquet of flowers. He would leave little love notes and poetry for you to find. That it was really no surprise to anyone, when you decided to accept the bond.

That was only three weeks ago now.

Yourself and Azriel were deep in the mating frenzy. 

Rhys had kindly offered one of his private residences he had on the outskirts of Night. A smaller cottage, but with all the privacy you both needed. And Azriel had taken advantage of that privacy eliciting sounds from you that he would cherish forever and never tire hearing.

And then there were your wings. 

You had revealed them to him the first night after accepting the mating bond, and, Gods, was he done for.

Azriel had taken it upon himself, in the earlier months, to really vet you. His dedication to his role as Spymaster served as a guise for his self-indulgent exploration of you, delving into the intricate details of your being with a hunger that bordered on obsession. Not only had he discovered all the things you love, but he searched for details of who and what you were.

Finding himself holed up in the library at times, hours spent devoted to aquainiting himself to the type of fairy you were. 

He knew you had wings, was the type of fairy whose wings were the delicate kind. Most kept them concealed with magic. Yet, Azriel couldn't shake the thought that perhaps they were hidden not only for protection but also out of reverence for their breathtaking beauty. They were mesmerising. Enough to trap Azriel into some kind of trance. 

And perhaps possessively so, he was grateful not many males were privy to this part of you.

He was watching you now, laying on your front. Bare. Just how he’d left you when he took a moment to freshen up. You were giggling, your legs up and feet fluttering behind you while propped up over something.

“What are you doing, my love?” Azriel purred inquisitively, stepping closer towards the bed.

“Oh…Feyre was just checking in. Asking how much longer we might be,” he could hear you smile when you spoke, and watched as with the brush of your hand the magical parchment and ink disappeared that you’d been conversing with Feyre on.

“It’s not even been that long,”

“We’ve been gone three weeks–”

“And we’ll be gone 300 hundred more,”

You chuckled at his response, “Az, we do need to go back at some point. They need us.”

“I need you more.” There was no negotiating. Your family would be lucky to see you both before the next solstice at this rate.

Not that Azriel needed the frenzy to be satiated by you, but it truly was driving him. The primal need for you, overwhelming. The pair of you only stopped when you both fell into a slumber from exhaustion. And even then, there were many times you found each other in a sleep exhausted haze, tangled within and inside one another again.

The bed dipped either side of your legs, you were still on your front but could feel your mate over you. He had paused though, his eyes falling over your beautiful pink wings. The iridescent skin reflecting lights across the room. He had almost cried when he first saw them after you accepted the bond, mesmerised and overwhelmed by their beauty.

Getting to see this part of you, a part of you that was so private, stirred a gratefulness inside him. But there was something else too, a possessiveness that had slowly been creeping up his mind recently.

In the past three weeks, you had both done every possible maneuver, tried every kind of love making– fucking, screwing, mating. You’d even made him a crumbling wet mess just from playing with his wings. 

But he hadn’t touched yours.

No, they looked so delicate and soft, too beautiful to touch, that he hadn’t dared. 

You felt him situate himself behind you, his warm naked body lightly laying on you, his chest resting on your behind. His arms wormed their way under your hips to get comfy, and you splayed your wings flat against your back to fit him.

“Az?” you asked curiously, glancing slightly over at your shoulder to catch him in your peripheral.

He didn’t respond though, not with words. You felt his soft warm breath blowing on the membrane of your right wing, making your squirm under the touch. Your wing fluttering a little in the air.

“How sensitive are they? Too sensitive for me to touch?” You heard him behind you.

“Hm..” you tilted your head slightly to think, “They’re delicate, but you can touch them. Gently.”

You were waiting for him to wriggle his hand from out beneath you but instead you felt something warm and wet run against the bottom of your wing.

You couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping your lips at the soft touch. Azriel had taken it upon himself to use the tip of his tongue to explore this part of you, a part of you that was still very new to him. He felt you wriggle under him, and he shifted placing his full body weight on you so you couldn’t move.

His tongue traced the ridge of your wing, and he wasn’t letting up. Not when he’d made that sound from you. He wanted more of that. He moved and pressed his tongue flat against the delicate skin, evoking another moan from you.

“Does that feel good my little butterfly?” he purred, you could feel the smirk on his lips against your wing as he pressed a kiss on them.

You wanted to roll your eyes at his teasing, but it felt too good to do anything other than surrender to his touch.

“I want to hear your words,” he spoke a little more assertively this time, before swiping  his tongue along one of the tubular lines that spread like veins across your wings.

“Yes..” You huffed, before another moan slipped past your lips breathlessly. “It feels good Az…” You felt your body heat, your cheeks for sure rosy, grateful your mate could only hear not see the reaction he was having on you. 

He chuckled softly then, the vibrations from his lips skirting across your wings making them twitch.

“My sensitive little butterfly, ” the new nickname only made you squirm more, your core growing slick at his predatory attention.

Azriel moved his hand then, the one caught under your left hip, so effortlessly moving down to your core, cupping your wet slit as he licked the pink shiny membrane again. 

“Azriel…” you gasped, but his touch didn’t relent.

You knew this was only the start.

a/n: just some lovely little fluffy mating frenzyness! I just love these two, so I may expand a little more on the wings universe and their relationship if you guys would like to see that! Maybe some domestic bliss, or if there's any scenes you'd like me to write for them or parts of their story you're interested in then I'm happy to explore. Also this was written fairly quickly, so please ignore any typos, I only did a quick little check hehe - Lottie

p.s. also thanks to @thisiskaylin who inspired the nickname! She commented on the wings fic that butterfly would be the perfect nickname and I just had to use it <3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

[tubbytarchia]

Doc and Jimmy brainrot part 1 lmao oh no

Basically "What if Doc was in the Life games and Jimmy triggered his parental instincts again". You guys will see my vision. I don't care what it takes. You will see this very specific vision I have god damn it if it's the last thing I do

This is all I have to use as propaganda right now but some ideas and justification below cut!!

Been imagining a lot of Doc/Jimmy interactions both in a traffic and HC context, both of which I'd love to draw for but obvs this for now is 3rd life and I want to draw a little something for each Life series. You'll see!!

The general idea is inspired by a moment from one of the Decked Out streams in which Jimmy calls for Etho and Doc's all "you're triggering my parental instinct... I wanna take you into my hand and take you to a safe place" yep that's it that's the whole inspiration!!

Jimmy deserves love and he does get it to various degrees ofc (Tango, Bad Boys etc) but man... It's so fun to me to imagine Doc in traffic, I think he claimed that he didn't want to be part of the life games because he was afraid of being too competitive (or so I heard), but god it's so fun to imagine big scary mad scientist goat man in that scenario and him probably going at it on his own a lot of the time, but this god forsaken mf Jimmy knows exactly how to unintentionally trigger his parental instincts. I want Doc to subtly take Jimmy under his wing especially as Jimmy keeps dying first. So maybe Jimmy is a bit incompetent and loud as far as he knows, but he sees that he's trying his best and the dad in him can't help but intervene just a tiny bit (and I do mean just a tiny bit) as the games go on. Yes I'm just gonna shove Doc into the Life Games just because I wish this dynamic could have happened and I beg you to put up with it!!

For the above drawing specifically since, sigh, I'm slow and that's all I have to offer rn... it's of course 3rd life, starting off. I imagine Jimmy's wings sprouting during that, because the whole "canary curse" began with the Life Games etc. And this post isn't about FH but just for context as I imagine it, Scott who doesn't like unpredictability convinces him to clip his wings (thanks Bree) because Jimmy's not a proper avian (unlike Grian who has a more "airborne" body, bird feet etc rather than just... wings) and he'd never be able to take flight anyway, those wings would only encumber him. (And then Jimmy keeps clipping them himself until DL Ranchers but cough this post isn't about that). I imagine the avians (for my specific roster, just Grian) have their wings magically clipped anyway just enough to prevent flight and make the games fair. Doc ofc isn't avian himself but he knows that Grian greatly frowns upon the act of willingly clipping wings so when he sees that Jimmy's quickly growing wings have been clipped as well, he can't help but ask, because why would that be necessary while his wings are so small anyway? And Jimmy's response triggers a wee bit of fatherly concern in him but thats it for 3rd life woo

For the rest I just wanna draw more tiny moments of interaction until I get to Secret Life, I guess!! The brainrot is really fucking strong guys

[ikkyfics]

Between Us

Dave Lizewski x reader x Todd Haynes

Summary: “I… I can’t choose.” “But… what does that mean?” he asked, leaning forward a little without even realizing it. “I mean…” You stopped, searching for the right words, even though your mind seemed unable to process anything beyond their proximity. “I mean I like both of you. In different ways, maybe, but… I can’t imagine choosing just one.”

Warnings: explicit language, mention of jealousy, mention of possession, multiple kisses, unconventional relationship dynamics, provocative language, light smut, sexual tension

A/N: I would be mentally, physically and emotionally incapable of choosing just one

my beloved @gingerteafairy, thank you for our conversations - seriously, girl, I love you <333

Masterlist

The evening was supposed to be relaxed, but Marty’s absence changed the tone of everything. You, Dave, and Todd were inseparable, and Marty, with his easygoing and carefree manner, always served as a kind of natural mediator for the other two. But now, as you walked towards Todd’s house, it was impossible to ignore the nervousness that was growing in your chest. Without Marty there to cushion the interactions, it would be just you in the middle of Dave and Todd—the two so different, yet equally irresistible. The thought already made the butterflies in your stomach dance.

The couch seemed even smaller than usual. You were squeezed between them, feeling the heat of their bodies so close. To your left, Dave, with his dark curls and blue eyes shining behind his glasses, held the bowl of popcorn with both hands, his fingers brushing against your arm with every movement. To the right, Todd, all relaxed with his messy brown hair and dimples marking his smile as he leaned casually on the couch, his knee almost touching your leg. There seemed to be not enough space for everyone, and the proximity created a palpable tension.

"Okay, let's settle this once and for all: better mentor—Batman or Superman?" Todd asked, with that challenging tone and a smile that seemed to carry a hint of provocation.

"Batman, for sure," Dave answered without hesitation, adjusting his glasses. He turned slightly towards you, as if seeking support in your answer. "He's a strategist, he has resources, he trains people. He doesn't rely on powers. It's about discipline, sacrifice."

Todd laughed, leaning forward and bringing his face even closer to yours. "Oh, right, because being a traumatized millionaire is super inspiring," he said mockingly, and the glint in his dark eyes was almost hypnotizing. "Superman, without a doubt. He's genuine, he really cares about people, and he doesn't need all that paraphernalia to be amazing."

You tried to focus on the discussion, but it was hard when the two seemed to be fighting for your attention with every sentence. Dave's gaze was steady and almost intense, while Todd's had that easygoing charm that made your heart race.

"I… I think they both have valid points," you said, trying to sound neutral, but the hesitation in your voice betrayed your nervousness.

"Oh, there's no point in avoiding the issue," Todd teased, smiling as he lightly patted your leg, his hand staying there a second longer than necessary. "C'mon, you know you're Superman."

"Don't let that get to you," Dave intervened, his voice calm but filled with a seriousness that made you stare at him for a moment. "Think about what really makes sense. It's not just about sympathy."

You tried to laugh to lighten the mood, but your mind was elsewhere. The proximity of the two of them, the looks, the small touches… It was as if each gesture was loaded with a tension that you didn't know how to deal with. For a moment, you let yourself be carried away by your daydreams — Dave holding your hand sweetly, his eyes shining behind his glasses as he whispered something that only you could hear. Or Todd, with that carefree smile, leaning his forehead against yours and making you laugh at something silly before losing yourself in his warm gaze.

The sound of the movie brought you back to reality, and your face heated up as you realized the direction your thoughts had taken. You quickly looked away to the TV, but not before noticing that Dave was watching you attentively, as if trying to decipher what you were thinking.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice low and full of concern as he leaned in slightly.

"Yeah, sure," you answered hastily, but you felt Todd chuckle softly beside you.

"Yeah, but now you're blushing," Todd commented, his dimples showing off his smile. "Or did Batman make you like that?"

"It's nothing," you repeated, trying to sound more convincing, but it was useless. The tension in the air felt palpable, and Dave and Todd's close proximity made your mind race in all the wrong directions—or maybe right, depending on how you looked at it. Dave's arm behind you was a constant warm presence, and his fingers always seemed on the verge of brushing the back of your neck, sending subtle shivers that you pretended to ignore. On the other side, Todd maintained his relaxed posture, but his knee pressed lightly against your leg said something else, a small gesture that seemed much bigger in this context.

“Relax, we’re just teasing you,” Todd said, an easy smile on his lips as he reached out to grab a handful of popcorn. The movement brought your shoulder up against his, and the warmth of the contact made you hold your breath for a moment. He seemed to notice, and he glanced at you sideways, somewhere between amused and… attentive.

“It’s no big deal, you know,” Dave added, his voice a little softer. “You might like Superman better. But then… you’d be wrong.” He laughed lightly, and the sound made something in your chest tighten. He had that shy, awkward way about him, but when he spoke with confidence, it was impossible not to notice. He adjusted his glasses quickly, his eyes fixed on the screen for a few seconds before shifting to you.

You tried to focus on the movie, but his every move seemed amplified. The way Dave shifted his weight from side to side, his knee pressing into the couch and leaning slightly toward your side, or the way Todd casually rested his arm on the side of your leg, his fingers almost touching your bare thigh. It was all more intense than it should have been.

When you shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, you ended up relaxing a little and leaning back, letting your shoulders lightly brush against theirs. The closeness was inevitable, but now you could no longer ignore the way their bodies felt so close, so warm. You tried to rationalize it—they were your friends, it was just the tight couch, nothing major. But your heart had another opinion, beating faster with each small movement they made.

Todd leaned forward to reach for the remote on the coffee table, and the movement caused his arm to brush against yours with a gentleness too deliberate to be accidental. "I think the next movie has a really clichéd kissing scene," he commented casually, but there was a hint of teasing in his tone that made your skin crawl.

Dave looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Seriously? What movie doesn't have a kissing scene?" He tried to sound nonchalant, but there was a subtle stiffness in his posture that didn't go unnoticed.

"Oh, I don't know," Todd replied, shrugging with that annoyingly charming smile. "Some people like that kind of thing. I can tell who." His gaze met yours for a moment, and you felt your face heat up, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to divert attention from yourself. "Oh, please, that's like… mandatory in any movie," you muttered, feeling the weight of both their gazes on you.

When the fateful scene finally arrived, you held your breath. On the screen, the characters exchanged intense glances before kissing, and the mood in the room seemed to change instantly. The silence that followed was so heavy that you could swear you could hear the sound of hearts beating—including your own. Todd and Dave’s gazes were fixed on the screen, but you knew they were aware of the tension, too. How could they not be? The room felt smaller, the couch tighter, and the air heavier.

Without thinking, you shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure of the moment, but ended up pushing your knee against Todd’s, who glanced at you quickly, a smile on the corner of his lips. “Enjoyed the scene, huh?” he teased, but his voice was huskier than usual.

“It’s just… well done,” you replied, swallowing hard.

Dave shifted beside you, adjusting his glasses again, his dark curls falling over his forehead as he looked down at you. “Clichés can be good sometimes,” he said, his voice low but filled with something that seemed deeper. “It depends on how they’re done.”

The silence between you felt alive, almost pulsing, as the movie scene played out, but no one was really paying attention. Your heart was pounding, and you knew it wasn’t because of the dramatic soundtrack on the screen. Every movement they made around you seemed choreographed to move you. The light brush of Todd’s arm against yours, the almost casual adjustment of Dave’s body to your side—it all felt calculated, even though you knew it probably wasn’t. Or was it?

“So…” Todd broke the silence, his tone playful but with something more underlying. He looked at you, his dark eyes shining with that carefree charm that seemed so natural to him. “If that were you on screen, who would you kiss?”

You nearly choked on the popcorn you weren’t even eating. “What?” Your nervous laugh came out more like a sob, and you tried to look away, but his face was so close, and Dave’s expression on the other side was just as intriguing.

“Between the two of us,” Todd continued, shifting slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees, the closeness creating a tension that was impossible to ignore. “Who would you kiss?”

Dave shifted beside you, clearing his throat. “Seriously, man? What kind of question is that?” He tried to sound casual, but there was something in his voice, something that gave him away. He looked at you with those clear blue eyes, like he wanted you to say something—or maybe say nothing at all.

“Oh, come on,” Todd insisted, his smile growing, but his eyes fixed on you with intensity. “It’s just a question. Friendly. We’re friends, right?”

You laughed again nervously, your hand automatically going to your hair as you tried to stall for time. “I… don’t know. That’s… weird.” But your mind was far from neutral. The idea of ​​kissing either of them—both of them, if you were being honest with yourself—was something you had definitely considered, even if it was just a passing thought. Or not so passing.

Todd chuckled softly, but this time it sounded softer, almost like he was challenging you. “Okay, let’s make this easier. Have you ever kissed anyone?”

The question took you by surprise, and it took you a second to answer. “I have… I mean, yes. Once or twice.” Your voice came out lower than you intended, and you felt heat rise up your neck.

“Me too,” Todd replied casually, leaning back and resting his head on the couch again. “Nothing too serious, you know? Just… experimenting.”

Dave was silent for a moment, and you could tell he was nervous. His curls looked messier than usual, and he fidgeted with his glasses before speaking. "I… never, actually. Not really, anyway."

The room grew even quieter, if that was possible. Without realizing it, your eyes drifted to his lips, pink and soft, achingly inviting. He tried to hide it with an awkward shrug, his cheeks flushing as he caught your gaze. "It's never happened. Not with anyone who… mattered."

"Wait," you began before you could stop yourself, your voice sounding louder than you intended. "Never? Really?"

He nodded, and there was something so honest, so vulnerable in his expression, that it made your heart clench. You felt the words slip out before you could process them. "I could… you know. I could be your first kiss."

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. Dave looked at you as if he wasn't sure he'd heard you right, his lips parted in surprise, and Todd, on the other side, sat up straighter, his smile fading for a moment.

"Would you do that?" Dave asked, his voice lower, almost hesitant.

“Sure,” you replied, trying to sound casual but feeling the words tremble on your lips. “That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?”

The silence after Dave’s confession felt almost tangible, so thick you could feel it in the air around you. Todd broke the tension with a soft laugh, but unlike any previous teasing, there was no cynicism there. It was almost… curious, as if he was genuinely interested in what was coming next.

“So you’re really going to kiss him?” he asked, his eyes fixed on you, filled with something that made your breath catch. It wasn’t just curiosity; it was intensity, desire. He was watching your every move, as if he wished he were in Dave’s place.

Your face burned, and you looked away, only to be met with the restless blue of Dave’s eyes. He looked just as nervous as you, but there was something else there too: anticipation. And maybe a little newfound courage.

“If he wants to…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible, biting your lip in anticipation.

“I want to,” Dave replied immediately, surprising even himself. He took off his glasses, tossing them on the coffee table, a gesture that should have seemed awkward but only made your heart race even more. “I mean, if you want to too.”

You nodded, almost mechanically, and then came the moment of truth. The two of you began to shift, trying to adjust yourselves on the tiny couch. Todd’s arm brushed against yours as he leaned in slightly, clearly not wanting to miss anything. Knowing he would watch this made your heart skip a beat.

“Let me give you some space,” Todd said, his voice low but still filled with that intense curiosity. He leaned back, his eyes never leaving you. You felt every inch of the couch, every brush of fabric, every ragged breath.

Dave turned his body toward you, and you did the same, your knees almost touching. Your hands were shaking a little, so you rested them on the couch to hide it. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop.

You were the one who moved first, your fingers gently cupping his cheek as you moved even closer, until there was no space between you.

The first touch of his lips was shy, hesitant. You felt his softness and caution, and your heart skipped a beat. You pressed your lips more firmly against his, your tongue asking for entry to venture into his mouth. Dave seemed to relax, leaning in more, returning the kiss with a confidence you never imagined he had.

You sighed against his lips, the world around you disappearing as he held your waist firmly, pulling you closer. Your hands found his shoulders, and suddenly you were on his lap, without even realizing how it had happened. The kiss was no longer shy. It was intense, almost desperate, as if you had both been waiting for this moment without knowing it.

You moaned against his mouth as you felt his hands grip your ass, pressing you tighter against him. Shit, how could he say he’d never kissed anyone? Your fingers quickly found his curls, tugging at them until you heard a scratchy noise in his throat.

You could barely think, barely breathe, but none of that mattered. You lost yourself in the warmth of his body, in the way he seemed to hold you like he’d never let you go.

A soft sound made you open your eyes suddenly, and there was Todd, clearing his throat slightly. You pulled away from Dave, both of you still breathing heavily, and looked at Todd. He was leaning forward again, his dark eyes fixed on you, shining with something that seemed like a mix of teasing and pent-up desire. You felt overly aware of your own body, your face hot as you realized Dave’s hands were still on your ass, but you did nothing to push them away.

“So,” Todd began, his tone light but with a hint of something that made your stomach churn, he shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "If you had to choose, I think Dave would be your choice, don't you?"

You remained in Dave’s lap, the feel of his hands around you almost comforting. But Todd’s words made your heart beat faster in a different way. You looked up at him, your lips still tingling from the kiss, and spoke before you could stop yourself.

“I’d kiss you too,” you said, your voice low but clear. “If you just asked.”

Todd’s eyes darkened immediately, and you saw a slow smile form on his lips, revealing those adorable dimples that always got to you. Dave was silent, but you could feel the tension in his body, as if he was processing what he had just heard.

Todd kept his gaze fixed on you, his expression filled with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. He tilted his head slightly to the side, as if trying to comprehend what you had just said. “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice deep and lower than usual, filled with a tension that you could feel in the air.

Your heart felt like it wanted to escape your chest, but you held his gaze, even as your cheeks burned with embarrassment and anticipation. You nodded, almost imperceptibly, before blurting out, in a whisper that seemed too loud in the silence, “Ask.”

The word hung between you like a challenge, like something you couldn’t take back. Todd chuckled softly, a deep sound that reverberated through the cramped couch. “Okay,” he said, leaning forward a little. “Then kiss me.”

Your stomach knotted with anxiety and excitement as you slid off Dave’s lap, feeling slight tremors in your legs. Todd’s eyes were fixed on you, following every movement as if he were under a spell. Dave, on the other side, remained silent, but the weight of his gaze was almost tangible.

When you were finally in front of Todd, kneeling on the couch, he gripped your waist firmly, pulling you onto his lap with an ease that made your heart race. Unlike Dave, Todd didn’t hesitate. He held you as if he already knew exactly what he wanted to do, and the first touch of his lips was intense.

You sighed, still tasting Dave in your mouth as Todd kissed you. His hands quickly moved down to your hips, adjusting you on his lap until you were straddling him.

You could hardly believe what was happening. Todd’s grip was different—firmer, more possessive. His hands slid around your waist, holding you with a confidence that made your entire body respond, as if you were made to be there.

The kiss was deep, almost desperate, and the world around you disappeared in a blur. You felt the heat of his body, the way he tilted his head to intensify the contact, the way he made you writhe on his lap.

His hand slid around your waist, without hesitation before squeezing your breast. Your thin bra offered no resistance against the heat of his fingers. “Todd,” you whimpered, feeling something flare inside you when he grunted his approval.

Your mind was spinning, torn between the intensity of the moment and the disbelief that this was actually happening.

When you opened your eyes for a moment, trying to catch your breath, you saw Dave watching you. He was fascinated, his lips slightly parted. His expression was a mix of surprise and… something else.

You didn’t have much time to process. Todd took advantage of the moment to slide his other hand to your hip, pulling you even closer. You didn’t protest, returning to the kiss with redoubled intensity, your hips moving against his every now and then unconsciously. The kiss didn’t have the same softness as Dave’s. It was intense, almost rough, but in a way that made you lose yourself completely.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. All you knew was that when you finally pulled away, the silence seemed even more deafening. Todd’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his dark eyes fixed on hers, as if trying to read every thought that passed through her mind.

And then came Dave’s voice, breaking the spell. “So… him too, huh?”

You blinked, your lips still tingling from the kiss, and turned to face Dave. He didn’t look angry or hurt, but the intensity in his gaze was hard to ignore. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come out. Todd chuckled again, sliding his hands to rest on your waist.

“Let her breathe, Dave,” he said, his tone casual but still filled with something that made your skin crawl.

The silence in the room was so thick it felt like a physical presence. You could feel the heat of Todd’s hands still resting on your waist, and at the same time, Dave’s gaze burning into you. You didn’t dare look directly at him; you knew your mind was already a mess and that staring into those vibrant blue eyes would only make things worse.

Todd, on the other hand, seemed more relaxed, but the tension in his shoulders gave away that he was just as affected as you were. The way he held you, as if he was trying to memorize the moment, made your heart beat even faster.

Dave was the first to break the silence. “So… you really don’t have a favorite?” His voice was low, almost hesitant, as if he were treading unfamiliar territory.

You felt your face heat up even more. It was almost impossible to believe you were having this conversation, but after what had just happened, pretending nothing had changed seemed ridiculous.

“I… I can’t choose.” The confession came out in a whisper, and you almost wished you could swallow the words back. But it was the truth. “It’s impossible.”

Todd arched an eyebrow, a slow smile forming on his lips. “Impossible, huh?” He seemed to be enjoying seeing you so nervous, but his eyes didn’t give a lie. There was something else there, something deeper that he wasn’t willing to hide.

Dave, on the other hand, looked conflicted. He shifted on the couch, as if trying to find a comfortable position—and failing miserably. “But… what does that mean?” he asked, leaning forward a little without even realizing it.

His approach didn’t go unnoticed. You felt the space between the three of you shrink even further, the heat from your bodies almost suffocating. Todd seemed to notice it too, but he didn’t say anything, just kept his hands firmly on you, as if he was marking his territory.

“I mean…” You stopped, searching for the right words, even though your mind seemed unable to process anything beyond their proximity. “I mean I like both of you. In different ways, maybe, but… I can’t imagine choosing just one.”

The admission hung in the air like a bomb about to explode. Dave opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your throat dry.

Todd, however, laughed softly, the sound making your skin crawl. “So you’re saying we both have a chance?” He tilted his head to the side, as if challenging you.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I just know I like you. Both of you. And it confuses me, because… because I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Dave finally spoke, his voice firmer this time. “What if you didn’t have to choose?”

Your heart almost stopped. What did he mean by that? The look in his eyes left no doubt: he was serious. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your chest hurt, but also something that seemed determined, like he had already accepted the idea before you had.

Todd let out a short laugh, but it didn’t seem like he was mocking. He looked at Dave, then back at you, his eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite decipher. “That sounds like an interesting idea.”

You felt the air leave your lungs in a shaky breath. The couch felt even smaller, their bodies pressed against yours, each movement sending shocks through your body.

Dave, without realizing it, had moved even closer, until he was right next to Todd. His hand hovered in the air for a moment before landing softly on your leg, tracing lazy half circles on your thigh that made your skin crawl.

“Are you serious?” you asked, your voice thick with nervousness and disbelief.

Dave nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah. Maybe… maybe we don’t have to do this the traditional way.”

The intensity of the moment seemed to overwhelm every one of your senses. The heat of Todd’s body pressed against yours, his hands firm on your waist, and Dave’s gaze burning into your face were almost too much to bear. And yet, there was something incredibly addictive about the charged atmosphere, as if you had fallen into a fever dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

Dave seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of nervousness and determination. But you couldn’t wait any longer. Before you could regret it, you leaned toward him, one of your hands landing on his shoulder as you pulled him into a kiss, never leaving Todd’s lap.

His lips were soft, hesitant at first, as if he was still trying to figure out what was happening. But that only lasted for a moment. As soon as Dave felt the firmness of your mouth against his, he seemed to gain confidence. The kiss deepened, becoming more intense. His hand moved up to your face, his fingers tracing your jaw in a touch that sent waves of heat through your body.

And even as you lost yourself in the kiss with Dave, Todd’s presence could not be ignored. His hands on you seemed almost possessive, his thumbs making lazy circles on your skin, as if he wanted to remind you that he was there too. The contrast between the two of them was mind-blowing: Dave’s gentle touch, the almost desperate kiss, and Todd’s steady strength, keeping you anchored in the moment.

And it was somewhat impossible to ignore the growing bulge in his pants, pressed deliciously against your pussy.

When you finally pulled away from Dave, your breath was caught in your throat, your lips tingling with the intensity of the kiss. Your eyes met his, so blue and intense that you almost lost yourself again.

But there was no time to process anything. Before you could even catch your breath, Todd was in motion. He leaned forward, his hand rising to the base of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss of his own.

The initial shock gave way to a wave of electricity that coursed through your body. Todd’s kiss was completely different: firm, almost fierce, as if he were trying to claim something he thought was his. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t leave room for doubt. The hand on the back of your neck held you in place, while the other squeezed your breast, his thumb teasing the hardened nipple.

You couldn’t help it. A gasp escaped your throat, and you leaned even further against him, your fingers gripping Todd’s shirt as you tried to find some kind of balance. Your body felt incandescent, as if every cell was vibrating with the intensity of the moment.

And at the same time, you still felt Dave. His gaze was palpable, burning into your skin, and when you opened your eyes for a brief second, you found him watching you with something between fascination and desire. It was impossible to ignore the tension he carried too, the way his hands were clenched into fists on the couch, as if he was fighting the urge to pull you back.

Todd finally pulled away, but not completely. He rested his forehead against yours, his heavy breathing mingling with yours. “What now?” he murmured, his voice husky, filled with something that made your heart race even faster.

You had no answer. Or maybe you did, but you were lost in the heat of them, in the whirlwind of emotions that seemed too much to bear.

It was Dave who broke the silence, his voice low and filled with something that seemed to be a mix of nervousness and determination. “This isn’t just a game to me.”

You stared at him, his words piercing through the fog in your mind. He sounded so vulnerable, so sincere, that it made something inside you clench. But before he could say anything, Todd spoke, his voice filled with quiet confidence.

“Not even for me.”

The weight of their words fell on you, almost overwhelming. It was impossible to deny how attracted you were to both of them, how being between them felt… right. Even if it was insane. Even if it was something you had never imagined.

“I…” You began, but your voice faltered. You looked from one to the other, feeling the intensity of their gazes, feeling as if you were in the middle of something much bigger than you could comprehend. “I…” you began again, feeling your throat dry, the words stuck somewhere between your mind and your lips. You looked at Todd, whose hand was still firmly on yours, as if he feared you would disappear. Then at Dave, who looked so vulnerable and, at the same time, filled with an intensity that made your skin tingle.

“How… how would this work?” you finally asked, your voice low, almost a whisper, as if you didn’t want to break the moment. But the question was there, hanging in the air between you, filled with tension, anticipation and something you barely dared to name.

Todd arched an eyebrow, a slow, almost challenging smile curving his lips. "Do you really want to know?" he asked, his tone low and heavy, as his fingers traced lazy circles on your waist.

Dave swallowed hard, but nodded. "Yeah… I think we need to talk about it. If… if everyone is really thinking the same thing."

You laughed softly, almost in disbelief, tasting the kisses still fresh in your mouth. "I can't stop thinking about it. How you guys taste… how it feels… right." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and a blush quickly rose to your face.

Todd let out a low laugh, somewhere between amused and pleased. "Then we're on the same page."

Dave looked less sure, but his hand moved toward yours, his fingers brushing against yours. The touch was hesitant, but full of meaning, as if he was trying to find the courage to move forward. "I just… I want to make sure this is something you want too. That we all want."

You looked from one to the other, your heart racing. "I do. But… what about you?"

Todd leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. "I think my actions have made that pretty clear."

Dave shook his head, a small, almost shy smile curving his lips. "Yeah. I do. But I haven't… I've never done anything like this before."

"Me either," you admitted, a blush heating your face.

Todd let out an amused sigh. "Well, it seems I'm the only one here who's ever thought outside the box. But it doesn't have to be complicated."

As he spoke, you noticed the three of them were leaning toward each other without realizing it, as if the growing tension was pulling them closer. The heat of their bodies around you was almost suffocating, but in a good way, in a way that made your skin crawl, as if the blood in your veins had been replaced by liquid fire.

“So… what happens now?” you asked, your voice low, almost trembling with anticipation.

Todd opened his mouth to answer, but Dave was quicker. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that quickly gained intensity. You felt his hands cup your face, his touch firm but incredibly tender.

But before you could completely lose yourself in the kiss, you felt Todd move. His hands on your waist gently pushed you back onto the couch. The newly imposed distance made a complaint arise in your mind, but it was quickly replaced by a sigh as you felt him position himself behind you. In ecstasy, you realized that you were trapped between them. The couch creaked in response, but no one showed concern.

You wrapped your arms around Dave’s neck, feeling his chest crush your breasts. You were still kissing him when Todd pressed his lips against the curve of your neck. Your back pressed firmly against his chest.

The world seemed to spin. You couldn’t separate one sensation from the other—the heat of Dave’s kiss, the firmness of Todd’s touch, the two merging into a whirlwind that made your head spin. When Dave finally pulled away, panting, it was Todd who took his place, pulling you into a kiss that was completely different: firm, full of control, but equally devastating.

The moment Dave’s lips brushed Todd’s was like time had stopped. Neither of you moved, your eyes wide as surprise hung in the air. You held your breath, feeling the weight of tension triple around you. There were no words, just the muffled sound of rapid breathing and the heat of your bodies so close together.

“That… was…” Todd began, but the sentence trailed off, replaced by a low sigh. He looked disconcerted, his eyes fixed on Dave, but there was no hostility there. Only confusion and something that felt like… curiosity.

Dave, for his part, looked equally stunned, the blush rising quickly to his face. “I… didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible, full of embarrassment.

But Todd, instead of responding with words, let out a short, husky laugh, more of a whisper than an actual sound. “Relax, man. It was just an accident,” he said, but there was something about the way he looked at Dave—a mix of teasing and consideration that made him seem far more intrigued than he should have been.

You watched them, feeling trapped between them, both physically and emotionally. Their closeness was almost suffocating, but in a way that made your skin tingle. “Are you guys okay?” you asked, trying to diffuse the rising tension, but your own voice came out low and shaky, betraying what you really felt.

Todd looked at you, then back at Dave, before letting out a deep sigh. “Yeah. We’re fine.” He raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed on you now. “What about you?”

“I… don’t know,” you admitted, laughing nervously, leaning against Todd’s chest as you tried to catch your breath. “This is all very… intense.”

Dave ran a hand through his hair, clearly still processing what had just happened. But instead of pulling away, he leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours. “But… well, it doesn’t feel wrong. Does it?”

You shook your head slowly, feeling your heart hammer in your chest. “No. It doesn’t.”

And, as if your words had broken some invisible barrier, Dave leaned in again, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that felt more urgent this time. His hands slid down your body, leaving a trail that seemed to burn your skin, before settling back on your ass, squeezing hard enough to make a moan bubble past your lips.

Before you could pull away, you felt Todd’s hands on your waist again, firm and warm, deliberately moving up until they cupped your soft breasts, kneading them gently through your thin blouse. The couch felt too small to hold all of you, your bodies moving together in an awkward but harmonious rhythm.

When Dave finally pulled away, panting, it was Todd who took his place, turning your face back for a kiss that was completely different—firmer, more demanding, almost as if he were trying to prove something. His hands teased your aching nipples, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

And then, before you could completely lose yourself in him, Dave was there again. The initial shock seemed to have faded, replaced by a strange, silent acceptance. They didn’t talk about what it meant, just went with the flow of the moment, the touches and kisses becoming a language of their own.

When you were too breathless, lost in the feeling of an insistent poke in your belly and another in your ass, your eyes closed for a moment. Just registering the moment, the way the heat had enveloped your body, the way you were deliciously pressed against each other.

“This is… insane,” you murmured between kisses, your voice broken by sighs as you tried to keep up with their movements.

“Maybe,” Todd replied, his voice low and husky against your ear. “But it feels right.”

Dave nodded, his fingers still firmly on your ass, adjusting it against his own growing bulge in his pants. "I never imagined… but, yes. It feels right." The three of you moved as if they were one, a tangle of hands and mouths, each touch, each kiss charged with an intensity that bordered on delirious.

You felt as if you were floating, trapped in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations that you couldn't and didn't want to control. Their tastes mixed together, their touches were a perfect blend of firmness and care, and the world around you disappeared completely. There was no room for doubt or regret—only the growing heat between you and the certainty that, somehow, it all made sense.

The insistent sound of a cell phone vibrating cut through the heavy air of kisses and panting breaths, but no one really seemed to care. Todd’s lips were on the curve of your neck, leaving kisses that sent shivers down your spine, while Dave held your face in a firm hand, his fingers brushing the line of your jaw as his lips took yours again.

You tried to focus, but the constant vibration seemed to grow louder and louder, almost like a reminder that was impossible to ignore. “My… my phone,” you managed to mumble, but your voice came out low, almost breathless, lost between the ringing and the heat radiating from both of them.

Dave let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a protest, his lips leaving yours just enough to murmur against your skin, “Ignore it.”

Still, you reached out with difficulty, trying to find the phone, while their caresses made it difficult to even breathe.

“Let it ring,” Todd suggested, his voice husky and low against your skin, as he left a soft bite on the side of your neck.

Dave let out a small laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “It shouldn’t be that important,” he added, but the intensity of his lips returning to meet yours told you he clearly didn’t care.

You finally managed to pull out your phone, and the name on the screen made your stomach sink for a moment: Dad. Taking a deep breath—or at least trying to, because Todd hadn’t yet taken his lips off of you—you answered. “H-hey,” you managed to say, but the word came out in a shaky whisper, your voice cracking with the heat in your body.

“Daughter? Is everything okay? You seem out of breath,” your father said on the other end of the line, concerned.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice slurred and shaky as Todd took the moment to place another kiss on your neck, this time with a teasing bite that made you let out a small muffled sound before you could stop yourself. Dave arched an eyebrow, a lazy smile on his lips. “I’m… I’m at Todd’s,” you said quickly, trying to sound casual, but your heavy breathing gave you away.

“Are his parents there?” your father asked, a hint of suspicion in his tone.

You hesitated for a moment, but felt Todd smile against your skin before whispering, "Say yes."

"Yes," you lied, the word coming out too quickly. "They're… t-they're in the... living room," you finished, stuttering slightly as Dave ran his hand down your side, his fingers tracing a warm line on your skin.

Your father seemed to consider the answer for a moment before continuing. "I just wanted to let you know that your uncle is here. He came as a surprise and really wants to see you. Come home when you can."

"My uncle?" you asked, your mind in a haze. Todd's soft bite on your neck and Dave's lips brushing your collarbone made it impossible to fully focus. "Oh… sure. I'll… I'll come back," you said, but the words came out broken, almost like a sigh, which only seemed to heighten the interest in Todd and Dave's eyes.

"Is everything really okay, honey? You're sounding… weird," your father observed, his tone more serious now.

"Yes, I'm… tired," you replied, trying to sound convincing, but another sigh escaped when Dave pressed a firmer kiss to your shoulder, and you had to bite your lip to hold back any sound.

"Okay, then come back soon. Don't be long," he said before hanging up.

You dropped your phone on the couch with a shaky hand, trying to compose yourself as Todd tilted his face up, his eyes shining with mischief. “You lied so well,” he teased, his voice low and full of amusement.

“I could barely speak,” you admitted breathlessly, your lips still tingling from the kisses.

“Maybe because we didn’t let you,” Dave said, smiling as he tilted his head for another kiss, his fingers already firmly on your waist.

“I have to go,” you murmured, though you weren’t sure if you believed it.

“Do you really?” Todd asked, his fingers stroking the back of your neck slowly and deliberately.

You didn’t answer. Or maybe you couldn’t, because Dave pulled you closer, and soon you were lost in them again, every touch, every kiss, making it seem like the world outside that couch didn’t exist.

The knowledge that you had to go was coming back like a slow but inevitable tide. You were there, between them, each kiss and touch so captivating that the world seemed to have stopped. Still, the weight of the cell phone in your hand and your father's voice echoed in your mind, reminding you that you had to get out of that feverish paradise.

With an effort that seemed almost superhuman, you began to move away, your body hesitating with every inch lost between the three of them. Dave, who had his fingers intertwined in the curve of your waist, tried to keep them there for a moment longer, while Todd, with his lips still so close to your skin, let out a hoarse sigh of dissatisfaction. "Are you sure you have to go?" he asked, his tone low and loaded with something that made your legs threaten to give out.

You nodded, although your hands still instinctively sought their touch, almost as if they were acting on their own. "I… I do," you answered, but your voice came out shaky, as if the very act of speaking convinced you otherwise.

Before you could stand up completely, you leaned in, leaving a soft kiss on Todd's lips, enough to feel the slight roughness he had, so familiar now. He smiled against your lips, almost challenging, as if he was sure you would change your mind.

When your eyes met Dave's, something sparked between you. You moved closer, hesitant but determined, and his fingers soon rose to your face, firm and gentle, guiding you for another kiss. Unlike Todd's, his was a mix of intensity and tenderness, something that made your chest tight with conflicting emotions.

As you pulled away, panting, you saw the two exchange a brief, almost complicit look, before turning their focus back to you. The marks they left began to burn lightly on your skin as you adjusted yourself to get up, and it was only when you absently ran your hand over your neck that you realized the damage they had done.

Your face blushed violently. “You… left marks,” you murmured, your voice tinged with embarrassment and something else they probably noticed too.

Todd tilted his head, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “And you left yours too,” he replied teasingly, indicating the place where your own fingers had previously grazed his neck.

Dave laughed, a low, comfortable laugh. “Good luck explaining that,” he said, his tone laced with amusement but also something you couldn’t quite decipher.

Still dazed, you gathered your things, feeling their eyes follow your every move. When you finally reached the door, Todd was the first to stand, walking towards you with that familiar relaxed confidence. He leaned in for one last kiss, quicker this time but no less intense, as if he wanted to prolong the moment for just a second longer.

Dave approached soon after, his gaze warm and amused. “See you later,” he said, his fingers brushing your hand before he leaned in for another kiss. "See you," you replied, the word almost swallowed by the confusion of emotions dancing inside you. When you finally left, you could still feel their lips on yours and the marks, now not only on your skin, but also on your heart.

The door closed with a soft click, leaving Dave and Todd alone in the room. For a moment, silence reigned, interrupted only by the sound of their still uneven breathing. They threw themselves on the couch, their clothes slightly wrinkled and the marks of what had happened written on their faces — swollen lips, messy hair, and an unsettling glint in their eyes.

Todd was the first to break the silence, letting out a low, almost incredulous laugh. “Dude… what the fuck just happened?” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more as he looked at Dave, his eyes still filled with a mix of amusement and surprise.

Dave was still processing everything, his gaze fixed on the door as if he expected you to return at any moment. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice coming out hoarse, almost choked. He brought a hand to his face, as if he needed to make sure he was still there. “That was… completely insane.”

Todd tilted his head back, letting out a long sigh, before looking at Dave with a smile that was half teasing, half pure fascination. “You do realize we just kissed the same girl, right? Like… fuck, while she was between us. That’s better than any porn I’ve ever seen.”

Dave blushed immediately, but didn’t try to deny it. “Yeah, I noticed, Todd,” he replied, his voice louder than he intended. He ran his hands over his face, desperately trying to make sense of it. “That was… different. And you didn’t even flinch,” he added, looking at Todd with a mix of accusation and something else.

“Neither did you,” Todd replied, a smirk appearing on his face. He shrugged, as if he was more comfortable with the situation than he should have been. “But seriously… did you feel it? Like, how she seemed to be… there with us? Not between us, but… part of it?”

Dave couldn’t help but remember the way their bodies seemed to mold together, as if everything made some strange, unexpected sense. “I felt it,” he admitted, reluctantly but honestly. “And that’s what makes me so confused.”

Todd turned to face Dave directly, his smile fading as he spoke more seriously. “So… what do we do about this? Because, man, I can’t just… pretend it didn’t happen.”

Dave shook his head slowly, his eyes returning to the couch, where minutes ago everything had happened. “Me neither,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He licked his lips, as if he could still taste her. “I think we need to… talk to her about it. See what she thinks.”

Todd laughed lightly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, because this isn’t going to be weird,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. But the smile that followed was genuine. “If there’s one thing that’s clear, it’s that she’s just as lost in this as we are.”

Dave nodded slowly, his fingers drumming against his leg. “Do you think she… feels the same way? Like, that this is something that could work?”

Todd shrugged, but there was a strange confidence in the gleam in his eyes. “Only one way to find out, right? But man, if I know her well enough… I’d say she was as comfortable with us as she seemed.”

Dave stared at Todd for a long moment before finally letting out a shy smile. "This is crazy, Todd. You know that, right?"

Todd laughed, louder this time, throwing his head back. "Of course it is, man. But if we're going to do something crazy, at least it's with her."

They were silent after that, both lost in their own thoughts. But deep down, one thing was clear: whatever had started in that room, it wasn't something they were willing to abandon any time soon.

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° always picking a fight

( alexis ness x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — i love ness so here's ts i wrote at 1:30 AM ( MANGA SPOILERS FOR MOST RECENT CHAPTER )

♡ word count — 1.1k

♡ content — alexis ness x fem! reader, fem! reader, established relationship, hinted that ness and reader have known each other for a while, kaiser's an ass, kaiser and reader fighting, violence ( reader slaps kaiser )

♡ synopsis — There was only two ways to describe Alexis Ness—loyal to a fault, and yours completely.

Alexis Ness thinks you’re insane.

Because who in their right mind would walk up to the star of Bastard München, Michael Kaiser, and slap him? Who would storm past the press, security, and their own boyfriend to get in the face of The Emperor himself?

But here you are—eyes blazing, voice steady despite the storm brewing in your chest—standing toe-to-toe with Michael Kaiser like you’ve got nothing to lose.

And then your hand strikes his face, sharp enough to leave a faint red mark blooming across his cheek.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you spit, words laced with venom. “How dare you talk to him like that?”

Kaiser barely flinches, though the press of his tongue to his cheek betrays his surprise. “Excuse me?” he says, voice dripping with condescension, his gaze flicking past you to where Ness is awkwardly hovering. “Ness, is this your girlfriend? You should teach her some manners.”

Your glare sharpens, and Ness stiffens behind you, already moving to intervene. “Kaiser, let’s not—”

“No, Alexis,” you cut him off, your voice slicing through the tension like a knife. “Let’s not pretend this is okay.” You take a step closer to Kaiser, finger pointed at his chest. “Do you think you’re untouchable? That you can just say whatever you want and everyone’s supposed to bow down and take it? You told him to quit soccer. Do you know how hard he’s worked for this? How much he’s given up just to stand on the same damn field as you?”

Kaiser smirks, the kind of infuriating grin that makes your blood boil. “Oh, please. If he’s so delicate that one comment from me shakes him, maybe he should quit. I don’t have time to babysit dead weight.”

“Dead weight?” you echo, incredulous. “You’re one to talk. You’d be nothing without someone to pass you the ball. Or did you forget that soccer is a team sport, Your Highness?” The tone you spoke the nickname full of nothing but sarcasm and distain.

Ness steps forward, his voice soft and pleading. “(Y/N), please, it’s fine. I—”

“It’s not fine!” you snap, turning briefly to look at him, your expression softening for a fraction of a second before you whip back around to face Kaiser.

“You’re not fine. You’re allowed to make mistakes, Alexis. You’re human, no matter how much this prick thinks he’s better than everyone else.”

Kaiser raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Wow, Ness, you’ve got yourself a firecracker. Tell me, do you keep her on a leash, or does she just run wild?”

' Oh. ' Ness thinks.

" Oh ?" You say, your eyes narrowing and before you can think twice, your hand raises again, but Ness catches your wrist just in time. “(Y/N), stop,” he murmurs, his voice strained but gentle. “It’s over. Let’s go.”

For a moment, you’re frozen, chest heaving with anger, your glare still locked on Kaiser. But then you see the way Ness’s shoulders are hunched, how his eyes are darting to the ground as if he’s trying to make himself smaller.

And just like that, the fight drains out of you.

You let Ness guide you away, your hand still trembling in his. You can feel Kaiser’s smug gaze burning into your back, but you don’t look back.

The walk back to your shared apartment is silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. Ness doesn’t say a word, and neither do you. You’re still fuming, but the anger isn’t directed at him.

When you finally step inside, the silence feels suffocating. Ness closes the door softly, setting his bag down by the wall, and you shrug off your coat with more force than necessary.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ness asks quietly, his voice cautious, like he’s testing the waters.

You shake your head, avoiding his gaze. “No.” Your voice is thick with emotion, the one syllable wavering as you hid your face from him.

But he knows you better than that. He always has.

He’s seen this pattern too many times—how your fiery outbursts always burn brightest when you’re protecting someone you love, and how the aftermath leaves you raw and vulnerable. He knows you’re trying to hold it together, but the cracks are already showing.

“(Y/N)...” Ness starts, his voice hesitant. He takes a tentative step closer, watching you carefully, like you might break if he moves too fast.

“I’m not crying,” you blurt out, your voice shaky.

His lips press into a thin line. “I didn’t say you were.”

You let out a bitter laugh, and that’s when the tears start to spill, hot and unrelenting. “He shouldn’t talk to you like that,” you choke out, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve any of it.”

Ness is by your side in an instant, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle but firm embrace. “Hey, hey,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not,” you whisper, burying your face in his chest. “You just don’t want to say it. You’ve always been too nice, too... loyal. Even when people don’t deserve it.”

He sighs softly, resting his chin on top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart ache. “I didn’t mean to make you so upset.”

You pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him through tear-filled eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do. That’s the problem, Alexis. You let people like that shaggy haired fuck walk all over you, and it’s not fair.”

He brushes a tear from your cheek with his thumb, his touch impossibly gentle. “I don’t care what Kaiser thinks of me,” he says softly. A lie, and you both know it.

“I care about you. And seeing you like this... it hurts more than anything he could ever say to me.” Alexis Ness had taken many verbal lashings from Kaiser, but nothing would hurt him more than seeing you hurt because of him.

You sniffle, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “I just... I hate seeing people treat you like you’re nothing. Because you’re everything to me, Alexis. You always have been.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, his eyes searching yours. Then he pulls you close again, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

“Yes, you do,” you reply fiercely, your words muffled against his chest. “You deserve everything, Alexis.”

The two of you stand there in the quiet of your apartment, holding each other as the weight of the day slowly starts to fade. You know the fight isn’t over—not with Kaiser, not with the world—but in this moment, it doesn’t matter.

All that matters is the way Alexis holds you, steady and unwavering, as if he’s trying to absorb all your pain and make it his own.

And maybe he is. Because that’s just who Alexis Ness is—loyal to a fault, and yours completely.

is ness also batshit crazy? sometimes, but i think he'd be more vulnerable with a gf

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[novaursa]

A Lion's Folly (the brave)

- Summary: A story where a lion falls for the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you.

- Pairing: stark!reader/Jaime Lannister

- Note: Keep in mind how the canon timeline and plot may be altered to suit this story.

- Rating: Explicit 18 + (for blood, gore, death, violence and suggestive themes)

- Previous part: sins

- Next part: absolution

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround

The days bleed into one another as the small group travels deeper into the wilderness, avoiding the main roads to evade prying eyes. The terrain grows rougher, with thick forests and uneven paths that force them to move slower. Jaime feels every ache in his body, but he keeps his complaints to himself. For once, his sharp tongue is tempered—not by fear, but by something far more unsettling: you.

You walk ahead of him, leading the way with Winter at your side. The direwolf pads silently, his coat blending into the pale underbrush. Every so often, Winter glances back at Jaime, his icy blue eyes filled with suspicion, as if he’s waiting for the slightest excuse to tear him apart. Jaime smirks faintly at the thought but knows better than to provoke the beast.

You’ve grown quieter as the days pass, your icy demeanor softening slightly into something more tolerable. You still don’t speak to him unless necessary, but the edge of your anger has dulled. Jaime doesn’t know if it’s because of exhaustion or sheer indifference, but he finds himself craving any scrap of interaction with you, no matter how small.

Brienne, ever the vigilant guardian, remains stoic and watchful, her eyes constantly scanning the woods. She speaks little, her focus unwavering as she ensures their path is safe.

The sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the forest floor, when you finally call for a stop.

“We’ll camp here tonight,” you say simply, gesturing to a small clearing nestled between thick trees.

Brienne nods and begins unpacking their limited supplies. Winter circles the clearing once before settling near you, his menacing gaze never leaving Jaime.

As the fire crackles to life, the three of you sit in a loose triangle around it, the silence thick and oppressive. Jaime leans back against a tree, his hands still bound but resting in his lap, his smirk faint as he watches you tend to Winter.

“You’re remarkably silent tonight, my lady,” he says after a moment, his tone light but tinged with genuine curiosity.

You glance at him briefly, your expression unreadable. “Maybe you should follow my example,” you reply coolly.

Jaime chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Ah, but silence doesn’t suit me. You should know that by now.”

Brienne sighs heavily, clearly tired of his antics, but doesn’t intervene.

“Tell me,” Jaime continues, his gaze lingering on you, “does it ever get easier? The grief?”

Your hand stills on Winter’s fur, and for a moment, the firelight reflects something raw in your eyes. “Why do you care?” you ask, your voice quieter now, though still guarded.

“I don’t,” Jaime admits, his smirk faltering slightly. “But I’ve seen enough grief to know it doesn’t fade. It just… changes shape.”

You don’t respond immediately, your fingers brushing absently through Winter’s fur as the firelight dances across your face. Finally, you speak, your voice low but steady. “It’s not something you’d understand, Lannister.”

“Maybe not,” Jaime replies, leaning forward slightly. “But I do know something about loss. About guilt.”

You meet his gaze then, your eyes cold and piercing. “Don’t talk to me about guilt. Not after what you’ve done.”

Jaime exhales, leaning back against the tree. “Fair enough,” he says quietly.

The silence stretches again, broken only by the crackling fire and the distant rustle of leaves. It’s Brienne who finally breaks it, her tone calm but firm. “We should rest. We’ll need to cover more ground tomorrow.”

You nod, rising to your feet and moving to check your gear. Winter follows, his presence a constant shadow at your side. Jaime watches you go, his chest tightening with something he can’t quite name.

As Brienne begins to settle in for the night, Jaime speaks again, his voice softer now. “You know, I always respected your father.”

Brienne looks up abruptly, but it’s you who turns first, your gaze hard and unforgiving.

“Don’t,” you say, your voice like steel.

Jaime doesn’t stop. “Ned Stark,” he continues, ignoring the warning in your eyes. “He was… honorable, to a fault. A rarity in men like us. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

Your fists clench at your sides, but you don’t respond, your jaw tight.

“Do you think he’d approve of this?” Jaime asks, gesturing faintly to the group. “Of you traveling with the likes of me?”

Your voice is cold when you finally reply. “My father’s approval doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead. Because of men like you.”

Jaime swallows hard, your words cutting deeper than he expected. “You’re right,” he says after a long pause, his tone quieter now. “And if I could change it, I—”

“You can’t,” you snap, cutting him off. “So stop pretending like you care.”

The camp falls silent again, the animosity thick enough to choke. Jaime doesn’t speak after that, his gaze fixed on the fire as his own guilt festers inside him.

As the night deepens and the fire burns low, Jaime lays back against the tree, his eyes on the stars above. Your words echo in his mind, a constant reminder of the weight he carries.

And though he doesn’t say it aloud, he knows you’re right. He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness. But that doesn’t stop him from wanting it.

The air is crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and damp earth. Jaime sits near the smoldering remains of their morning fire, his hands still bound but his posture relaxed, watching Brienne as she meticulously checks her gear. You had left earlier with Winter to hunt, leaving the two of them behind.

Jaime finds the silence unbearable.

“Do you ever take that armor off, Brienne?” he drawls, tilting his head as he studies her. “Or is it part of you now? Perhaps it’s hiding something you’d rather keep a mystery.”

Brienne stiffens but doesn’t look at him. “You’ll find no amusement here, Lannister. Keep your mouth shut.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Jaime presses, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re so stern all the time. Doesn’t it get exhausting? Or is that how you woo the men of Tarth? With that charming scowl?”

Brienne finally looks at him, her blue eyes cold as ice. “You’ve made it clear you have no honor, Kingslayer. I see no need to engage with you further.”

Jaime chuckles softly, leaning back against the tree. “Ah, but you already have. That’s the thing about you, Brienne—you care. Even when you shouldn’t. It’s admirable, really. Foolish, but admirable.”

Before Brienne can respond, a sound cuts through the stillness—a faint rustle in the underbrush. Brienne’s hand immediately moves to her sword, her keen gaze scanning the forest. Jaime stiffens, his smirk slipping as the noise grows louder.

Then they appear.

The Brave Companions emerge from the trees, their mismatched armor and cruel faces unmistakable. Vargo Hoat leads them, his twisted smile revealing his rotting teeth. The sight of him sends a chill down Jaime’s spine, though he hides it well.

“Well, well,” Vargo says, his voice grating as he steps forward. “What have we here? The Kingslayer himself, traveling with a lady knight. A curious pairing, no?”

Brienne rises to her full height, her sword drawn in an instant. “Leave, now. You’ll find no easy prey here.”

Vargo laughs, a sound that sends a ripple of unease through the forest. His men spread out, circling the clearing like wolves. Jaime counts at least a dozen, all armed and dangerous.

“You’re outnumbered,” Vargo says, his grin widening. “Put down your sword, woman, or we’ll take it—and your head—with it.”

Jaime watches the scene unfold, his mind racing. Brienne’s grip tightens on her sword, her stance unwavering, but even he knows the odds are against her.

“Brienne,” Jaime says quietly, his voice devoid of mockery for once. “Don’t be stupid.”

She doesn’t respond, her focus entirely on the men before her.

Jaime’s heart pounds in his chest, but not for himself. His thoughts turn to you, somewhere out in the forest with Winter. For the first time in a long while, Jaime finds himself praying—not to the gods, but to fate itself.

Stay away. Don’t come back. Don’t let them find you.

“Take him,” Vargo orders suddenly, gesturing toward Jaime. Two of his men step forward, their weapons drawn.

Jaime doesn’t resist as they grab him, though his smirk returns faintly. “You’ll regret this, goat,” he says, his voice dripping with disdain.

“We’ll see,” Vargo replies, his grin never faltering.

Brienne moves to intercept them, her sword flashing in the fading light. She takes down one man with ease, her movements precise and deadly. But the others close in quickly, overwhelming her with sheer numbers.

Jaime struggles against his captors, his chest tightening as Brienne is forced to her knees.

“Stop!” Vargo commands, and his men freeze. He steps closer to Brienne, his twisted grin widening. “You’ll fetch a fine price, woman. Perhaps even more than the Kingslayer.”

Jaime spits at Vargo’s feet, his voice sharp. “Touch her, and I’ll make sure your death is slow.”

Vargo laughs, clearly unfazed. “You’re in no position to make threats, Lannister.”

As the Brave Companions begin binding Brienne, Jaime’s thoughts return to you. He can only hope you’ve gone far enough into the forest to escape their notice.

Stay away, he thinks again, the words almost a plea. Don’t let them find you.

But the forest is silent, offering no assurances.

Jaime stumbles slightly as they march, his wrists raw and unsteady now that his hands are free from the chains that had bound them. His steps are slow and measured, but his gaze keeps darting to the dense tree line, scanning for any sign of you—or worse, Winter.

He doesn’t want you here. The thought of you stumbling into this chaos, of seeing you captured or worse, is unbearable. The sharp bite of fear twists in his chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome.

Behind him, Brienne trudges silently, her hands bound tightly, her face bruised but unbroken. The set of her jaw and the fire in her eyes tell Jaime that she hasn’t given up. Yet the odds are stacked against them, and even her famed strength feels like little more than a flickering candle against the storm that is Vargo Hoat and his band of butchers.

Vargo rides alongside them, his crooked smile ever-present. The sound of his grating voice breaks through the crunch of boots and hooves on the forest floor.

“Kingslayer,” Vargo calls, his tone mocking. “You look troubled. Perhaps you miss your father’s castle, eh?”

Jaime keeps his expression neutral, though his gaze remains fixed on the trees. “And what of it, goat? Are you taking me to him? I imagine Tywin Lannister would pay handsomely for his son’s safe return.”

Vargo lets out a harsh laugh, the sound as unpleasant as nails on stone. “Safe return? No, no, no. That is not our plan. Your father’s gold may be great, but there are others who will pay more for you—and her.”

Jaime glances over his shoulder at Brienne, who glares at Vargo with pure hatred.

“And who might that be?” Jaime asks, his voice tight.

“Lord Bolton,” Vargo replies, his grin widening. “He is very interested in the Kingslayer and his lady knight. He will reward us greatly for delivering you both to Harrenhal.”

Jaime’s jaw tightens. Roose Bolton—a man whose reputation for cruelty and cunning rivaled even his father’s worst enemies. The news twists the knot in his stomach even tighter.

“Ah,” Jaime says, forcing a faint smirk despite the unease coursing through him. “So I’m to be handed over to a man who skins his enemies alive. Charming. I suppose this is my lucky day.”

Vargo chuckles again, clearly enjoying Jaime’s discomfort. “Lucky, yes. You will see what Lord Bolton has in store for you soon enough.”

Jaime doesn’t respond, his mind racing as he considers their fate. The chances of escape seem slimmer with every step, and his thoughts inevitably circle back to you. Were you far enough away when the Brave Companions attacked? Did Winter sense the danger and keep you from returning?

“Kingslayer,” Vargo snaps suddenly, his gaze locking onto Jaime. “You keep looking at the trees. What are you so distracted by? Hoping for rescue?”

Jaime forces a laugh, though it rings hollow even to his own ears. “Rescue? Hardly. I’m just admiring the scenery. It’s not often I get to see the wilderness in all its… muddy glory.”

Vargo narrows his eyes, unconvinced. He leans forward in his saddle, studying Jaime with a calculating look. “You’re hiding something,” he says slowly, his grin fading into suspicion.

“I’m hiding nothing,” Jaime replies smoothly, though his hands clench involuntarily at his sides. “But if it keeps you entertained, feel free to keep guessing, goat.”

Vargo sneers, his gaze lingering on Jaime for a moment longer before he turns his attention back to the path ahead.

Behind him, Brienne speaks for the first time since their capture, her voice low but firm. “If you have a plan, Lannister, now would be the time to share it.”

Jaime glances back at her, his smirk returning faintly. “A plan? Do you think I’m hiding an army in these woods, waiting to spring us free?”

“You’re always scheming,” Brienne retorts, her blue eyes blazing. “Don’t play coy with me.”

Jaime exhales sharply, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “The only plan I have,” he says quietly, his gaze drifting back to the trees, “is hoping she stays far away from this.”

Brienne frowns. “Don’t speak of her aloud.”

Jaime spoke no more. Instead, he focuses on the path ahead, the rhythmic crunch of their steps blending with the rustling of leaves.

As they march deeper into the forest, Jaime’s mind refuses to quiet. He can’t shake the image of you standing with your bow drawn, Winter at your side, ready to face down anyone who threatened you. The thought should bring him comfort, but instead, it fills him with dread.

Because if you came back, if you appeared now, Jaime knows there’s nothing he could do to protect you. And the thought of losing you—of watching you suffer because of him—feels like a fate worse than death.

The camp is eerily quiet, the only sounds the crackling of a meager fire and the occasional rustle of the trees in the cold night breeze. Vargo’s men lounge around the clearing, their mismatched armor shining faintly in the firelight. Jaime sits to one side, his hands resting on his knees, Brienne not far behind him. His body aches from the forced march, but his mind is clearer than ever, his senses heightened by the dread that hangs in the air.

Something feels wrong.

The first scream shatters the stillness.

It’s a guttural, panicked sound, cutting through the night like a blade. Everyone freezes, heads snapping toward the trees where the noise originated. The firelight dances on the faces of Vargo’s men, their expressions shifting from irritation to alarm.

“What was that?” one of them mutters, his hand already on his sword.

Before anyone can respond, a figure is dragged into the shadows with terrifying speed. The man lets out a blood-curdling scream, his body thrashing wildly as he disappears into the dark.

“Get up!” Vargo shouts, his voice alarmed as he jumps to his feet. “To arms!”

The camp erupts into chaos as the men scramble for their weapons, their movements frantic and uncoordinated. Jaime watches, his heart pounding as he catches a fleeting glimpse of pale fur and glowing blue eyes in the shadows.

Winter.

“Seven hells,” Jaime breathes, his chest tightening.

Another scream pierces the night as a second man is attacked, his cries abruptly silenced by the sound of tearing flesh. The Brave Companions draw their weapons, but their fear is palpable, their movements clumsy.

“It’s a wolf!” one of them shouts, his voice trembling.

“No wolf is that big!” another yells back, his eyes wide with terror.

Winter moves like a ghost through the trees, his white and silver coat blending into the shadows as he strikes with lethal precision. Jaime can barely keep track of him, the direwolf’s speed and ferocity unlike anything he’s ever seen.

Vargo snarls, drawing his curved sword as he scans the darkness. “Kill it! Kill the beast!”

Before anyone can act, an arrow whistles through the air, striking one of the men in the throat. He gurgles, collapsing to the ground as blood pools beneath him.

“Archer!” someone shouts, pointing wildly toward the trees.

Another arrow flies, finding its mark in a second man’s chest. He stumbles backward, clutching at the shaft before crumpling to the ground.

Jaime’s breath catches as he realizes what’s happening. It’s not just Winter—it’s you.

A third arrow claims another victim, the chaos escalating as the Brave Companions break formation, rushing blindly into the woods in search of their unseen attacker.

“Stay together, you fools!” Vargo roars, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

Jaime’s eyes dart to the treeline, his heart racing. He knows you’re out there, somewhere in the shadows, and the thought both thrills and terrifies him.

Another scream echoes through the forest as Winter attacks again, his massive form taking down another man with ruthless efficiency. The clearing is now a mess of blood, bodies, and panicked shouting, the Brave Companions falling apart under the assault.

And then he sees you.

You step into the clearing, your bow in hand, your face illuminated by the flickering firelight. There’s a fierce determination in your eyes, your movements swift and precise as you draw another arrow.

“Y/N!” Jaime calls out before he can stop himself, his voice cutting through the noise.

Your gaze flicks to him for the briefest moment, your expression unreadable. But it’s enough of a distraction for Vargo to strike.

He lunges forward, grabbing you by the arm and yanking you back with surprising speed. Your bow clatters to the ground as you struggle against his grip, your face twisting in anger.

“Let me go!” you shout, your voice raw with fury.

Winter lets out a deep, guttural growl, his eyes locked on you as he moves to attack.

“No!” you scream, your voice desperate. “Run, Winter! Go!”

The direwolf hesitates, his massive form still and tense as he watches you.

“Run!” you shout again, tears glinting in your eyes as you thrash against Vargo’s hold.

Winter snarls once more, his gaze flicking between you and the Brave Companions before he turns and disappears into the trees, his silver form vanishing like a ghost.

“No,” Jaime mutters under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. He steps forward, but two of Vargo’s men grab him, holding him back.

“Enough!” Vargo snaps, his grip on you tightening. “The wolf is gone. And now we have her.”

Your breathing is ragged, your face pale but defiant as you glare up at him. “You won’t get away with this,” you say through gritted teeth.

Vargo laughs, the sound cruel and grating. “Oh, my dear, I already have.”

Jaime’s chest burns with fury and frustration as he watches you struggle, his mind racing for a way to intervene. But with his hands unbound and his guards distracted, he knows his moment will come.

For now, all he can do is watch as Vargo drags you with him.

The clearing is chaos. The fire crackles weakly, casting jagged specters over the carnage of bodies and blood. Vargo Hoat holds you firmly by the arm, his sickly grin widening as his men begin to realize just who he has captured. You continue to struggle against him, your breath ragged, but the defiance in your eyes burns brighter than the flames.

“Well, well,” Vargo sneers, his voice grating like steel on stone. “We’ve caught ourselves a Stark. A fine prize indeed. Imagine the price your brother will pay to get you back.”

Your struggles intensify, and in one sudden, vicious movement, you lunge forward and sink your teeth into the side of Vargo’s neck. The sickening crunch of flesh giving way is followed by a howl of pain as blood pours from the wound.

“You little bitch!” Vargo roars, shoving you back with such force that you stumble. He lifts his hand and strikes you across the face with a brutal slap that echoes through the clearing.

Jaime’s breath catches, his body going numb as you fall to your knees, clutching your cheek. Fury surges through him, hot and unrelenting.

“Get her in line!” Vargo snarls, his eyes wild as he presses a hand to the bleeding wound on his neck. “Or I’ll do it myself!” His next words drip with malice, his voice lowering. “Maybe a night in my tent will teach her some manners.”

Brienne struggles against the two men holding her, her teeth bared in a feral snarl. “You dare harm her, and I will kill you, goat!”

Vargo laughs, a twisted sound filled with cruelty. “You’re in no position to make threats, wench. But perhaps you’d like to join her. I hear the women of Tarth are… sturdy.”

Jaime’s patience snaps.

“That,” Jaime says suddenly, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade, “would be a very bad idea.”

Vargo turns to him, his eyes narrowing. “And why is that, Kingslayer?”

Jaime steps forward, his posture deceptively relaxed, though his smirk carries a dangerous edge. “Because she’s a Stark, you imbecile. Do you have any idea what Robb Stark will do if he hears you’ve so much as touched her? Let me enlighten you: he’ll behead every single one of your men. And you? He’ll save you for last. Maybe he’ll even let his direwolf eat you piece by piece.”

Vargo’s expression falters for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes before he sneers. “You think I fear the boy king in the North?”

“You should,” Jaime replies coldly. “The Starks are known for their vengeance. And trust me, you don’t want to find out just how far they’ll go for one of their own.”

The men around Vargo exchange uneasy glances, the weight of Jaime’s words sinking in. Even the most hardened among them seem to hesitate, their weapons lowering slightly.

Vargo hesitates, his eyes darting between Jaime and you. Finally, he lets out a growl of frustration, shoving you roughly to the ground.

“Fine,” he snarls, spitting blood onto the ground. “But keep her quiet. And if she causes any more trouble, she’ll regret it.”

Jaime moves to your side, kneeling as he places himself between you and Vargo. He doesn’t reach out to you—he knows you wouldn’t welcome it—but his presence is a silent reassurance.

“You’ll regret it if you touch her again,” Jaime says evenly, his voice low but filled with venom.

Vargo sneers but doesn’t reply, turning away to bark orders at his men. The tension in the clearing lessens slightly, though the atmosphere remains charged.

Jaime glances at you, your face pale but your eyes still burning with defiance. Blood trickles from your lip where Vargo’s slap split the skin, but you refuse to show weakness.

“You’re insane,” Jaime mutters, his tone somewhere between admiration and frustration.

“And you’re pathetic,” you snap back, your voice steady despite the trembling in your hands. “Don’t think this changes anything, Lannister.”

Jaime smirks faintly, though the expression doesn’t reach his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Brienne is finally released, her captors stepping back as she moves to stand beside Jaime and you. Her gaze flicks between you, Jaime, and the others, her grip on her sword tight.

“We need a plan,” she says quietly, her voice calm but urgent.

Jaime nods, his mind already racing. He doesn’t know how they’ll escape this mess, but one thing is certain: he’ll ensure you make it out alive, no matter the cost.

Because for the first time in years, Jaime Lannister feels something he thought he’d lost—a flicker of honor. And he’s not about to let it die here.

The camp has grown quiet, the earlier chaos fading into an uneasy stillness. The Brave Companions, though brutal, are not fools; they’ve doubled their watch, their muttered conversations filled with unease as they huddle around the dying fire. The woods seem to press closer, the shadows deep and impenetrable, a eerie reminder of the blood spilled earlier.

Jaime sits near the edge of the clearing, his back against a tree, his body aching but unbroken. His hands, though unbound, rest loosely on his knees, and he watches as Brienne, bruised but defiant, is seated under close guard across from him. Her eyes flick toward him briefly before returning to her captors, her posture one of quiet vigilance.

And then there’s you.

You sit a short distance away, your arms wrapped around your knees as if trying to keep yourself steady. Your face is pale, the faint bruise from Vargo’s slap barely visible in the dim firelight. Winter is nowhere to be seen, and Jaime wonders if the direwolf is still close, lurking just beyond the camp’s edge.

When you glance toward Brienne, your expression tightens, your gaze lingering on the bonds that hold her before finally shifting to Jaime. For a moment, you simply study him, your eyes narrowed in thought. Then you speak, your voice quiet but firm.

“Are you unharmed?”

Jaime raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I didn’t know you cared, my lady.”

You scoff, the sound cold and unimpressed. “I don’t. But you need to remain intact. If you’re not returned to the capital, my sisters won’t be returned safely. That’s the only reason I asked.”

Jaime chuckles softly, leaning back against the tree. “Ah, of course. My worth as a bargaining chip. Good to know where I stand.”

Your expression hardens, and you look away, your focus shifting to the forest beyond. “Just answer the question, Lannister.”

“I’m fine,” Jaime replies, his tone more serious now. “Though I can’t say the same for your goat friend. You left quite the impression on him.”

You don’t smile, though there’s a flicker of satisfaction in your eyes. “He deserved worse.”

Jaime nods slightly, his gaze steady on you. “That he did.”

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence, the crackle of the fire filling the space between you. Then Jaime speaks again, his voice quieter now.

“They’re taking us to Harrenhal,” he says, his smirk fading. “By any luck, Tywin will be there. Along with your dear friend Roose Bolton.”

Your head snaps toward him, alarm flashing across your face. “Bolton?”

Jaime tilts his head, watching you carefully. “Yes. Apparently, Vargo thinks Lord Bolton has some interest in us. I suppose he sees an opportunity to curry favor with both sides.”

Your brow furrows, your mind clearly racing. “Bolton is my brother’s bannerman,” you say, your voice tinged with confusion and disbelief. “What business would he have with Tywin Lannister?”

Jaime shrugs, though his eyes don’t leave you. “That’s the question, isn’t it? But if I were you, I’d start asking why one of Robb’s trusted men is even speaking to my father in the first place.”

The realization hits you like a physical blow, your eyes widening as the pieces begin to fall into place. You mutter something under your breath, too quiet for Jaime to hear, before clenching your fists at your sides.

“I have to warn Robb,” you say suddenly, your voice low but urgent.

Jaime watches you carefully, his smirk returning faintly. “And how do you plan to do that, my lady? You’re a prisoner now, in case you’ve forgotten.”

You glare at him, your jaw tight. “I’ll find a way.”

Brienne, who has been listening silently, finally speaks, her voice steady. “If what he says is true, your brother must be told. The Boltons have always been… different. But this would be treason of the highest order.”

“Treason?” Jaime interjects, his tone almost amused. “Such a quaint word. Let’s call it what it is: survival. Roose Bolton knows how this war will end. He’s simply choosing the winning side.”

You rise to your feet abruptly, pacing a short distance away as your thoughts churn. Jaime watches you closely, noting the hesitation in your movements, the fire in your eyes.

“I won’t let him betray my family,” you say finally, your voice firm.

Jaime leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “And what exactly will you do, Stark? You’re in no position to stop him. Neither am I, for that matter.”

You stop pacing, turning to face him with a glare that could cut through steel. “That’s where you’re wrong, Lannister. You might not care about honor or loyalty, but I do. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family.”

Jaime holds your gaze, his smirk fading as he sees the resolve burning in your eyes. He feels a flicker of something unfamiliar—respect.

“Well,” he says quietly, leaning back against the tree once more, “then I suppose you’d better start planning, my lady. Because if we reach Harrenhal, it might already be too late.”

Your jaw tightens, but you don’t respond. Instead, you return to your place by the fire, your eyes fixed on the flames as your mind works tirelessly.

Jaime watches you in silence, the weight of your determination settling over him like a storm cloud. And he finds himself wondering if perhaps there’s still a way out of this mess—if not for him, then for you.

[nothingbutsweetwords]

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ..."

Word count: 3,800.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

MEETING — 1. Her.

Her legs, without any command and with an unstoppable perseverance, set off through the labyrinthine corridors of the red keep towards her mother's chambers long before the phrase fully reached her ears, the one she had so longed for: "The baby has been born, my princess."

Her family was her most loved treasure and when her mother announced the big news, time seemed to slow down. She couldn't wait to have that baby in her arms and cherish every second the gods, those she fervently prayed to, would allow her to spend with him.

Every night, in silent supplications, she repeated to any who would listen: "Please, let him be born healthy. Please, take care of my mother."

Rhaenyra painfully held in her heart the memory of her mother Aemma's early departure from the world. She wanted to shield her little ones from all fear and anguish, so she didn't dwell on details about that traumatic episode, one that, despite the years, remained as a deep and open wound. Unfortunately, she couldn't stop the whispers, those that seeped into her daughter's ears, creating such intense fear that she barely had room to breathe during those long nine months.

She felt a smile so wide it would ache her cheeks later and feet that weren't fast enough. Upon reaching the large wooden door, she took a few seconds to take a deep breath, calm her racing nerves, and finally push it open with determination.

Her entrance went unnoticed, as all eyes in the room were on the small human being now peacefully resting in her father's arms.

Except hers, no, those were on the woman sitting on the couch. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her hair tousled and a tired expression adorned her face; yet never, in her short years on this earth, had she seen her so beautiful.

"Mother" she murmured almost voicelessly, taking her hands in hers and seeking her gaze. She felt her eyes sting, tears threatening to spill, and a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to speak again, but her voice got lost along the way. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary; Rhaenyra knew her as well as herself and could read her like an open book.

"My love, please, have no fear, we are okay" with those simple words, her lungs filled with air, swelling her chest. She let out a sigh, laden with relief, laden with love. She could only nod in response.

"Sister, look!" Jacaerys exclaimed, drawing her attention. He lifted the lid of the large steel chest, releasing steam and revealing a dragon egg. 

"We choose an egg for the baby" Lucerys added.

"That looks like the perfect one, brothers" she said with a smile, though a bittersweet taste filled her mouth. Unlike her brothers, her own egg had never hatched, a disappointment she carried permanently with her, though she tried not to show it in these moments of happiness.

"I let Luke choose" he said, she messed up the younger one's hair and planted a kiss on his head.

"Thank you, Jace."

"Not every day an egg leaves the dragonpit, my princess, I thought it best to escort the lads" intervened Harwin Strong, adorned in his imposing armor and golden cloak. It didn't surprise her seeing him there; in fact, despite having a different last name, she considered him part of her family.

He was her protector, who always escorted her to her room, pampered her with luxurious books, and listened attentively to every word she said. She had more memories of him than of her own father, but she didn't complain; she knew he was a busy man. Harwin had tried to teach her the art of the sword, insisting on the importance of knowing how to defend herself, but she always found herself more interested in books. Besides, she had the feeling that he would never neglect watching her back.

"Laenor and I thank you, Commander" she heard her mother say.

"Father, may I see it?" she asked. Laenor knelt down, allowing the three of them to meet the new member of the family. It only took one look for him to completely captivate her. She mentally swore that nothing would ever harm him as long as she breathed. "What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?"

"Another boy, I heard" Harwin cleared his throat. "Might I?" he asked, seeking her mother's approval. She thought she saw a glimpse of the same relief that filled her eyes.

"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey" she said, smiling. Upon hearing that name, her lips formed another smile. Of course, she would have been equally happy if it were a girl, but she was glad to still be the only one. It had its advantages.

"Of course" Laenor agreed. Rising, he gently placed Joffrey in Harwin's arms.

"Joffrey, is it?" her father nodded in agreement to the question.

"Mother, please may I hold Joffrey?" she asked excitedly, reaching out her arms towards him. A futile attempt, of course, the man in front of her easily doubled her height.

"No, mother, let me go first! I'm the strongest, I won't let him fall!" her twin brother vociferated.

"I won't let him fall either!" she countered.

Her younger brother joined in the pleas, arguing that he had the right because he was the youngest. Soon, the words melded into an indistinguishable uproar, as all three clamored in unison.

"No, no, no" her father hastened as Harwin turned his back to them, trying to prevent the disturbances from reaching the ears of the newborn.

"I think you left your septa waiting, my little lady, and back to the dragon pit for you two, before they send out a search party" he ushered the three younger ones out of the room, and gently pushed their shoulders, guiding them down the hallway. First, towards the room she had left only minutes ago, where her septa awaited along with Helaena, her mother's younger sister.

Her father left her at the door, and the expression on her face, the one she believed she was successfully hiding, betrayed her. Laenor crouched down to her height, gently taking her cheeks in his hands, making her look at him.

"You know, Leana had an egg that didn't hatch... and she didn't ride a dragon until she was five and ten. Now she rides Vhagar," he tried to cheer her up, "your time will come, dear daughter, I promise."

She was filled with hope at her father's promises. He always had the right words. She thanked the man she loved so much with a kiss on the cheek, and now with renewed energy, she entered the room.

Despite the repeated complaints from the septa, they remained on the floor; she leaned her back against the wall, while Helaena rested her head on her legs. She explored the pages of the book while playing with her hair, and when a passage caught her attention, she read it aloud to her aunt, who entertained herself by watching a long insect walk on her hands. They didn't share the same interests, not even could it be said that they understood each other, but they enjoyed each other's company and were grateful of having another princess of almost the same age as a confidante.

"This one has 60 rings and two pairs of legs on each. That's 240" remarked Helaena.

"Yes, you're right, I think... Did you know that Vhagar is 170 years old?" she responded, her eyes widening at the new information. "That's exceptional."

"The last ring doesn't have legs," Helaena pointed out, overlooking her niece, more interested in the insect "it has eyes, though I don't believe it can see."

She furrowed her brow. "Why is that so?"

"It's beyond our understanding."

She didn't know how much time they had spent in that position, but when she shifted her attention from the book due to noises approaching from the corridors, she noticed that the septa had already left and in her place was Alicent. The new companion was sitting a few meters away from them, holding a cup of tea and with her gaze lost in the window.

Suddenly, two king’s guards burst into the room, each holding one of Aemond's arms, alarming her.

"Your Grace" they left without waiting for any response, closing the doors behind them.

"Aemond, what have you done?" Alicent approached him quickly, scrutinizing him, and exclaimed exasperatedly while gripping his shoulders firmly, "after how many times you’ve been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers?"

"They made me do it!" the young prince shouted in his defense.

"As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding" she furrowed her brow again upon noticing the same phrase that had come out of Helaena's mouth minutes ago.

Returning her attention to the argument in front of her, she noted that the prince's platinum hair and his green garments were stained black. Realization fell into her, she widened her eyes, astonished. Had he really ventured into the dragon pit? Alone?

"They gave me a pig!"

"A what?" the queen asked.

"They said they found a dragon for me, but it was a pig" detailed, his voice breaking slightly.

She knew Aegon and she knew her brothers, and even though she was certain the last two had only been pawns used in the prank, a mixture of anger and disappointment washed over her. How could they tease and deceive the good prince in such a way? Worse still, with something that was also the cause of her tears.

"If he wants one, he'll have to close one eye" the princess beside her said, her gaze still fixed on the tiny entity. She spoke loud enough for only her to hear.

Her words were puzzling, and she didn't know how to interpret them. They could either indicate that she was still in her little world or suggest something deeper; it wouldn't be the first time for either option. She had heard her say... things before; at first, they seemed like mere nonsensical words, and suddenly something happened, something that reminded her of her words, something that led her to believe that her aunt had some kind of magic. No one had paid much attention to her when she shared her theory, dismissing it with disdain, saying they were just coincidences. But to her, it seemed like more than mere chance connections.

"Everyone laughed" Aemond murmured, trying to hide his sadness. Her anger now replaced by deep empathy. Alicent wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back.

The prince looked just as distressed as he left the hug and walked away as he did when he entered. It reminded her of her own feelings of desolation and loneliness, and she thought that there was no one in the kingdom who could understand her like he did. Not really.

She always had a special connection with Jace, a twin connection, as they enjoyed calling it. They understood each other with just looks, laughed at the same jokes, and shared the same tastes, except for the obvious; he loved his sword, she preferred her books. On the other hand, Luke had always been her little and spoiled one, her sweet and innocent child. That's why the situation had affected her so much. She didn't believe her brothers had meant to hurt Aemond, but they did anyway. They were insensitive, and she didn't want to see them grow up like Aegon, who with his character showed that he didn't know the true meaning of consequences.

It had been a few days since the incident in the pit and the birth of her brother, who was under the care of Diana, her mother's lady-in-waiting.

She tried not to lift her gaze from her plate and ate in silence, ignoring her brothers, offering them only monosyllabic responses. She was furious and intended to make it obvious. She huffed in frustration, trying to get her mother's attention so she could bring up the issue to the table.

"My dear, what troubles your mind?" she heard her mother ask as she gave her arm a gentle squeeze.

"Mother, have you heard about the incident in the dragon pit?" noticing her mother's concerned and confused look, she hurried to reassure her, "no one is hurt... not physically, at least."

"What happened?" her mother looked inquisitively at her sons, their heads looking down, ashamed.

"Jace, Luke, and Aegon played a prank on Prince Aemond. They told him they had a dragon for him and gave him a pig with wings, they even named it! Pink Dread." The children couldn't contain their laughter at the memory, which only made her angrier.

"Is that true?" her mother asked, wiping the smile from both their faces. It wasn't common to hear her upset or see her with a serious expression.

"It was just a joke!" Jace tried to justify.

"Aegon planned it!" Luke interjected.

"I don't want to hear justifications" she silenced them. "What if that joke had been towards your sister? Would you still be laughing?"

"It's different" Jace muttered, while Luke's lip trembled in a pout.

"No, it's not. Tomorrow during training, you will offer the appropriate apologies. From the heart. Aemond is family, and we must look out for each other. Isn't that so?"

"Yes, mother" they chorused, serious and repentant.

"Now you may retire to your chambers and think about what you've done," their mother pronounced, and before they could respond, she added, "no complaints." They nodded and left in silence.

"I think Aemond could use some kind words, don't you agree?" Rhaenyra suggested minutes later, breaking the silence. She responded with a smile, thanking her for understanding the importance of this to her. "Who better than you to do it?" She rose from her seat and embraced her gently, for she could see her still in pain. She planted a kiss on her forehead, the kind she cherished so much.

"Rest, mother. I'll ask the maester to make you some tea."

She smiled after hearing her daughter, thinking that any pain felt and to be felt would be an insignificant price to pay considering all she had gained. Jace, the next heir to the throne, who would reign with peace and intelligence; Luke and Joffrey, who would be the greatest and most honorable knights; and her daughter, her eternal and sweet companion.

There was no need to ask questions; she knew where to find him. A few floors up was the library, her second room, her refuge, where the world became a little quieter and she could transport herself to other times, places and lives.

She ascended the long stairs quickly, and within minutes, she stood at the door. This hallway had always been one of the least traveled, practically deserted, except for them and the king’s guards. It seemed there weren't many avid readers in the keep.

They used to be at opposite ends of the table, immersed in each of their books. She had always wanted to talk to him, ask him what he was reading and maybe ask him to teach her High Valyrian. However, she never did; she had been too shy in his presence, and Aemond's distant form didn't help. Perhaps he was shy like her.

Or perhaps he simply didn't want to talk to her.

She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as she entered the library. She smiled to herself when she saw she hadn't been wrong.

"Good morrow, uncle" she announced her arrival as she headed to the usual shelf and picked up the book she had left halfway through a few days ago.

"Good morrow, niece" he responded with his usual seriousness.

She walked to the table and hesitated. Should she sit closer to him this time? She didn't want to invade his space, but she also didn't believe that a conversation should start at a distance.

She arrived at the table before deciding and stood there for a few seconds. She ended up placing her book at the usual spot and sat down, feeling uncomfortable.

Why was she feeling this way? She wasn't the one who played a distasteful joke, besides, he was family; they had grown up together in the castle, it shouldn't be so difficult.

Suddenly, she felt warmth engulf her when she noticed Aemond looking at her, puzzled. With the book still closed, her cheeks turned red as she realized she had been staring at him all this time, lost in her thoughts. She mentally cursed herself and searched for the page she was on. He looked away, not saying a word.

Her mother had asked her to talk to him and she had really wanted to, so she didn't understand why she found it so hard to approach him.

She audibly sighed and abruptly closed her book. He did the same seconds later. As always.

It was curious; every time they were here, they seemed… united, connected in their readings; when she finished, he did too, shortly after. They put away their books, and he walked to the exit, hurriedly, and then held the door, patiently waiting for her to exit. They parted ways upon reaching the floor of their chambers, all without exchanging a word other than greetings or thanks.

The king and the queen did a good job with him and Helaena. She couldn't say the same about Aegon, unfortunately.

She knew it was only a matter of seconds before he got up from his chair, so, with her book in hand, marched towards him.

Aemond furrowed his brow; he didn't seem upset, rather bewildered by the new proximity when she took the seat to his right and opened her book again, an action he imitated seconds later.

She found it impossible to read; she observed the page, but the words blurred together as her mind was occupied with something else. How should she start? It was clear they had something in common. Two things, in fact. Long conversations weren't necessary to know it, so she ventured there.

She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, without success. Then, timidly, she placed her hand on his, causing an immediate reaction.

He remained still, stunned by her movements. He just looked at her, with eyes wider than usual. It was then that she realized how different they were from the rest of their family. Her grandsire, her mother, Aegon, Helaena, they all had eyes as clear as the sky on a sunny day. But not him, his were darker, bluer, with a trace of purple in them. As deep as the sea, and as beautiful as a sapphire. His hair was straighter, platinum, and even softer, she would dare to say.

How she wished to have the Targaryen attributes, just as distinctive as they were beautiful. Another one of her biggest insecurities and sorrows. It wasn't uncommon for people to be surprised when they saw her and her siblings next to their parents, as they hadn't inherited such beauty. They were equally pale, but with a tumultuous mane, full of curls, of the darkest black and eyes sometimes green, sometimes brown.

Once again, she felt the red fill her cheeks, her gaze lost in him as her thoughts swirled.

"Do you know that my father's sister also had an unhatched egg? Just like us," she said, softly, looking him in the eyes and trying to comfort him, "now she's the rider of Vhagar, the oldest, largest, and most feared dragon in the entire kingdom." 

She waited for a response that didn't come. "I like to believe that our wait will be rewarded, don't you?" then added. He only nodded, almost imperceptibly, without taking his eyes off hers, "I wanted to apologize."

Now with a confused look, Aemond finally decided to respond, "why?"

"They shouldn't have done it... It was cruel." Understanding dawned on him.

"No need to apologize for something that you did not do, niece." She couldn't help but smile at his words. Was he always so serious and formal? She thought he was like an adult trapped in the body of a little boy. An old soul.

"Can I ask you something?" she inquired.

"Yes, of course."

"Did you really enter the dragon pit? Alone?" she asked, curious. She noticed his face changing, a smirk of pride forming, his lips curling up into a small smile as he straightened up in his chair, now more upright.

"Yes, I did."

"Did you see any?"

"Yes, but it was too dark to know which one..." he began, with a spark in his eyes, and noticing her attentive gaze, he decided to continue "it throwed fire in my direction" he added, her eyes wider than before, conveying her astonishment.

"Gods! You must have been so terrified."

"Not really" he simply responded.

"That was... you're incredibly brave, my prince. I wouldn't have had the courage" she said and received a wide smile in return. She had never called him "my prince" before and she had never seen him smile.

She continued to listen attentively. No history book had ever excited her as much as the prince's adventures, and seeing him so enthusiastic about telling them filled her chest with something she didn't know how to name. Something warm. She liked it.

Despite it being their first real conversation, and the first time they looked each other in the eyes, there was a mutual understanding, a connection, different, special. One that went beyond being dragonless riders or relatives raised under the same roof.

It seemed to her that only a few minutes had passed when she felt a knock on the doors and a voice announcing that it was supper time and Alicent awaited for her son's presence. Both of them showed disappointment at the interruption; he seemed to have so much more to say and she hadn't had enough of his words. She thought she could listen to him for the rest of her days.

"Forgive me, niece, I must have tired your ears," he said before standing up, "and I didn't ask about your stories; you must think me rude." His words elicited a laugh from her lips, as it couldn't be further from the truth.

"Not at all, I would have liked to keep listening to you. Besides, I don't have stories as brave as yours, and I wouldn't want to bore you to exhaustion" she replied.

Once they had put the books back in their place, they walked to the door.

"I do not think that's possible" Aemond communicated with his hand on the doorknob. There was silence as they descended the stairs with the guards behind them.

"Goodnight, my princess" he said once they reached the floor, calling her that way for the first time.

"Goodnight, my prince."

"Perhaps tomorrow we could... continue?" It came out almost as a whisper from Aemond's lips. A smile on hers.

"Nothing would make me happier."

[hypnobeauty]

A Chance Encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 3)

summary: a story about how you and Hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. part 1 / part 2 cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, angst, fluff, hyun is unsure of herself, pre-squid game, slice of life. a/n: hello! i'm back with another part. it is probably the biggest one so far. i wish they were my barbies and i could make them kiss. anyway! i have quite a bit of the story drafted, we'll probably get into the relationship next part. it is out of my control, i never imagined i'd write so many parts lol enjoy xx comments are always appreciated ♥ taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia - comment if you’d like to be tagged.

part 3. a door left open

the uber ride was awkward at first, the kind of silence where neither of you seemed to know where to start. hyun-ju sat stiffly beside you, her hands folded neatly on her lap, her gaze fixed firmly on the window. you could see her shoulders tense, and you thought about how tired she must be.

you decided to break the silence. “so, are you in pain? be honest.”

she turned her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “a little,” she admitted. “mostly just… tired.”

“that’s fair,” you said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “surgery’s no joke. i remember when my cousin had his wisdom teeth out—he tried to eat a cheeseburger the same day. ended up crying into his fries. don’t be like him.”

that earned a small giggle from her, and you took it as a good sign.

“you’re lucky i didn’t let ha-neul come with us,” you added, leaning in conspiratorially. “she would’ve pestered you with questions about your nose—she’s obsessed with noses right now. it’s been her only personality trait for weeks.”

this time, hyun-ju chuckled, soft but genuine. “what’s wrong with her nose?”

“nothing,” you said, grinning. “she just decided it’s not ‘cute’ enough. she almost picked one that would’ve made her look like michael jackson. i had to intervene.”

that got a laugh out of her—small, but real. “michael jackson?”

you nodded, feigning solemnity. “i told her, ‘ha-neul, your nose is fine. it’s perfect. no glitter gloves necessary.’ she almost went through with it anyway.”

hyun-ju laughed a bit more, finally relaxing a bit. the sound eased something in your chest.

“you’re good at this,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter now.

“at what?”

“making people feel comfortable.”

you shrugged, feeling a little shy. “oh. i just think it’s nice to be kind. and honestly? helping you was no big deal. it’s what anyone would do.”

“not anyone,” she said, looking at you for the first time since you got in the car.

*

when the uber pulled up to her building, you hopped out with her, offering to help her up to her apartment “do you need help getting upstairs?”

she shook her head firmly, already reaching for the door handle. “no, it’s fine. i can manage.”

“okay,” you said, “at least let me give you my number. if you need anything, just text me, okay?”

hyun-ju hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. you exchanged numbers, and she disappeared into her building while you climbed back into the car.

later that night, as she sat on her couch, her phone buzzed.

hey, it’s me. i hope you’re feeling better. please keep me updated, and don’t hesitate to ask for help. you deserve it too.

she read it almost immediately. you watched the little “read” notification appear at the bottom of the screen. but no reply came.

hyun stared at the message for a long time, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. she typed out a reply, then deleted it. typed another, then deleted that too. nothing felt right. nothing felt good enough. finally, she locked her phone and set it down,

*

as the uber pulled away from hyun-ju’s building, you leaned back in the seat, finally exhaling the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding. before you could fully settle, your phone buzzed in your pocket. ha-neul’s name lit up the screen.

“heeyy,” you answered, bracing yourself.

“what happened? you just disappeared! did i miss an emergency rhinoplasty?” her tone was playful but edged with curiosity.

you sighed. “no emergency. i just… ended up helping someone.”

“helping someone? who?”

you hesitated. “the woman from the waiting room. remember her, hyun-ju? she had just had surgery, and the clinic wouldn’t let her leave without someone to sign her out.”

there was a pause, then an incredulous laugh. “wait, so you ditched me for someone you barely know?”

“it wasn’t like that,” you said quickly. “she needed help, and no one else was there. i couldn’t just leave her.”

another pause, but this time, ha-neul’s tone softened. “you’re too nice for your own good, you know that?”

“maybe,” you admitted.

“and she’s pretty, isn’t she?” ha-neul’s teasing edge was back.

you laughed, flustered. “i mean… i guess? that’s not the point.”

there was a beat of silence on the line. then, she snorted. “well, i didn’t know you were into girls.”

“what?” you sputtered.

“oh, don’t act surprised. i knew it since that day,” she teased mercilessly.

“to be honest,” you admitted, “me neither.”

“oh my god, you are so into her! i knew it! since the first time we saw her, i knew something was up.”

“i’m not into her,” you said, though your voice didn’t sound as convincing as you’d hoped.

“sure, sure,” she said, dragging out the words. “you’re just playing knight in shining armor for no reason at all.”

you rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “goodbye, ha-neul.”

“oh, this isn’t over. i’m going to interrogate you later.”

you hung up with a laugh, shaking your head. from that day on, ha-neul teased you mercilessly—she found a way to always bring up hyun-ju, teasing you about how you’d never been so straightforward with anyone before, and even your friends got in on it after she spilled the story at dinner the following night.

the only problem? hyun-ju never replied.

*

you sent her a series of messages over the next week:

hey, how are you feeling today? let me know if you need anything.

i live close by—it’s no trouble at all.

two days later:

hey, stranger! ha-neul had her surgery today and looked worse than you, haha.

sorry, i didn’t mean to say you looked bad, just… well, bruised. are you okay?

hyun brought you up in therapy the following week, sitting across from her therapist—a kind, middle-aged woman who specialized in lgbtq+ mental health.

“i met someone,” hyun said hesitantly, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

her therapist’s face lit up. “that’s wonderful, hyun-ju. tell me about her.”

“she’s… nice,” hyun said, struggling to find the words. “she helped me after my surgery. we talked a little. she’s funny.”

“and how do you feel about her?”

hyun hesitated, then shrugged. “i don’t know. it feels… weird. like, she sees me. as me. and that’s good, but it’s scary too.”

her therapist nodded thoughtfully. “it sounds like you’re afraid of being vulnerable.”

hyun wasn’t sure what to say, so her therapist continued. “are you planning to stay in touch with her?”

“i think so,” hyun said cautiously. “but it’s scary. what if i say the wrong thing? what if i ruin it?”

her therapist smiled gently. “relationships—friendships, too—are about taking risks. you don’t have to have all the answers or the perfect words. just being honest and showing up is enough.  let her in a little and see what happens.”

hyun left the session feeling lighter, more hopeful.

*

but when the messages from you kept coming, her anxiety crept back in.

each time her phone buzzed, she felt a pang of guilt. she typed out replies over and over, but nothing felt good enough. her fear of saying the wrong thing left her paralyzed, so she said nothing at all.

three days after the last message:

i’m starting to get worried, hyun-ju. just let me know if you’re fine.

another day:

i pass by your building every day on my way to work. should i stop by?

and finally:

hey, hyun-ju. did something happen? sorry if i came on too strong—i was genuinely worried about you.

i can see you’re reading these, but you never reply… i get it. i’ll leave you alone now. sorry if i made you uncomfortable.

after that, the chat stayed silent. when she received your last message, guilt and regret gnawed at her. she wanted to scream. to hit something. to do anything but face the truth: she had let fear win again.

in her next therapy session, when the doctor asked about you, hyun-ju lied.

“it… didn’t work out,” she said quickly, not meeting her therapist’s eyes. “she probably realized we’re too different.”

the therapist gave her a kind smile but didn’t press further. “that’s okay, hyun-ju. not every connection works out. what matters is that you tried, and you allowed yourself to open up, even if only for a moment.”

hyun-ju nodded, but her stomach churned. she couldn’t bring herself to admit the truth—that she hadn’t replied to a single message.

*

you stared at the chat for a long time after sending that last message. the little grey avatar beside her name felt cold, distant—you wished she had a profile pic. your own days moved forward, though you found yourself thinking of her often. you reread your messages to her, trying to pinpoint where you’d gone wrong. even ha-neul, who had teased you endlessly at first, stopped mentioning her after seeing how the silence weighed on you.

life went on. but hyun-ju had awakened in you feelings you had never taken seriously before and now you couldn’t help feeling like something had been left unresolved.

*

a month later, you were standing in line at your favorite café, eyes scanning the pastry display as you tried to choose something to pair with your cappuccino.

unbeknownst to you, at a table near the window, hyun-ju sat with her notebook, calculating the cost of her next procedure. she sipped her coffee absentmindedly, the barista’s voice barely registering as they called out a name—your name.

her pen froze mid-stroke. it wasn’t a common name. could it really be you? as she told herself it wasn’t, she heard your laugh, warm and unmistakable. her head snapped up, and there you were, joking with the barista as they handed you a cup and a paper bag.

hyun-ju stared, her heart pounding. you thanked them and turned toward the door, completely unaware of her. her legs moved before her mind could catch up. one moment she was sitting; the next, she was standing in front of you, her hand gripping your arm.

you had just reached the door when you felt a hand on your arm and a soft voice behind you saying your name. you turned, startled, and found yourself in front of her.

“can w—can we talk?” she asked, her voice low but firm. “please.”

you looked up from her hand—her nails were painted a soft blush pink and you made a mental note to ask her what nail polish it was—, and that familiar floral scent reached your nose. her expression was a mix of hope, fear, and determination.

face-to-face with hyun-ju, you smiled softly. “of course.”

[littlefeltsparrow]

The whole “I’m hurting you to protect you” trope only works well when the harm inflicted is lesser than the harm that would have otherwise occurred had a character not intervened. This is a good guiding principle for examining how well this trope fits into a given story. Because if the harm inflicted fails to meet the condition of being lesser than the harm that would’ve otherwise occurred, then the whole relationship is called into question.

Rhysand’s actions under the mountain are a good example of this trope done wrong, because there are very few points where the threat of harm to Feyre genuinely justifies the harm he inflicts upon her. For example, Feyre could have reasonably stayed in her jail cell and remained safe without Rhysand’s intervention, which ultimately, caused her more harm than was necessary. Many fans try to justify his actions by claiming that he was sparing her from the horrors she might witness UTM, but that simply isn’t substantiated by the evidence we’re given. We’re never given a substantial reason that requires drugging and fondling Feyre for nights on end to save her from greater harm. It is never established what might have happened to Feyre had Rhysand not intervened, and the reader is given no reason to think that Feyre would have suffered more had she remained in her cell.

The most blatant example of this however, is when he uses physical force to coerce her into agreeing to a contract that serves his interests. He did not have to twist her broken arm or frighten her into signing the contract, he could’ve just healed her because Feyre beating Amarantha was ultimately beneficial to everyone. Nobody told him to do that and it is never established why he *needed* to hurt her in order to protect her.

This trope is very broad and can operate on a spectrum of severity, but it must involve an established/implied threat for it to reach its full potential. The fact that Maas overlooks this crucial aspect of the trope is further evidence of her incompetence as a writer.

[eufezco]

SUMMARY - you're a little jealous of Tess.

a little smut at the end(?? english isn't my first language <33

"You know it's very obvious, right?" You heard Frank talk behind you. Even though Bill and Frank insisted that it was not necessary for you to do the dishes, you insisted on helping them. They prepared this delicious meal for you three and there was no way you were leaving without doing something for them in return. In front of you was the window from which you could see Tess and Joel still sitting at the table. The day was sunny and Joel's golden skin was glowing in the sunlight. You tried to concentrate on scrubbing the plates but you could feel his eyes on you and you couldn't help but look at him back. Tess was talking to him while he finished eating.

"Don't tell her that when it's not, Frank." Bill joined you two in the kitchen.

"No, but it is, Bill. It's in the way you look at him, you know? Your eyes do that thing and your lips curve up a bit. Not in like a big smile but in like an I'm-so-in-love-with-you one."

"It's not obvious, Frank's just dramatic. Don't worry."

"I'm just saying it's noticeable."

"What are you even talking about?" You dried your hands and turned around so you could see them both.

"You and Joel." Frank stated.

"He wants nothing to do with me, okay?"

"Oh, so he knows."

"I wish he didn't, but yes, he knows."

"Why?"

"Frank-"

"I tried to kiss him."

"You did what?"

"Oh, fuck."

"It's her fault! She likes him too and they're like super close but he only sees her as a friend. If he wasn't so worry about hurting her feelings, I could have him. He told me that." You turned around to the sink again. You grabbed a glass and started scrubbing violently. Your eyes moved from the sink to the window and back, the smirk Joel had on his lips while talking with Tess was getting on your nerves.

"So he feels the same way about you."

"At least he did a week ago. I found her in his bed a couple of days ago. She was fucking big spooning him, Frank, can you believe that?"

"Oh, absolutely not."

"I'm sure it's not only about Tess." Bill intervened in the conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"Tess told me he lost people. He's obviously scared of forging a bond with you beyond friendship because he doesn't know what tomorrow may be like and if he could lose you as well."

"Shit... how do you know that? Did he tell you?"

"He knows because he was just like that." Frank answered for him.

You sighed. "I'm so jealous of you two."

You went back to the yard and sat with Tess and Joel at the table. They were discussing whether they should agree to do business with Bill and Frank. You couldn't care less about what your two friends were talking about. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, hearing their conversation but mostly enjoying the fresh air of the sunset hitting your skin. You were the one that connected over the radio with them. Luckily it was Frank the one that got your message, if it was Bill you wouldn't be sitting there, with your stomach full of the most exquisite food you'd ever tried and feeling the freshly cut grass under your feet.

"I am spending the night here."

The two of them stopped talking. Tess looked at Joel to see his reaction and Joel shook his head immediately. "The three of us are going back to the QZ."

"No. I'm staying here. FEDRA won't know that I'm gone, I don't have work tomorrow."

Joel threw a quick glance at Bill and Frank inside the house. He had been very hesitant the two times you'd met with them, still not trusting enough the two men to leave you alone with them. Even though he knows that you'd spent hours talking with Frank on the radio. You rolled your eyes when you realized it was because of them. "Oh, come on."

"No. No 'Oh, come on.' You're coming with us. Tell them we really appreciate this nice meal, everything was delicious but we should leave before it gets dark-" He said as he got up from the table. Tess was quick to lay one of her hands on top of Joel's. She called his name and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sat down on his chair again.

"Stay here with her. I will go back to the QZ." Tess knew that it was impossible to change your mind. She was already trying to find other options that would please Joel. That was much easier.

"I have work to do in the morning."

"I'll cover you. You'll be fine."

Joel huffed, looking at you and running a hand through his face. You smiled at him, victorious, but he was upset at your attitude. You truly did not see how dangerous it was, not only for FEDRA to find you out of the QZ, but also for you to stay at some random dudes' house?

"Let us know over the radio when you arrive."

"This is so nice. We could never go back to the QZ." You said letting yourself fall onto the bed and sighing. Joel closed the door behind him and left his gun on the nightstand, a place where it would be within reach in case he needed to use it. He sat on the bed, starting to question why he didn't drag you back to the QZ. "I'm serious Joel, we could stay here. There are enough houses, you can choose the one you like the most and we could-"

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" You held your body up with your elbows and your eyebrows came together after hearing Joel talking to you like that. He turned his body slightly towards you so he could make eye contact. "Sometimes I don't know if you mean what you say or if you just spit out every fucking thought that goes through your head."

"What is this all about? Why are you so determined to go back to the QZ? Is it because of her?"

Joel huffed and got up from the bed. "You are- This is unbelievebable."

"Or is it because you have so much to lose there? It would be a pity if you did not come back, Joel. Everyone would miss you so much."

Joel ran his hand through his face out of desperation. He paced around the room while you talked. You rolled your eyes, letting your body fall on the mattress again. "So it is because of her."

"She's my family! Of course it's because of her!" He yelled at you, approaching you with a threatening attitude. You got up from the bed and as angry as he was, you asked him.

"And what am I? Am I not your family?" You clenched your jaw.

Joel chuckled and massaged his temples. "I didn't say that." Anger quickly crept back into his body, one of his fingers pointed at you, and his other hand rested on his waist. "You do not get to twist my words in that way!"

"Seriously, Joel? That's the only problem you see here? Because the real issue is that you don't have enough balls to tell her the truth and that's the only reason why things are working this bad for us!"

"Oh please, if you could act like a fucking adult for once in your life and have a little empathy..."

"I can't do that! I just can't do that because if I don't think of myself who will? Will you do it? Because we have already seen that you won't!"

He couldn't believe what you were saying. Joel closed his eyes while you talked and clenched his jaw to the point it hurt. "I think about you! You are my priority! Every hour of the day, you are my priority! From the moment I open my eyes in the morning until I go to sleep at night-"

"You're always so worried about how she may feel about us, but what about me? How do you think this situation makes me feel?"

"I'm pretty sure it makes you feel the same way it makes me feel."

You huffed a laugh and then you rolled your eyes at him. You walked past him to leave the room. "No. You are not going anywhere. I'm not done talking." Joel grabbed your arm and kept you from opening the door. His grip on your arm brought you face-to-face with him. He wanted to keep arguing with you, he still had a lot of things to say, but at that moment both of your breaths were deep as a result of the agitated discussion and they mixed to the point of becoming one. Joel cupped both of your cheeks and crashed his lips into yours. Your back hit the door, causing Bill and Frank who were on the other side listening to jump backward.

"Oh, fuck..." You sighed and your hands caressed his broad shoulders and slid down to his chest. He was beautiful, your hands couldn't get enough of him. After caressing the freckles that decorated his skin and the scars on his chest, your hands moved to his belly and quickly slipped into his pants. Joel gasped against your lips, and a playful smirk appeared in yours right before he kissed you again to quiet his own sounds.

"We should-" Frank said after being able to hear the wet sounds of the kiss and your sweet hums through the door.

"Yes." Bill agreed with him inmediatly.

The next morning you woke up between Joel's arms, your legs tangled with his and Joel's gentle breathing enticing you to stay in bed instead of going to have breakfast. You shifted in place, careful enough to not wake him up. You slid his big t-shirt over your head and stole from him the pajama pants that Bill and Frank had lent him.

Frank's eyes sparkled as soon as he saw you enter the kitchen. "You have to tell us everything right now." He moved back a chair so you could sit next to him while Bill placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of you and you smiled at him in gratitude. You bit your lower lip, trying to hide how happy you were and Frank huffed a laugh "You bitch. It was good."

You nodded, taking a sip from your cup. The smile never leaving your lips. "It was amazing. He is so rough yet so soft, just like I told you I thought he would be. His hands are- ugh, so magical, and his lips are so good that I can still feel them. And his d-"

"We don't need all those details, thank you." Bill rushed to say, sitting at the table with you. Interested in what you were saying but not that interested.

"Oh yes, we need them." Frank huffed another laugh, seeing your devilish expression wanting to go on with what you had started.

"No, you don't." Joel's said entering the kitchen with his deep morning voice.

[faerievampling]

Tender

Summary: After the tadpole is gone, Spawn!Astarion's newfound vampiric strength must be tempered when making love to Tav.

Ao3 Link Here!

pairing: Astarion x Female Tav

word count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+. Cunnilingus. PiV. Vaginal Fingering. Blood drinking. Spoilers for end game content.

Astarion brushes his lips against yours; his touch is so tender, as if he fears he may break you. You sigh into him as his strong hand trails up your neck to cup your jaw. He cradles you to him as he deepens the kiss, swirling his practiced tongue around yours.

When Astarion’s full vampiric strength came back to him after the defeat of the Netherbrain, he had hurt you - by accident, of course. 

His lovemaking had left bruises on your delicate skin. Astarion was torn up over this, that he had hurt his lover, the one person he truly cares for. But Astarion had been used to using you as he pleased. You never told him what to do, and he was in control of the bedroom.

He hadn’t realized his own strength. He was always starved and weak before the tadpole; but now, he is a very well fed vampire, and he found that he was inhumanly strong nowadays.

But now, Astarion realizes just how fragile you are, and how careful he must be.

Astarion places a hand on your waist as he delicately leads you to lie on your bed. When you meet Astarion’s gaze as he climbs on top of you, his eyes are rounded, his soul open and inviting as he bears his heart to you.

Every time the two of you made love since you defeated Cazador, it was like this. Astarion would often get emotional in one way or another, but you worked through it together. You were to follow his lead, let him explore, and intervene only when absolutely necessary. Astarion trusted you to know when the ‘absolutely necessary’ clause of this agreement should be applied. 

Letting Astarion explore sometimes lead him to be rough with you: not that you minded, of course, quite the contrary. But with the tadpole gone, things had changed. 

The two of you take each other in for a moment: his curls, which tendril down wildly as he hovers above you, frame his cute pointy ears. His full lips are parted, showing you the tip of his fangs as he often does when he’s feeling lustful. 

Astarion puts his hand on your neck before he moves up to thumb the plump of your lower lip. He then gives you a little smile before using a knee to spread your legs, fully putting your wet cunt on display. 

A low growl escapes Astarion’s throat at the sight of you. Your pale lover hooks one of your legs on his shoulder as he lies beside you, his eyes glued to your sex. 

“So pretty…” Astarion murmurs as he swipes a finger from your entrance to your clit, causing you to tremble with need.

Your cunt is already so wet, your folds swollen and muscles relaxed, ready and desperate for Astarion’s touch. He gently slides a finger into your entrance with little resistance. You clench around him as you search for his lips, which find yours instinctively. 

Astarion slides his finger out of you slowly. Your beloved was still mastering your body, but he always seemed to know when you were ready for more. As he slides a second finger into your entrance, he breaks your kisses, watching you as you take more of him. He pushes his long fingers into you until he is knuckles deep, which evolves your little whimpers into breathless moans.

Astarion watches as he unravels you with the curl of his fingers deep inside your cunt. Your eyes roll at the intense sensation, and you’re already seeing stars.

“Such a good girl, my sweet darling.” His deep, silky voice gives away how much he was enjoying this. He loved the smell of your desire, your reactions to his touch, and your full trust in him. 

As Astarion is hitting that sweet spot deep within you, his thumb begins to circle your clit, causing your eyes to go wide as carnal pleasure possesses you. 

Suddenly, Astarion pulls out his fingers from you slowly, watching your needy expression with a smirk. He lowers himself before he takes your swollen clit into his mouth, wrapping his lips around your sex and gently sucking.

A moan escapes your lips, which Astarion thinks is rather cute, and he smiles against your sex before returning to tasting your folds. 

Astarion loves the way you taste, and can’t help but ease his tongue into your entrance. His fingers move to your labia, spreading your lips so that he may devour his lover properly.  

Once Astarion is done teasing you and building you up, his tongue moves to your clit, making soft circular motions that make you writhe beneath him. 

You try to tell Astarion you’re about to come, but you’re breathless, and all you can do is tangle your fingers in his lovely curls and brace yourself for your impending orgasm.

Luckily, your body is able to speak for you, and your lover is very attentive. 

Astarion brings a hand up to squeeze your nipple as you come on his tongue, and your scent nearly drives him mad. He desperately wants to take you, to fuck you, to sup of your blood just as he had your delicious cunt.

His lips stay on your core until you squirm away from him from overstimulation. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you back to him before placing a kiss on the inside of your thigh. 

“May I?” Astarion asks through his lashes. You nod, and you see the excitement flicker across his face. 

Astarion kisses you once more before he slides his fangs into you, slowly drinking you in. He savors it, because he needn’t take too much; he didn’t like you feeling bloodless, and anything more than a few sips was a treat enough for him.

He moans against your skin after releasing you, lapping up the spilled blood as he undoes his trousers, freeing his cock from its constraints. 

Astarion is already primed and ready to take you. He feels so connected to you after drinking in your essence, and he wants more. Sitting up on his knees between your legs, his hands harshly grip your splayed thighs as he pulls you to him, ready to fuck your brains out until you’re a drooling, sobbing mess.

But he remembers himself; remembers the bruises he left on you. In these moments, he deeply misses the tadpole, and how alive it made him. Now, he has to be vigilant. But it is worth it for you. To love you properly, the way you deserve, whichever way Astarion can show you how. 

The one thing he knows he can do is protect you, even if it is from a part of himself. 

As Astarion lines his cock up with your entrance, he leans over and presses a tender, almost chaste, kiss on your lips. He meets your gaze as he pushes himself into you, a moan escaping your lips as he fills you.

Astarion hooks both of your legs on his shoulders as he strokes you. His motions are slow, consistent, and he is so incredibly deep, the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. 

He is cradling you, holding you so close and fucking you slowly: it had never been like this for him before, but he loves it. He loves you. 

Astarion doesn’t last long like this - you feel so perfect in his arms, and your cunt so warm, so tight, it feels like heaven once he finally comes deep inside of you.

Astarion rolls off of you before pulling you into his chest, not wanting to end your skin to skin contact so soon. He could get use to this, Astarion thinks.

Masterlist

[klausysworld]

Okay so I have this idea where reader has been taking care of hope for 7 years (Hayley is like dead Marcel killed her or smt) and like in the show Marcel has klaus locked away but when the family rescues him they all come to realise that y/n has built like a whole army of werewolves/vampires just to protect hope. Klaus see’s how much she loves hope and he has loved y/n for like 12 years and hope notices this and then hope tells him that y/n has cried herself to sleep ever night because of loosing him and then obviously the rest is up to you.

This idea has been in my head for a while so I do hope you write it and if not thank you for whatever you write next 🥰🥰🥰🥰

And also sorry my description was so bad but I forgot to say smut would be greatly appreciated ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Family

Y/n had grown up alongside Hayley in the foster care system. They were adopted together and thrown out together. They were loyal to one another no matter the consequences and would follow the other to the ends of the earth.

Y/n hadn't batted an eye at the idea of living with the most dangerous family in the world, if Hayley was going then so would she. She showed her devotion to the unborn Mikaelson and quickly gained the attention and respect of the originals.

Elijah appreciated her love and protective characteristics over her family, Hayley and the baby. Rebekah liked that it didn't matter who said what about her, whether they claimed she was a useless human or nothing more than something to eat, she wouldn't back down form a fight. Klaus had originally thought her to be a little foolish with her confidence and need to help but he found that she knew what she was doing, she was persuasive and intelligent.

When the witches first killed Hayley and took the new born baby, Y/n had pushed aside the grief and the pain from Hayleys death. Niklaus and Elijah could see the horror in her eyes but she told them to get up and find the baby, and they did. Thankfully Hayley returned, as a hybrid, and Hope survived.

Y/n was happy for them to compel her to believe Hope was dead but Klaus interjected and said that he didn't believe it to be necessary. That was when Elijah knew that his brother had placed his trust in Y/n.

The Mikaelson brothers watched as Y/n stayed beside Hayley no matter how much she yelled, screamed, cried, killed. Despite Hope not dying, Hayley still felt the pain of loss. It was easy for her to take it out on Y/n, to bring up her past family and to push at all her buttons but Y/n never gave in. She ignored it even when Klaus and Elijah would get involved, sometimes Hayley would have said something particularly hurtful and one of the brothers would intervene, yelling at Hayley to go calm down and offering some sort of comfort to Y/n but she wouldn't accept it.

There was one occasion when Hayley had bitten Y/n, her humanity was almost gone and she had attacked her bestest friend. Klaus had gone ballistic. Elijah had healed Y/n though she insisted it wasn't that bad while Klaus finally managed to scream some sense into Hayley.

Apologies were made and accepted before finally they were all able to go see Hope.

Y/n hadn't ever had a family, even when she was adopted with Hayley they only took Y/n because Hayley wouldn't go without her. So when Rebekah pulled the camera out for a family photo, Y/n made her way inside but Klaus had noticed and went to get her.

A gentle hand was placed on her shoulder to gain her attention as he guided her back to the others and promised her that she was their family now. Rebekah had been ecstatic and pulled Y/n to her side as Klaus held up the camera and they all smiled.

From then onwards Y/n would bond with Hope more and more. Hayley had sat with her and they had agreed that should anything ever happen to Hayley, that Y/n would never leave Hope alone. There was absolutely no convincing needed with this arrangement.

Over the next year witches, wolves and vampires came and went. Y/n stayed with the Mikaelsons and befriended the wolves, Jackson especially as he was to marry her adopted sister. She stood beside Klaus at the wedding, holding Hope and watching as the baby's eyes glowed gold in unison. Klaus was just looking at Y/n, listening as Hayley and Jackson recited their vows and imagined those words of love coming from his own lips.

After, Y/n went down to celebrate and Klaus managed to get a dance with her after Elijah finally pushed him to. Something about the other just felt right. It brought a warmth that only held safety and admiration. Like home.

Y/n began to see Klaus as home. When Hayley spent so many nights in the bayou, it was Klaus that she spent her time with and Klaus who always came to seek her out. Often he would use Hope as an excuse to be around her, Hope loved Y/n very much and was always eager to see her. Klaus was even more eager to take her.

But then Lucien arrived, along with Tristan and Aurora. They ruined everything.

Y/n became a vampire, Finn was killed once again and the Mikaleons were faced with peril.

Everything happened within the blink of an eye. Rebekah was hexed and the brothers bitten and Freya poisoned. Klaus was locked away for his violent acts and the others were linked to his life and hidden away in their coffins. And then Hayley, she had gone to Marcel angry and threatening and never returned.

That left Y/n with Hope and a truck full of almost-dead Mikaelsons. She was lost for the first year with Hope. She had lost everything. Everyone.

But when Hope would wrap her little arms around her and whimper for Y/n to not be sad, she knew that she needed to pull through.

It took a lot of effort. Y/n used Marcels tactics and started turning her own vampires, earning their trust and their devotion. She offered them a new life, she sold vampirism well and convinced dozens that this was the way for them. She began to train them, she began to trust them.

There was an inner circle that knew her well and were allowed to see Hope and go inside the house to protect her and the others had a fair amount of freedom however if they wanted daylight rings then they would have to help find the ingredients to heal the Mikaelsons.

It took far longer than she would have liked, 5 years but she did it. And one by one, Freya, Kol, Elijah and Rebekah were awake and healed. It didn't take long for them to come to understand the lengths to which Y/n had gone through.

They learnt of Hayleys death and they watched as vampires came to Y/n with updates on Klaus's position. A couple of her vampires had gone undercover into Marcels territory to get an idea of Klaus's situation. It was because of this that the other Mikaelsons were able to get in easier while Y/n went to her home to see Hope now that she was back form school.

Hope saw Y/n as her mother. Of course she knew everything about Hayley, Y/n old her countless stories and made sure that Hope knew that Hayley was her mother but Hope didn't truly remember Hayley the way Y/n had thought she would. To Hope, Y/n had always looked after her and loved her so often she would call Y/n her mommy or her ma without meaning to and Y/n could never respond, unsure as to whether she was doing something wrong by being Hopes mother. But she also couldn't deny Hope and so wouldn't upset her little girl by telling her that she wasn't allowed to call her that.

So she sat down with Hope when they were having their dinner and told her that their family was coming back in the early hours of the morning. Y/n had made sure to tell Hope stories of each of the Mikaelsons and showed various pictures, Klaus especially was mentioned. "That's your Dad remember?" Y/n would whisper when they snuggled up on Hopes bed and flicked through the photos.

Sometimes Y/n would sleep beside Hope or the other way around. Hope knew that Y/n didn't sleep much, she worried so much and became sad when Hope wasn't with her. Many times Hope had asked if Y/n loved her Dad and every time Y/n would nod "He means very much to me" she would tell her and Hope would smile and hold Y/n's hand.

"He'll come back soon Mommy, don't worry" she would whisper and Y/n would sniff and nod, pulled Hope close and closing her eyes.

When Hope was told that he father was finally coming home, she was excited for both herself and for Y/n. It took hours for her to get to sleep and Y/n had to take her back to bed nearly 10 times before she stayed in bed.

It was deep into the night when the door knocked, Y/n had fallen asleep against with her head against the kitchen table but thankfully had given Freya a key before they left for Klaus. They all made their way inside and softened at the sigh of Y/n passed out with her phone infront of her. Klaus was battered and weak but made his way over to her and knelt down to the floor so that he could pull her down to his embrace. She woke as she was taken from her seat and found herself in his hold. Tears streamed within seconds and she wrapped herself within him until little footsteps were heard and everyone's attention was on the doorway.

Y/n got up quickly, pulling away from Klaus who stared at the doorway with a level of fear. He didn't want his daughter to see him for the first time while he was dirty, bloody and broken.

"Mommy?" The sleepy voiced called, Hope had just come into sight while rubbing her eyes when Y/n quickly picked her up. They all listened as she gently hushed Hope and took her back to bed.

"What's wrong baby?" She asked softly, while tucking Hope into bed. She kissed her head and slipped Hope's wolf teddy under her arm.

"Are they here yet?" Hope whispered and Y/n hesitated. She knew Hope wouldn't sleep if she knew they were there and she knew that the Mikaelsons needed a moment to recover.

"Soon" She told Hope. "They'll be here when you wake in the morning I promise." She murmured and she stroked her face and Hope whispered goodnight.

Y/n came back down and spoke quietly.

"There's enough beds upstairs each of you, you might have to share a room for the night but it's better than a coffin. There's two showers, wait fifteen minutes so Hope goes to sleep before turning them on otherwise the noise will wake her up. We'll sort everything in the morning." She muttered, somehow a hardened exterior was around her now and they all picked up on it. She spoke to them now in an almost professional manner, like she didn't know them. As they all made their way up the stairs and watched as she checked on Hope, closed her door and made her way to her own room, they wondered how hard the past five years had been for her.

The next morning they woke to a stack of blood beside each of them bar Freya who had a cup of coffee waiting. They drank before getting dressed and heading downstairs.

Y/n and Hope were both already there, sprawled out on the sofas and eating from a bowl of berries while watching the TV. Kol was the first to clear his throat making Hope's head shoot up. Her confidence diminished quickly and she was hiding behind Y/n as she got up.

Y/n pointed to the fridge and cupboards, "If you're hungry you can find everything there, I've set up phones for you all so they're on the table. Theres a couple guys outside but they're just here to make sure nobody else is so you can check the garden if you need. Cars are coming in the afternoon to relocate now that you're awake and we have an interview with a school for Hope tomorrow morning so we need to get a full nights sleep and leave by 4pm latest this afternoon." She told them while lifting Hope from the sofa and placing her by the backdoor. "Paints are outside" she whispered to Hope who nodded and ran out to her art table in the garden.

The Mikaelsons each took their new phone and grabbed something to eat before sitting down while Klaus went to the window to watch his daughter from afar. Y/n went back to the kitchen and started washing plates when Elijah came beside her and placed a hand on her back.

"You know that you are our family Y/n" he whispered to her, concerned that she may think otherwise, "even with Hayley gone" he added faintly and she nodded. "I understand you've taken the role as Hopes mother-"

"I haven't. Hayley's her mom, Hope knows that she just slips up" She snapped back and Elijah frowned at the aggression.

"I didn't mean it as a negative thing." He replied softly, "Hayley would love that you are so close to Hope, she had told me all those years ago that you were as much Hopes mother as she was. You have always been her mother, none of us would take that from you."

Y/n sniffled at the thought of Hayley's permission almost and Elijah brought her into his embrace. He had been taking care of his family for centuries, he had the best understanding of what she was going through and he never wanted her to think that they would take Hope away from her just because Hayley was gone.

Meanwhile, Klaus had plucked the courage to go outside and sit with his daughter. He painted alongside her in a comfortable silence while nature danced around them until Y/n came outside and called for lunch. The scene made Klaus think of a movie or a sweet story and Hope smiled and jumped from her seat and tugged Klaus inside for food. He chuckled and followed, obediently sitting beside his little girl while Y/n went on the other side of her. Elijah and Y/n had prepared a simple but homey pasta dish to fill everyone before they needed to leave.

It was during lunch that Hope took notice of how her father glanced and gazed at her mother figure. Part of her was happy for them that they had found their way back and she could have that picture perfect family she had dreamed of for years but the other part of her pushed that idea away. She feared that perfect reality and quickly became upset with the thought of it all.

Y/n could see Hope stressing and took her outside to talk to her. Rebekah tried to comfort Klaus as he sat in a pained silence with the thought that his daughter didn't like him enough.

They didn't speak of it as they divided up into cars and drove to another state, to a suburban area where they had their own homes and new starts. Rebekah was excited, Freya was apprehensive, Kol decided to go his own way but to keep in touch, Elijah was willing to go wherever was seen as safest and Klaus would follow Hope and Y/n wherever they may go.

When Y/n handed him the keys to his own house he frowned, he didn't want to be by himself. He never had. Y/n had asked Hope if she would want to stay primarily at her dads but she wasn't so sure as she didn't really know him anymore.

The separate house arrangement lasted no longer than a week before Klaus was insisting they get a big house they could all stay in. Freya and Rebekah got a smaller house together, Elijah got himself an apartment close by but a little further out and Klaus moved in with Y/n and Hope after getting upset and Y/n understanding his needs.

He had his own room but he never wanted to be in it. He wanted to be in Y/n's, he wanted her and she wouldn't let him. Hope slowly got used to the idea but Y/n pulled away from it despite the ache in her heart that called for him.

Klaus soon believed that she truly didn't feel anything more than that friendship/family bond that she had with his siblings but Hope made sure he knew the truth one night when they were watching a movie and Y/n was out sorting out some vampires that apparently worked for her with both confused and impressed the Mikaelsons.

"I know you love my mom" She told him as they both kept their eyes on the TV, not daring to look at the other as this particular topic arose. Klaus cleared his throat and smacked his lips together but she didn't give him a chance to respond. "She told me she loves you too. Lots of times actually" she quipped and Klaus stared at the screen intensley. "But she won't tell you because she doesn't want to make it weird or make a mistake" she told him.

"She thinks it would be a mistake?" He asked, mentally cursing himself for the childish behaviour he was giving into.

"No...I don't know...She just loves you a lot and she'd be sad again if it didn’t work and I don’t want her to be sad again…” she trailed and Klaus glanced to her.

“Again?” He whispered, wondering if she had been with another man in the years they were apart and it hadn’t worked.

“She used to cry a lot” Hope mumbled, feeling guilty for telling Klaus about it. “Sometimes she would cry in her sleep too” she added and Klaus frowned, wrapping an arm around Hope and pulling her into a hug as she got upset. “She missed you” she whimpered and Klaus nodded, kissing Hopes head and wiping the tears from under her eyes. “She needs you” she told him on a small, strained voice.

Klaus rubbed her back and stroked her hair while Hope cried and let out all her worries for her mother and all the times she had seen her distraught. Klaus told her how he should have been there for them and promised that he would never leave them alone, never let them suffer again.

They ended the night on a lighter note, managed to pull a few laughs and smiled form each to her before Klaus tucked Hope into bed and found her wolf teddy for her. He then sat and told her of how one day she would get to be a wolf if she wanted and would be able to run freely, he told her how he felt when he was in his wolf form and how much he knew she would love it.

Once she fell asleep he went to his room and waited for the sound of the front door to clothes and footsteps up the floor before he came out. He stepped out from his doorway in only a pair of sleep pants, his eyes landed on Y/n and his brows rose. Her face was splattered with dried blood and her hands covered in it. She looked back at him but didn’t utter a word, just went straight for the bathroom.

Klaus followed her quickly and closed the door behind them so that Hope wouldn’t see Y/n looking so dishevelled.

“What happened?” He whispered as she tried to shimmy out of her clothes without touching anything else. He leaned over and clicked the shower on.

“It’s nothing” she mumbled, peeling her shirt from her skin leaving her in just her bra and panties as her jeans lay in a puddle on the floor. Klaus frowned and his hand cupped her face but she pushed it away. “Go away I need to shower” she muttered as she unhooked her bra and he sighed before walking out and staring at the bathroom door as she scrubbed the blood away.

He waited for her to come back out before pestering her again. Demanding to know where she was, what she was doing, who she was doing it to or with. Eventually she snapped and told him it was for Hope. She told him that people had been trying to kill her or take her all of the time, no matter how many spells were on her to protect her. So she had to get rid of the few people who knew their location and also make new vampires near where they were to ensure security.

Klaus didn’t know how to feel.

Before, she was strong headed but she had never been a killer. She did what she had to but she was still emotional and compassionate. He blamed himself, he wanted her to be a Mikaelson and she had become one. She acted like one, she loved like one, she was one.

“I can do that for you, for Hope” he told her gently and she couldn’t help the scoff that left her making him sigh. “Love, we’re here now, it isn’t your job to fight anymore” he argued and she glared at him.

“It was never my job.” She bit, “I did it because I wanted to. I do it because I want to. Hope is safe because of me, you are all safe because of me and I will keep it that way because even after a thousand years you lot still wind up dead time and time again!” She sneered, her vampiric features displaying across her face as her anger rose.

Klaus stared at her as she glared at him, she was mad and he knew that. She had been saving her rage for five years. She was mad that they left her alone, she was mad they let Hayley die not once but twice. She was mad that they hadn’t listened to her all those years ago, she was mad she became a vampire because of them. She was mad that she had never been given an easy option since the day she met them. She was mad and she needed to express it and if there was something Klaus was good at, it was expressing his rage.

So he pushed her, hard. Y/n stumbled back and felt herself tik. She flew back at him roughly, causing him to hit straight back against the wall with a wince before going back to her and shoving her. He only put his hands on her a couple more times before her hands were swinging and her nails clawed at him. He whispered for her to keep going, to get it out as she cried and hit at him. She told him all the things she hated about him and his family. All the things he had put her through and all the struggle she had with Hope. Having to look after a Mikaelson witch with werewolf anger and vampire strength was not something anyone was equipped for but Y/n, a newly turned vampire was certainly not.

Eventually she was too exhausted to keep going. Klaus was on the floor, propped up against the door with his bloodied arm around her shoulders as she curled against him and sobbed. His face and body slowly healed, as he panted for air and rest his head against hers.

After a while she calmed down and realised how much she had hurt him and started crying for the pain she had caused. Klaus told her he had wanted her to so it was okay but she hated herself for it either way. They ended up back in the bathroom, taking separate showers again before heading back out and being in a better mood. They kissed each other on the cheek goodnight and went to bed.

The next morning Y/n was lighter on her feet, she already seemed more relaxed and settled. Less on edge wondering when she would explode with anger. Hope gave Klaus a weird look and asked if they finally admitted they loved each other but he shook his head and she shrugged. Y/n was happy so Hope was happy.

Klaus and Y/n took Hope to her school before going back home and digging up the garden to start planting herbs and flowers. Some had magical properties and some didn’t. Klaus handled the vervain and Y/n handled the wolvesbane before they went inside and started making lunch only for them to get bored and decide to go out instead.

They went down to a small cafe and just ended up having sandwiches and cake anyway but at were happy that they didn’t have to make it themselves.

After they headed back home they cleaned up the house and discussed Hopes upcoming birthday. Y/n told him about her past birthdays and presents and showed him pictures from the last few years.

Weeks went by, Klaus and Y/n became the power parents they had both hoped they would be and Hope finally had the family she wanted.

Hope however started to get annoyed. She just needed them to give in and be together. So she started making hints. But apparently they weren’t strong enough so she went with being direct.

“Would you two just kiss already? Stop staring at each other!” She yelled from the kitchen, knowing they were glancing to one another while the film played in the background. Y/n blushed pink and Klaus cleared his throat, getting up and grabbing Hope. He spun her around and tickled her sides, whispering for her to shut her mouth while she squirmed and giggled.

It happened on many occasions that Hope would just tell them to get on with it. Klaus would watch for Y/n’s reaction waiting for her to give him the okay.

It was late one night when she finally did. It was just them downstairs, Hope was over at a friend’s house for a sleepover so just the two of them were watching usual Saturday night television. They were cuddled up with a blanket around them when Y/n leaned her head back and gave him a look. His brows briefly furrowed as he tried to decipher it before a tense silence overcame them. Both daring the other to do it.

Klaus caved first, leaning down and pressing his mouth to hers. Their lips moved in unison and Y/n’s hands went to his hair, tugging him onto her. The soft, wet sounds of their mouths filled the small amount of air between them as he pushed her down against the sofa and slid his hands under her thighs, hiking her legs up and round his waist.

Y/n stroked her hands round his face, her fingers memorising every detail of his face. Her thumbs brushed over his ears and down his neck while her tongue wrapped around his. Klaus slid his hands up and under her shirt, gliding along her skin to her bra. His fingers teased the lace making her pull her mouth from his and tug her shirt over her head.

Klaus kissed her lips again softly before pressing his own to her chest. Her hand cupped the back of his head, her eyes following his lips as they kissed and sucked down the valley between her breasts slowly. His other hand slid beneath her to unhook her bra and pull it off her arms.

She breathed heavily, looking up at him with lustrous eyes.

“You look so gorgeous” he murmured as he lowered his head to wrap his lips round one of her nipples. Y/n moaned softly as it pebbled against his tongue and her back arched to push her breasts against his face. He groaned softly and squeezed them both in his hands while his mouth teased them both interchangeably.

Y/n moaned his name and lifted his Henley over his head and slid her hands down his chest while his fingers picked at the button on her jeans. She helped drag them off her legs and quickly got her hands onto his. He kicked his own off and pressed himself back against her.

Their mouths were back against each other in a heated frenzy and his erection pressed against his boxers and then against her panties. She moaned against him and thrust her hips up to feel him. Klaus moved his lips down to her jaw and nipped at the skin while his hand made its way down to her stomach.

"Klaus" she whispered breathlessly as she pulled her lips off his and looked down to where his fingers brushed along the soft material of her underwear.

"Please" he uttered. It was an unexpected word for him to say but it made her eyes shimmer as she looked up at him. He leaned down to kiss her once again and she allowed herself to melt into it as he slowly dragged her panties down and off her legs. His hands brushed back up her thighs and she didn't resist when he guided them open and flat against the bed.

Klaus gently stroked his fingers along her pussy lips. Klaus groaned softly as they slid through her wetness and found her clit. Y/n let out a small gasp and pulled her head back, Klaus looked down at her as the back of her head pressed against the couch. Their eyes locked as the pad of his finger rubbed little circles against her clit. He watched in lust and fascination as her breathing escalated and her eyes watered while she tried to keep them open and focused on him.

"I missed you so much" he admitted quietly while pushing a finger into her entrance. Y/n let out a sweet cry that made the desire within him swirl and spike. His finger curled inside her perfectly, his thumb continued to pet her bundle of nerves until her body couldn't help but grind against his hand and his lips pressed a row of kisses along her throat.

"Klaus" she repeated with a moan and he smiled against her skin.

"I thought of you every day" he whispered as another finger began to thrust inside her with each precise flick of his wrist.

"You did?" she whimpered, her heart swelling with love and bashfulness. He nodded with a soft look in his eyes and pumped his fingers deeper into her until the breath was taken from her lungs.

"You were always right there in my mind. You brought me peace" he told her and she moaned weakly. Her hands squeezes at the sheets below her as her eyes shut. Klaus's fingers thrust and curled beautifully to meet the sensitive point that made her toes curl and her pussy clench tightly. "You saved me from myself" he whispered as his lips trailed down the front of her body again, a little quicker this time. His thumb brushed over her clit before his tongue replaced it.

Y/n's body arched in delight and her legs quivered as the soft heat of his mouth caressed her cunt. His tongue swirled around her sensitive bud as his fingers picked up the pace. His eyes closed as the addictive taste of her soaked onto his tongue. Her body arched and tensed with each flick of his tongue and a cry of desperation bounced off the walls as her orgasm pulsed through her. Klaus groaned softly as her pussy quivered and weeped around his fingers. He carefully, gently pulled his fingers out from her and used his mouth to clean her up.

He kissed his way back up her body to her lips and kissed her deeply, swallowing her weak moans of satisfaction and caressing his hands up along her skin. Y/n's hands brushed through his curls gently making them fluff up. Klaus pulled back and looked down at her with a genuine smile and let out a small chuckle when he felt his hair frizz.

She gazed back at him almost shyly. She had wanted him to touch her like that for so long. Too many years of longing. Raising Hope had taken away from any social life she could have had the past five years but even if Hope hadn't been a priority, Y/n only thought of Klaus like that. She could't believe that he had seen her so bare and vulnerable after all those years, touched and tasted her like she dreamed he would.

Klaus could see the thoughts dancing through her mind and slowly stroked her hair as he let her daze float over her. He pulled her to his body, wrapping her in his arm and laying with her for a bit. This was something he didn't want to push or rush. He just wanted to soak this up and be with her forever.

Y/n lay on top his body as they rest against the couch. A blanket draped over them while their eyes watched the screen before them. They were both nearly asleep but neither wanted to move so they stayed there the whole night.

By morning they were back up and getting ready to get Hope from her friends. Hope's eyes narrowed on them as soon as she got in the car, a small smile creeping onto her lips as she saw their entwined hands while they drove home.

When she got home she gave her mother a smile before offering a discreet thumbs up to her dad which made him chuckle and shake his head as she starting making kissey faces and running up the stairs giggling.

[tinytinalifes]

Synopsis: Katsuki likes your presence more than he even realizes it.

Update: I made a second part so here's the link ❤️

Y'all idk how many times I'm gonna have to say this but sorry if there's any grammar mistakes 😞✊🏿

You and Katsuki Bakugo had been at each other’s throats since early that morning. What had started as a small disagreement over training techniques had spiraled, neither of you willing to back down, until it finally led to an intense sparring match. The physical battle was fierce, as neither of you held back—maybe even pushing harder than usual. It wasn’t until you managed to finally pin him, both of you panting and sweating, that the fight ended. Katsuki’s expression had been nothing short of murderously impressed, but before he could even yell his next insult, Aizawa intervened, his tired eyes glaring at you both.

“House arrest,” Aizawa sighed, with a tone that left no room for argument. “You two are stuck together for the weekend. No training, no sparring—just chores. Figure it out, and don’t let me see another scene like this.”

So, you’d been stuck cleaning with Katsuki, each of you doing your own tasks in irritated silence, avoiding eye contact or any words more than necessary. You tried not to let it bother you, but the tension weighed heavily on you. Finally, when you finished for the night, you felt utterly drained—physically and mentally. You needed a break, something that wouldn’t involve any more fighting or tension.

The common room was empty and inviting, so you decided to make yourself some coffee, hoping it would help you unwind. With a mug in hand, you shuffled into the room, only to stop short when you saw Katsuki lounging on the couch. He was frowning, watching something intently on his phone. For a moment, you thought about just leaving to avoid him, but your exhaustion won out. You just wanted a moment of peace without worrying about him.

Katsuki looked up as you walked in, his scowl somehow deepening. “Are you following me or something?” he snapped, his voice gruff.

You rolled your eyes, too tired to argue. “Relax, I’m not here for you. Just wanted some coffee,” you muttered, heading to the far end of the couch and curling up as far away from him as possible.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, but then he grunted and went back to his phone, watching a new Playboi Carti music video in silence. You sipped your coffee, barely noticing the song as you let the quiet wash over you. The whole day had taken a toll, and soon, your eyelids felt heavy. The warmth of the couch and the fatigue from the fight settled over you like a blanket, and before you knew it, you’d dozed off.

The next thing you knew, you felt something soft brushing against your forehead. A warmth and a gentle, rhythmic sensation were coming from above you, like someone’s fingers running gently through your hair. You stirred slightly, and it was then that you realized—your head was resting on Katsuki’s shoulder. In a sleepy haze, you looked up to see his face, softened and free of the usual scowl, his eyes watching you intently. He seemed lost in thought, his fingers continuing to stroke your hair absentmindedly.

“K-Katsuki?” you mumbled, barely awake.

His hand froze, but his expression remained gentle. “Shh,” he whispered, his voice unusually quiet. “Just go back to sleep, idiot.”

You wanted to protest, to move away in embarrassment, but you were so comfortable, and for once, you didn’t feel the usual tension around him. You let yourself drift off again, feeling oddly safe.

When the rest of Class 1-A returned later, laughter and chatter filled the common room, but they stopped short, frozen at the sight before them: you curled up on Katsuki, fast asleep, and him gently stroking your hair with a soft, almost protective look in his eyes. Mina gasped, then squealed, snapping a dozen pictures on her phone before Katsuki noticed.

“Oi! Quiet down!” he whisper-shouted, glaring in her direction, but the tenderness in his eyes hadn’t vanished.

Mina stifled her laughter, glancing at the rest of the class with a grin. “Oh my gosh, this is so cute!” she whispered excitedly to Kirishima, who only chuckled and gave Bakugo an encouraging thumbs-up.

Katsuki huffed, his cheeks flushing slightly, but he didn’t make a move to wake you. Despite his usual temper, he let you stay close, ignoring the teasing whispers from his friends. It was a rare moment for him, one he hadn’t expected but, somehow, didn’t mind one bit.

Here is the link again ❤️

[justlemmeadoreyou]

jealous!harry headcannons

-> Whenever someone flirts with you, Harry's jaw clenches involuntarily. His emerald green eyes narrow ever so slightly, a subtle sign that he's not entirely pleased with the attention you're receiving.

-> Harry doesn't even realize it, but his hand often finds its way to your lower back when another person enters your personal space. It's a subtle way of showing people that you're taken, a possessive touch that never fails to make you smirk.

-> His lips form an adorable pout when he notices someone charmingly complimenting you. He might act nonchalant, but that little pout reveals the hint of jealousy simmering beneath the surface.

-> When you catch him staring intensely at you while you're engaged in conversation with someone else, it's not just admiration. Those silent stares are his way of saying, "You're mine, and I don't like sharing."

-> Whenever you make out, or during sex, he likes to bite on your neck. Even though you ask him to not bite you at the visible spaces, but he always does. Just under your jaw, at the junction of your neck and shoulder, at the side of your neck, at your jugular almost possesively, to show that he is the only one who gets to do that to you.

-> Innocent questions like "Who was that?" or "Do you know them well?" become loaded with an undercurrent of jealousy. He might pretend it's just curiosity, but his heart beats a little faster as he waits for your response.

-> Harry's fingers might "accidentally" brush against yours when he senses someone watching a little too closely. It's a subtle way of reminding everyone that he's the one who gets to hold your hand.

-> In group settings, he strategically positions himself between you and any potential threats. It's a protective move that ensures he can keep a watchful eye and be ready to intervene if necessary.

-> He becomes unusually vocal about his love for you when he senses competition. Expect random declarations of affection and praise, as he wants the world to know just how amazing you are.

-> These may even get a bit heated when there's no one close, like whispers of "my good girl, aren't you?" "so good for me, baby. look so well by my side" "can't wait to have my head between those pretty thighs of yours" "you're all fucking mine, aren't you doll?"

-> While he may not growl audibly, the subtle, low vibrations that escape his chest when he feels jealous are enough to send shivers down your spine.

-> You'll notice him dressing a bit sharper or wearing outfits that accentuate his features when he knows you might encounter someone who could trigger his jealousy. It's his way of making sure he's the most appealing person in the room, to show just how worthy of you he is.

-> Harry's teasing takes on a whole new level when he's jealous. His playful banter becomes slightly more pointed, like "accidental" brushes of his hand on your inner thighs, innocent kisses on your neck that always leave you turned on, and hiding his love boner by holding you as close to him as possible, his cock pushing it's way between your ass cheeks, because "wouldn't want anyone to see how hard i'm for you, love"

-> Grunts and whispers of "you're mine" and "just fucking mine", "you belong to me, don't you? all fucking mine" while he's fucking you into oblivion. It's similar when he has his sinful mouth between your thighs: "taste so fucking sweet" "all this for me?" as if it could ever be anyone else except him.

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