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ellana-ravenwood · 26 days ago

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“Batman, you need to-IS THAT A BABY ?!” - Batfam x Fem!reader

Synopsis : Bruce and Batmom bring their newborn daughter to the Watchtower, so she can meet their friends (or vice versa). Includes an overprotective Damian, League members who cannot believe the Batman is smiling, and other shenanigans.

Oop, I’m back (?). My dudes. It’s been TWO YEARS since I last posted here. Two. Years. I posted like, two life update...don’t know if some of y’all saw it, but long story short : I got married, I have a son now, and everything is going so well in my life that I didn’t really need the validation I got from writing online...Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, I still love writing. And so, after quite a long break, here I am :). Hope you will enjoy this, don’t hesitate to let me know if you do :

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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“You’re evil, you know that right ?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my love.” He answers, a small smile on his lips. You turn to him and...Oh that smug look, that smug look you loved so much. He definitely DEFINITELY knew what he was doing.

And that it was utterly...evil.

“It’s going to be FUN !”

Ah, and here’s his little devil. Damian himself. He loved this. Partly because he thought it was funny to mess with everyone, partly because he liked showing that you guys were a family.

“They won’t believe their eyes !” His little voice kept going, followed by a big roar of laughter that sounded, by all means, more childlike than devilish.

“That they won’t, they always seem so surprised when Bruce acts like a human.”

Jason. Still not calling Bruce “dad” (except sometimes, by “accident”, and even him don’t realize he did), he’d only slowly been back at the manor, with all of you. And, for sure, a certain important event which happened about four months ago made it so he came back to live at home.

Dick chuckled and added : “Who would blame them ? We’re talking about a man who eats his burgers with a knife and fork !” He gestured to his father with his left thumb, his other hand shielding part of his mouth as if he was telling them all a secret, as if he was trying to be discreet, so his dad wouldn’t hear...Always quite the little clown, that eldest son of yours. With his exaggerated mannerism, and that sparkle in his eyes, in his smile.

“I’m certain some of them thought he was genuinely a cyborg for YEARS” Tim added, quite seriously, his tone the opposite of his older brother (and that was just his way of joking...you think). And honestly ? Yeah, you were pretty sure some of your friends at the JLA thought your husband was a robot, at one point.

Oh yes. That’s where you were going, to the JLA’s headquarters. To execute Bruce’s plan. Quite the evil plan indeed.

“Hell, even I thought he was one before I met you guys !” Duke chimed in, and that made Cassandra smile widely, as she shook her head up and down pointing at Duke as if to say : “what he just said”.

And in a very Bruce manner, your husband kept a straight face, ignoring his children’s teasing. Only you, saw that twinkle in his eyes, that smile that might not reach his mouth, but was definitely dancing in those bright blue eyes.

Oh yes. Yes, your friends were in for quite the surprise.

************

Meanwhile, in the Justice League headquarters :

“Oh, hey ! Look, Batman’s zeta tube is turning on ! We haven’t seen him in a while right ?”

Indeed they haven’t. Because, well, let’s put it this way : Batman’s wife just had a baby.

A baby girl (finally, right ? You and Cass weren’t TOO outnumbered anymore).

And Batman had been VERY busy doting over his baby girl.

Batman had been busy being Bruce Wayne.

Just a man, who thought he’d never be happy again, not knowing how to handle all those feelings he had for his wife (for you), for his children.

That was happiness then, right ?

So, yes. Batman hasn’t been much at the JLA’s headquarters lately. But your husband thought, it was finally time to go see his friends a little bit. He knew they were all up there, because it was their monthly reunion (once each month, they gathered to talk about the state of the world, the universe, what threat lingered, what lurked beyond...and to get very drunk, and see their friends, the only ones who knew what it meant to be a “hero”).

And that what’s made him particularly evil.

He knew, they would all be there. He knew what their reaction was going to be. After all, his memory was amazing, he definitely hadn’t forgot the way they reacted the first time they saw you, the first time they learned he had children (childrEN, plural !).

And he knew they were a little worried about him.

He had missed their last three reunions, and only answered : “Everything is ok” to their messages asking if he was alright (they hadn’t dared to go see if he was indeed ok, because last time they did that, they found him bed ridden with all the bones in his body broken, and he got so mad at them for butting in his business he worked twice as hard when he was fine again, and didn’t talk a WORD for months...that was, of course, years ago, before you were in his life, but the experience was still in their minds and so, they decided to respect his privacy, he would come to them when ready). And he never pushed his “red button”, him, or anyone in the family.

They just assumed he was busy, they hoped it wasn’t anything bad.

Yes. They were worried. For him. For you. For your kids. For Alfred. For your dogs, your cats, your cow...They. Were. Worried.

And Bruce knew.

You told him, when your pregnancy was confirmed, to tell his friends. That they would be happy. But after his own initial happy thought, his surge of hope and love at knowing he was going to be a dad again, he started to make his plan.

Why tell them, when you could toy with them ?

“They deserve it.” He told you, and you weren’t sure if they did, but you weren’t about to fight him on that. After all, you too, thought it could be amusing. Amusing to hide your pregnancy, making up excuses as to why they couldn't come see you, and you didn’t come up the headquarter. Amusing, to even hide it quite expertly from any form of news (Bruce was a MASTER of disguise, not only for himself), so it would be a real surprise.

Amusing, to have your little girl in secret, with only your family. Amusing, but also what you wanted. For this good news to be just between you, your children, and Alfred. Your close family. Because you had too few things that just were yours.

This had to be yours. Your thing, your secret, your own happiness. Yours, and only yours. And you found it was good, that you guys spend the first few months of your daughter’s life only between yourselves.

It was nice, to go out “disguised” as a normal couple, and show your daughter Gotham (and how her little eyes already tried to take the entire world within them).

It was nice, to live in total privacy for a little bit.

So, yes, you had been a little selfish. And he had, too. You knew it wasn’t just to prank his friends, he kept it all a secret. That it was also to have some quality time with his family. To spend the first few months of his daughter’s life being the only one being utterly smitten with her.

Though, this last thing wasn't true...You were, too. And your children ? Let’s just say your daughter had not been alone ONCE since she was born. And she seemed to love it.

Whenever she made the slightest sound, smiled, laughed (or cried), they were there, Bruce was there, absolutely loving that little baby.

She was almost 4 months old now, and Bruce thought that the gist had to be up. What scale did he use to measure this amount of “readiness” ? You had no idea. You thought he was just now ready to share his happiness with his friends, and not just his close family.

And so here you were, after months of secrecy carefully crafted and orchestrated by your husband, in the JLA’s headquarters, along with your family, the little new addition to said family in your husband’s arms.

Evil. Your husband was downright evil.

He knew that what was about to happen would have a massive impact on his friends. He. KNEW.

And as the zeta tube brought all your family up there, you knew that as he saw their faces, your husband was a little TOO happy with himself for his little “prank”.

************

“Batman, are you al- IS THAT A BABY ?” Very typical, very in character : the first to react was Flash himself.

None of the other noticed, and they seemed inclined to think Barry had lost his mind but then...

Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch, he just held that little “package”, and had his same stoic expression except...Except there was a little hand grabbing at his chin.

Then another hand appeared out of that bundle Batman carried, with a bat plushie bunched in a tight fist, shaking it and...Cooing.

Cute little sounds, and the way- EXCUUUuuUuuuUSE ME ?

The way Batman just softly looked at her, the way his cold expression was replaced by a tender one as he lowered his eyes to her ??

WHAT ?!

They knew. They knew he had THE softest spot for his family. They knew his scary aura greatly dimmed when he was around his wife and children. They knew that when they weren’t there, he was only made of shadows. They were his light, his salvation.

They knew he didn’t have the same face expression, when they were around.

Well, when they were looking at him...Barry swore that Batman loomed around his family, standing menacingly behind them, his eyes cold and calculating as if he was ready to fight any seconds to save his loved ones, and then whenever they turned to him his feature would instantly soften. He will ALWAYS remember the first time he met little Dickie, 9 years old and so full of joy and life, and how whenever he would look at Batman and talk to him, said Batman got a softer expression somewhat, but then when Dick turned around, Batman looked about to murder them whenever they came too close from him.

Once, Tim, also 9 at the time, years after the JLA met Dick, told Barry matter of factly : “He doesn’t kill people. He could break your knee caps though” in a very Tim fashion. The kid was serious. And had noticed the aura surrounding his dad, how it changed when he was around (he noticed more than his siblings, because for a while, Bruce had been really cold and distant with him, since he met him not long after Jason’s death..understandable. So he was the only one who had this sort of behavior aimed at him, the shield Bruce put in front of him to keep everyone away so he wouldn’t be hurt, the shield that now was lowered for them and only them).

It was his eyes. His eyes that were always hard and cold, became different when looking at you or his children.

Not to say that his family never exasperated him, or that he never had his “mask” around them. After all, Bruce’s stoic expression was his face by default. It’s just that he was often too focused. And that he spend years practicing hiding his emotions, practicing keeping a blank face. Because Barry also remembered seeing Dick perched on his father’s shoulders, letting himself dangle in his back, his head upside down, whistling and kicking his feet, and Bruce having this stoic mask on, concentrated.

Anyway, they knew all that. It had been years, since Bruce finally trusted them enough to bring his wife here, and his kids. But yet, yet they were still surprised sometimes.

Like today.

The picture of Batman holding a baby was...a little weird.

Even if he opened up to them over the years, he was still mostly very cold, distant and aloof. You know, Batman. That’s just who he was. So sometimes, to see him so devoted to his wife or kids, it was odd to say the least.

And right now, as he walked towards them with a baby in his arms, the shock was real. Damn it, will there be a day when the Bat didn’t surprise them with something ?

How did none of them notice you were pregnant ? Proof again Batman was a master of his craft. And that little girl...

Oh your daughter was such a beaming ray of sunshine, that in his arms it was particularly a jarring image.

The big scary bat, tall, broad shouldered, muscular in every way, his face void of expressions, holding a tiny baby who kept smiling at everyone around, and playing with her plushy.

Odd.

Yet, sweet.

Were they surprised ? Yes.

Were they a little mad he hid something (AGAIN) this important from them ? Definitely.

Were they shocked that his daughter was so darn cute and smiling and laughing that much ? Not really, because you were his mom too.

Were they happy for him ? For sure.

Were they going to adore that little girl ? Probably as much as they adored his other kids already, which meant...yes. Yes they were going to.

Damn that bastard Bruce. Always so sneaky.

Hal, couldn’t help but think : “First, he’s not a vampire, then, he’s married with children, and now, he has that cute baby. This guy ??!!”

***********

The initial shocked passed, and only after your children MOCKED all of your friends (you had to give it to Dick, he knew how to imitate them so well..and when Damian joined in ? Oh, oh it was a fit of laughter impossible to fight that attacked them), did they approach your daughter.

“Her name is Martha.” Bruce said “We named her after my mother.” and it wasn’t his usual flat tone he used as Batman. No, it was a soft voice he usually only reserved for his kids. And the reason he was using it now ? Well. He didn’t want to scare his daughter, as he still held her.

She beamed at him when she heard her name, and babbled some baby nonsense. She then turned towards all those new faces, and you saw Bruce’s hand hold her a little tighter.

Your beautiful, sweet soul husband. He clearly was worried she’d be scared, meeting all those new people. Especially since they all wore mask. But Martha-

Martha let go of her bat plushy (which Damian caught before it touched the floor, rolling on the ground in a way you thought was quite comedic. Oh, that boy), and lifted her arms up towards-

“What a sweet little girl !” Diana said with a voice you NEVER heard her use. You realized it was her “voice reserved for babies and domestic animals”, and it made you smile. It was higher than her usual voice, and full of softness.

You thought your daughter reached for her because she could feel the warmness in your friend. And after all, amongst all of those gathered here today, she was probably the one that adored babies the most.

Diana looked at Bruce, who only inclined his head a little to give her the ok to lift her from his arms but-

Another arm stopped her, and took the baby away.

Damian.

Damian, the one who took his role as a big brother a little too seriously.

He held Martha protectively against him, and literally sneered at all your friends.

************

Damian deemed most of them unworthy to hold his baby sister, and only Clark ended up being allowed to carry her. And that was partly because Clark was the only one who knew about Martha, the only one who saw her already, and he had months to convince your son to trust him with her.

Being an extremely close friend and all, you just couldn’t hide this from him and... no, really, you literally couldn’t hide this from him as he was the immediately noticed that second heartbeat when he listened in to make sure you and your family were safe. Bruce hated when he did that, but Clark wasn’t about to let them be in danger without moving an inch.

Anyway, Clark was allowed to hold her, but he gave her back to you rather quickly because your son’s stare made him uncomfortable. If eyes could kill, right ?

Damian took his job as an older brother very seriously. He would protect her at all cost. And you had no doubt that he would be the kind of person to burn the entire world down if it meant saving his family.

Damian only glared at everyone, letting them approach ONLY after they put on a surgical mask so they wouldn’t give her their “viruses or whatever”.

You had to admit he was a bit much, and you asked him nicely to calm down a little. He relented on the face masks, but made them all wash their hands (twice).

You ruffled his hair affectionately, what a sweet little boy. It broke your heart, how so many people judged him too fast. He really was, a nice kid. With a heart of gold. He just didn’t have much luck for the first few years of his life.

But he chose to be like this. Chose to love, instead of hate. Chose to protect, instead of attacking.

Although, right now, as Diana came back towards his sister, he definitely seems ready to high kick her (which definitely wouldn’t have hurt the amazon).

************

It was a hassle, to convince Damian to let go of his sister so they could hold her. As per usual, it’s Dick who managed to convince him, saying Martha was all soft and cute, and everyone deserved to hold her at least once. Adding that if one of them dropped her, he would be allowed to do whatever he wanted to them.

Some of the mightiest heroes of the planet were gathered hear, but the threat didn’t fall on deaf ears. Damian could be a little intense, and scary sometimes.

They weren’t fooled by Dick’s agreeable smile either. A smile that didn’t always reach his eyes. They knew if they messed up, he would find every way to rip them to shreds. Dick was often seen as the calmest of your children, but his anger issues from when he was a child were never far. And he could be ruthless.

Diana held her first, and your daughter babbled to her excitedly.

Of course, being only 4 months old, she just talked gibberish. And it was so sweet, how Diana answered her : “What ? *babbles from your daughter* Noooooo. *more babbles from your daughter* I can’t believe he said that. And then what ? *babbles babbles babbles*”.

After that, Dick took her back, and asked if someone else wanted to hold her, under yours and Bruce’s watchful eyes.

Then again, in the room, many were also already parents and knew how to hold a baby. They weren’t too worried, except-

Except Dick, that little sh-, had found a new game in recent weeks. Whenever he gave his little sister to someone else...he pretended to drop her.

And it made him laugh and laugh and laugh, to give mini-heart attacks to EVERYONE whenever he gave them his baby sister to them, as they always all panicked and screamed seeing her dropped (Dick always had her secure, he only pretended to drop her of course).

“Oh no careful !” He’d scream, dropping his arms suddenly (she looooved it) while still gripping her, and they’d scramble to catch her, and he would just laugh.

“You little-” Hal’s colorful words were...imaginative. And Damian was inclined to agree, since his brother pranked him oh, I don’t know, only about A HUNDRED TIMES since their little sister was born.

You wouldn’t admit it, but it made you laugh a little too. Even if he got you a few times as well, pretending he was going to drop her. Then again, you trusted your eldest son. Once you and Bruce wouldn’t be around anymore, you knew he would hold this family together.

************

Martha was a calm baby. She let people hold her, curious enough to not fuss and watch them all intently. It made Barry uncomfortable, how she held his gaze and would just stare at him.

She would stare, and stare, and stare, and her bright blue eyes were EXACTLY like Bruce’s, it felt like being stared down by a miniature version of Batman.

He didn’t like it. So he gave her back to whomever was closest, which happened to be Jason

Jason, who was always very delicate with his little sister. He handled her as if he’d break her. It broke your heart, to know he probably literally thought that.

He refused to hold her at first, sure he would hurt her. But she kept reaching for him, crying when he wouldn’t take her, and she was so adorable and-

He caved, of course. After a little while. And he was oh, the fixture of a patient older brother. You knew he would ALWAYS be part of her life, and step in whenever she needed to.

Right now, she was grabbing his hair, which were getting quite long, and pulling hard on them as babies do and- He didn’t say anything. He just let her do it.

You really hoped she wasn’t going to take advantage of this when she’d get older, even if you already had visions of her having her brothers and father wrapped around her little finger, having her sister too, and...apparently, the entirety of the JLA.

************

“How can such an a-hole make such a cute baby ?” Hal said, looking at the little girl he held. She was sort of dozing off, which for sure was adorable.

Bruce only glared at him, which amused Hal greatly. He just gave him the shock of his life, he could laugh at his expense a little, right ?

“I believe, to make a baby, you need to-”

“Um, no, Jon, please, I know how to ! It’s just-Oh, forget it.”

Flustered, Hal Jordan was flustered. Jon J’onzz didn’t seem to get why, but then again, human sarcasms and irony were still very foreign to him. He always answered pragmatically to people.

Talking about pragmatism. Hal handed back your daughter to Tim, who slipped her in his favorite new contraption : the baby carrier 3.0 (of his own design). Made so he could do all sort of work while having her strapped to him. Keeping an eye on her at all time.

Tim adopted the use of a baby carrier, so he could still work while taking care of her (he stole the idea from his dad, who definitely hung around with his daughter EVERYWHERE with that thing...which was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen, this tall broad man and this tiny baby attached to his chest).

It was so cute to see her little feet dangling while he was working. Damian nearly lost it when he found Tim WELDING two pieces of metal together with the baby carrier on his front. Tim merely said : “I made her baby sized goggles and a fireproof pyjama, she’s fine, and she likes it” and indeed, your daughter didn’t have a scratch, and cried when Damian hauled her away from the sparks. Ooooh the smug look on Tim’s face as his brother gave her back reluctantly. Damian’s was utterly vexed.

Vexation he forgot just a few minutes later, when Martha decided she had enough of sparkles and made little sounds of protest (not quite cries), and reached her little arms to him.

As of now, Tim had her in this baby carrier again, and was strolling around the JLA headquarters, showing his new little sister to everyone.

************

Cassandra didn’t say a word, as per usual. She never liked big crowds, only spoke to those she trusted the most. Her brothers, her parents.

She only gestured to others. Remained quiet. But she monitored every little movements.

Hawkgirl approached her sister ? Noted. Carefully studying every move. Martian Manhunter asked if he could hold her ? Noted.

Superman made little babbling sound at her, while her dad held her ? Noted, with amusement. It was funny, to see one of Earth’s mightiest hero grimacing to a baby to make it laugh, while said baby was held by another mighty hero who was utterly stoned face. Cass’ smiled at her dad, who smiled back for a fraction of seconds before Clark shifted his head up to look at him too, and Bruce went back to his : “ -_-” face, by reflex really.

Cassandra never spoke much, but she loved a lot. And her way of loving her little sister ? It was to always keep a watchful eye on her, so she could react to whatever she needed. And give her space when she needed to.

She had many brothers, she often joked that if she lost one, she could just replace him (a joke you didn’t like much, because you knew it was just a self-defense from her, to shield her heartbreak at the mere idea of loosing a sibling), but only had one sister...

Yes. Your youngest child definitely held a special place in everyone’s heart.

And you could see her slowly creep in every members’ of the Justice League’s heart too.

Gods, you couldn’t even imagine what would happen to the person who would one day try to hurt her. You could bet, though, he wouldn’t get out of it unscathed (to say the least).

************

Martha was particularly fond of Duke’s inuit kiss. He had the capacity to instantly calm her, and he could easily feel her inner emotions.

As she was passed around everyone, and she started to be tired and cranky, he simply retrieved her and brought her to Bruce, because he knew that was her preferred spot to fall asleep.

He kissed her on the forehead, and sure enough, she was asleep before he could pull away. Your husband put a warm hand on Duke’s head, a warm smile on his face. That boy could always tell what others felt. It was a gift, really, and sometimes a curse as others’ feelings could leak into him. Which is to say that sometimes, when others were sad, he would be too...

But for now, he felt content. At peace. Because his dad was, too.

And indeed, Bruce, holding his sleeping daughter against his heart, his hand supporting her head gently, was utterly at peace.

He loved the idea that his arms were his daughter’s favorite place to sleep, and never refused to hold her to help her sleep. You sure were a little jealous, but he told you : “They all always come to you when they need comfort, one kid out of six, you surely can give me, right ?” and though you knew he was joking, it broke your heart a little.

So, you let go of your jealousy, and let him have this indeed. Martha was definitely a daddy’s girl. And that was good. You could see the impact on your husband, how having a baby in the house soothed him.

He loved his kids so damn much. He often said they were his lights. And the fact Martha found comfort with him ?

It reminded him of his own parents. How he would go to his mom, a Martha too, to find the same comfort. To fall asleep in the same way.

You let go of that small jealousy, as you saw her falling soundly asleep, cuddled up against her dad. And it was funny, how Bruce would take his usual Batman persona, stone faced, standing straight and-

Having one of two fingers held tightly by both of his daughter’s little hands. She grabbed them as he took her, one hand holding her (she was so tiny...and he was a big dude), the other, she used as a sort of comfort plushy. She held them with all her might, as she slept.

And Bruce was speaking battle plans, and you had to fight the laughter in you as all your friends couldn’t help but stare at the scene, not knowing how to feel.

Hal snickered at one point, and he made a gesture for him to zip it, and it was quite an odd scene, as he held his daughter and did that childish gesture.

Seriously. That guy !!

************

Batman smiling was...different.

They all got caught staring at him, when he had his daughter in his arms. Staring because his broad smile was-

Well. Broad.

It wasn’t his signature smirk. It wasn’t a soft smile. It wasn’t a half-smile. It wasn’t a smile that you could only see in his eyes.

It was a full on big ass smile (as Barry would say).

And sure, they already saw him smile like that (although he schooled his face back to “stone mode” when he noticed them looking), never that much.

As if the birth of his daughter gave Batman another new light, and it was just impossible to yield to his old demon, to brood, when holding that ray of sunshine.

It made them all feel...soft. And warm.

It was nice, to know the bat wasn’t just a machine. They forgot it sometimes, that he was, in the end, “just” a man. They forgot why he became Batman. The pain and guilt he held inside. But moments like this, they were reminded of it.

That the Batman didn’t exist because of hatred, but because of love.

Because he loved his parents, his city, and now-

His family.

It was nice, to get reminded that there was a man below the mask. And though he could be an “a-hole” sometimes, there, holding his baby, he was just that.

A loving man, who wanted to protect others.

************

You made a note of every moments you would cherish forever of you introducing your daughters to them all :

1. The shock on their faces as they beheld the sight of THE BATMAN holding a baby against him, and being so delicate.

2. Your daughter being the star of the show, all of them smitten with her !

3. Your friends wanting to hold her, and how they beamed at her (and she beamed back, except with Barry, whom she only stared at for some reasons).

4. Dick’s “game” of pretending he dropped her, and their panicked reaction.

5. The success of Tim’s baby carrier, and how now, there was always one up in the tower.

6. Diana and how it definitely seemed like she would move mountain for that child.

7. How Clark’s eyes filled with tears again, as he looked at Martha. Because it made his friends so happy. You and Bruce. And especially Bruce. And Clark was an emotional man, who suffered too, and was just so happy “The Batman” was happy.

8. How Jason seemed at peace with his little sister, and how whenever he held her, he seemed less weary than usual around everyone. Like Cass, he didn’t like much being amongst too many people. But now, it felt like he had an “emotional support baby”. Ah.

9. Their reactions, past the shock, welcoming that new life in the world.

10. How Bruce monitored his daughter being held by his friends, holding your hand. Even after all those years, when he acted close to you in his Batman costume, it made you...feel things. He always kept a facade as Batman. A facade that would crumble with his kids, and especially with you. PDA weren’t rare. And even after years at his side, it always made your heart beat wildly when he showed affection towards you in public, because it meant-

Oh it meant so much.

And you had so many more moments forever ingrained in your heart from that day spend up at the JLA’s headquarters.

Too many to count. Some sweet, some hilarious-

All positive feelings.

And as you and your family stepped back in the zeta tubes, your friends saying “byyyyye” to Martha especially, with their baby voice (making Bruce roll his eyes), and as she waved at them-

Waved for the FIRST TIME ever oh.

Oh it felt like you would die of happiness.

And still, Bruce’s hands held yours tightly.

He knew.

He knew, you were the source of this happiness he thought he could never find again.

He knew.

He never loved like that before.

Yes. It felt like you could just die of happiness.

__________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you enjoyed this. Don’t hesitate to comment and/or reblog, it’s always greatly appreciated :).

Also, initially, the child was going to be Thomas (their son in my “main” storyline, if you already read a few works from me), but last minute, I was like : “wait no, I want to give Bruce a daughter, and the boys a sister. Also, poor Cass eh ?” and here we are. I really hope you liked this; I’m nervous for some reasons. Anyway. See you soon with another one ?

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kahin · 3 months ago

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DO NOT SCROLL, URGENT CAMPAIGN.

[pt: Do not scroll, urgent campaign.]

I am making this post to clear up some confusion regarding Momen's campaign that may have prevented people from donating because it made them sceptical about its legitimacy. This confusion is most likely caused by the failures of machine translation.

Momen is attempting to evacuate ten family members, with the cost of evacuation for each being €7,000. So far, the amount raised is only enough for two. The family members are:

Father (suffers from hypertension, heart disease, and diabetes)

Mother (suffers from hypertension)

Three brothers

Two sisters

Ahmed's (the eldest brother) children, Malak (newborn) and Muhammad (who has Polio)

Reham's (eldest sister) newborn, Amir

Their newborn babies are suffering from a number of respiratory issues. One of the younger members of his family contracted Hep C due to water contamination (and I apologise for spreading misinformation, as I truly did think it was his child, but it isn't). His hopes are to get his family evacuated so they can all receive urgent medical attention.

Momen is only 24 years old. He is bearing an unimaginable weight on his shoulders. He's essentially been begging for several months now since the campaign's creation to an uncountable number of strangers who have bared little to no heed to his campaign. His campaign has struggled to receive any traction. His blogs have been banned and suspended, over and over and over again. And honestly? Even with all this information in mind, I still don't know what it takes to get you people to donate.

Is it the lack of money? Well, that's not it! You people help raise thousands for AO3 yearly. Is it that you think he's a scammer? He's been vetted as number 125 on that spreadsheet, so that's probably not it unless you think Palestinians are scammers by default. Why are you letting yourself become desensitised to their pain? Why does every facet of their misery need to be posted for you to care, and even still you won't?

The campaign is behind on its short term goal. Severely behind, only €854/3724. The deadline is the end of tomorrow, and if we don't reach it then God help us, because then it will take even longer to fill the gap for the funds for each member's evacuation. Every campaign is urgent. Even the ones that don't list it as such. They're undergoing bombing, they're forced to evacuate from place to place while ill and terrified. You think they want to live another minute of this? Another day?

Every amount helps. I feel like a broken record saying this. Just donate. However, you much you can. 1, 20, 5, if that's the most you can. Share as much as you can.

[pt: Every amount helps. I feel like a broken record saying this. Just donate. However, you much you can. 1, 20, 5, if that's the most you can. Share as much as you can.]

Do not tag as ANYTHING if you're reblogging this post. No tags whatsoever. No "long post", or any organisational tags.

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#fisher spotlight!

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myladysapphire · 4 months ago

Text

To Gwayne, with love

tired of being ingored and undervalued, you take your dragon and leave to find the one person who sees you for who you really are; your uncle, Gwayne Hightower

based of this request

word count: 5,086

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), incest, angts, love letters (if the title wasnt a hint), fluff, love confessions, not proofread!

Gwayne Hightower x neice!reader

Masterlist

Growing up as the eldest child, and eldest daughter of Alicent and Viserys you had long felt unwanted and overlooked.

Where your twin, Aegon, was seen as a future king, the rightful heir, you were seen as only a daughter, pushed to the side and out of the limelight.

Always looked over, even when it came to marriage. Where it made sense for you to marry Aegon, Heleana married him instead.

You were overlooked, and often forgotten.

Even events held in your honour were overshadowed, be it by your twin or your eldest sister Rhaenrya.

Countless nights tears had filled your eyes as you were pushed aside in favour of another sibling.

It was a funny thing really, you were the eldest daughter and yet were the last to be betrothed, excluding Daeron that was. And yet you had once been dubbed the Realms heart, you had been kind and sweet. But years of neglect, being undervalued and ignored had turned you cold and restless and made you a rebel. Where your uncle Daemon was the rouge prince, you were the defiant princess.

You had stopped waiting by the sidelines, stopped keeping too yourself and your thoughts stopped being quiet. you become outspoken, even more so when your brother was crowned king.

But all that seemed for nought as you were now meet with roll of eyes and the sound of the key locking your chambers from the outside.

You couldn’t say you were surprised, not when your mother seemed to hate you more than Aegon.

She never understood you, only one person had.

Gwayne Hightower, your uncle.

You and he had an understanding that others could only envy, you couldn’t put it into words but ever since you had meet him you felt inexplicitly drawn to him.

And yet you had only meet him thrice.

But those three times amounted into countless letters.

When one was sent two would follow, even on the road Gwayne never failed to write.

Until now.

You were sat in your chambers and an ache in your chest as you read through the last of Gwayne letters. Near two weeks had passed since his last had arrived, and these past two weeks had been when you had needed his letters the most.

dearest niece,

Words cannot describe the joy I felt upon seeing you the other, even if only for a few hours before my departure.

You have grown ever so beautiful, and I envy those who got to watch you became the beauty you are today, though I envy them more for the endless pleasure of your company.

Who knew your wit was even more compelling in person, dear niece?

I sure did not and yet your endless humour is known what I crave as I am stuck of this endless rode with ser Criston as the most interesting of my companions.

And let me tell you he is far duller than you painted. (Not that you painted him to have much of a personality aside form swords and a love for oranges.)

Perhaps it his cockiness or the self-righteousness he has as the new lord hand, which makes his so dull. He seems to love to point out his new station to us all, especially my Hightower knights, as if that will win him any favours.

Though I truly believe he thinks himself funny, though his voice is always far to monotone to decipher what is an attempt at a joke or what is orders and commands.

Gods, I wish I had stolen you away with me, even just to share the looks at Criston ‘jokes’ as he calls them.

Honestly, he is perhaps the dullest man I have ever met, what your mother sees in him I’ll never know.

But I must admit little of my time is spent completing his joke when I cannot stop thinking of you.

Tomorrow, we ride to rook’s rest, he says he has some plan, I do not quite believe it will be a good one, but I shall prey to the seven that we will be victorious, and I may see you again.

Yours, Gwayne.

You had replied far to quickly though being locked n your chamber after yelling you would ride your dragon to meet your uncle would of course leave you with little to do.

To Gwayne,

I am truly sorry you are stuck with such a dreadful man, if I had gone with you I can assure you however there would not have been much time to dwell of Cristons joke attempts, I would steal far to much of your attention, perhaps enough were you were unable to fight in this silly little war.

I do hope your thoughts of me do not distract you too much.

I wish you great luck in at rook’s rest though I fear you may have to face Meleys, and in which case I pray my mother sees sense and allows me to ride out and join the fight on moonfyers, though I Highley doubted.

But from Aegon’s visit to my prison cell (my chamber’s), it seems he is quite egar to fight, though seeing as how the small council so easily sway his mind, I doubt he will, unless he drinks himself into a false sense of courage that is.

But I pray you do not repeat those words, especially to my mother.

I too crave for your presence; it is a misery that despite years of letters we have met thrice! And the third was only days ago.

Perhaps when you go, we can make your visits permanent.

I pray for your victory uncle, and your next letter.

With love, your dearest niece.

You had sent that letter 12 days ago; rooks rest was 10 days ago.

Of course, the journey back must be accounted for, but no one had any news, besides the death of Meleys and the princess Rhaneys, the queen who never was.

You had rather liked her, in fact you hoped to model yourself of her in some way. Though you had no right to morn you suppose, you had never spoken to her bar the common pleasantries.

You stood starting out of the window, craving the day you could smash them down and make your escape. Though where you would go, you did not know. Before the war you had one destination in mind, oldtown. Now there was no one there for you, just as there wasn’t anyone here.

The forgotten daughter. No matter how defiant you became you would only be tolerated and ignored. Your actions simple receive a tolled eye and of course, the action of yet gain being locked in your chamber.

Perhaps if your mind hadn’t been so caught up in your loathing and thoughts of jumping from your window onto the back of moonfyers you would have noticed the door opening and the feel of hands slowly covering your eyes.

You jumped in shock as your eyes were covered, only to calm down when a voice spoke.

“Guess who?” a mans voice teased, though it was the voice you had ingrained into your memory.

“Gwayne” you breathed turning around.

He laughed as you hugged him.

“When did you get back?” you asked, arms still wrapped around him.

“Only moments ago,” he sighed, “did you miss me?” he teased.

Slapping his arm lightly, you stepped back “of course not”.

“Hmm…really?” he tilted his head, clicking his tongue, “I could have sworn your letter said- “

“Stop it!” you said hitting his shoulder again.

“Fine!” he said raising his hands up in mock surrender, “only if you top hitting my arm, your poor uncle has just fought a battle”.

You rolled your eyes “and am I to presume you were victorious uncle?”

“If you could call it that”.

“What do you mean?”

He looked nervous, an expression you had never seen on him before, “your brother Aegon- “

“Aegon went! That fool”

“a fool who got himself injured”.

“what” you asked, voice full of concern. Though an outcast, overshadowed by your twin, you still cared for him greatly, even if he never showed care for you in return.

He explained what had happened and your mind spun, no one had said a thing to you and yet your twin brother lay dying in his rooms.

“I must go see him” you rushed out, heading towards the door, only for Gwayne to grip your arm.

“Go later.” He insisted, “for now stay with me! and here my woeful tales of battle”.

Shaking your head with a laugh you sit back down, listening to tales of Gwanye’s journey and of the battle, and all thoughts of Aegon were forgotten.

You woke up finding yourself wrapped in Gwayne arms on your settee. You didn’t remember falling asleep, only talking and watching the sunset and rise once more.

It must have been past noon and yet no one had knocked or come to see you, not that they had before now.

You looked over at Gwayne, he was tired, even after hours of sleep he still had bags under his yes.

Removing yourself from his arms slowly, you made your way out of your rooms and towards your brothers.

Aegon lay alone. The room dark and empty, bar his aching, unconscious body, half his body covered in bandages, his body deadly slit and his breath shaky.

You moved closer to the bed, coming forward and placing a soft kiss on his brow.

He may be terrible, drunken whoremonger but he was still your brother.

“Aegon” you breathed heavily, taking his unburnt hand in yours, “I- “ the doors opened, and your mother barged in, “get out!” she demanded.

“Mother, I- “you said standing up.

“Get out” she said once more, coming to sit by Aegon’s side.

Standing up and moving towards the door slowly, “he’s my brother, I have every right to be here!”

She looked at you, scoffing “that matters not, now leave and go back to your rooms”.

Rolling your eyes you left and stormed back to your rooms.

“Gwayne” you breathed, seeing him now awake and sitting up, reading a book.

“How Is Aegon” he asked, as you approached.

“a sleep? I do not know my mother sent me out only a few moments after I had entered.”

He kissed his teeth, “your mother has changed much recently”.

“Recently? She has always been liked this, with me at least”

“I know, my darling… I think she- “he stopped himself, looking at you, “I am not sure what she thinks actually, me and her where never close growing up”.

You huffed, looking over at him and realising that the book he was reading was in fact your diary.

“Is that my diary!”

“no” he said dragging out the word as he moved the book out of your reach.

“Where did you- how did you”

“Do not worry how your “beautiful and daring uncle” found it”.

You gasped, crawling over him to try and reach your diary.

He laughed, as you grasped at the book, “give it back” you insisted.

“But Gwayne would be never- “

You reached the book, slapping it out of his hand, “how much of it did you read?”

“Why did you not want me to read of how much you missed me?”

“Gwayne” you sighed, looking at him, you were practically lying on him, your hands leaning on chest as you reached for your diary of the floor.

“darling” he replied, before looking at you sadly, his hand reaching to caress your cheek, “I have to go soon”.

“To your chambers or to oldtown?” you asked sadly.

“Oldtown, I – “

You interrupted him, “when?”

“We leave after dinner, we thought it best to travel at night, out of sight of dragons”.

“I see” you said moving off of him. He reached for you, trying to draw you back towards him.

Everyone always leaves or ignored you. It seemed no matter how close you got you were so easily abandoned, never once had someone stayed.

“I would ask you to come, but your mother would never allow it” he said shaking his head.

Why would she allow it? It would make you happy and the gods know how much your mother craved your misery.

“Do you think there will ever be a time when-when we can spend limitless time together?”

“I hope so, I- “he always stopped himself from saying it, saying the one thing they both craved.

“As do I”

The rest of the day was spent together craving to spend every second that they could together, but in the end, he had to leave. He was bound by duty and honour.

Saying goodbye this time was harder than the few times before it. You both stood in the courtyard, his men stood the side, their own conversations distracting them.

Your mother having said her goodbyes, and had left the courtyard already, leaving you both to say your goodbyes.

“I hope it is not to long before I can see you again” you said looking down to thew ground and kicking at the gravel.

“As do I” Gwayne said grabbing your hand and kissing it gently.

Your eyes shared a look, a look saying everything you both couldn’t.

“I’ll miss you” you breathed heavily, eyes never leaving his.

you both stepped closer, now inches apart.

You moved your lips to kiss his cheek, only for Gwayne to move his head and capture your lips with his, in a soft delicate kiss.

The shadows of the keep kept you had hidden from wandering eyes as you kissed.

It was short but sweet and left you both wanting more as he was forced to step back from you.

He whispered softly “I will think of you, always”.

“As will I” you said, reaching into you hem and pulling out your handkerchief, you had sown the initial of your name and his ono it, and placed it in the palm of his hand.

Closing is hand you softly placed a kiss onto it.

“goodbye” he spoke, before moving to his horse and riding off, sending you a final look before he left.

The days tricked by, blurring together. Aegon’s recovering slow and with little change.

You stayed in your room, much to your mother’s delight.

Letters were exchanged between you and Gwayne. But this time the letters seemed different, this time they were bolder, your feelings no longer hidden.

Dearest,

I left you only moments ago and yet I miss you already.

That kiss was everything and more, I cannot believe it took us so long to do it, even of it happened by a mistake.

I am sorry our reunion was so brief, and I wish I was bound to you and not duty.

I shall write again soon, but in the meantime, I hope the thought of you in my thoughts will tide you over.

Yours, Gwyane.

Dear Gwayne,

You just left my side and yet apart of me left with you.

I hope your thoughts are filled with me as mine are of you.

The walk back to my room was a long one, longer than it had ever taken me as I had to drag myself away from you, away from moonfyers as thoughts of chasing after you filled my mind.

My mind was a mess all night, much to my mother’s disappointment. Though I doubt she noticed my mind was with you and not in the keep.

This morrow I was awoken absurdly early and summoned to the small council!

And before you say anything I am not sure as to why, even after attending it.

I seemed to be there as a way to boost Aemond’s moral? Or should I say the prince regents.

I was simple them to watch plans be made, and to be told of an alliance, a marriage between me and some lords son, I believe some Tully.

I refused and they demanded.

I offered my dragon, they refused, and I demanded.

They claimed a woman in battle would only lead to a loss. Even if moonfyers is bigger than most for her age and even rivals Caraxes.

Anything else was ignored and dismissed and I was quickly ushered to my chambers and forced to plan a wedding.

A wedding I wish was with you.

I do not know what to do, uncle.

Please tell me to come to you, and I will.

Yours always.

My love,

The days are endlessly long, and I find myself craving you by myside more than ever.

You chase my every though both awake and asleep.

And forgive me for beings bold, niece, but I can, no will not hold back what I have longed to crave any longer.

I wished I had placed you upon my horse and ridden of with you into the night, defying your mother and brothers’ commands.

But I want you, more than I need air to breath. And for so long I have defied myself and held back my desires, my love for you.

I beg you, come to me.

Forget their plans and demands, come to me and marry me.

I am set to arrive in old town in two days, leaving you plenty of time to come to me.

With love, Gwyane.

To Gwyane,

I will come to you, it may take a few days, but I cannot stay here. And I will not stay away from you any longer.

With love, your heart.

you sat in your chambers, contemplation how you to leave.

Though there were secret passageways in your room, you had never used them. They were like a labyrinth in truth and the one time you had speed in them you feared you would get lost.

And the guards stationed outside of your door were stationed for the exact reason you were event you were currently planning.

your other would never let you go willingly, not now especially.

But then again you doubted she would notice you were gone, at least for a day or two.

Heleana may notice, but she wouldn’t say a thing.

Aemond had just been given what he always wanted and would flaunt his power as much as he could, meaning he’d keep put of your way, in fear you would ‘act up’, as he called it, and embarrass him.

This meant that the guards were your only issue, and perhaps Larys spy’s. though you cared not for them for what could they do to stop you? Tattle to Larys who would sell the information for the sight of your mother’s feet? Even then you would have a few hours.

Luckly for you however, you knew your guards. And they had a penchant for wine.

“Steffon, Gregor” you whispered opening your door a bottle of Dornish red in hand.

“Princess” they nodded, tuning around to ignore you.

“You must be bored” you started, “perhaps you can join me for a drink?” you said, fluttering your eyelashes.

They turned to face each other unsure of what to do, “oh come on, know one will care. You’ll still be guarding me, won’t you?”

Their eyes wandered to the bottle of wine “is that the only bottle, princess?”

You scoffed, “of course not”.

They smiled and ushered you in to your chamber.

It was funny, you must have done this a dozen time before and they still fell for it every time.

And being such lightweights, they were quick to fall into a drunken sleep, allowing you to grab your bag and make a run for the dragon pit.

Running through the streets of Kingslanding at night were dan, especially in your rich clothes and jewels.

And seeing as you had only walked to the dragon pit once or twice, with the company of a dozen guards, the run was a lot longer than expected.

Getting lost in the never-ending streets of flea bottom was easy, and before you knew it you had somehow ended up on the streets of silk.

“gods” you mumbled, looking around in search of a sign to lead you in the right direction.

You could see the dragon pit, so at least you weren’t too far away, only issue is the brothel with the name ‘Chantaya’s’ seemed to stand in the way of a quick exit.

“sister” you heard someone say, and the sight of Aemond exiting said brothel, through you into a sprint once again.

You were sure you looked like some pick pocket as you ran through the street, Aemond hot on your tale.

And with being such a stranger to kings landing you found yourself meeting an end and Aemond catching up to you.

“Let go of me” you muttered trying to pull yourself free from Aemond’s grasp.

“Who let you out” he sneered.

“Does it matter?” you sneered in return, “what are you even doing here?” you asked, and Aemond face dropped.

“I could ask you the same”.

“I wanted to go to the dragon pit” “the dragon pit” he reiterated, not believing you. “To what? Declare for the usurper?”

“Gods no” you near yelled, “I- “you were hesitant to tell him, having never got on along with him and never having much to say to him at all, this was honestly the most you and he had spoken since the start of the war. “I wish to go to oldtown”.

“why”

“To…to see Gwyane”.

“Our uncle?”

“Do you know of another Gwyane I could possibly wish to see in oldtown?” you said snidely.

He hummed, looking at you with a smirk, “I am your prince regent, I command you know” he said, “one word from me and I could have you locked in the black cells, or I could command you to go to oldtown to gather forces, with Gwayne”

You hated that you looked at him hopeful and hated even more that if he asked you would beg.

“But why, dear sister? Should I command you to oldtown? You are the future lady Tully after all”.

You scoffed, “oh please, we both know the Tullys are hardly loyal now and the second old Grover Tully dies they’ll declare for the black’s”.

“true”

“And why would you want me here anyway? I do not listen, and I defy your every move, sending me a way would better your rule, would it not?”

“Oh sister, you truly have been undervalued. Fine I shall take you to the dragon pit and order you to oldtown.”

Order you? As if there was a single part of you that did not already crave to be there, with him.

The walk to the dragon pit was a quiet and awkward, with Aemond pulling you by the hand, a tight grip as if you would try to escape.

Not a word was exchanged even as you entered, only your words commanding the dragon keepers to fetch you moonfyers and Aemond stood beside you in his usual stance.

He gave you a taunting wave as you took flight, and you never looked back.

It took five hours for you to reach oldtown.

A storm thundered as you entered the reach, rain dowsing your and obstructing your vison. Had it not been for the bright blue scales of your brother’s dragon, Tesserion you were sure you would have flown into the Hightower.

Landing, you were quickly greeted with guards and the face of your brother Daeron.

“Brother” you greeted as you slide of your dragon, “a pleasure to see you!”

“And you, Gwayne said you were coming” he nodded, hand raised to stop rain pouring over his face, “come in, quickly”

The Hightower, was exactly as you envisioned, filled with riches and symbols of the seven. It looked like a museum almost.

You were brough into a room lined with seats and walls filled with books. Painting filled with the faces of old lords and ladies, and tapestry depicting Aegon s landing in oldtown and his coronation.

“niece” you heard a voice breath, causing your inspection to come to a halt as you turned and faced Gwayne,

“uncle” you breathed in return and not a moment later were you running into his arms and your lips meeting once more.

This kiss was different than the one in the courtyard, this one was filled with longing, filled with pure love and desire.

Years of want filling you mouths your lips moved against each other.

“Gwayne” you whispered against his lips, as you both breathed heavily, your heads leant against each others.

He whispered your name in return, “you came” he breathed, not quite believing it.

“of course, you asked…and the prince regent commanded it”

He laughed “what?”

“when I was making my mistake i came across Aemond leaving a brothel” you laughed, “and somehow he decided to command me to oldtown to gather forces”

“oh?” he said, head tilting, “I see…does that mean you now command me?”

“do I not anyway?” you asked tauntingly.

He laughed, grabbing you to him once more and pulling you into another kiss, “I believe we command each other, my love” he said breaking the kiss.

“my love?”

“my love” he agreed, caressing your cheek, “I love you” he finally admitted.

And you smiled. Looking at him as he always looked at you.

He always had seen you, understood you when no one else did.

And the look in his yes, it was pure love and you had never felt more seen than in this moment.

“I love you” you replied, and he smiled.

“come with me” he said taking your hand and leading you up to his room.

His room, though perhaps smaller than others, was still large and full of all things Gwayne. With his own mural and tapestry.

“do you like it?” he asked, taking note of your eyes that had not left the tapestry he had commissioned.

“is that?” you asked, unsure if you were seeing it right.

“Moonfyer and you, yes”

“gods, Gwyane” you said breathlessly, a mural of you riding moonfyers for the first time, your second time meeting Gwyane and the first time you and he realised the bond between you both.

You turned to face him, and kissed him once more.

Unlike before this kiss was heated, passionate and full of lust.

His hands moved to your waist, as you slowly moved towards the bed, your hands reaching and pulling at his clothes, taking them of and leaving him in only his small clothes.

Your dress wet and soaked was quickly torn of you intern, leaving you only in your soaked chemise.

Their lips broke apart as her legs hit the bed. Taking each other in Gwayne moaned at the sight of your breast peeking out through the now sheer chemise.

“can i?” Gwayne breathed, hand coming to toy with the strap of your chemise.

You nodded, allowing your chemise to slip and leaving you bare before him.

“gods” he breathed, “ you are beautiful” he said, before pushing you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, nipping at your skin, causing you to moan softly.

He kissed his way down your body, before he reached your cunt.

“can i?” he asked once more, eager to taste her cunt.

“yes” you said, not quite sure what he intended to do until you felt his nose nudge between your thighs and a slow lick alone the length of your cunt.

groaning at the taste, he quickly went back licking and tasting your cunt, like a man starved. You moaned pleasure, hands moving to tug his hair as he found your clit.

Touching yourself had never felt like this, the sheer pleasure you felt as he sucked your clit into his mouth was better than any orgasm you had brought yourself to before, even more so when you felt his fingers toying with your entrance.

You tensed as his fingers entered you. They were thicker and longer than your own and you started to feel the stretch as he pumped you full of his two fingers.

You moaned, your body moving off the bed as you his fingers pumped in and out.

His hand moved to your waist gripping you down as he continued to fill you, your moans filling the room as his third finger entered you and you soon reached your peak.

He slowly backed away from you, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick cock.

“oh!” you spoke, at the sight of him.

“oh? Not good enough niece?” he asked teasingly.

“gods, it, yes” you nodded, reaching out to him.

He laughed, before slowly crawling onto the bed, his body covering yours. Taking your lips his, in a passionate and heated kiss, as his legs slowly parted yours as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he breathed against your lips, hand holding your waist as his cock teased your entrance.

You nodded, reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes”.

At the word he entered you slowly.

You groaned at the stretch but found no pain as he entered you.

His long cock filling you, a bulge appearing in your stomach as he allowed time for you to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to the nape of your neck “can I move?” he groaned, as your walls wrapped around him.

Nodding, “yes” you breathed. And wasting no time he began to slowly pump in and out of you.

You moaned as he thrusted into you, your hips moving to meet his as he picked up the pace.

He groaned at the feel of you moving against him, has hands gripping your waist as he started to thrust into you faster, he soon found that sweet spot inside you, that quickly turned you into a moaning mess. And soon you were wrapping your arms around him, clawing at his back as you felt your peak it washes over you and the feel if his seed filling you.

Your breath was heavy, his even heavier as he lay on you, his face still in your neck leaving soft kisses as he started to move of you slightly.

“marry me” he said, giving you soft kisses between his words. “this place is filled with septon’s it will be easy to find one to marry us.”

“okay” you said, looking into his yes.

“okay?”

You laughed, “yes, Gwyane I will marry you.”

taglist

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @RAYNE TARGARYEN 2 @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @cloboboo @aegonswife @nessjo @helo1281917 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @perla434 @lilah102-blog @scorpiosmalfoy @random-human02 @f1wh0recom

to be added to taglist

#house of the dragon #hotd #gwayne hightower x fem!reader #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower #house hightower #gwayne x niece!reader #gwayne x targaryen!reader #freddie fox #gwayne x reader #ser gwayne #hotd season 2 #hotd spoilers #sacha writes ✍️

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tender-rosiey · 1 year ago

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pretty babies – gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: idk about yall but I love me some drunk gojo

satoru never drinks, but when he does, ohoho, you’re in for quite the ride.

today was one of the days when he was less of a chaotic handful but more of an emotional mess who apparently can’t even remember his own wife. you sip on your drink, ignoring the drunk satoru leaning on the bar.

he slurs his words as he tries to flirt, “you’re sooo pretty, y’know that?”

you nod with a hum and give him no further reaction. in situations like these, you figured out that letting him go all out until he is tired and sleepy is the best solution. it really is like treating a baby.

thankfully, after many years of being in the presence of one gojo satoru, you’ve built up some patience.

he rests his head on the counter and he looks up at you, eyes wide and in awe, “I bet,” he hiccups and it is followed by a silly little giggle, “we’d make superrrr cute babies! like all round and chubby and we’d much on their cheeks like…mochi! yes! mochi…now I am hungry.”

a smirk makes an appearance on your face as you glance at satoru who is blabbering about building a family with you and spoiling you rotten.

a little teasing won’t harm anyone. so you quip, “you know,” and his attention is already on you, “you already gave me three super cute babies.”

his mouth is wide open in disbelief as he sits up, “no way!”

“yup! and they’re waiting at home for us.”

his eyes crinkle because of his wide grin, “really?!” he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, “you got photos?! please tell me that you do!” and he switches to a pout so quickly, it gives you whiplash.

however, you gladly pull out your phone and show him the multitude of photos you have.

ones ranging from him being in a crib to help the youngest one sleep to ones with two of the three kids ganging up on him and him desperately calling for your help. satoru goes through every single photo, head on your shoulder and cheek squished.

he is silent throughout it all and when he is done, he looks up at you, “so that means that you’re my wife?”

you nod and your fingers, naturally, find their place on his head. he feels a little shiver of satisfaction before he smiles, one lovesick and silly smile, “I really hit the jackpot.”

you laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I guess you did.”

so you take him back home where the kids are already asleep. satoru crashes on the bed right away, steady breaths filling the room. slowly, you take your place beside him and you feel his arms wrap around you.

he pulls you closer and buries his face in your hair. and you close your eyes, letting yourself be lulled to the land of dreams.

when you do wake up, you’re greeted by satoru literally on top of you and deep in sleep. you would like to let him sleep more especially since he looks so comfortable, but you’re going to suffocate at this rate. so you pat his back lightly, “satoru, honey, wake up.”

he groans and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling something along the lines of ‘five more minutes’.

not budging? then fine, you decide. you take as deep of a breath as you can then call for your kids, “who will help mama?!”

it’s quiet and you can feel satoru smirking against your skin. it looks like he won, but then a bunch of footsteps are heard and it’s your turn to smirk.

your husband lifts his head to glare at you—of course, not without sporting one of his famous pouts.

the door is then slammed open and your eldest son is there, “WHO DARES HURT OUR MAMA?!”

he gasps, very dramatically like a certain someone, and points at his dad, “PAPA?! you’re suffocating mama!”

“again?!” your daughter pops up from behind her brother, staring at her dad in disbelief.

they both stand beside your bed glaring at him and he glares back, the three of them forgetting why you called for your kids in the first place. so you do them a favor and remind them, “satoru…I AM GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS!”

satoru is pulled back by his shirt and your kids take turns in—trying—to beat him up. you get up, greedily breathing air till you’re satisfied. you ignore the screams of your husband until you’re done with your morning routine.

luckily enough, when you got out of the bathroom, you found no one except your husband.

laying on the ground.

presumably dead.

with a bunch of drawings on his face and his hair contained with multiple hair bands.

you snap a picture of him very quickly then you sit on the ground next to his corpse. you poke his butt and he groans, making you giggle, “what happened to the strongest sorcerer?”

he turns towards you with a small frown, “his pretty wife didn’t kiss him good morning so he had no energy to fight,” his head snaps towards the two tiny figures giggling behind the door, “these monsters.”

they squeal and run away once again before he catches them.

you gently take the hair bands off, “you’re lucky that our youngest devil is still asleep,” you then smooth down his hair and pat his head, “I love the smiley faces on your cheeks.”

he whines and rests his head on your shoulder, “stop bullying me!”

you hum and stroke his hair, “you know, you did something pretty cute yesterday.”

“I am always cute; what’re you talking about?”

“you flirted with me, your wife, and said we would make ‘super cute!’ babies,” you reveal and satoru seems unbothered. in fact, he seems proud and very happy with himself so you continue, “so I had to remind you of our three little devils and then I showed you pictures.”

he stands up, posing all confidently, “what can I say? I excel at everything even being cute—“

“then you cried like a little baby when I showed you my picture post labor and kept apologizing.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @jisbizarre @kunikida-simp @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #jjk x you #gojo x you #jjk imagines #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo x you #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk gojo x y/n

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peachpitfics · 6 months ago

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Cruel Summer

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Following your romp with Benedict Bridgerton in his art studio, he asked your brother for your hand! Now you're on your honeymoon, and you're getting a little bored, posing for him. A lady must find ways to amuse herself!

Length: 2.1k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light bondage, food play.

a/n: This is an anonymous request for a continuation of 'Guilty as Sin'.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Benedict Bridgerton escorting you to view his artwork, at his private studio, was just the beginning of your story. After sneaking around behind your family’s backs for a small while, Benedict gathered enough courage to ask your eldest brother’s permission for your hand. This seemed strange to the y/l/n family, not one of them had ever seen the two of you together, which showed how much attention was paid to the middle child. Benedict made sure to ask you in the Bridgerton drawing room, just before family tea, for everyone to see. He made such a big to-do, confessing his love to you, before every member of the Bridgerton family in attendance. It felt particularly safe there, amongst people who took interest in who you were as a person.

It was bittersweet to have siblings who offered their time, their attentions, and their hobbies freely. You learned so many new things from each of them, from pall-mall, to sewing, even horse riding. In six months, you were married and moved into the Bridgerton house for the meantime, until after your honeymoon. You would never outright tell Benedict you did not want to move out, but he felt it, he knew.

“My love” Benedict whispered, shaking your shoulders gently. Honeymooning in Paris was something the two of you had instantly agreed upon. So far, two weeks of sleeping late, making love, and eating copious amounts of divine food was your only concern. Of course, there were a lot of other lovely things Benedict had planned for your honeymoon – river boat rides and romantic dinners, every moment between locations filled with fine bread, wine, and cheese.

“Yes, my love?” You grumbled, rolling away from him, clearly having not had enough sleep.

“You must wake up, it is midafternoon!” Benedict exclaimed with a chesty laugh, rolling you back into him and tickling your sides. You howled with laughter, pushing him away playfully, leaning up to distract him as only you knew how. His lips were warm and wet against your own, seductive, and luscious.

“You must come downstairs! The housekeeper has left us a feast and I wish to paint my gorgeous wife” Benedict slid his hands around your naked body, lifting you out of bed as you groaned.

“Again?!” “My darling, I’ll be painting you until death takes me” Benedict chuffed, sliding sideways between doorways and down the stairs to the sitting room.

“What if death takes me first?” You smirked back, figuring you had him cornered here.

“I have made God promise I am to go first. And even so, I’ll have every detail committed to memory and these paintings and sketches of you now to keep me company” Benedict squeezed you in his arms, he didn’t like to joke about parting ways, in any sense. It was his truest nightmare, his deepest fear.

Benedict set you down in the sitting room and gestured to what he and the house keeping staff had readied. Paint, canvas, a staging area - littered around the room were bowls of fresh fruit, bottles of wine, candles surrounded by plates of cheese, oil, and bread. You relaxed back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, cupping your breasts sweetly. You giggle a little, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He nodded to your position for the rest of the day, a chair with the back faced to a very high window, casting a streak of sunlight down upon the spot.

There you sat, for hardly an hour before your mind began to wander, circling Benedict in your mind like a shark in open water. You had learned to become comfortable being nude for long periods of time these days, however Benedict had learned nothing of your persuasion or power when your attentions were dashed. Your movements started slowly, daintily taking your hands to your knees, and spreading your legs wide upon the chair. Resting a little, relaxing your back and cupping your own breasts. Your fingers gently grazing your nipples. But nothing, no attention from your husband. He sat close to his canvas, squinting into the detail of his work, his realm of perception clearly inhibited. With a huff and a light moan, you continued to palm at your own breasts, fingers trapping your nipples in a pulling motion- you decided to pretend Benedict wasn’t here. Suddenly, taking notice, you watched as his brush left the canvas, his mouth hung open a little and he removed his glasses, almost tossing them to the floor.

“What are you doing, darling?” He mumbled, swallowing hard. Your hands ran down your mid-section, over your belly and down your thighs sensually, soft mewls slipped from between your lips. Benedict loved the sounds you made.

“I’m just amusing myself, continue on with your painting my dear” Your replying comment was nonchalant in the best way. Benedict almost looked offended that you would suggest he could go back to painting.

“How do you suppose I paint, while my wife ravages her own body before me?” He blinked at the audacity of you.

“Well, dear one, this is what you have chosen for this afternoon’s activities… Now, you must endure” You smiled, sliding your hand between your legs, dipping your finger in the wet warmth there. Benedict shuddered, wishing any part of him were exchanged with your finger.

If there was anything you had learned about Benedict in the last six or seven months, it was that his desire for you was consistent and all encompassing. Benedict watched on as your fingers circled your clitoris, you moaned and exhaled gently - his paint brush never did return to the canvas. Beads of sweat formed on his brow line, the hot, French summer finally taking its toll in the late afternoon. You reached to the small stool next to you, extracting the tiniest jar of honey. You looked into Benedict’s eyes, holding the jar above your body, dangling your head back and pouring a steady stream of honey over your chest. The sun glistened, reflecting little pools of light off your sticky, sweet skin.

Taking your finger, you swept up your belly from your navel, placing your finger on your tongue in clear view of him, and that was his very last straw. Benedict threw his paintbrush to the ground, thrusting himself up and out of his chair, to march across the room to you.

“What do you think you are doing, wife?” Benedict’s voice rasped, his eyes were so dark, the colour had all but gone.

“Playing, my love” You replied cheekily, sucking another nip of honey off your finger. He all but growled watching your finger slip between your lips, his breath quickening in sheer lust for you.

“Are you punishing me for getting you out of bed?” Benedict’s face was so close now, his nose tip to tip with yours. There was such tension in his jaw, his teeth clenched hard in his fierce need of you. You fluttered your lashes back at him, refusing to answer with your words.

“Do you have even a semblance of an understanding of what you are doing to me? This is unbelievably cruel,” He breathed heavily down on you, desperation flooding his body and adrenaline surging behind, “You can’t begin to imagine the things I want to do to you right now” His stubble gliding across your ear and cheek, making you shudder.

“Show me then,” You challenged, “You are my husband after all”.

Benedict’s hands slowly moved to his shirt, shedding it, and throwing it somewhere behind him. He acted with a sureness and a strength you hadn’t yet experienced, but it was drawing you in. Undoing his pants, Benedict took his hard member into his hands, stroking himself against your chest, lathering it in honey. His other hand wove into your hair, tangling the perfect hold, bringing you forward.

“Oh. Goodness. Seems I’ve made quite a mess of myself… Wife, help me clean it up” He smiled smugly down at you.

Something feral, untamed, was unleashed inside you, your eyes darkening, “Certainly, my lord”. As your tongue reached out to meet his tip, his head lulled back in pleasure, his hand still wrapped around the base of him. Your lips parted slowly, encasing his first inch, and swirling your tongue around to suck the honey from him. Benedict exhaled headily, his breaths deep, but quick with the slightest grunt mixed in. The way he sounded, even now, made you wetter and wetter.

There was something maliciously keen in Benedict’s eyes as he watched from on high, your pretty mouth sucking all the honey off him and then some. His body gently rocked forward, his hand heaving your head forward, onto him in a more perverse manner. His head hung back in greedy caution, grasping to the very last straws of his gentlemanly nature as you sunk to the base of him, your tongue wriggling slyly underneath.

His fingers grew taut in your hair, reefing you backwards. His laugh was low, both impressed and challenged by your ministrations. In the next moment, Benedict had hauled you up and over his shoulder, he was charging up the stairs, mad with temerity.

Entering the bedroom, he threw you down on the bed, scrambling for any piece of material in reach, he began ripping. Four pieces of silk fabrics in his hands, he loomed over you in profound ownership. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, Benedict taking each wrist and ankle, tying them to each to their respective corner post of the bed.

“There” He stood, hands on his hips, proud of his work, “There’ll be no more of that”. Clearly touching yourself had had a dire effect on Benedict’s work ethic.

Kneeling between your thighs, his naked body unjustly out of reach, Benedict’s supercilious smile sick with goofy dominance. He thumbs over your folds, his finger descending, extorting whines of pleasure you never knew existed within you. Broad strokes of the most painful, unapologetically evil gratification. Benedict’s tongue flicked over his lips hungrily.

“I need you” The words escaped you violently, the thrill of his touch, his charming smile becoming all too much for you. He ignored you and continued another moment or two, reducing you to a begging mess beneath him.

“Shall I oblige you, my marvellous bride?” His grin was jubilant and all knowing, his hands came down on your wrists, pressing them into the bed. Benedict’s brutal, familiar kiss sown into your lips permanently, as he pushed inside of you with surprise.

“Y/n” He groaned, growled with unrepentant lust. Your eyes cast wide, the length of him stretching you mercilessly while he thrust in and out. His villainous face claiming your entire consciousness as he used your body to his pleasure, decadent facial expressions, and damnable sounds he was delivering straight to your right ear.

“You feel unimaginably perfect” Benedict groaned, your moans joining in alongside his.

Hands grasping for silk to hold onto, you longed for your own release, grinding your hips back against Benedict’s. His movements became more ferocious, keeping up with the sounds you were making. Frenetic energy began to move through your body, your ravenous thirst for him finally quenched. Every muscle in your body engaged in vivid contortion, Benedict pressing into you as deeply as he possibly could before his own body found its own powerful release.

Covered in sweat and honey, you laid tangled together for a moment before Benedict recalled your wrists and ankles were tied. He chuckled with giddiness, sitting up to admire his knots.

“You look fantastic like this, perhaps we should do this more often” He suggested sweetly. His thumb caressed the side of your face, your panting, tired body unable to give a response. Benedict littered your face and neck with loving pecks.

“We could be one person and I still would never be close enough to you. No amount of time with you will ever satisfy me. You are the centre of my world” Benedict whispered gently. Every day you were reminded of the intoxicants his poetic mind dabbled into every sweet thing he said to you.

In another instant, Benedict had sprung from the bed, running downstairs. You laughed, thinking he must be returning with some of the food the housekeeper had left strewn about his romantically planned afternoon. Instead, Benedict returned with a new canvas and his implements. Your mouth fell open all on its own, blinking furiously in his direction as he set himself up off the side of the bed.

“If you could just stay there, like that, that’d be great!” Benedict’s grin, excruciatingly exquisite, and concocting. He held himself with such pride in his agendum, cockiness seemed to fill the room in a potent manner.

“BENEDICT!?” You squealed, tugging frantically on his bindings, your laughter filled with rich resolve.

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

tagging: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you'd like to be added to this tag list, please let me know!

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kisskuni · 5 months ago

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pet names

↳ pet names that the demon brothers like to call you by. [all brothers x gn!reader]

tags: just fluff! + pet names lol. ‘doll’ is used once, i wouldn’t consider it feminine but take it as you will. otherwise gn :)

notes: first fic on this blog heheh. reblogs are super appreciated, please and thank you <3

lucifer ━━━

a gloved hand runs through black hair, the eldest brother glaring at the paperwork covering his desk. you wonder for a brief moment if he thinks the look he’s giving it will force it away.

“stressed?” you ask him, a teasing tone to your voice.

he hums in discontent. “something like that.”

you straighten from your spot leaned against the door frame and walk over to him. your hands come up to his shoulders and rub at the muscles there, hoping to bring him some sore of relief.

“need any help?” you ask.

“i’m alright, darling, but thank you.” though still clearly stressed, he offers you a small smile.

mammon ━━━

“you will not believe what i just got!”

mammon walks into your room previously unannounced, dorky smile painting his face. he holds up two slips of paper, waving them in front of your face. it takes you a moment to read the writing.

“ooh, are those tickets? for that movie i wanted to see?”

he beams at your excitement. “i’m the best.”

“yeah, you are,” you smile and reach for the tickets in his hands. “thank you so much.”

“anything for you, doll.”

leviathan ━━━

“hey, can you—“ levi speaks to you, but frowns at his game. “no, i can’t heal you. there are two other characters who can.”

you watch him curiously, watch as he rolls his eyes at the person he’s playing with. “what’s up?”

he takes one side of his headset off. “i’m sorry. can you grab me my water? it’s on my nightstand.”

“oh, sure.” you reach over from where you’re tucked comfortably into his bedsheets and grab the water bottle on his nightstand. “here.”

he turns around him his chair to grab the water bottle you toss at him. he catches it easily and smiles at you. “thank you, honey.”

satan ━━━

“are you comfy?”

you sit upright with a small yelp. you look around, gathering your thoughts back. what was supposed to be a quick lie-down on the couch in satan’s room turned into a nap, apparently.

“i- uhm. yeah.” you answer quickly. one hand comes up to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“you can rest if you’re tired, my love. i have some reading i wanted to catch up on anyway.” satan says, moving to sit beside you.

you take a deep breath and ponder the offer for a moment. instead of responding, you simply lay back down and use his lap as a pillow. he’ll get the idea eventually.

asmodeus ━━━

the squeal asmo let out was beyond exstatic. he clasped his hands together, smiling ear to ear.

“ah, i’m so excited.” he said, running off to some corner of his room.

“is it really that exciting?”

asmo frowns at you rather dramatically. he feigns a look of offense and continues to his closet, you following a few steps behind.

“oh, i love how this would look on you, cutie.”

you smile fondly at the nickname and continue to watch as he picks out various clothes for you to try on.

beelzebub ━━━

“y’know… doesn’t matter how strong i am, you’re a demon and i really don’t think i’m capable of spotting you at the gym.” you say.

you know he likes to work out, but him lifting weights worried you sometimes.

“it’s alright. i promise i’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

you glare at him. you know he will be, but a little voice in the back of your head won’t let you stop worrying about him. you suppose its a good thing.

belphegor ━━━

“good morning,” you tease, nodding toward the alarm clock that read 4:38 PM. “nice of you to rise so early.”

he grumbles at you, wiping sleep from his eye. he takes one of the pillows he’s been snuggled up with and tosses it at you, playful smile making its way onto his face.

you bat the pillow away, smiling back at him.

“you are so mean.” you claim, though still smiling.

“mhm. whatever you say, lovely.”

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sodaabaa · 6 months ago

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suitors and sutures

anthony bridgerton x reader reader is named the diamond of the season but despite this, she finds the men of the ton avoiding her rather than courting her.

tw: none

Y/N marveled at the grand ballroom adorned with crystal chandeliers that sparkled as they caught the light. Her heart racing with nerves and excitement as she entered to make her debut. This moment would define her prospects — her entire future. She recalled everything she’d been taught for this moment, every movement she made exuding grace and poise. Y/N wore only the finest, her ivory gown embellished with dainty beading, her hair done up in an intricate updo with curls hanging out to frame her delicate face. She looked and felt like a princess.

She took slow, steady steps towards the throne. Queen Charlotte sat before her, trained on her every move as she approached, scrutinizing the girl before her. She stood before the Queen, a pleasant smile on her face as she curtsied — a movement marked by grace, as though she were floating. She rose after a heartbeat, looking up at the Queen in reverence. The Queen regarded her for a moment before leaning forward and with the gentlest of touches, held Y/N’s chin. She placed a kiss on her forehead, Y/N’s heart nearly burst. The Queen sat back, nodding as she declared Y/N to be the diamond of the season. She curtsied once more, thanking the Queen for bestowing her with such a title. When her presentation had come to an end, Y/N returned to her place beside her parents who gave her at least two dozen kisses, proud of their daughter for catching the eye of the Queen.

“Y/N!” A hushed voice came from her left – she looked for the source of the sound and found Francesca Bridgerton leaning behind her brothers to catch her best friend’s attention. Y/N leaned behind her parents to return her excitement.

“Francesca!”

“You’re the diamond! My best friend is the diamond! I knew only you could impress the Queen” She exclaimed, her face bright with excitement.

“I’m not certain I believe it,” she replied. It was true she couldn’t quite believe that her weeks of training for this moment had paid off.

“Hush, you two. There are still debutantes making their entrances,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the sound of the eldest Bridgerton chastising them. Francesca giggled at her friend’s blatant disregard for Anthony’s warning but swatted a hand at her to hush before Anthony scolded them once more.

Y/N lived directly across from the Bridgertons and thus, she grew up alongside the rather large family. Where Y/N was all mischief and confidence, Francesca was timid and quiet – as a child, Y/N had been drawn towards Francesca, the yin to her yang. They’d been inseparable since then. But with Francesca came an abundance of brothers and sisters who she’d grown comfortable with over the years – all except for the eldest, Anthony. Constantly reprimanding his siblings – and Y/N – for their behavior, always being the end to their fun. Though she had to admit, Y/N found great joy in taunting and teasing the grumpy viscount, making him lose his patience and composure was one of her favorite pastimes.

“Be mindful of who you are speaking to, Lord Bridgerton, I am the diamond of the season after all,” she retorted.

He gave her a pointed look which she returned, “it’s far too easy to rile you up, my lord,” she mocked. Next to Anthony stood Benedict, amused at their little spat.

“How you managed to become the diamond is beyond me,” he shook his head in annoyance.

She giggled but before she could tease him any further, her mother pulled her arm, motioning for her to face forward.

“Dearest, now that you are the diamond, you must be mindful of your behavior – especially with the Bridgertons,” she said, insinuating that she needed to be more ladylike with the Bridgerton boys.

“Of course mother,” she replied with a sigh.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“May I have this dance, Miss L/N?” She nodded graciously, accepting the man’s offer despite her feet begging her to take a seat. She’d danced with at least a dozen earls and barons and a few viscounts here and there – all of them vying for her attention, trying to impress her so that she might be receptive to their courtship.

As they danced across the ballroom, the man droned on about his accomplishments – she’d periodically offered nods and smiles to appear engaged but truth be told all she could focus on was the pain in her poor feet. She looked around the room, trying to find something more interesting to think about when her eyes clashed with Anthony’s. He was already staring at her when she found him, his face set in a scowl.

Someone’s grumpy tonight, she thought.

“My lady?” The man snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Pardon?”

“Do you not think it is the most riveting exercise – chess?” He repeated his question.

She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes, had he been droning on about chess this entire time?

“Yes, of course. My apologies, all of this dancing has made me awfully parched,” she put on her most damsel-in-distress demeanor.

“I shall retrieve a lemonade immediately, my lady.”

Finally, she sighed, making her way towards the viscount pouting in the corner.

“Has someone insulted you tonight or is your face just permanently set in a scowl?”

He rolled his eyes, “You abandoned your dance partner.”

“Would you believe me if I said he’d been giving a lecture on chess the entire time?”

He scoffed a laugh, amused at the torture she had to endure. She leaned against the wall next to him, facing the dance floor. She saw the man looking for her in the crowd, two lemonades in hand as promised.

She turned to Anthony and threw him a dazzling smile, “Would you be so kind as to dance with me?”

He looked down at her, not buying her flirtatious act. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the chess man making his way toward her.

“Please, have mercy Viscount Bridgerton,” she said more sincerely.

He looked up for a moment, muttering a curse under his breath before taking her hand with a sigh. She smiled, triumphant.

“Miss L/N?” Chess man said.

“Apologies Donovan, I shall be taking this next dance with Miss L/N,” Anthony replied before she could say anything. He didn’t wait for a response as he pulled her to the dance floor.

“My hero,” she said, exaggerating her relief. He tried not to smile at her antics.

He led them across the dance floor, expertly guiding her through as he held her gaze. She was impressed by his ballroom skills – though she couldn’t say she was surprised, the grouch of a viscount had always been the type of person to excel in anything and everything he did. They danced quietly, a relief for Y/N after having to endure hours of talking. The two of them were content, comfortable to dance without exchanging meaningless pleasantries or droning on about their achievements. When the music slowed, signaling the end of the night, he bowed, she returned the gesture with a curtsy and with that, she bid the viscount goodbye.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Warm rays of sunlight nudged Y/N awake. Her mind instantly recalled her dance with Anthony last night. She sat up, suddenly remembering that there must be dozens of suitors calling on her right now.

Shit. She scrambled out of bed, calling on her maids to come and help her find the appropriate dress for the morning. She quickly did her hair, pinched her cheeks to bring some color back into her face, and rushed downstairs to the drawing room. There sat her mother – alone?

“Mother? Were there no callers?”

Her mother set down her teacup on the table in front of her, “perhaps it's simply too early, I’m sure there will be callers soon,” she replied.

She sat beside her mother, confused. She recalled Daphne Bridgerton’s experience with being the diamond. She had suitors instantaneously, regardless of the time of day. The maid brought her breakfast, setting it down on the table but Y/N found herself lacking an appetite. Her aching feet were a reminder of the many men who took a vehement interest in her the night before – where had they all gone?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Perhaps it was simply too early in the day?” Francesca echoed her mother’s sentiments as they walked arm in arm around the park. The two oldest Bridgerton brothers trailed behind them, acting as chaperones (primarily for Francesca while Y/N merely intruded).

“Are you men not up at ungodly hours in the morning to tend to whatever business it is you have?” She called out to the two behind her.

“I certainly am not,” Benedict replied, “and you, brother?”

“Any respectable man would be up bright and early. I should think your suitors from last night are all lousy men you would not want courting you anyway, Miss L/N,” Anthony replied gruffly.

She rolled her eyes at his remark, “Do vampires require sleep?” She asked no one in particular (though she had hoped Anthony would understand the insult).

“Vampires cannot roam freely in the daylight,” Anthony replied. She smiled, satisfied.

Francesca and Benedict laughed, “I do hope whatever poor fellow does end up courting you has thick skin and an abundance of patience,” Benedict said.

“I think you should be a tad bit nicer, Y/N. Men have unfortunately fragile egos,” Francesca replied, leaning in closer to whisper the last part.

“Heard that,” the two men behind them said in unison.

That night as Y/N lay in bed, she raked over her conversation with the Bridgertons. Perhaps her behavior had scared away her potential suitors. She knew she could be a bit brash – not always able to hold her tongue or control her facial expressions but as Benedict said, she simply needed a man who could handle her colorful personality.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Dearest Reader,

It appears our revered diamond may not dazzle as brightly as Her Majesty had envisioned. Whispers abound that Miss Y/N L/N finds herself unable to secure a suitor. Despite her dances and promenades with many a gentlemen, a courtship remains elusive – let alone a match. Was it an error on the Queen's part to name Miss L/N as the diamond of the season? Or perhaps, dare I say, is she not quite equal to the challenge?

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown

Tears stung Y/N’s eyes as she read the excerpt of Lady Whistledown’s paper. It’d been weeks since the start of the season and she was still unable to keep a man interested long enough for him to court her. She took Francesca’s advice and started being kinder, showed more enthusiasm the interests of whomever was conversing with her but it was all in vain – for the next day they were nowhere to be found.

She took deep breaths to steady herself as she prepared for yet another ball, no doubt the Queen would be watching her closely trying to determine the reason for her diamond’s failure. She had not only embarrassed herself and her family this season but she risked embarrassing the Queen as well. The thought made her stomach churn with anxiety but she pushed them away, determined to redeem herself tonight.

Y/N entered Lady Danbury’s ballroom with her parents, eyes instantly seeking out Francesca for support. Instead, she found another familiar face standing before her, hand out in front of him asking for a dance.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. L/N,” Anthony nodded to her parents, “may I steal Miss L/N for the first dance?”

They let her go with an enthusiastic nod as Y/N took Anthony’s hand. She muttered a ‘thank you’ to Anthony as they made their way to the dance floor. She knew she had to stay busy to avoid the Queen’s ire. As they made their way to the dance floor, she noticed one of the men who had walked with her days ago sporting a rather painful-looking black eye. Ouch. What had he done to earn that? She wondered.

“Lady Whistledown was quite harsh,” He broke her out of her thoughts as they started dancing.

“Perhaps she was right,” her voice was quiet.

Anthony’s face contorted in disbelief, “If there’s anyone who can handle being diamond, it's you, Y/N. Lady Whistledown is merely looking for a way to undermine the Queen’s judgment.”

She looked up at him, surprised at his reassuring words. But it was not enough, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was simply unmarriageable.

“Perhaps Francesca was right, I should be more gentle, more kind, and gracious to the attentions of men,” she said.

Anthony scoffed, “Perhaps those half-wits shouldn’t be courting you at all.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back the laughter that escaped her – had he just called the other men half-wits?

“Then who should be courting me, Lord Bridgerton?” She looked at him with curiosity.

“Whoever shows up at your house, calling upon you at ungodly hours in the morning,” he replied, a small smirk gracing his lips.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Miss! You have a caller!”

Y/N groaned, lifting the duvet over her ears. One of the maids pulled back the curtains, the sudden burst of light making Y/N flinch.

“What is it, Celia?” She muttered to her maid, still half asleep.

“You have a caller, Miss! Your mother needs you to come downstairs straight away.”

She sat up, cursing the awful man who had decided now to call upon her. She threw off the duvet, begrudgingly leaving the cozy bed to get dressed.

She made her way down the stairs to find out who had so callously pulled her out of bed at this time. She could hear her mother from the hall, stalling him by talking about all of Y/N’s achievements and something about how happy she was that a longtime friend was courting Y/N.

Longtime friend?

She turned the corner, entering the drawing room when she stopped in her tracks. The sight of the familiar silhouette jolted her awake.

“Anthony?”

He turned, standing up with a smile.

“Y/N, mind your manners, that is no way to refer to Viscount Bridgerton!” Her mother called out.

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. L/N, we’ve long since passed the need for formalities, have we not?” He asked her.

She nodded, unable to find any words to construct a proper reply.

“May we have a moment, Mrs. L/N?”

“Of course!” Her mother scurried from the drawing room, leaving behind a maid as the chaperone.

Anthony motioned for her to sit as he sat down on the sofa. She took a seat in front of him.

“What’s all this?” She asked, still in shock.

“I believe I should begin by apologizing,” he said.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, “Whatever for?”

He exhaled, “What Lady Whistledown said,” he paused, “you had – or would have had many suitors calling upon you had I not interfered.”

She looked at him, still confused – perhaps even more so. He took her confusion as permission to go on.

“None of those men were decent nor respectable. Your behavior felt like a challenge towards them -- I overheard several of those half-wits making bets on who’d be able to,” he cleared his throat, “break your attitude.”

Y/N sat back, astonished by the sudden revelation. He brought a hand up to his chin, stroking it as if in thought. Her eyes fell to his knuckles, red as if he’d –.

Realization dawned on her.

“Did you – one of the men I talked to, he had a black eye at the ball last night! Anthony did you –,” Before she could finish, the look on his face gave her all the answer she needed. He looked smug, pleased with himself.

“He deserved it," he said as he sat back.

“Anthony! The poor man probably needed sutures!”

“I was not going to allow such things to be said about a lady in my presence!”

She laughed, “What then, you were protecting me from them?”

He nodded, “They were unworthy of you.”

“And you are?” She challenged.

“If you’ll have me,” he replied.

She watched him, still reeling from the fact that he’d punched another man for her. That he’d been keeping all of those men away from her. It made her stomach flutter. She knew of his fierce protectiveness through Francesca and Daphne but being on the receiving end of such gallant behavior – if there was a man who could handle her, it had to be Anthony with his quick wit and no-nonsense attitude that he threw out the window when it came to matching her in a spat. He fit her in every way, though it took her until now to realize it.

“How could I refuse my hero?”

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton netflix

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ithebookhoarder · 1 year ago

Text

Truth or Dare (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)

Summary: Married only a few months, you are very much one of the Bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... Also known as, you, Benedict and Eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far.

A/N: What can I say? It’s well and truly fluff-tober over here on my blog 😅

Warnings: Alcohol, mild smut, swearing, Anthony losing his mind, typical Bridgerton sibling shenanigans

Masterlist

There weren’t many nights Anthony spent away from your side.

They were few and far between, but that didn’t lessen how irksome you found them when the odd occasion called for him to leave you over night. You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you never truly slept well without your husband there to hold you.

Of course, it had to be one of those nights that you truly found yourself in a spot of mischief. Though, in fairness, it had all started rather innocently.

Un-beknowst to you at the time, it was Benedict that had been first outside on the garden swing, sipping from a stolen bottle of whiskey he’d pilfered from the kitchens. He’d been sat there perhaps ten minutes by himself, staring at the stars and lamenting about some problem or other.

Then Eloise had come along.

As was her habit - you later discovered - she had been swift to follow her brother’s example, sneaking out of the house in her nightgown for a reprieve in the night air… and a cigarette or two. Apparently her second-eldest brother was something of a soft touch when it came to her, not that you could blame him for it. You doted on Eloise too.

Then, finally, completing the eclectic cast of characters, there had been you.

Now, in your defence, you hadn’t intended on going out into the garden that night, but had found no other alternative suitable given the blasted summer heat. It was worse tonight that it had been all week, and without Anthony in bed beside you, you saw little point in enduring with the effort of trying to get any rest.

So, you’d decided to make your way quietly through the house and sit outside a while, and pray for a breeze. You hadn’t, however, expected to find both Bridgerton siblings already sat there, having had a similar idea.

“My, what do we have here? Another night owl?”

It was Benedict who spoke first, smiling warmly at the sight of you appearing out of the darkness. He was quick to rise, offering you his swing as a perch to rest upon, beside Eloise.

You were about to protest that it wasn’t necessary and that you could find somewhere else to sit, but a warning glare from Eloise was enough to silence you.

She was all too eager to pat the seat next to her in invitation, looking remarkably pleased to have another addition to their little party.

“Come. Sit,” she ordered. “We were simply discussing how tedious Lady Tremaine’s luncheon will be tomorrow and how we could possibly avoid the whole thing. Now that you’re here, you can help us plot our escape. Benedict’s only suggestion thus far has been some kind of contagious summer cold.”

“I think I actually said that I would use such an excuse, sister,” Benedict corrected with a teasing grin. “Not that we would share it.”

“Traitor.”

“Hardly. It is every man - or woman - for themselves. Right, Y/N?”

“Alas, I think your mother would be rather suspicious at all three of us suddenly being absent,” you sighed by way of explanation as both their eyes turned to you. “Besides, I only came outside because of this heat, not to join some conspiracy.”

“Hardly,” Eloise chuckled. “We simply had the same idea, but I am rather glad you came to join us. Perhaps we should form some secret kind of club - Bridgertons against boredom?”

“And do what? Constantly find excuses not to attend social events we deem too tedious or odious to be dragged along to?”

“Sounds like a marvellous idea to me.”

“It would, sister dear,” Benedict teased. “You always have a talent for causing chaos and anarchy. You’d suit the cause perfectly, even if we both know our mother would never stand for it. She somehow sees through even our best efforts.”

“In which case, it’s time I take a leaf out of your book, Benedict. After all, you always say social events become far more bearable after a good drink or two,” Eloise smirked, gesturing towards the bottle of whiskey Benedict had been steadily nursing. “Perhaps I should follow my brothers example and learn to hold a drink, maybe then things will be more fun.”

“Oh no.” Benedict was quick to shut down that idea, holding the bottle possessively to his chest and shaking his head. “No. I am not allowing you to start drinking. Mother would have my head if she caught you, not to mention Anthony would have all ours heads on a platter in no time.”

The thought of it made you laugh. Your husband was hardly a tyrant, even if he’d been known to have a temper but he was easy enough to handle. A few soft words in his ear or a kiss on the cheek and he was putty in your hands, helplessly and completely in love with you. Just as you were in love with him.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of Anthony, Benedict?” you giggled, causing Eloise to join you. “I assure you, he’s more a kitten than a lion and he’d probably prefer you to allow Eloise to sample alcohol here, under your supervision, than when she inevitably decides to rebel and has her first drink later on, in the middle of some public ball…”

The warning was clear and you all knew very likely true. Still, Eloise was beaming in victory as Benedict cursed to himself, muttering about Bridgerton women and the likely death he’d receive should Anthony ever find out he had allowed Eloise to sample whiskey. “Just a few sips, El. I mean it.”

“Oh hush,” she snorted, taking the bottle before he could change his mind. She was quick to throw back her head and down a rather brave mouthful, causing you to laugh even harder as she scrunched her face up in disgust. “Oh! That is revolting.”

“I told you.”

“Now you, Y/N,” Eloise grinned, turning and offering the offending item towards you. “Go on. Join us trouble makers - I won’t say a word about it if you don’t.”

“Oh, for goodness sake… Give me that then,” you sighed, earning a cheer from them both, knowing it was better to simply surrender rather than try and fight their mischievous whims. It only increased as you took an ambitious swig from the bottle, wincing at the acrid burning sensation it left in your throat.

If only Anthony could have seen you. He’d have probably had some kind of seizure - especially as you took another quick swig before handing the bottle back.

“There. Your turn again, brother dearest.”

“My my. You really are quite surprising,” Benedict sniggered, before winking up at you in admiration. “Who knew it? You can hold your drink better than Colin. He seems cursed to choke any time he drinks anything stronger than a brandy.”

“Well, it is your sex that falsely deemed us the weaker,” Eloise quipped. “It’s not our fault you were ignorant.”

“I’d like to remind you I wasn’t part of that decision and you also looked ready to choke a moment ago, El.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re still one of the enemy,” she giggled, earning another raucous laugh from you. Oh, you loved her. If you’d ever been so blessed to have had a sister, you hoped she’d have been just like her. “Now, it is your turn again, brother.”

“Oh … joy.”

“Else we shall have to have some kind of forfeit.”

“A forfeit?” you scoffed, finding the idea absurd. “Like what?”

“How about… truth or dare?”

Benedict froze. “Oh no. Not again. Pall Mall is one thing but we swore we would never play that game in this family again-“

“But Benedict-“

“What’s truth or dare?”

Your innocent question ceased their bickering instantly. Their eyes widened as they turned to you, a knowing and nervous look passing between them. Somehow, you knew this evening was about to get wildly out of hand.

Sometime later, you’d been fully apprised of the rules of ‘truth or dare’. In fact, you’d been something of a natural at it, even if you knew the copious amounts of whiskey you’d all consumed was more than likely the responsible culprit. Else, you’d probably have known better and snuck back off inside before you could make a fool of yourself.

By the end of the night, Benedict had climbed a tree, confessed to being oddly scared of spiders, and been forced to sing the national anthem in French.

Eloise had also made an admirable effort, despite her obviously lower tolerance for drink. She still permitted Benedict to try and arrange her hair, before daring to steal a sock from Colin’s room whilst he’d slept. Then she’d loosened a leg on a dining chair. (Alas, none of you could remember which one but that somehow made it even funnier - even if it would not be come morning when you were forced to sit at the table for breakfast in some kind of roulette.)

You could only pray you didn’t choose said seat.

You could also only pray neither of your conspirators shared your contributions with your husband. You weren’t exactly sure how Anthony would feel at the fact you gone for a midnight paddle in the pond, nor that you’d mixed up the papers on his desk, all before finishing the night with a final dare that involved stealing several cakes from the kitchens… you still swore Mrs Reynolds would notice, come morning, that there were no longer twelve perfect cakes.

That, and Benedict had somehow knocked flour all over the counter, causing you all to erupt in drunken laughter as you’d bolted back outside.

Needless to say, you all looked a sorry sight as you lay in the grass together, staring at the approaching dawn. Had you not been so tired, or drunk, you may have suggested retiring back to your rooms before the house awoke shortly.

“Now that… was fun.”

“Fun? That was more than fun. I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

“Told you it was a good idea.”

You hummed in agreement with your sister in law.

“I can see why you all favoured this game so much,” you sniggered, winking at Eloise as she sat in the grass beside you. “I can also see why you all agreed to stop playing it… I don’t know what Anthony would say if he saw what we’d been up to.”

“Something sensible and disapproving most likely,” Benedict sniggered. “Our brother, and your husband, can be a right prig, no offence.”

“Oh hush. At least I didn’t let my sister dress me up in her petticoat when she was five.”

Benedict’s jaw dropped.

“Who told you about that?” he demanded indignantly.

“I have my sources.”

Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he turned his head to glare at his younger sister. “Well, you can tell your source that she’s going to have to find someone else to fetch her lemonade at the Cowper’s ball tomorrow night unless she apologises. You can also tell her that I’ll accept either a verbal or a written apology as long as it’s suitably abject. And that means very, very abject,” he added darkly.

“Tell me, Benedict, was it a lacy petticoat?”

With a wordless grunt of annoyance, Benedict groaned, but it was hard to hear over the laughter echoing from you and Eloise. You resembled more a pack of hyenas than two noble ladies - you probably looked just as feral after your night of mischief.

And of course, as was always your luck, that was exactly how your husband found you mere seconds later.

How Anthony had arrived without any of you hearing a carriage pulling up to the house at this time of the night - morning? You couldn’t be sure - was a mystery. Yet, there he was, hands on hips and looking thunderous as he stormed towards the three of you with all the fury of an exasperated headmaster.

“What in God’s name are you all playing at?”

You all froze.

It was as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you as your eyes widened, and you all turned to stare sheepishly at him.

“Oh, darling. You’re home?”

“Don’t ‘oh darling’ me,” Anthony sighed, attempting to scold you but without much success. His attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by his brother’s heckling, singing ‘here comes mother’ and that ‘someone’s in trouble’. That, and with the way you were lying, he was upside down. “What are you doing up at this god forsaken hour? And why are you … is that flour? And why are you soaking wet?”

“I went for a swim.”

“A - you went for a -“

“And Benedict did my hair,” Eloise interjected suddenly, waving her arms about as she gestured to the tangle of hair upon her head. “Isn’t it marvellous?”

Anthony’s expression very much said that he did not think it was marvellous. Nor did he find any of this vaguely amusing.

In fact, by the way he took a long deep breath, you knew he was doing his best not to lose his temper and wake the entirety of the household. His brow always creased like that when he was faced with dealing with his family, but the expression only made him seem more adorable and handsome to you, rather than authoritative. However, you’d never told him so, knowing it would hardly be deemed a compliment in his eyes.

You also doubted he’d appreciate your usual response right now, which was normally to kiss said brow until it eased back into its relaxed form.

“We were just playing a game to escape the heat, darling,” you soothed. “We couldn’t sleep and all had the same idea to seek refuge outdoors… we simply got carried away passing the time.”

“What game?”

“Pardon?”

“I said, what was the game you were all playing?” Anthony suddenly quipped, the warning clear in his tone. That, and his eyes landed squarely on his two siblings, who at least had the decency to look sheepish… and afraid. “Because there is but one game I can think of that would result in a mess like this one, and I’m confused, because I know for a fact that we banned that game under this roof, and any other roof that houses the Bridgertons.”

No one moved.

No one even breathed.

It was as if you were all too scared to risk answering Anthony, even if the empty bottle of whiskey did most of the talking by itself.

“I don’t recall the name,” you blinked. “Right, Benedict?”

“Oh, uh… we… we were just- Eloise?”

Eloise froze, the guilt written all too clearly on her face for her to even try and salvage the situation - though that could also be down to the whisky she had consumed… it was honestly hard to be sure at this point.

“Well, dear brother,” she began, only to trail off as Anthony lifted his hand.

The silence was instantaneous.

No one dared to say another word, let alone move.

You’d never seen Eloise or Benedict so still in your entire life. Hell, you weren’t even sure they were breathing - probably out of fear Anthony would decide to inform their mother about their mischievous exploits.

If Anthony Bridgerton was scary when vexed, then Violet Bridgerton was a nightmare brought to life in human form. After all, as the matriarch of a family of eight children, she had learned a long time ago how to keep her unruly children in line - a harrowing experience you had only had occasion to witness once or twice since your marriage into the Bridgerton family. Once had been when Colin and Gregory had broken a priceless vase when racing around the house, despite being explicitly banned from doing so. The other had been when she had caught Eloise and Benedict smoking outside on the terrace one night.

It was easy to say where your husband had inherited it from.

“Not. Another. Word,” your husband growled, bending down and sweeping you up into his arms in a move that made you squeal in surprise. “Right now, I am taking my wife to bed and I suggest you two do the same - after you clean up your mess. I’ll deal with the lot of you in the morning.”

A laugh escaped you as you tried not to look like you were enjoying the sudden turn of events too much. After all, you doubted he’d be too happy once you were more sober and he discovered the true extent of your nightly activities.

It was why you were only too happy to let him put you to bed, grumbling all the while about letting his siblings run wild. He really was most handsome when he was flushed - a fact you were reminded of as he hastily changed for bed, flashing you a tempting glimpse of his bare torso in the process.

You could tell without asking he was tired from his journey home, as well as fighting the urge to rip his hair out over the chaos he had found upon his return.

Thankfully, his need to be in your arms outweighed the need to scold you over letting yourself be drawn into his siblings’ schemes. All it took was you pulling him down onto the mattress, and climbing into his lap to turn him into a needy, lovestruck puddle.

You’d equally missed having him in your arms, but you’d be lying if you said that your sudden forwardness wasn't also due to a mixture of the whiskey you’d drunk, and the residual giddiness from a night of mischief. A confidence radiated from you as you began to run your hands over his bare chest, taking care to graze the areas you knew made him groan.

“You’re lucky I love you so much,” he teased breathlessly, visibly unable to refuse your advances.

“Is that so?”

Anthony chuckled, nodding as he surged his lips towards yours. “Yes, so come here, my delinquent drunken wife, and let me kiss you before you and those doe-eyes of yours drive me insane. Now.”

Your laughter and surrender was immediate. “As you wish.”

Alas, for poor Anthony, that was not the end of the ordeal.

In fact, it was the next morning as you made your way into breakfast that you faced the final consequences of your delinquency.

Despite wishing to remain abed for the entire day, you’d been granted no such reprieve as your maid had entered your room at the usual appointed time and proceeded to open the curtains with no regard for the fact that you had slept a mere handful of hours. Whereas you would normally greet the day with a reluctant smile, you were in no state to manage much more than a groan as you were harshly ripped from your slumber.

If you had somehow not yet come to the conclusion that last night had been a bad idea, then the sudden flare of pain in your head at the bright intrusion was all the proof you needed. That, and the sudden churning in your stomach.

You would never let Benedict or Eloise coax you into drinking with them again.

You had not realised, despite how the idiom went, that what went up was sure to come down again - and you had come crashing down.

Hard.

“If you’re ready to dress, my lady, then breakfast will be served shortly,” your maid chirped, a dress already picked out for you to wear. She either couldn't detect your fragile state, or didn't seem to care as she continued speaking at a painfully loud volume. “My Lord sent me to wake you as he is finishing business in the study. He was up frightfully early, I could scarce believe it went the housemaids told me they’d already found him awake when they went to start the fires this morning. Gave young Samantha a right fright he did, scribbling away at his desk.”

“Oh?” you croaked.

You hadn’t even noticed the empty space in the bed bedside you until then.

Clearly Anthony had risen early, if he’d even gone to sleep at all. Why were you not surprised? Your husband was perpetually in motion, always claiming there was something or someone that needed his urgent attention as the head of the Bridgerton clan. It was just one of the things that made you love him so much.

“Is he still there?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the young girl continued, breezing about your room. “And that’s not the only strange incident this morning. It will tickle you rotten when I tell you the latest drama, but you see, Mrs Reynolds was ranting and raving about how she swore she had made three trays of fruit tarts last night, yet this morning, there were only two. The youngest kitchen maid, Betsy, is convinced it must be a ghost but my money is on Carter - the groom’s boy - he’s always snooping about the kitchen...”

You winced. Ah. Maybe you hadn't been as stealthy last night as you’d hoped after all...

With as much enthusiasm as you could muster, you began to peel yourself from the mattress, trying to appear as if you were listening to your maid’s theories as she dressed you for the day. It then took all your resolve to make it downstairs and to the breakfast table without tripping over your own feet, or emptying the non-existent contents of your stomach.

To your relief, only Eloise and Benedict had so far taken a seat at the breakfast table - and both looked about as miserable as you felt.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, taking your usual chair next to the head of the table. You were quick to accept the steaming cup of coffee Benedict handed you, shooting him a thankful look. “Dare I ask how we feel?”

“I think better than you and my dear sister here,” Benedict chirped, gesturing at a miserable looking Eloise. She had her head in her hands and was desperately trying to look at the plate of food in front of her with something other than repulsion. “Then again, I must admit I am somewhat more experienced in the art of late-night mischief than you both. I also did not have to deal with my brother before going to bed - thank you, again, for that noble sacrifice.”

“Your welcome,” you chuckled, a faint heat rising in your cheeks as you remembered the exact events after you and Anthony had gone to bed. “I just feel bad that you both got left to clean up the mess.”

“Don’t be. I think we got it all.”

“You say that but I can’t remember anything after you started singing in French,” Eloise groaned, massaging her forehead once more. “I have the oddest feeling we may have forgotten something.”

You paused. You could only hope for your sake she was wrong.

However, you were saved from such discussion by the arrival of the rest of the Bridgerton bunch. All conversation about your night-time escapades were quickly forgotten as Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory entered the room, bickering about something you couldn’t quite make out. They were swiftly followed by Violet and Francesca, who both looked unfairly cheerful for so early in the morning.

You could only wish to look so fresh and composed before your first cup of whatever caffeinated beverage you could get your hands on.

Then, finally, came your husband. Entering the room last, he turned and shot you a warm smile. Clearly, your shenanigans had been forgotten - for now - replaced instead by the memory of your other activities, much to the relief of you and your co-conspirators.

In fact, you swore you saw Eloise exhale a breath of relief when Anthony didn't immediately launch into one of his lectures. Instead, he chose to join the rest of his family in helping himself to the awaiting breakfast spread, laid out on the sideboard for them, listening to some ongoing debate between his mother and youngest brother.

“-but you said we could visit the park this afternoon.”

“I know, sweetheart, but I have to take Francesca and Eloise for their final fittings at the modiste. We shouldn’t be too long, and we can go after? Unless, perhaps your brothers will take you. Colin? Benedict? Anthony?”

Benedict looked physically pained at the idea of an afternoon at the park, what with his current delicate constitution and all. You honestly couldn't blame him. “Well, I uh - have a drawing class, this afternoon. Very last minute. Sorry.”

“And I... um, have a meeting at the club?” Colin stammered hastily. “Anthony?”

“Please, Anthony?” Gregory begged, all but pouting at his older brother as the pair made their way to the table. “I promise I’ll do all my lessons this week without complaining if you say yes. I’ll even let you have my pudding tonight.”

“As you asked so nicely, brother, I don’t see how an hour or so at the park could do any harm -” Anthony began, pulling out the chair next to you and lowering himself onto the seat in a moment that felt like it lasted forever as a horrifying sensation swept over you.

You remembered what you’d forgotten.

The chair.

“Anthony, wait-!”

The sudden crash was startling, as was the sight of your husband being sent flying backwards as the chair collapsed beneath him.

No one moved.

No one said a word.

Benedict looked across at you and Eloise, the horror clear in his eyes as he choked the word you felt on the tip of your tongue: “Run!”

#Bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #ithebookhoarder #thesilentmage #masterlist #Violet Bridgerton #gregory bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #jonathan bailey #colin bridgerton

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live-laugh-neteyam · 2 years ago

Text

The Moon ||| neteyam x human!reader

masterlist

epilogue

pairings: neteyam x human!fem!reader

summary: neteyam would give you the moon if he could

words: 8.8k (I’m dead omg)

warnings/notes: friends to lovers, major ANGST (cried while writing this one) bits of fluff, implied sexual themes, lovesick!neteyam, mentions of sickness and medical treatments, death, use of y/n, I am not a medical professional so I lot of this is just my interpretation I’m sorry that it won’t be accurate pls don’t hate me, mentions of mates, spider is your adoptive brother (in this house we love spider 🫶🏻), and of course my corny writing, this is the product of me listening to moon song on a loop not sure how this happened, This is gonna be rough apologies in advance

The first time Neteyam saw you was when he was eight years old. He was used to seeing Spider around, but not you. You were new.

Trembling behind Spider it looked like you were trying to disappear. Barely peeking up over his shoulder to look. Neteyam's tail swished in curiosity as he observed you.

"Guys, this is Y/N." Spider introduced you while pushing you forward. "She's a little shy." He added.

Your big eyes looked up at the Na'vi children who towered over you. "Hi." You whispered with an awkward smile and a small wave. "You're really tall." You giggled.

Neteyam stared at you in awe immediately infatuated with you. You were unlike any sky person he had ever seen.

"You're just really short." Lo'ak snapped back rolling his eyes.

Neteyam noticed your smile falter and shoved his brother. Your smile was beautiful, the prettiest thing the young boy had ever seen. At that moment Neteyam decided you should always be smiling.

Spider explained to the group that you were born here like him. You had never left the lab before. This was the first time you saw the beauty of the forest and the first time you saw a Na'vi in the flesh. You were in awe of everything around you.

Spending the rest of the day playing with the other children you couldn't help but get distracted by your surroundings. The forest was alive it's beauty glowing all around you. You had the urge to explore every last inch of it.

Neteyam kept his eyes locked on you. He was worried that you'd get separated from the rest of them. You were small and delicate, unable to properly protect yourself, so Neteyam decided to protect you.

So that's how it was whenever you played with the Sully children. Neteyam always glued by your side. He couldn't explain it. The way he felt an immediate draw towards you. As if the two of you were meant to find each other.

Neytiri was less than thrilled to have another human child around her kids. One was bad enough. After everything humans had done to their home -to her - she despised them. She even had her doubts about the loyal few who stayed.

What made her even more unsure of you was the way her eldest son never left your side. Ever since Spider introduced you Neteyam was glued to your side. Had it been anyone else Neytiri would have found it endearing. But you were human. You were a demon.

A few years later Neytiri started to notice things about you. The way the forest left you in awe no matter how many times you’d seen it. She'd catch you gasping in excitement over the littlest things. It was as if you could see.

She also noticed the strong bond you had with her children, especially with Neteyam. She knew her son well. Neytiri was well aware of how he felt towards you. She feared the day that he realized his own feelings.

You were sitting in the forest with Neteyam next to you. His mother was across from the two of you. Neytiri was shooting daggers with her eyes at you. The stare made you shift uncomfortably. Neteyam picked up on it placing a gentle hand on your knee.

Neytiri observed how you immediately relaxed. The sweet genuine smiled you gave her son and how he gave you one of his own.

Neytiri had been trying to give Neteyam a lesson on arrow making. He had insisted that you join them since he promised to spend the afternoon with you. Much to her dismay, you were here unintentionally distracting him.

You felt something barely grace your shoulder. Figuring it was Neteyam you didn't pay it much mind. Then another tap on your head. One on your arm. Then your other shoulder.

Looking up, you met Neytiri's eyes. She was staring at you like she had seen a ghost. Starting to feel panicked you looked at your arms. You gasped as your eyes filled with wonder.

Several atokirina' floated around you. They danced up and down gently resting on you. Neteyam had the biggest smile on his face. To him it was confirmation the great mother saw you the way he did.

It was undoubtedly a sign from Eywa herself. Neytiri couldn't believe her eyes. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, she was brought back to the first time she met her mate.

Unable to shake what she had witnessed she went to her mother. After explaining the strange encounter Neytiri waited while Mo’at consulted with Eywa.

“Eywa sees the child.” Mo’at finally spoke. “The Great Mother has declared that she will spend the rest of her life by Neteyam.”

Neytiri couldn’t wrap her mind around it. The concept was so foreign to her. Eywa had accepted you as one of her own. Not only that, it was also her will that you stay by Neteyam. Neytiri would never question the will of Eywa. While she didn’t fully understand it she would have to learn to be okay with it.

From that day on, Neteyam’s mother treated you with a kindness she never had before. You didn’t know what happened for her to finally warm up to you but you were forever grateful she did.

Years went by and it was time for Neteyam to begin training for his iknimaya. You were so excited for him, knowing how important this rite of passage was to the Na'vi. There was a part of you that was downcast as he wouldn't be able to spend time with you every day like he usually does.

Your heart hurt because all you wanted was to be able to experience this with him. For as long as you could remember you wanted to be Na'vi. It was your birthday wish every year though you never told anyone out of embarrassment. That and it wouldn't come true if you told.

You and your brother had begged for avatars for years. Unfortunately the materials and funding needed just wasn’t there. Norm and Max wanted nothing more than to be able to grant your wishes, but it just wasn't a possibility.

"So how long are you going to be gone this time?"

Neteyam sighed. He could hear the disappointment in your voice and it broke his heart. "A month. Maybe two."

You felt like you could burst into tears right then and there. Neteyam was your best friend, not to mention your crush for as long as you could remember. You couldn't imagine not seeing him for that long.

"I'll be back before you know it." Gently he brushed hair out of your face. As much as he loved seeing you in the forest he treasured the moments in your room without your mask. Neteyam loved to see your face without the glass restricting his view.

"Don't forget about me." You playfully pushed him.

He gasped in mock offense. "I could never." He smiled. Before he could stop himself he placed a kiss on your forehead.

Stopping dead in his tracks he pulled back. The pair of you stilled blushes adoring both of your cheeks.

Neteyam tried to burry his feelings for you but it was impossible. He had fallen helplessly in love with his best friend. Not caring that you were human he couldn't deny his feelings. He just wasn't sure how to tell you.

Before you knew it, you were throwing your arms around him as you hugged him goodbye. You went to pull away but he kept you in his embrace for a little longer.

"I'm gonna miss you." He sighed.

"You're going to have so much fun you won't even think about me."

"That's not true you're always on my mind." He blushed.

A blush engulfed your face and you bit your lip. You noticed Neteyam's tail swishing back and forth. Looking up at him he was smiling back at you. His cheeks were slightly tinted.

Standing back with the rest of his family you waved as he joined the other young warriors. "He'll be back before you know it." Spider smiled knowingly at you.

No matter how hard you tried you couldn't keep your crush from your bother. He immediately figured it out. Little did you know most everyone had figured it out. The only ones who hadn't were you and Neteyam.

Neytiri watched you with a smile on her face. As time passed she accepted the idea of you with her son. Finding amusement in the two of you pining after each other.

The time without Neteyam dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Spider did his best to keep you occupied as did the Sully siblings. But your mind never strayed far from the boy your heart beat for.

You were getting ready for bed after a long day. Neteyam was halfway through his training by now. You had been counting down the days to his return.

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Norm stood awkwardly in the doorway. “You have a visitor.” He informed you.

Furrowing your eyebrows you looked at him confused. It was way past the curfew set for the lab. “Who?”

Before he could answer you Lo’ak pushed passed him and entered your room. He look frustrated and exhausted.

“What are you doing here Lo’ak?” You asked afraid that something was wrong.

Without saying a word he removed the communicator from his neck and handed it to you. “This is for you.” Was all he said.

You looked over the tech not understanding why he was giving it to you especially now of all times. “I’ve been trying to sleep for hours. He won’t leave me alone until he speaks with you.”

Your face lit up knowing exactly who he was. Wasting no time you pressed the button. “Neteyam?” You hesitantly asked.

“Oh Eywa how I’ve missed your voice.” Neteyam’s voice rang through the speaker.

“Yeah I’m not staying to listen to this.” Lo’ak deadpanned before leaving.

Neteyam missed you terribly and begged his father to let him speak with you. Jake felt like it would be a distraction so he didn't allow it. So Neteyam came up with the brilliant idea to pester his little brother until he gave it. It worked rather quickly.

You spent the whole night talking to Neteyam. He told you all about his training not sparing a single detail. He was more interested in what you had been up to. He just wanted to hear your voice.

The day Neteyam was to return was finally here. You and Spider sprinted through the forest heading towards the village. By the time you got there he had already returned.

Searching the crowd you finally saw him. Knees weak your breath caught in your throat. Somehow he looked taller. His mussels were more defined, shoulders wider, and his face sharper. He was no longer a boy. He looked like a man.

You had always wanted Neteyam but this was different. In that moment your want for him was something you hadn't experienced before. It almost felt wrong. Almost.

Neteyam searched the crowd for you. Eyes glancing over a figure that was familiar he did a double take. It was you. You looked different.

Neteyam gulped as he took in your new features. Your hips wider and chest fuller you no longer looked like the little kid everyone was so used to. Neteyam noticed your hair was shorter, resting at just below your shoulders now.

You were beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. A gift from Eywa herself. A primal urge came over him, a desire to take you right then and there. You were to be his mate, he felt that you were destined.

"Neteyam!" You squealed running into his arms. He picked you up twirling you in the air like you weighed nothing.

"I missed you Ma'Y/N." He snuggled his face into your neck.

You bit your lip at the pet name. It was usually reserved for mated couples but Neteyam couldn't help but let it slip.

As the weeks passed on the attraction between the two of was stronger than ever. Stolen glances and intentional accidental touches filled your days.

After Neteyam successfully claimed his Ikran earning his spot among the people he would take you for rides.

"I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of you." You looked up at him.

The look you gave him made his heart flutter. A strange satisfaction overcame him knowing that you were proud of him. He wanted you to be proud of him.

That night he walked you back to the lab following you to your room. He desperately needed to speak with you. He had been working up the courage all night.

Neteyam sat next to you on your bed. He loved the moments you shared without your mask in the way. Staring into your eyes without anything in front of them.

"I have earned my place among the people." He said suddenly.

You nodded slowly not sure where he was going with this. "I know I was there." You giggled.

"I may now chose a mate."

Your heart dropped. So this was why he wanted to talk. He was here to tell you that he found someone. He probably wanted you to leave him alone now.

Anxiety flooded your mind as you felt stupid. A part of you actually thought he liked you back. Why would he? You weren’t even the same species. You had nothing to offer him.

“I see.” You gave your best fake smile. “Who’s the lucky girl then?” You had to know.

“You.” Neteyam said without hesitation.

“I’m sorry what?” You asked. There was no way you heard that right.

“You, if you’ll have me.” He looked away shy. He took your confusion as rejection. “I want you to be my mate Y/N.”

“Are you sure?” You asked dumbfounded.

Neteyam cupped your face in his palms. “I see you Y/N.”

Your heart sped up at the phrase you found so beautiful and so terrifying at the same time. He saw you. Every broken piece, every imperfection, all of your good qualities as well as the bad ones, and he still wanted you anyways.

He wanted you despite it all. Neteyam saw you.

“I am human Neteyam.” You said. You needed him to be sure of his choice. Na’vi mate for Life. Of course you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, but you needed to be sure he wouldn’t regret it.

“I know. That changes nothing.”

“I cannot make Tsaheylu.” The bond was the building block of life on Pandora. It was vital to their existence. They bonded with their mates, you would be unable to bond with him in this way.

“I know. But I see you anyways.” He confessed.

“I’ll never be tsahík.”

“None of that matters to me Y/N. Stop trying to give me reasons to not want you. It won’t work.”

Looking down in shame you gave him one last reason. “I can’t give you children Neteyam. You’d be making so many sacrifices just to have me. It’s not an equal trade.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He smiled. “You are all I want. It’s always been you Y/N. Always. Nothing else matters when you are enough for me.”

Neteyam leaned in as if he was about to kiss you. “You are what I want Y/N.”

“You are what I want too.” You breathed. “I see you Neteyam.

That was all he needed to hear. He crashed his lips onto yours passionately kissing you. Lips moving in sync until you pulled away to catch your breath.

Staring into his golden eyes you removed your shirt leaving your chest bare before him. Neteyam’s eyes widened at your sudden action. He wasn’t expecting anything to happen, he was happy with kissing.

“We don’t have to do anything Ma’Y/N.”

There was that name again. You smiled. “I want to. I want you Neteyam. That is, if you’ll have me.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

His tail twitched in excitement before he tackled you back onto the bed. The two of you spent the night a tangled mess of limbs. “We are mated before Eywa for life.” Neteyam whispered into your ear before you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

It had been two years since you mated with Neteyam. It had been the best years of your life.

His family was immediately accepting of your relationship. To your surprise so was most of the clan. There were a few that frowned upon your union but Neteyam made sure to put them in their place.

Following Neteyam’s lead you ran through the forest. He made sure to keep looking back for you so the two of you wouldn’t get separated.

“So where are we going again?” You huffed out of breath.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiled back at you.

Neteyam took you to a clearing that had the most beautiful flowers you had ever seen. You were fascinated by the nature of Pandora.

“I wish I could smell them.” You sighed. Always longing to smell the fresh air and to feel the breeze on your face.

Neteyam frowned at your words. He too hated your mask, but it kept you alive. It allowed him to show you his home. To Neteyam it was worth the inconvenience.

“Come on, let’s keep going.” He smiled. “There’s something else I wanna show you.”

Without a second thought you followed him. Starting to feel faint you slowed down. Everything was getting blurry and your head was woozy.

"Neteyam, could you slow down a little?" You panted, pushing your hand against a tree for support. "I'm a little dizzy."

Stopping dead in his tracks he rushed over to you. His mind racing with a million different thoughts. His heart screaming at him to protect you. Not looking good at all your face had gone pale. Your eyes looked exhausted. You looked ill.

"I will take you to my grandmother. You do not look good Ma'Y/N."

"I'm fine Teyam." You attempted a smile to reassure him. The last thing you wanted was to be rushed into the village. The People were used to you, but having the Tsahík tend to a sky demon may be pushing your luck. "Just take me back to the lab please."

Scooping you up he held you close to his chest bridal style. "Neteyam, I could've walked. I'm not broken." You rolled your eyes. Ignoring your protests he continued the trek back to the lab. Something was wrong and you were unwell.

Gently setting you down at the lab entrance he insisted that he come in with you. Neteyam was still slightly unsure of sky people, the lab making him nervous. But this was different. Anxiety consumed him and he couldn't leave without making sure you were okay.

Taking your mask off you then offered Neteyam a mask of his own. He hastily took it eyes never leaving you. The last thing on his mind was a mask for himself. He could breath this air for hours anyways.

Walking the familiar hallways to your room he observed your small steps. Gently panting as if the walk was tiring you out. You insisted you were fine but your body language said otherwise.

Plopping down on your bed you made grabby hands reaching out for him. "Cuddle me." You playfully commanded. Smiling he complied gently laying down next to you, arms instinctively pulling you closer.

Taking a deep breath letting your scent fill his lungs he hummed. Neteyam gently peppered a few kisses to your face before burying his head in your neck.

"Neteyam stop." You giggled. "It tickles." You could feel his smile against your neck. Running your free hand through his braids you sighed in satisfaction. Moments like this made up for all the bad ones.

You felt so safe in his arms, like he could protect you from anything. And he would. He'd burn the whole world if it meant keeping you safe.

"Teyam?" You whispered fingers still playing with his hair. He hummed in response snuggling closer to you. "I love you to the moon and back."

The expression felt odd rolling off your tongue. Checks heated in a blush you were a bit embarrassed. After all, you found it to be incredibly cheesy. But there was a part of you that found the sentiment sweet.

You'd first read it engraved on a tiny silver necklace. It had belonged to your mother. One of the scientists gave it to you once you were older. It was the only thing you had of her. Everything else was left up to your imagination.

For years they tried to allude to the fact that your mother had passed away. It seemed easier to let you believe that than tell you the truth. But even though you were a child you weren't clueless. You knew that your mother had left you here.

Terrified of everything that had happened she went back to earth unable to take you with her. That's how you found yourself being raised by the scientists on Pandora with Spider as your honorary brother.

A small part of you cling to the saying. Wishing it was true, that your mother loved you to the moon and back - to Pandora and back. That one day she'd be back for you.

You knew it would never happen. So instead you say it to Neteyam. Because you truly meant it. You would go to the moon and back for him. And you would be back. You'd always come back for him.

Neteyam's ears perked up at your words. It wasn't the first time you had told him you loved him but you had never said it like this. He didn't entirely understand it but he appreciated your words just the same.

Smiling at you like you were the most precious thing he ever laid his eyes on. "I will give you the moon my love."

Laughing you pulled him closer. "You can't give someone the moon Neteyam."

But he would for you. You were his moon, his stars, and everything in between. Whatever you asked for he would deliver. "If I could give you the moon, I would give you the moon." He confirmed.

"You're a dork." You giggled.

"So are you then. You started it." He playfully fired back. Neteyam's mind turned somber for a moment. "Are you feeling better?"

You nodded cuddling more into your mattress to get comfy. "Much better. I think I need more cuddles to be one hundred percent though."

Smiling, Neteyam snuggled into you. "I'm more than happy to assist."

As the weeks went by you continued to feel strange. It didn’t seem like a big deal to you, so you didn’t want to bring it up. After all, you were human. Getting sick was a part of every day life.

No one noticed how you were acting strange. Except Neteyam of course. He picked up on the way you always seemed tired. The way your eyes looked a bit dull as they stared off into space. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, he saw it all.

You were now having trouble keeping your meals down. Stomach always feeling like it was in knots you didn’t know what was wrong. No one had caught you throwing up yet, but they did start to notice how you were losing weight without trying.

Norm awkwardly tried to broach the subject as always trying to be the father you never had. He was afraid you were doing something self inflicted and wanted to support you in any way he could.

It took awhile but you were able to convince him it wasn't what he thought. You honestly didn't know what was wrong, you just one day started feeling sick.

Norm being the man of science that he was immediately wanted to start tests to get to the bottom of what was wrong. Somehow you managed to get him to hold off for awhile. The idea of going through a bunch of tests scared you.

You didn’t get out of it for very long. Neteyam was worried sick about you and insisted you do whatever was needed to get better. Reluctantly you agreed spending the next several days undergoing tests and blood work.

Neteyam even took you to his grandmother for her guidance. She wasn’t able to pinpoint what was wrong. Whatever you had was a human sickness, unknown to the Na’vi.

Jake took a special interest in what was wrong. He was once a human himself. He was well aware of everything that could go wrong with the human body. Plus he deeply cared for his daughter in law. Jake consulted with Norm regularly regarding his findings.

The Olo'eyktan thought it’d be best if he was one of the first to find out. That way he would be able to explain it to his family better. He was by no means a doctor but he knew his son would trust his words more than Norm’s.

He could see the way Neteyam looked like his was close to having a melt down. He had a forced calmness about him. As if he was in complete denial that something might be wrong. Because he was. If he refused to acknowledge it, it wouldn’t be real.

"Leukemia." Norm spoke like that one simple word explained everything. Jake's breath caught in his throat at the word. Neteyam stood head moving back and forth between the two of them, waiting for an explanation.

His heart hammered in his chest as they spoke words that meant nothing to him. Human words he didn't know. "How long?" His father asked quietly.

"It's progressed rather quickly. She had been exhibiting symptoms for a few months now. It's hard to say how long she's had it."

Neteyam knew they were talking about you. Dread filled him and he felt sick to his stomach. The feeling of being left in the dark was too much for him, he felt like he could scream.

"How long does she have?" Jake asked again eyes screwed onto Norm. He spoke hushed this time. Jake wasn't a fool. He was well aware of his son's feelings towards you. In fact, the whole clan knew.

How long does she have? The words echoed in Neteyam's brain. Repeating over and over again. They couldn't be talking about your life could they? You were just a little sick, you had said so yourself. This couldn't be real he refused to believe it.

"I've estimated three years." Max spoke up. "She has a thirty percent chance."

Thirty. That was low wasn't it? There was no possible way you'd have such a low chance. The science geeks were the best of the best. You'd also have access to the remedies of the Na'vi. Most importantly you'd have Neteyam. He made a vow to take care of and protect you. He indented to keep that vow.

"What are her opinions? What can we do?" Jake needed all the information he could get if he was going to have to explain this to his son.

"Chemo would be the next step. It's going to be hard, she's already so weak. It's going to take a lot out of her."

Jake glanced over at his son. Neteyam looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Hell, he was on the verge of a panic attack. His eyes were wide as he stared at his father, pleading for an answer.

Jake sighed, "Would she have a better chance back on Earth? Can we even give her proper care here?"

Earth? You couldn't go to earth. Neteyam refused to allow it. If you left he'd never see you again. He wouldn't be able to care for you while you're sick. He also wouldn't know how you were doing - he wouldn't know if you were still breathing or not.

His mouth hung open as his brain tried to register this. "She can't go to earth dad." He said just above a whisper. "She can't go!" He said again this time yelling desperately at his father.

"Calm down boy." Jake hushed him placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let them speak."

"She's not going anywhere." Norm said trying to choose his words carefully. "Her immune system is weak right now. I don't think she would survive the trip. I think it's best to treat her here with what we have available."

Tears stung Neteyam's eyes as he stared at the ground. You were so sick you wouldn't survive the trip to earth. Would you even survive here? He came to the horrific realization that you were sick and you might be dying.

"She's strong though." Jake said more so to his son. "She can fight this."

Max and Norm looked at each other with sad smiles. Neither doubted your strength, you were one of the strongest people they knew. But this was different. They had to entertain the possibility that even if you fight with your all you could lose. They also knew that they didn't have everything needed to properly treat you. But for the sake of the broken boy in front of them they left that part out.

Staying positive was hard but you gave it your best try. You felt weak but it wasn’t insufferable yet. The worst part of it was you couldn’t go out exploring like you were accustomed to.

Your friends made sure to keep you company. Your room become the unofficial official hangout spot. Lo’ak and Spider would play games with you, Kiri kept you up to date on all of the gossip in the village, Tuk insisted that the two of you color, and Neteyam? Neteyam never left your side.

He was there not long after your woke up and often times he stayed the night. Neteyam never wanted to leave your side, wanting to make sure you were cared for in any way possible. He would be there every step of the way.

When it was time for chemo you felt extremely anxious. As Norm prepared the IV Neteyam eyed the needle untrustworthily. You winced as it went into your arm. Neteyam hissed ready to throw Norm across the room for causing you pain.

Norm panicked and you quickly explained to Neteyam that it was okay. It only hurt for a few minutes. You had to deal with it. You needed the treatment to get better.

Neteyam cuddled up next to you holding your hand. He tried to do things to distract you from it. The pair of you would watch movies from back on earth. You taught him how to play uno. He could never beat you and it frustrated him to no end. He was close to throwing his cards in anger. Seeing him be such a sore looser made you laugh.

Neteyam loved your laugh. He didn’t hear it much anymore so it was his life’s mission to make you laugh as much as he could.

He believed you’d make a full recovery. This was simply a bump in the road.

"Please don't let him in." You pleaded with Spider. "I don't want him to see me like this." Tears were stinging your eyes now.

Spider looked sympathetically at you. You tried so hard to be strong for everyone but it was wearing down on you. This was effecting you worse than you thought it would. All you wanted to sulk in your room by yourself.

"He's freaking out Y/N. I'm afraid he's gonna start breaking stuff." He chuckled. Gently placing his hand on your shoulder his concerned look returned. "He cares about you. A lot. He just wants to make sure you're okay."

Nodding your head you wiped your face with your hands. You didn't want him to see that you had been crying. "Okay. Let him in."

Spider went off to find Neteyam it didn't take him too long thanks to the commotion he was causing. "You cannot keep me here!" Neteyam bellowed.

He tried to moved around the crowd of scientists who were attempting to keep him back. Neteyam growled in frustration. "Y/N is my mate you cannot keep me from her."

"Bro, calm down!" Spider yelled as Neteyam went to throw something off of a desk. He stopped as soon as he heard Spider. Neteyam's shoulders relaxed slightly at the familiar face.

"They are trying to keep me away." He snapped.

"Yeah I can see that." Spider huffed. "If you're done with your temper tantrum Y/N is ready to see you."

Raising his head high Neteyam walked past the scientists smugly. When out of earshot he bent down to Spider "They said Y/N did not want to see me." His face etched with worry.

Sighing Spider ran his hand over his face. "She's upset right now. It's not my place to say. She needs to be the one to tell you. But she's upset and embarrassed right now. She didn't want you to see her like that."

Neteyam's heart clenched at his words. The thought of you being so upset that you didn't want to see him crushed him. Walking into your room he was preparing for the worst.

You were sitting in your bed with your hands folded in your lap. Staring down you were avoiding his gaze.

He looked you up and down to see if their was any visible signs of what was wrong. If there was a problem Neteyam wanted to attack it head on. Your sickness wasn't like that though. He had to sit and watch helplessly as you suffered. It consumed him to the point he lived in constant agony.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Except your eyes were red and puffy like you had been crying. You were crying. Why were you crying? Neteyam's protective side took the forefront once again, ready to crush whatever had upset you.

Rushing to your side he cupped your cheek with his hand. "Ma'love what's wrong?" Worried etched on his face.

"You can have these back. I don't need them anymore." You sniffed. Your closed hands reached out to his. Opening your hands you gently poured the contents into his.

Neteyam stilled as his beads spilled into his hands. They were the beads he had given to you. He loved seeing you proudly wearing them in your hair, letting everyone see you were his.

"You don't want them anymore?" He softly asked. It felt like a punch to the gut. It was as if you were rejecting him.

"I won't be able to wear them anymore Neteyam." Meeting his gaze your heart broke seeing his face. He didn't understand why you were returning his gift to you.

"My hair is falling out Neteyam." You sighed.

"I do not understand." His brow furrowed trying to put the pieces together.

"The chemo- the medicine makes my hair fall out." You tried to explain.

Spider walked over and put his hand on your shoulder for support. He viewed you as his little sister. It hurt him to see you suffering like this.

Neteyam didn't understand how this medicine was helping you if it was making it so hard on you. Human medicine was more complicated than the Na'vi remedies he was used to.

You knew that he was genuinely curious and just trying to understand but you were tired if talking about it. You knew you would eventually lose your hair but you thought you could handle it.

Everything was too much. You hadn't really felt sick until now. When you noticed your hair coming out in clumps it all became real. You were sick.

Spider found you in a fit of sobs. It broke his heart to see you like that. It also sent him into a panic. He didn't know what to do to make you feel better. He was your big brother, he was supposed to know everything.

"Norm gave me this." Sighing you pulled out hair clippers. "He said it might be easier to just go ahead and shave my head." Tears stung your eyes again. "I just don't know if I can."

Without thinking Spider took the clippers from you. "I'll go first." He declared.

Eyes widening in panic you tried to stop him. "Wait Spider! You don't have to do that." Before you could get another word out he turned them on and quickly swiped along the top of his head.

You and Neteyam stared at him with wide eyes. Dumbfounded you couldn't believe your brother just did that. He did it for you. You couldn't help the small smile that formed. Knowing that your brother loved you that much made your heart swell.

"Are you guys just gonna stare at me or are you gonna help me finish this up?" Spider asked with a smirk.

Once finished Spider was almost unrecognizable. "I can't believe you did that." You mumble as he helped you with your hair.

"It's not a big deal." He shrugged. "It was weighing me down anyways. I'll be faster now."

You rolled your eyes at your brother's odd logic. Neteyam was holding onto your hand watching Spider like a hawk. The idea of taking a blade to your head terrified him even though you assured him it was safe.

Gently you squeezed his hand. “I’m okay.” You assured him. He nodded bringing your hand up to his lips, tenderly kissing your knuckles. “I love you.” His whispered lips still pressed to your fingers.

Usually you stuck to the Na’vi terms of affection. It was what Neteyam was comfortable with. But after learning what the human phrase meant he had to use it. Because it was true. He loved you with every fiber of his being.

Tugging his hand to your lips you gave his knuckles a matching kiss. “I love you too. So so much.”

“Come on guys knock it off.” Spider complained pretending to be sick. As much as your constant shows of affection annoyed him he was glad you found someone who truly loved you.

The next day Neteyam came to visit you with his hands behind his back. You eyed him suspiciously, he was never good at keeping secrets from you.

“I made this for you last night.” He gently placed a bracelet in your lap. You gasped when you realized it was made of the beads he had originally given you for your hair.

“You said you couldn’t wear them anymore and now that’s not true.”

Carefully you put the bracelet on. Heart bursting at the sweet gesture tears began to spill from your eyes. Neteyam started to panic thinking be did something wrong.

“You are not happy with it?” He asked defeated. “You are crying.”

“Yes but they’re happy tears. I love it Neteyam. I love you.” You threw your arms around his neck. Smiling he pulled you closer into his chest.

“Oel ngati kameie.” He whispered into your neck.

“I see you Ma’Teyam.”

"I'm dying Neteyam." You said without any hesitation or emotion.

Neteyam immediately sat up looking to you slightly begging that he heard you wrong. It couldn't be true. It couldn't be.

"No one's told you because they're afraid of how you'll react. I don't want to keep anything from you. Love you too much to do that." Your eyes met his through your mask. He felt his heart breaking not only from your words but your eyes. They were faded, lacking the light he loved so much.

"They didn't want to tell me either." Your hoarse voice kept on. "But it's hard to pull a fast one over on me when I'm like this." Chuckling at yourself Neteyam caught a glimpse of you. The real you. Not this pitiful shell of who you once were.

"The treatment stopped working months ago. They told me last week."

Bringing your hand to his mouth he gently kissed your knuckles. "Please do not say such things." His voice cracked. Tears were now freely flowing from his eyes.

Deep down in his heart he knew he was losing you. He just didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. Acknowledging it made it feel real and there was no way this was real. It had to be a cruel nightmare.

"I'm tired Neteyam." You spoke quietly.

Unsure of what you meant he was ready to scoop you up and tuck you into bed. Somehow you had convinced him to go star gazing tonight. It had seemed like the perfect date night idea since you were always cooped up in your room. But now he kicked himself for allowing you to leave.

"Let's get you back then," he started shuffling."

"No Neteyam." You interrupted him stopping him in his tracks. "I'm tired of this." You gestured to yourself. "I'm tired of treatments that aren't working. Tired of being stuck in my room all day. Im tired of it all." You sighed.

"This isn't living Neteyam. It's waiting to die." Meeting his eyes your heart sank. He was finally registering your words. Neteyam looked at you like you had just pierced his heart with an arrow. "I'm tired of waiting."

You had been battling this for over a year now. It had taken its toll on you physically and emotionally. You didn’t know how much longer you could go on like this.

"What are you saying Y/N?" He asked trying his best to stay calm but miserably failing. His hands were shaking and his heart quickened.

"I asked Norm and Max about how I could speed it up."

Neteyam heard his heart shatter into a million pieces. You wanted to end your life. You wanted to leave him. You couldn't possibly want to leave him could you?

Tears were freely falling from his eyes. His body started to shake fighting off sobs.

"I'm not getting any better Neteyam." You gently placed your hand on his cheek wiping away his tears with your thumb.

This wasn't what you wanted but you saw no other way. Everyday was a struggle, even breathing hurt. You wanted Neteyam to see what you already accepted. This was a waiting game. You were never going to recover.

"No." He violently shook his head holding you to his chest. "No. You'll get better. We just need to try something else. Please." He begged.

"Ma'Teyam there's nothing left to try."

"Please. You can't leave me." His body shook with sobs. "I can't lose you Ma'Y/N."

You couldn't fight back your own tears. Your mask was fogging as you started to cry. Seeing your mate like this was as painful as your sickness.

"You're not gonna lose me love. Nothing is ever lost, remember?" You tried your best to comfort him.

"There has to be something we can try." He sobbed. "What about an avatar?"

You held his head in your chest while he cried. "They can't make anymore avatars. You know that."

"I can't do this without you. There has to be something." Neteyam wailed.

The sight broke your heart. You had exhausted all of your options. Everyone but Neteyam seemed to recognize it.

"I won't do anything without your blessing Ma'Teyam." You gently caressed his head. "But please try to understand my point of view."

"You cannot ask this of me. I can't." He shook his head.

Gently rocking you soothed the boy in your arms. He had a vice like grip on you as if you'd vanish into thin air. "It'll okay Ma'Teyam." You cooed.

You had informed Norm and Max of your plan. It broke their heart but they acknowledged that it was your decision. They would respect your wishes.

Norm found himself in your room in the middle of the night watching you sleep. It pained him to see your labored breaths. You were always so fill of light and now you looked like a hollow shell.

He'd known you your whole life. It broke his heart to know that your time was running out. It seemed like just yesterday you were a bubbly toddler getting into trouble in the lab.

You told Jake and Neytiri next. For some reason you were terrified of what your in laws would think of you. While this was something common amongst humans it was very rare to the Na'vi.

Jake was once human though. It hurt his heart to see that it came to this but he understood. While his disability wasn't terminal he knew the feeling of hopelessness. The feeling of being trapped inside what once was you. Your body becoming a prison. Jake knew better than anyone.

Neytiri didn't understand why you wished this until she saw you. She couldn't contain her gasp. No longer the child she has grown to care for, you were someone she didn’t recognize.

Smiling weakly at her Neytiri’s heart broke for you. She could see that you were dying but she couldn’t understand why. It was the great mother’s will that you would stay with Neteyam. Why would she allow you to die so soon?

Then it hit her. The words of her mother. You would spend the rest of your life beside Neteyam. Your life would end before his. Seeing you like this made her realize why you wanted this. You weren’t yourself, you were tapped inside a body that was failing you.

Spider was unusually quiet when you told him. “Spider please say something.” You pleaded.

He knew it was coming. He’d be a fool not to. But he was like everyone else who loved you, he didn’t want to believe it was happening. All of his earliest memories included you. You may have only been siblings because of circumstance but he loved you like you were blood.

You were undoubtedly his sister. Always there for him for as long as he could remember. Someone who always had his back. You understood the feeling of being abandoned here and the longing of wanting more. You were his person. And now you weren’t going to be here anymore.

Spider stood up and hugged you. He was slightly crying into your shoulder. You had never seen your big brother cry. He was your rock always strong and dependable.

“I’m sorry Spider.” You cried with him.

“Hey,” he pulled back to look at you. “Don’t ever be sorry. None of this is your fault.”

Nodding through your tears you took in the sight of him. His hair was growing back so fast leaving him with a nice short cut.

“You know I love you right?” He asked unsure for a moment. He had to make sure you knew. Spider wouldn’t be able to live with himself If you didn’t.

“Of course. I love you too bro.”

The two of you spent the rest of the day talking about everything and nothing all at once. It would be one of the last times you got to.

When it came to telling Neteyam he already knew. Your confirmation was like stones in his heart. But he knew. Deep down he always knew. You were never getting better.

Being cooped up in your room wasn't much of a life. You were in pain and it pained him to witness it. Neteyam never wished to part from you but this wasn't his choice to make.

He knew that had there been any other way you wouldn't had made the choice either.

You wanted one last day. One last good day.

Looking at your room one last time you shut the door. You had breakfast with Norm and Spider just like you always did growing up. Max even joined you.

No one talked about what was to come. You forbid any talk of the future only wanted to live in the here and now.

Spider helped you put on your mask and the two of you slowly made your way to the village. He helped you into the Sully home. You were terrified of everyone being somber, but to your delight everyone acted as normal.

You hadn’t laughed this much in months watching Spider reenact a story of one of the many times Lo’ak almost got himself killed.

Laughter, hugs, and smiles was how you spent your time with the Sully’s. It was perfect just like it always was. Neteyam kept you sat on his lap not wanting to lose contact for a second.

Taking a deep breath he inhaled your scent. It had changed when you got sick. It didn’t smell like you. It made him frown.

Insisting on going on an Ikran ride you drug Neteyam out of his family’s tent. Neytiri stopped you before you got too far. Embracing you one last time. “Thank you for watching over him my child.” Before you could say a word she kissed your forehead and left you with watery eyes.

Neteyam didn’t want to focus on sadness right now. You were still here that’s all that mattered. Taking your hand once again you were greeted with his Ikran.

“You sure you feel up to this?” He checked in.

“Hell yeah.” You smirked at him.

Flying through air was a feeling you’d never get used to. Up there you were truly free. Sticking your arms out to intensify the feeling Neteyam cursed at your sudden movement. His grip tightening around you.

“Let me know before you do something like that.” He scolded.

“You worry too much!” You yelled over the wind. “You’ve taken me on a million rides and haven’t dropped me yet.”

Neteyam smiled at you. Today you were glowing with a glimpse of yourself. Not the person who had been while sick. The real you. It made his heart clench. It pained him but he knew you were right. This was the right choice.

He would rather see you like this than just slowly waste away to nothing. I wanna go out with a bang. You had told him.

Eclipse crept up on the couple as you laid on the ground tangled up in each other. "I love you so much." You told him tears threatening to spill. He kissed your knuckles. "I love you to the moon and back." He whispered.

Smiling fondly at the memory from what felt like an entirety ago. "I can't believe you remember that." You laughed.

He chuckled. Neteyam had spent years committing every part of you to memory. He found your surprise amusing. Of course he’d remember. He remembered it all.

You stayed in his embrace until you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer. "I'm ready Neteyam." You breathed.

He nodded blinking back tears. "I see you Ma'Y/N." He gently caressed your face the best he could.

"I see you Ma'Teyam." You grabbed his hand. "Don't worry I'll see you again. Take your time my love."

"Anything for you my moon." He smiled.

As gently as he could he removed your mask. Taking a deep breath in you smiled as you inhaled the scents of the forest. It smelt even better than you imagined.

Neteyam laid next to you holding your hand looking up to the sky. You admired the stars before glancing over at Neteyam. He met your eyes and smiled. Your breathes were started to become labored. "It's okay love. You can rest now." He said fighting back a sob.

Your vision was turning black around the edges. Neteyam was talking to you but you couldn’t register what he was saying. Slowly your eyes closed. Your chest stopped. Just like that you were gone.

This was exactly how you asked. Neteyam fulfilled every last one of your wishes even if it killed him inside. Your whole life you wanted nothing more than to experience Pandora without any restrictions. And in that brief moment you did.

Neteyam held onto your lifeless body as he sobbed. He knew it was happening but nothing would prepare him for the feeling of you actually being gone.

His love. His mate. His best friend. His moon and stars. Gone forever. You were gone and there was nothing he could do to bring you back.

His body shook as he wailed. Neteyam realized that because you were human you were never connected to the spirit tree. He would never be able to see you again. He would never see you again.

Neteyam spent the whole night grieving you. He knew it was just the beginning of many sleepless nights crying for you.

In the morning he carried you back to home tree. Neteyam insisted that you have a traditional Na’vi burial. It didn’t take much convincing as everyone adored you.

His family helped prepare your body. He begged for help not thinking he was strong enough to do it on his own. Once everything was finished they gave him a moment alone. Spider looked up at him with red puffy eyes giving him a pat on the back.

Neteyam spent his last moment with you whispering sweet nothings that you would never hear. Confessions of love that wouldn’t reach your ears.

The last time Neteyam saw you, you were lowered into the ground. He tried to stay collected not wanting his people to see him weak. But this was unbearable.

After the funeral his grandmother approached him. Pulling him in for a rare hug she caressed his head Lovingly. “She is with Eywa now.” She told him.

He looked up at her in shock. You were a human. Neteyam didn’t think it was possible for a sky person to be with Eywa.

“She is?” He asked breathless.

Mo’at simply nodded before leaving him. Neteyam took a moment to process this revelation. A gentle breeze blew through his hair. Taking a deep breath he tried to ground himself.

A delicate tap on his shoulder caused him to open his eyes. A single atokirina' had landed on him. It gently swayed around him. He cupped the spirit his hands smiling, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You were still here. There is no death. Only change.

7K notes · View notes

naffeclipse · 14 days ago

Text

Charm Brought It Back Pt. 5

Reader x Witches!Sun, Moon, & Eclipse

Commission Info

Ah, here we are! The last chapter in the Hocus Pocus AU by @jackofallrabbits and me! Once more, I'm honored and thrilled to have @deliasmilkshake's cover art for the finale! I can't say how grateful I am for everyone's support and lovely comments on this little series! There's a wedding to attend, so let's get to it <3

Content Warning: Suggestive themes, heavy kissing, and heavy touching.

———

The coolness of the woody air, cut away from the hot and claustrophobic space of the crowded gymnasium overflowing with celebration, brushes over your skin. Half-bare in your ruined sweater, you shiver. Eclipse eases you with a soft sound. His fingertips slip under your sweater and trace over your back to soothe the goosebumps prickling your flesh. Leaning deeper into him, you clutch him tightly in your arms.

You’ve never held someone so close before.

If you don’t open your eyes now, you’ll never believe this is real. The witches. The curses. The ceremony. All of it will be a dream on one cold October night while you lie in bed alone.

So you do. Little by little, you lift your cheek from his chest and tilt your head back, and behold the unnatural man, come back from the dead, who awaits your vows. His eyes glimmer gently in rich golden hues. The sharp cuts of his sun rays remind you of the encroaching sunrise, and you realize the sky is losing its stars as the black dillutes into a dawn of dark gray.

“We will have the ceremony here.” Eclipse inclines his head around you. “It may be simple, but it is only for the time being. When there is no urgency, we will celebrate properly with food and wine and the most beautiful altar. It will be to your heart’s desire, little comet.”

You look around to find what he describes as simple, and balk softly. You are not in the high school gym set in town but a clearing filled with half-dead vines twisting around the bare ground set amid shadowy trees with whispering boughs and the last of autumn’s leaves. The starlight barely reaches you. Dozens of round, orange pumpkins litter the ground around your feet. In the center of the pumpkin patch is a beautiful black wood tree with thick, bark-cracked limbs reaching high with a canopy of bright red and yellow leaves to serve as your altar.

Behind you, smoke not unlike from the party Eclipse just whisked you away from swirls and recedes further back into the cold night, unveiling Sun and Moon. They stand tall and expectant, their hands filled with silvery threads like spider gossamer and the veil of a bride. Sun’s yellow sun rays catch your eyes like a peacock fanning its tail. Moon’s hood lays quietly over his head and casts a calm shadow over the scarlet of his eyes. The weight of their gazes fall over you.

They are here for you too. The twitch in your limbs answers to the anticipation overflowing from your core.

You breathe in deeply. There are two people missing. Turning back to Eclipse, your lips poised to ask about your friends and how the brothers might intend to shuck their curses from them, when the smoke behind Sun and Moon continues to dissolve before it reveals just the ones heavy on your mind.

Michael and Vanessa.

Confusion crosses Michael’s undead face. Purple flesh upon his brow shoots up in alarm before his gaze finds you in the arms of the eldest witch. At his feet, the white rabbit raises her ears high. Vanessa’s green eyes pierce you with alarm and fright most unspeakable.

Your heart aches at the sight of them so drenched in dark magic. Reaching out a hand in a placating motion, you start to call out to them.

“Don’t!” Michael shouts overrules yours, as fierce and protective as he has been all through the night. He charges forward. “Get away from—”

Magic spills from Sun’s and Moon’s lips in a twining harmony. Their gazes are steel while their voices lift and multiply, filling the air with gales of hot and cold air before the old leaves on the pumpkin vines shudder. Creaking and crawling across the dirt, the dark green tendrils come to life and snatch Michael’s ankles, stopping him short as he struggles to remain balanced.

Vanessa bounds towards you. Her small body leaps over pumpkins and scurries around snares of pumpkin tendrils. She dodges a snaring vine before a second, hidden one snatches her, twisting her small little form into its clutches and holding her a few inches above the ground. Her feet kick out. Her entire body struggles as she tries violently to free herself but to no avail.

“Don’t hurt them.” You clutch Eclipse’s cloak until your knuckles turn white. Pleading with your entire being, you find his gaze. “Please. They’re my friends.”

A dryness infiltrates your mouth. Will they be better than what the villagers and witch hunters feared them to be? Can you ask them to be good for you? Your core burns with yearning, the hope of a brighter day filled with peace and joy, not more darkness. Not more pain and fear.

You don’t want to lose them.

Eclipse gently covers your fists and soothes them out until your palms relax against his chest.

“They won’t be harmed,” Eclipse nods towards his brothers. His sonorous voice lowers. “Sun and Moon understand your conditions. We have brought your friends here to give you our gifts, and to ensure there are no more interruptions.”

You nod shakily. A feeble tremble lingers throughout you, raking through your fingers and along your jawline. Your witch suitors have proven again and again their capabilities for wickedness and they continue to chase it through the midnight hours, but not here. They stand still, at your service. How they terrify you. How they enchant you.

Every single night you dreamt of someone to love, someone who would keep you warm and chase away the loneliness.

Have you found them or are you a love-sick fool still reaching for something that is not yours?

“Run, get away from here!” Michael struggles against the vines rooting him in place. Leaves twine tighter around his corpse-like body, forcing him to his knees and leaving him bound from his ankles all the way to his shoulders, wrapped up like a cruel gift.

One glower from Sun sends one last pumpkin vine around Michael’s flesh-rotten mouth and gags him.

Vanessa twists and writhes. Her small rabbit body struggles in the grasp of the vine snare and she sinks her teeth into it, attempting to chew through the restraint while her wide, desperate eyes flash to you.

“It’s okay,” you say softly. “Stop struggling. It’s going to be okay. Please, trust me.”

Michael stops fighting. A fear and anger so raw fills his gaze as Sun and Moon step after you. His fists clench as his jawbone wiggles, but his muffle words die behind the vine covering his teeth.

A strong sound jumps from Vanessa, caught between an animalistic cry and a human sob. She looks at you. Her wide eyes shine with dread.

Eclipse takes you by the shoulders, his eyes burning low as he turns you away from the fear of your friends. You keep your eyes on both of them.

“It’s okay,” you whisper again.

“Come, come, little comet.” Eclipse recaptures your attention with a finger hooking under your chin. “The hour is nigh. Sunrise is too near for us to wait any longer.”

“I know.” Your pulse swells in your ears, beating within you like a drum to a dance that’s too fast-paced for your feet to keep up with.

Your eyes stray from his somber expression to the black tree. Between the red and yellow leaves are dozens of spiderwebs, glimmering softly like silk streamers just for the ceremony. Gently, Eclipse releases you to stand back as Sun and Moon slip around you from both sides.

“My poppet,” Sun’s voice is sensual and warm. “Allow me to dress you in spider gossamer for this fine occasion.”

You slowly dip your head, all too confused but too uncertain to stop him as he draws out threads of silvery silk. He gently lays them upon your shoulders. His pale eyes swim with passion. A gentle murmur of magic flows from his lips, and you become enveloped in a light and cool cascade of fabric softer than rain and lighter than feathers. You look down at yourself.

Catching the fading shimmer of magic, you are now draped in an elegant but simple silver gown. A high neck collars you with big, flowing sleeves which cinch at your wrists with thick embroidery. The skirt falls in an A-shape and flows softly in the gentle wind of the night around your feet, almost brushing the dirt.

Your wedding attire. You touch the skirt with a delicate hand as if it may fall apart like a cobweb brushed away, but instead, you watch in silent marvel at the rippling, silk-like glimmer of the cloth.

Strangely, Sun possesses your clothes in his arms now. Your mind spins with questions but you are learning all too well that the answer is magic. With a smirk, he tosses aside the holey sweater and your dirt-stained jeans. The clothes land on the shell of a large, orange pumpkin.

“Beautiful,” Sun lowers his head in pleasure, his hand at his chest and his other arm held out in a formal bow to you. “Never was there a more lovely bride for three brothers.”

You blush fiercely.

“It is beautiful,” you admit, clutching a fistful of the skirt. You lift it and wave it back and forth once to watch it glimmer again.

“I’m not speaking of the dress, sunshine.” Sun straightens with a grin so devious, you must wonder again if you’re giving up your soul in such a ceremony.

A cool touch falls upon your hand. Claws curl carefully over your wrist. Dropping the skirt, you twist upon your feet to face Moon.

“A veil for you.” He holds it in his other hand. The delicate and sheer gossamer flows like silver water. “Lower your head. I will crown you in it.”

You bow slightly. Moon sweeps your hair back with his cool, careful fingertips and pins the veil upon your skull like a tiara. The soft, celestial fabric falls down around you. Blinking, you stare in awe at yourself, shrouded in majestic silver.

Moon gazes at you softly. His eyes fall from your hair and he reclaims your palm for a moment to behold you entirely.

“Exquisite.” He bows his head over your hand. “I dreamt of you since Eclipse first told us what he found in his bone scrying. I have waited for you all this time, my snowflower.”

A tremble falls over your bottom lip—not of fear, though there is still an anxious sparking within your nerves. You are washed away in his sincerity. The true intentions of a lover.

You have no words, and instead, gently squeeze his hand.

“May I add one last touch,” Eclipse says. He steps forward.

You lift your head to him as his gaze glows gently in the darkness like twin stars which circle you as his brothers step back. Eclipse sets his hand on your shoulder. Your breath slows as his touch traces your collarbone and falls down your side. You almost sway under his hand holding your hip before he sinks onto one knee to trail his palm along your thigh and all the way to your calf, touching your gown all the way down.

He speaks a gentle spell. You dare not move an inch as a gentle pulse, milky and starlight-like, falls over the cloth. You burn in the darkness like a candle. The gown stands out against the darkness like a comet streaking through the night sky.

“Oh,” is all you can say as you look down at yourself. There are no words which can contain the magnitude of what you feel towards the beauty and thought of their wedding attire for you. Though Sun, Moon, and Eclipse spark and snap like flames with their wide eyes and tall statures, you twinkle bright.

Emotion cakes your throat. Thickly, you swallow it back.

“A little starlight.” Eclipse smiles, his eyes burning sweetly. “For you are our equal, our partner, our bride.”

You don’t feel powerful. You don’t feel important enough to be involved in magic and ceremonies and love, yet here you stand, swathed in their adoration and gifts. You take hold of your skirt once more.

“Let us begin the ceremony,” Eclipse says softly. He takes your elbow and arm in arm, he walks you through a footpath worn through the pumpkin patch to the black tree, gnarled but beautiful. A most befitting altar.

Taking your other arm is Sun, sliding close to you with a simmering smile so close to you, you wonder if the slight heat brushing against your cheek is from his presence or the blood rush in your face. Behind you, like a pale shadow, Moon tenderly takes your skirt and follows close behind, keeping the beautiful fabric from gathering dust and pumpkin fronds.

And so you go to your wedding altar.

In times before, marriage served to form alliances between families. Parents arranged such contracts for children to benefit both parties. Most couples didn’t and couldn’t marry for love, rather they were bound for purely economic liaisons.

How beautiful is it that you could arrange yourself into a marriage most lovely?

Your grooms stop at the black tree. Eclipse slips away from your hand, and you look to him in confusion, fearing where he might wander away to. The elder witch grins as he simply looks at his brother. Sun’s hand lingers on your arm, trailing down to your wrist before he steps back, still beaming, still eager, but patient.

You turn slowly under the dusting of moonlight to face Moon. A swell rises in your heart, crashing through you until you’re sticky with emotion. His expression is soft and sweet like milk and honey. He gathers your hands between his own. Looking down, Moon draws the pads of his thumbs softly over your knuckles as if wishing to memorize the bone structure of your much smaller hands.

There is no time at all, but you keep the quiet with him, studying his mild countenance. His breaths are deep and even. A gentle scent of something late and herbal laces him, and you’re taken back to the mausoleum where he tasted you.

His eyes lift. The scarlet gleam holds you tender.

“Do you take me to be your husband?” His voice is gentle in its rasp. His eyes never leave you, drinking you in like wine. “My love is yours, for time and all eternity. I will honor you dearly, little mouse.”

A soft sound catches in your throat, somewhere between a chuckle and a weeping sound. You thought joy would be without tears, but you stand, clutching his claws tightly in your fists to steady yourself.

“I do.” The moonlight brightens as the words leave your lips. You watch in silent awe as the silver glow of the night dances over you both, and you taste midnight upon your tongue as Moon smiles.

He carefully takes your veil and lifts it over your head, allowing the silver threads to fall down your back. He leans in gently. In the way the tide is tugged by the lunar celestial body, you meet him in the small space between your bodies. The witch’s kiss presses to your mouth in a gentle yearning, pushing and pulling so long as you follow in time. You fall into him. Deepening the kiss, Moon cradles your lips against the white curve of his fangs. You sigh contently as you lose your breath in his presence, starstruck.

He releases you, though only your mouth. His hands clasp yours tightly and he softly caresses the back of your hands. Tied along his wrists are deep blue ribbons. Bells jangle softly underneath.

“I will keep you unto me forevermore.” Moon traces your digits with his claw. The soft glow of his gaze fills you with his sincerity.

You sink into his words like a pool of silver. You nod deeply.

“I will cherish you,” you promise in a trembling, choked voice. The power of the engagement drapes over you, pressing upon you the great importance of this entanglement.

“Breathe, little mouse.” He smiles. “I will keep you safe.”

You laugh quietly, too overwhelmed for words but your happiness seeps through all the same.

He kisses you once more before he lifts his head high. Following his gaze, you find Vanessa has stopped fighting. Her little rabbit nose twitches fast, afraid.

Moon offers a spell, deep and cool but releasing. His voice overlaps. A scent of sharp, pungent herbs swirls on the night breeze before he nods his head once more. Your old clothes fly off of the pumpkin they were resting on, and fall onto Vanessa still tangled in the pumpkin vines.

A moment later, in a shrouded flash of light, vines snap and clothes stretch, and there is a woman where there was once a rabbit.

Vanessa, thankfully, wears your sweater and jeans. Her green eyes fit much better in her human face as she kneels upon the ground and lifts her hands. Long blonde hair falls down around her shoulders. Slowly, she turns over her palm and clenches her fingers. No longer trapped, she gazes up at you.

Shock shines in her eyes, but her lips form soft awe.

“Vanessa,” you smile breathlessly. Whirling back, you kiss Moon once to his slight shock. “Thank you.”

“I will answer to your every desire,” he murmurs, then releases you.

Moon slips back from you. Before you can think of reaching for him, Sun takes you into his arms. You gasp softly at the warmth of his embrace surrounding you like you were basking near an open fire.

“Sunshine, I was beginning to fear you’ve forgotten about me.” He takes you carefully, slipping your feet onto his as he begins to spin you slowly, like a star tailspinning through the atmosphere. “You could never, could you? Not when I still vye for your kiss—and now, your vows returned.”

You hold onto his shoulders. Carefully underneath the gnarled limbs of the black tree, Sun waltzes you to an unsung song. He hums slowly with a gentle rumble in his chest. His eyes upon you are hungry in the way a candle flame clings to a wick, desperate to devour but unable to spread like a wildfire.

“No, I couldn’t forget you, Sun,” you whisper. He has left you dizzy and stunned, racing with you upon his broom and then pinning you underneath him upon a bed. There is too much you marvel about him to forget.

He twirls you gently, the moonlight blurring around you between earth and sky before he recaptures you. The threat of dawn seems so close and yet so far away from this wild pumpkin patch.

“That is all I can ask, though you must know, I want more of you.” His grin is wide but honest. How could you expect anything less from the one who has coveted you so zealously?

His hand rests on the small of your back. Pulling you flush against him, he holds you for one breathless moment, caught like two figurines in the apex of a lovers’ dance.

“Do you take me to be your husband?” His voice is steady, without flirtations or sultry suggestions. An honest question from a witch. “You have simply enchanted me, dove. I am at your mercy. I am at your service. And if you will, your bedside, your mornings, and your sunsets.”

Your eyelids flutter. A gentle push of tears make their way past your eyes, and you hold his wide, pale gaze. He searches your face with held breath. He clutches your hand and presses it to his chest, bared open to you. The bells tied to the dark red ribbons on his wrists jingle softly.

“I do.” You speak with the gentleness of certainty. The leaves overhead ruffle with a breeze that is far more fitting for summer than an incoming winter. Pressed so close, you fear he must know how your heart trembles in the wonder of knowing that he loves you, and you love him.

His expression erupts in sheer, unadulterated joy. He spins you once more, dancing as if he were walking on air before he dips you low. You intake a deep breath as he holds you above the pumpkin patch. His grin fills your entire vision as his fingers press softly into your dress. He wastes not a moment to crush your mouth in a kiss.

His hunger and eagerness leaves you breathless as he takes and takes before he gives just as much in return. You are captured within his affection. He is smooth and practiced, and you almost feel self conscious, but gently, he leads you. He guides your lips and teases you with his teeth. Even his tongue brushes the inside of your mouth before he softens it to a trickle after the flood of his expression. You taste a sweetness that slips down your throat like honey.

Gently, he brings you back up on your feet, though he does not release you. He kisses you again, greedily taking more. You are putty in his hands, molded by his mouth as if you were a honeycomb caught between teeth.

“Sunny,” Eclipse murmurs once in gentle warning.

Sun draws back reluctantly as if being torn from water after days in the desert. You gasp softly, your shoulders rising and falling after the rush of his love.

“I have devoted myself to you, my poppet,” he whispers into your ear as you rest against his chest. “My love is yours and yours alone.”

“Oh, Sun,” you clutch his shoulders tighter. “I will adore you for the rest of my days.”

“I know, sunshine.” He grins but softly kisses your cheek once in a strangely rare but precious, chaste gesture. “But I must share you or else I will keep you all night.”

He straightens, his arms still encircling you. Pale eyes sweep back and you eagerly look at Michael. He’s stopped fighting as well, no longer thrashing but watching with a strange, conflicted crinkle of his brow. Vanessa kneels close by, unmoving, still staring at her legs and arms and touching her hair.

Your entire body aches for Michael. The curse stains his flesh and twists him into a silver-screen monster.

Sun breathes a spell. His voice fills the air in unearthly chants that sweep over the ground and whirl the leaves on the pumpkin vines. They slowly crawl back, releasing Michael just as the same bright flash of energy and power takes hold of your dear friend.

The purple corpse recedes back and unveils the man underneath. Michael’s hair returns to its warmer shade of brown. His eyes blink and his corenas return white while his irises take hold with light and life. Rotten flesh returns to a rich tan color. His torn clothes refill with his healthy size and strength.

He clenches and unclenches his fists. Slowly, he stumbles forward. Vanessa helps catch him before he folds entirely after being freed from the witches’ curse.

You startle—is his leg still broken? Vanessa, however, stabilizes Michael, coaxing him to sit beside her. He folds his legs with natural ease—healed and whole.

“Michael, you’re alright,” you breathe, clutching Sun together.

He gives you a nod though in a slight daze. He opens his mouth but then decides against whatever he was going to say.

“Thank you.” You turn to Sun. “Thank you for sparing him.”

“Anything for our bride,” he simpers. With a great sigh, however, he lets go of you, his fingertips trailing over your sides before falling back beside Moon.

Under the black tree, Eclipse stands, patient but enduring.

You face him. He lifts his head but remains humble and composed before gently approaching. The light of a new day is beginning to change from deep gray to a burning orange leaking rosy pink at the edges. The sunrise is as terrifying as it is promising.

Eclipse opens his arms to you. Without hesitation, you enter his embrace as his hand finds your cheek. Tied tight around his wrist is a black ribbon with golden bells. His claws rest delicately on your hip over the silky soft fabric of your gown. Lightly, his thumb caresses your cheek. The gold of his gaze falls over you, gentle as the night.

“Little comet,” he says, steady despite the impending light threatening to take away all. Yet, he takes his time, tasting his words before giving them to you. “Do you take me to be your husband? I have waited—”

In a heart rush, you utter, “I do.”

Eclipse stares, eyes wide. His red sun rays catch the first glance of daylight, brightening his vision as if a spotlight fell upon him. He looks towards the horizon as you do. You squint slightly against the brightness.

Lifting his hand from your face, he watches the black ribbon and bells dissolve into dark smoke, then nothing. Sun and Moon turn their wrists as the respectful dark red and deep blue ribbons fall away from them as if burned and leave not a wisp behind.

You take Eclipse’s hand and draw it closer to you, gently kissing his knuckles before smiling.

“You’re free. You’re all free.” You flush deeply as you look to Sun and Moon and their gazes of content awe. “My husbands.”

A soft, strange sound leaves Eclipse. A breath caught between wonder and something deeper, something roiling with adoration. His gaze falls back to you, and again, he touches your cheek.

“I did not finish my vows to you.” He cradles your face close in his palms, leaning closer as your eyes lock. “I swear to you happiness, protection, and my unending love. From this day on, you will always be warm. You will always have my hand to hold. You will never fear the darkness for I will be with you.”

He pauses, his grin spreading wide. He looks at you as if you were a dream. A living, breathing vision.

“We are eternally bound to you, our spouse.” Eclipse leans in close. “Say my name, once more.”

Your eyelids slip close for one precious moment, warmed by the brilliant light, and the touch of Eclipse’s hands cradling you as if you were delicate.

“Eclipse,” you whisper.

His grin is beautiful and lovely. You start as you feel a second pair of arms surround you. Sweeping you off your feet, Eclipse lifts you into his embrace. This close, he smells of gentle spice and musk.

He strokes your cheek once before closing the distance between your lips. You feel his hunger in the echo of your own—the want to devour but gently, he tastes you. A soft whine catches in the back of your throat. Melting under his warmth, he invades you gently and his tongue brushes against your own. His kiss takes you under, and you drop breathlessly into his grasp.

He pulls and takes in soft, sweet motions. Rhythmic and powerful, he tastes you until you fear you might fall once more. But he will catch you. This much you are certain.

He pulls back gently, kissing you one last time as if in need of the strength it gives him, before his honeyed gaze settles on you.

“Your freckles are beautiful, like the stars upon the night sky,” he says. He kisses the right side of your face, then glides to the left and lingers there a moment. “You are truly staying with us, my little comet.”

You blush, and cling to him. Your hands, however, are gently tugged. You look away from Eclipse to find Moon curling his claws under your digits and lifting your hand sweetly to his mouth. Eclipse shifts you gently in his arms to rest you against his back while keeping you cradled like a bride on her wedding night—you suppose you are such a bride, Sun’s hand traces from your shoulder down your arm until he captures your hand. There, he kisses your knuckles slowly. You close your eyes, bubbling in the blissful sunlight as your husbands adore you.

A kiss like the brush of a moth wing touches your head. Eclipse hums gently against you. You make a soft, sweet sound at their tender affection.

“My husbands,” you say, then laugh a little, beaming at their gentle looks. “I’m going to have to get used to saying that.”

“You will,” Sun purrs, “And there’s so much time for us to grow used to our lovely spouse.”

“So much time,” Moon rasps gently, “You must be exhausted.” He kisses your fingertips until you shiver and blush.

“Perhaps we should take our bride home,” Eclipse suggests gently. “You can sleep in our bed and rest, and when you wake, we’ll celebrate more.”

You stir at the thought. You won’t drive back to your tiny apartment. No, instead you will stay here with your husbands, and the bed you will sleep in will be warm and filled with their bodies.

You won’t wake up alone.

“I’d like that.” You squeeze Sun’s and Moon’s hands and turn your head back to gaze at Eclipse with a fond smile.

A quiet voice says your name. You turn your head, stunned to find Michael and Vanessa stepping towards you. Vanessa supports Michael’s arm around her shoulders as his strength seems to wane. Their eyes are mirrors of witch hunters from long ago as they behold the brothers holding their virgin bride.

Claws tighten around you. Moon flashes his sharp teeth as Sun lifts his chin high, looking down at the pair with disdain. The arms holding you off the ground squeeze in the slightest until you wriggle. Eclipse nearly keeps you away, but gingerly, he sets you back on your feet.

Michael holds your gaze, his brow crinkled in concern but restored to his natural health.

“Are you really staying with them?” he asks quietly, his gaze darting sharply to the witches.

You smile at the slight shifting around you. The drape of Moon’s cloak almost falls over your shoulder as he takes your hand close and caresses your arm. A murmur of wishing to return them both to rabbits falls from Sun’s lips, but he merely interlocks his digits between your own. Behind you, Eclipse draws a tender hand down your back, feeling the ridges of your spine through the delicate fabric of your gown.

“I love them.” You look at your husbands. Their faces brighten, their touches softening upon you. “I’m staying.”

“What do we do now?” Vanessa asks. Her face looks lost, and you imagined after a few centuries of only guarding the starry candle, she must be.

You muse for a moment, and survey your husbands with a careful air. “Is your home now my home?”

“Of course,” Eclipse answers without hesitation. “Everything that is ours is yours.”

“Then I may invite my friends inside?”

Sun and Moon exchange a glance, Sun more annoyed than Moon’s mild surprise, but they both incline their heads.

“If that is your wish,” Moon gives gently.

“It is.” You squeeze their palms. “We can start a proper home, and we can learn how to forgive.”

“Forgive?” Vanessa balks.

“Yes.” You look at her as the bright light of day touches her face. Her eyes are truly green and sharp like cut emeralds. “Let’s get out of this pumpkin patch and go home and rest. Then we can make peace.”

Michael looks down at Vanessa.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you, unlike my ancestor.” His brow is set firm. To your awe, Michael does not tremble with rage or the need to fight again. Perhaps the witches are beginning to prove themselves, and Michael will give them a chance. Just one chance.

“Very well then, my poppet.” Sun turns to you and kisses you in a sudden burst of heat and passion before he releases you. Stunned, you almost sway but Eclipse wraps an arm around your waist. Sun gestures with his free arm in an open invitation. “Enter our humble abode. You are our spouse’s guests, which means you are ours.”

Vanessa glares at him. Her foot falls down on a withered vine and it cracks.

“Charming as ever, Vanessa.” Sun flashes his teeth in a grin.

“Sun,” you chastise.

He rubs your wrist, half apologetic.

“I will make soup.” Moon muses. “My cauldron pot is where I left it, I hope.”

The heaviness in the air reminds you that the night has been long, and you are dreadfully exhausted. Vanessa and Michael barely hold themselves upright, but they lean on each other.

“Excellent.” Eclipse waves his hand. Smoke seeps up from the ground, swirling around your feet before you close your eyes, and lean into the pillars of your husbands for support.

The air changes. A slight breeze, warm for October, encircles you. You inhale a gentle scent of rich earth and dust. When you open your eyes again, the brothers’ home is standing before you, same as it ever was, but entirely changed.

Perhaps it’s only you who has changed, now hanging on to the witches.

Michael and Vanessa are just behind you and the witches, standing on the gravel outside of the home, disgruntled about the change of scenery or perhaps the use of magic, but you hope they’ll see the possibility of goodness within the brothers as you have.

Eclipse’s hand slips under your chin to lift your head back. His expression warms with the bright new day. Sun kisses your fingertips until you shiver in delight. Moon turns your palm over to reach the delicate lines of veins along your wrist, and presses his lips to your pulse.

“We are home,” Eclipse says. He kisses the top of your head.

You are home with your husbands.

#naff's writing commissions #hehehe Happy Halloween!!!#make sure you let jack know how much you like this au <3333 #and tell delia how incredible their art is!!!#hocus pocus au my beloved #witch!eclipse #witch!sun #witch!moon #charm brought it back #naff writing

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dont-look-its-embarrassing · 1 month ago

Text

To be Understood

Second part to "To be Seen"

Hey! I honestly didn't think people would like the last drabble as much as they did and I didn't have a pt.2 planned, but I decided to try and see where it goes.

Also, I am new to actually posting something and having feedback or having people want to be tagged, so I didn't do something right in the tagging process pls let me know :)

I am going to make this a little series bc I cannot fit the entirety of the story in one and actually make it comprehensive and not 10,000+ words in one one-shot. :)))

Plus, I think I could make this just the right amount of heart wrenching and fluffy >:)

Summary: Following up on his promise to keep a more watchful position in your newly transitioned life, Azriel attempts to get to know you and spend time in your presence. After the panic attack in the town of Velaris, more seeing eyes has been turned towards you from your friends. They are trying to make sure you are accounted for more than before, but time and pressure has some things slipping. Multiple awkward encounters and attempts to see eye to eye to the spymaster (in particular) leads to an intimate confession between the two of you.

Warnings: Slight mentions of PTSD recovery, anxiety, self-doubt, slight!jealous Azriel, Cassian is testing the waters with his brother again

Words: 2,668

previous part

The sun was the first thing your eyes adjusted to upon waking up. The slight breeze from the open window brought in the fresh smell of the dew and had your body relaxing further into the comfy sheets as the temperature in the room reflected that of outside. The eccentricity of your room bringing comfort and serenity and the little nicknacks you have collected since being here allowed a cozy feeling to emulate throughout it.

Feyre even mentioned how jealous she was of how comfortable and warm your room is, and mentioned she couldn’t get hers to be similar even when she tried.

The memory had you smiling.

Stretching underneath the comfortable weighted comforter, you pull back the edge, allowing your body to be exposed to the colder air. Grabbing the longer silk robe that hung beside you, you made your way out of your comfort zone to the hallway towards the kitchen. Ever since your moment within the town, Feyre, Cassian, Mor, everyone had made sure that you were taken care of and heard. It took some time to get used to, admittedly, all the extra attention. At first you had slightly resented it as you could only imagine it as an act of pity and after you had an episode, you also understood that the type of thinking is how the eldest Archereon is as cold as she is. Plus, the time you spend with them has created strong bonds and happy memories for you.

It also had you picking up new hobbies that you never had time for before.

Turns out you can cook.

And bake.

Really well actually.

So well that often times when you bake a new treat or snack, upon knowing of its presence, the residents of the house would have it gone within the hour. It made you feel good, to be able to repay in some way the aid they have given you.

The mystery that is your abilities have yet to be explored since the outburst, but you also didn’t mind as your head was finally wrapping around the circumstances you have been put through. Although, the High Lord or Rhys, had expressed interest in potentially figuring it out soon to see if it could help them and the court. You were all over it, and the aspect of integrating into this family further made you excited.

Arriving in the kitchen, you begin gathering ingredients to make breakfast. The house, although it can provide anything you wish for food, seemed to pick up on your therapeutic hobby and promoted it. Even gathering ingredients and appearing them before you on the counterspace. You always chalked it up to the house wanting a break from constantly taking care of people, but deep down you knew it seemed to have a little soft spot for you. Whipping together the batter, throwing it in the divine oven and cooking the meats to perfection, the breakfast is ready in about an hour.

The sun had settled into the sky, far from shining over the horizon which had its’ light wake you.

It was still early though.

Looking at the spread before you, you had asked the house to keep it warm and ready for everyone as they began to roll out of bed and chase the heavenly scent of pancakes, bacon and omelet.

It was Azriel’s favorite.

The skin of your cheeks flared at the thought and shook your head at how absurd you are. Cooking and baking for everyone allowed you to take notice of things that they had favored over the rest, often being expressed vocally. However, some, like the spymaster, just through body language and action would key you into likes and dislikes. Feyre loved eggs benedict, in almost nauseatingly cuteness, so did her mate. When you would make it, almost as a sixth sense, those two would always be the first to arrive and express how happy the dish made them before gathering a large plate. Cassian was a sandwich guy, anything quick and simple, but he swears you enchant the sausage and bacon you add to be sweet and salty at the same time. On those days you often must make a bounty of those little sandwiches for him to take with him for the day. Mor liked simple muffins and like Cass, would wrap one up to go while giving you a hug on her way out. Nesta and Elaine hadn’t showed up for breakfast but the youngest seemed to prefer oatmeal, which ironically was also her favorite while human.

Azriel was the hardest to read. With every dish you made, breakfast/lunch/dinner, he would appreciate and eat like a man starved (an exaggeration but you always found your eyes on him anyway). You had switched up the recipes and altered the assortment of foods, but every time he would tell you how much he liked it and clear the plate.

It wasn’t until you truly watched him did you found out just how much he loved the simple things in life.

It was a day like any other, you had cooked breakfast and set up the table for a nice meal as you had known everyone would be able to sit and eat together. It was uncommon so you made a tried-and-true love by everyone.

Bacon, eggs and pancakes with homemade lavender syrup that you asked Elaine to harvest for you in her garden.

As everyone sat, you couldn’t help but let your eyes stare as the spymaster sat down fresh out of bed and allowed a little small smile to grace his features looking at the plate he had. It was all you needed to know, and each time you would serve something new, you would watch for the little ticks that he would allow to shine through.

A smile.

A little sigh and relief of tension from his shoulders.

A gentle extra “Thank you” which he would all but whisper across the table to you.

All of it had your heart thumping and blood rushing to your face, allowing that little butterfly to turn into hundreds.

After his comment after taking you home, he had made his presence around you more common and you loved it. Every time the two of you were together time became irrelevant, the serene sense that would settle over your body was addictive. You had only prayed that he got the same sense of belonging.

He was such a pretty male.

So gentle and observant.

It was so hard to not have your feelings bleed into your everyday life and movements. It wasn’t long after the incident with him that your thoughts were all but consumed by him.

Not that you were complaining.

“It smells divine in here.” The soft sound of Mor broke you out of your rather long thoughts of Az, as an easy smile fell over your face.

“I wanted to make something simple today.” You shrug, but meeting the second hand’s eyes, you stumbled slightly.

“How are you settling in Y/n?” Her tone was inquisitive, but the smile that bloomed her face left you choking.

“Well.” You coughed, “I’m settling in well.”

“Anyone in particular helping you out?” You narrowed your eyes to her.

“Everyone has been amazing.”

“Oh, come on Y/n!” She shuffled towards you as mischief glinted in her eyes. “You can tell me; we all see it.”

Your heart stopped.

“All?” Her light laughter halted.

“No not all, some though.” Your breathing resumed. “I highly doubt if you wrote a sign with all these love meals, he still wouldn’t see it.” It was chastising, lovingly, but still with a little edge to it.

“He is just being friendly Mor.” You argue with a sigh. It was the one thought you couldn’t get out of your head. Viewing his relationship with everyone and his attentiveness towards Elaine. You couldn’t help but just feel as if he enjoyed your presence, but as a friend.

Mor sighed and looked towards the still steaming pile of pancakes and syrup.

“I know it can be difficult to believe, but he’s more relaxed around you. If any two people deserve to be happy or even have a shot, it’s you two.” The sounds of footsteps down the hall had her breaking away from you but not without a nod sent towards her. You would be open to him and the idea, more than just the little crush you have accumulated.

The in-question footsteps that had the conversation halting belonged to Feyre, Rhys and the male in question. Most likely fresh from training as small beads of sweat pooled on their skin and hair showed dampness.

You watched the spymaster’s eyes alight, taking in the assortment of his favorites on the counter. He quickly grabbed a plate, effortlessly and unbeknownst to his high lord and lady, cutting in front of them to scoop his desired piles.

“Y/n, you are the most amazing person I have ever met.” Feyre exclaimed as her body seemed to quiver with the simple task of standing, but her obviously salivating mouth had her also reaching for cutlery and plates to pile stuff onto. Rhys laughed in response to her antics and followed suit, thanking you in the process as both followed the now seated Azriel to the table. It was sweet, his honor to wait for you to be seated and with food to begin eating. You could tell some days it really tried his control; however, those days you knew without a shadow of a doubt that he truly loved the food that had been prepared. Glancing back towards the table, you met eyes briefly with Azriel.

The warmth that showed in them had you ignite with hope and adoration towards the male, almost uncontrollably so. It had you smiling and fiddling at the ends of your hair.

The following sounds of heavier steps broke your attention.

“Can I just say, I am in love with you.” Cassian entered the kitchen with heat and brought you into a quick embrace. The smell of sweat and sand had you scrunching your nose but the laugh that exited you had him add a little spin before setting you down.

The soft sound of a chair being moved echoed as you didn’t realize the table had become quiet, watching.

Mor had a shit eating grin, but not at you, but at the now walking over Spymaster. The same spymaster picked up your loaded plate (you were waiting for everyone to be served before doing so yourself) and brought it back to the table, setting it down in the open seat across from himself. You tilted your head but caught the small look between the mates at the table, notably having a non-verbal conversation. Looking back at the general, he too had a smile, but one only aimed at you and the food in front of you.

“I’ll be over once I pile the rest of the bacon on.” Another laugh emitted from you as you walked over to your place, noting the food had been set down gently and not disturbed when Azriel had placed it.

You looked up and met his hazel eyes, there was a slight edge to it, but not at you. In fact, when you met his eyes, you could’ve sworn they melted from that ice back to the warmth that was once there before.

The settling of plates had you glance over at Cassian. He was only a seat away from, you but on the other side of the table.

Easy conversation settled over the table as everyone began to eat. Taking bites of your eggs and bacon, a small moan of appreciation rattled through you. You caught movement in your peripheral where Azriel sat, but didn’t bother to check or see what it was assuming it was just him enjoying his meal. Even you had to admit this was good. Similar sounds followed suit as everyone dug in and the sounds of scraping of plates that filled the room.

“Are you busy today?” Cassian piped up after shoveling a rather large mouthful of egg. You shook your head; you didn’t think you had anything planned but were going to ask if Azriel had a couple hours to spare for some time alone with him to talk. You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could Az had cleared his throat and spoke up.

“We have plans.” The room turned towards the male as he stared at his brother, the ice returning to his gaze. You wracked your brain trying to make sure you didn’t forget plans that you had made prior but came up empty. That grin from Mor returned as she made eye contact with you.

Suddenly the leftover soggy pancakes on your plate looked really interesting.

“Oh?” The brother threw back. Looking over to Cassian again, you nodded along feigning innocence.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve forgotten for a moment.” Although you knew your best friend and possibly Mor clocked it quick, you allowed the easy smile to lay it on thick with the general. He returned it and nodded along, taking the lie for a simple slip of the mind.

“No problem, but when you’re free I want to show you around the training grounds. I think it could be good for you.” Your chest filled with pride again, even some that you didn’t think could be your own, but none the less made you feel all nice. As everyone cleaned up and filed out, you caught eyes with Azriel.

His shoulders were tense.

Nervous even.

The depth of his shadows swirled around him as he took particularly long to wash up his plate.

Watching the last of your friends exit the kitchen and the food clean itself up and put away, you made light steps over to the shadowsinger.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” You ask. The feign confidence of your words had Az glancing over with a small smile. Releasing a little sigh, he removed his eyes from his now empty hands which wrapped around the front of the sink. He had leaned into it, seemingly matching your confident air.

“Anything you want, sunshine.” Your cheeks flushed as you looked away. Today was a record for heat that entered your face. You tried your best not to allow the nerves in your stomach to ruin the encounter.

You would be fine.

It’s just two friends hanging out.

All normal here.

But the ideas that Mor had fed into your brain ran rampant.

“There is a bakery and some shops I want to explore. Can we go today?” You originally had plans to go with Feyre. In fact, she had made you swear you wouldn’t go without her because she heard the pastries were divine.

She would forgive you once she knew who you went with instead.

“Of course, I’ve been meaning to make a couple stops as well. We can go together.” You couldn’t help the small seed of selfishness from talking as you held eye contact with the male.

“Can you fly us down? I’m still not used to winnowing.” It was the most believable lie you have ever let slip past your lips, but you didn’t feel sorry about it. Would you ever admit it was because you wanted to be pressed against him with adrenaline rushing through you? Or that you wanted to feel his strong arms hold you without a single ounce of sweat or issue? Perhaps that you wanted to smell his scent of frost and night and hope to any god that would listen that it would cling to the sweater you would wear. Not if your life depended on it and there was a sword slitting your throat.

However, something in the way Azriel’s eyes darkened slightly and his smile turned into a smirk had you second guessing how thoroughly your ulterior motives had been hidden.

“Anything for you Sunshine, wouldn’t dream of making you ill.”

He clocked it.

Tags:

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @willowpains @adventure-awaits13 @

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #morrigan #cassian #rhysand

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beensbaee · 4 months ago

Text

𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

summary; neteyam helps his favorite girl out after she gets sick.

word count! 2.4k

SICKENINGLY SWEET.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You never missed breakfast.

It was your favorite meal of the day - the time where you and Neteyam would finally see each other after the night had kept you apart from your yawne. Beloved.

During breakfasts, he’d pick the freshest fruits from his bowl and place them into yours - piling and piling the delicious treats on your plate and insisting you deserved to eat only the best. Of course you would share with him - the two of you feeding each other while Lo’ak would gag dramatically at the romantic gesture.

Neteyam had been waiting patiently for you, sitting with his empty bowl in front of him and an already assembled plate - which was overflowing with delicious fruits - placed next to him and meant for you.

The first few minutes of your initial absence were nothing concerning - you were usually always a little late. Your tardiness always gave him a laugh. He’d watch you stumble in between na’vi’s who were already seated - flustered and apologizing every time for passing through with an embarrassed smile on your face as you made your way to him.

When the clan began eating, he told himself you were just running a little more late than usual. Neytiri nudged him, asking him why he was not eating. He only smiled, fingers running over the bracelet on his wrist which you’d gifted him as he explained he wouldn’t eat until you arrived.

Jake gave his eldest son a toothy grin at his words - while Lo’ak groaned

“Seriously? You refuse to eat? She’s not gonna die if you take a bite, you know.” Lo’ak insisted, inspecting the tower of food on your plate with clear jealousy as Neteyam carefully moved it away from his brother - already anticipating Lo’ak wouldn’t even hesitate to snatch a fruit from your plate.

“Yes, I know. But I’ll eat when she comes. Jealous she has more food than you, baby bro?” Neteyam teased as Lo’ak rolled his eyes

“You know she’d share them all with me if I just asked her.” Lo’ak threw back as Neteyam grinned

“Yes. I know that.” He said, a smile on his face as Lo’ak resumed his meal, ranting on about how he’d never hold off his meal for anyone.

But Neteyam’s worriedness only grew as he didn’t hear the usual ruckus of your late arrival - his eyes searched the rows of peacefully eating na’vi and he didn’t see you at all. He also quickly realized your mother had also not come.

“Mother, I am going to check on Y/n. She and her mother are not here - may I eat with her, wherever she may be?” Neteyam quickly asked as Neytiri nodded her head with a frown

“I hope she is all right - make sure you take enough food for all of you to eat!” Neytiri called out after Neteyam as he quickly picked up your plate - bidding his family goodbye as his feet found the familiar path towards your home.

His brows were furrowed as he stood outside your sleeping area, seeing your mother and his Grandmother talking quietly

“Poor girl.” He heard your mother whisper as he slowly approached the pair with furrowed brows

“Auntie - Grandmother, Oel ngati kameie.” He spoke, his eyes worried as your mother sent the boy a sad smile

“Oel ngati kameie Neteyam. She is sick, my boy.” Your mother whispered, her quiet voice clearly indicating you were resting inside as Neteyam’s ears fell

“Sick? Y/n is sick?” He quickly asked as his Grandmother hushed him, handing Neteyam a small bottle as she turned to him with a strict gaze

“She won’t take the medicine - I have no idea why. That girl is stubborn, one of her only flaws. Do you think you can make her take it?” His Grandmother asked with urgency present in her voice as your mother gently took your fruit plate from Neteyam, giving his cheek a quick kiss before taking it inside. He smiled at her before turning back to his Grandmother with a nod

“Yes of course. She will take it.” He answered dutifully, knowing just how stubborn you could be at times. He loved everything about you - to him, you had no flaws. He did not see it as stubbornness, but determination.

“Good. Make sure she drinks the entire thing, every drop. It is necessary for her recovery. You care about her, right?” His grandmother asked as Neteyam immediately nodded his head

“Good. Now, go on.” She said, opening the flap and letting Neteyam go inside while she left, no doubt following your mother wherever she went.

You laid in your hammock, tracing the designs on the fabric mindlessly with your back towards him. He approached you slowly, his gentle hands moving forward to rest on your back

You turned at the touch of his hands - eyes confused and sleepy until you recognized the familiar boy - your yawne.

“Oh Neteyam! I missed you dearly.” You breathed out, your voice hoarse as Neteyam reached to cradle your face in his hands. He saw how tired you were and frowned

“My sweet girl, how did you get so sick? Y/n, you were fine last night.” Neteyam insisted, his voice concerned as he helped you sit up after seeing you try and fail with how tired you were.

“I am fine - just a little tired. And my throat.” You groaned, laying back down almost immediately after he helped you sit up with your arms outstretched above your head. Neteyam moved forward to feel your forehead before he let out a long sigh

“Your forehead is burning, tiyawn. Did you sleep well last night?” He questioned with a soft voice as he knelt beside your hammock, your medicine placed on the ground and out of your view as you let out a huff of breath.

“Yes! I was perfectly fine until this morning! I woke up with my head hurting and my feet aching.” You cried out as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, hands immediately moving to massage your feet after the words left your mouth

“My poor girl.” He said, his tone was teasing - you could easily hear the playful undertone. But you still curled towards him, relaxing as his hands released the pent up tension in your feet.

“Mmm. You know you’re the best, right?” You said as you closed your eyes. You felt his hands falter at your statement, and you peeked an eye open to look at him. He continued massaging, but he was frowning now.

“You won’t like me much in a little bit.” He said with a weak chuckle as you tilted your head in confusion

“Y/n, I know you won’t take the medicine. My Grandmother asked me to -”

“No!”

Your voice was hoarse as you yelled out, and Neteyam quickly put his hands up in surrender

“Easy, easy yawne. Lay back down.” He said gently as you crossed your arms over your chest firmly

“Neteyam, please. I do not want to take it.” You murmured as you rubbed your eyes. He clicked his tongue - showing his disappointment in your words as you turned to him with a knowing look.

“You wanna tell me why you’re so set on never taking this?” He questioned with a raised brow while holding the small bottle in the air, swishing it around as the green liquid moved inside

“I…I can’t tell you.” You stated, your voice quiet now as Neteyam clasped your hand comfortingly

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/n.” He spoke. His tone so calm after your outburst - so sincere that you felt yourself caving in from his sweet tactics

“Ok, ok. I am…afraid?” You said hesitantly, your words sounding more like a question than the intended statement as Neteyam’s eyes quickly widened

“No no, I know that look! You want to laugh!” You accused, pointing at him as he shook his head with a smile

“Why would I laugh at such a genuine fear?” He said whilst laughing. You felt your cheeks heat up as you huffed, crossing your arms and slumping in your hammock

“I’m sorry, so sorry alright? Now, tell me why you’re afraid.” He apologized, moving closer to you as his laughter subsided

After rolling your eyes, you decided there’s no need to hide why at all

“It smells funky.” You confess as his smile only widened

“Funky?”

“Yes. Disturbingly.”

The way you said it was so serious - like the medicine should genuinely be investigated, and it had him laughing all over again

“Oh I am so glad my sickness is so funny to you Neteyam!” You exclaimed as he quickly shook his head, struggling to wipe the smile off his face

“Y/n, listen. My Grandmother adores you, you think she didn’t pick the strongest and most effective cure for your sickness?” He asked as he searched your eyes, seeing your once positive demeanor fall as you realized the Tsahìk would never give you a bad medicine.

Your initial thoughts was that it had rotted when you’d first smelt the absolutely horrible thing, but you realized how silly that even sounded. The Tsahìk probably made it fresh just for you.

You thought for a bit, sitting in silence before you let out a sigh that had Neteyam’s ears perking up.

“Fine, I will drink it.” You said, looking at the medicine with hesitation as Neteyam placed a kiss on your cheek

“There’s my girl. Open up.” He said while you carefully opened your mouth for him. He untwisted the cap on the bottle, carefully tipping it into your mouth as you swallowed the distasteful thing with a strangled gasp

After drinking the entire thing - every drop - he gave you the leaf holding water beside your hammock to wash down the after taste

You were still coughing, and he gently patted your back to help you - his encouraging words never stopping as he told you how good you were

“So brave, that medicine had me shaking too, you know?” He said laughing as you joined in with him, unable to hold in your giggles as his tail swayed at the sound

“Now, push over.” He said with a playful gleam in his eyes

After talking for what seemed hours and the two of you eating all the fruits he’d brought - sleep eventually took over.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You’d slept the whole day - and when you awoke, eclipse was nearing.

Your eyes widened as you realized the entire day had gone by while you were resting, and a sigh of disappointment left your lips as you realized you’d be unable to spend the rest of your day with Neteyam - as the two of you only separated at night to go to your respective sleeping quarters with your own families.

He must have left after you fell asleep to give you any more space you might’ve needed - and as much as you loved his generous heart, you wished he’d been selfish and stayed.

The medicine must have made you so tired, because it was only minutes later before you were asleep again.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He awoke with his head burning and feet aching.

He groaned as he sat up, the light outside indicating it was midday by now.

He felt a soft hand on his chest lightly push him to lay back down, and he felt his heart leap at the sight of you

“Y/n?” He breathed out as you smiled sadly

“I got you sick - if you hate me, I can leave.” You whispered, and he sighed with pure relief as he realized you were better - your once tired eyes had regained their lively shine and the fact made him relax. He’d gone to sleep the night before tossing and turning - not knowing if your condition was better or if it had worsened - only contributing more to his lack of sleep and worsening his sickness

“Hate you? Never.” He said weakly with a breathless laugh that had you rolling your eyes and your arms reaching out to envelop him in a hug

“I am so sorry, Neteyam. It is my fault entirely. But I know just how to make you feel better!” You exclaimed, quickling looking into the pouch that Mo’at had given you as a pleased gasp left your lips

“Ta-da!” You singsonged as you held up the oh too familiar bottle

He let out a groan at the sight that had you laughing

“Can’t believe I’m the one taking it now.” He grumbled. Though his voice was entirely grumpy, there was a smile on his face as you opened the bottle

“There’s my boy. Open up.” You teased, throwing his words back to him as his lips parted in an instant for you.

You tipped the medicine into his mouth as he drank it all, a dribble of it trickling it down his chin as you wiped it away with a laugh

He was coughing moments later from the after taste - and like a good partner, you had water prepared and ready for him - and he drank it gratefully

Neytiri approached Neteyam’s hammock with the intention of simply checking in on him - but her steps slowed once she saw you kneeling beside him as the two of you spoke quietly

She watched with a secretive smile - the way you cradled Neteyam’s face as you peppered kisses all over him was simply adorable. She knew you’d have a heart attack if you knew she saw you kissing her son - so she began to leave, a smile on her face as she left the two of you alone.

After a lot of convincing, Neteyam let you lay with him in his hammock. You’d told him how the medicine the Tsahìk had given you would make sure you didn’t get sick again for the next few weeks - and he hesitantly placed his arms around you with a sigh - worried he’d get you sick.

“You’re so warm.” You mumbled against his skin as he merely chuckled, nuzzling his face into your scalp as he sighed

“Pretty sure that is because I’m sick.” He replied and you pretended to be grossed out

“Yuck!” You said laughing as you placed a kiss on his nose - one that had him blushing and hiding his face in the crook of your neck

It didn’t take even an hour more until the two of you were snoring away - your arms wrapped around each other as you slept safe and sound in one anothers embrace.

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