#it’s supposed to be step sibling romance

[intomybubble]

Aaaaaah the volume covers for Uchi no Otouto-domo ga sumimasen are really pretty

[velvrei]

logan dating tony starks daughter !!! like he wants to dislike you soooooo bad because he automatically assumes you’re some spoilt brat who’s always gotten anything and everything that she’s wanted without having to lift a finger but after being forced to spend time with you (probably because of missions) he can’t help but fall head over heels for you!!! that stark charm is definitely something to be in awe of (ur dad and him still despise each other tho)

the other stark

pairing: older!logan howlett x stark!reader

summary: logan finally meets you, tony starks daughter at an avengers gala. as much as he thinks you are a stuck up brat who has everything handed to her, he couldn’t wait to have his hands on you.

warnings: smut, age gap (legal), somewhat forbidden romance, slight degradation, praise kink, cowgirl position, face riding, oral (f receiving), kinda slow burn, kinda enemies to lovers, really filthy smut, intentional overuse of the word fuck at the end, tony is pissed when he finds out

word count: 5k

a/n: don’t look to closely on the gif cause you’ll find the part where i didn’t try

nsfw below the cut!

logan was not looking forward to attending the avenger’s ‘met gala'. mostly because he knew he would be meeting the folks he was supposed to despise the most.

tony stark invited the x-men as a way of trying to mend the rip between the two groups; it was always avengers vs. the x-men, never avengers and the x-men. tony wanted to change that. logan didn’t.

as everyone arrive, there was a little red carpet where several photographers stood, flashing pictures in the hopes of capturing good shots of each of the visitors.

the x-men limo slowly approached the curb, with spectators surrounding the vehicle as everyone exited.

logan huffed and climbed out the door, disregarding the fangirls that surrounded him, eager to get the night over with.

he walked up to the carpet alongside his team, each member getting a solo shot. when it was logan’s turn, he rested his face and let the camera take pictures of him, stood up straight.

he was wearing dress pants, a button up, with the sleeves rolled up just above his forearms, and a black vest over his button up. the shirt easily displayed his muscles, which he claimed was unintentional, but it was vastly intentional.

the paparazzi turned their cameras as another limo pulled up, and out came peter parker, and logan rolled his eyes knowing it was all the younger avengers.

logan couldn’t help but watch as peter stepped to the side, holding his hand out as he watched a woman get out. he gulped, seeing who the woman was.

it was you, tony starks daughter, or so he heard from his team. he had never actually met you. as much as he wanted to persuade himself he wasn't drawn to you, it would be a complete lie.

you were wearing a long, form fitting dress. it was a dark red, almost maroon. you wore gold heels and chunky gold bangles and necklace along with it, making sure it wasn’t just one color, which was something logan noticed.

peter stood at your side and it made logan a bit curious as to what your relationship with him was, but once he saw you two begin bickering he quickly realized it was more of a sibling relationship.

logan felt like he was going through the five stages of grief as the two of you walked over, followed by some others that exited the limo. you walked in front of peter, walking up to the red carpet.

logan was still stood in the middle, he quickly turned his attention in front of him, looking at the camera for the picture.

“logan! pose with tony’s daughter!” one of the men behind the camera shouted. peter shot you a protective look, however you just shook your head, silently telling him to calm down.

logan almost huffed as you walked up next to him, even though you had never met the man, it would be more embarrassing to turn down the offer in front of millions of people.

“logan.” you say.

logan questions the fact you know him, wondering if he should’ve done his research beforehand.

“y/n.” he responds. he knows your name, and that’s it. he knows nothing else about you, and he is almost sure he doesn’t want to know.

the more he stood next to you, the longer he saw how many times you posed for the camera, wanting to roll his eyes but holding back knowing that would definitely get caught on camera.

you gave a small smile to the camera, turning to logan as you stood next to him. the two of you stood together, nothing more.

logan saw it as awkward, while you thought nothing of it, walking off the red carpet as he followed, quickly finding his team in attempt to avoid speaking to you any longer.

…

it had been an hour and logan hadn’t seen you again sense the introduction. he knew he was bound to be brought back to you again, but he didn’t want to be the cause of it.

logan finally spotted wade, approaching him, trying to pretend that wade wasn’t his comfort person.

“well hello my second favorite furball! i’ve missed you.” wade’s words make logan roll his eyes.

“missed ya too, bub. i barely know anyone here.” logan admits, quietly. he looks around the room to see if he saw anyone else he was comfortable with, but he just saw you in the corner, casually chatting with thor.

wade gasps, beginning to speak loudly on purpose. “the wolverine doesn’t know people-” wade starts but logan covers his mouth, staring daggers into his eyes.

“shut the fuck up. now is not the time.” logan says rather quiet, seeming a bit panicky as wade furrows his eyebrows.

wade goes to say a muffled remark but catches where logan’s distress is coming from. logan slowly lets go of wade’s mouth, watching as wade’s face brightens as if a light bulb had just been placed over his head.

“is billionaire bitch still your opp?”

“stop fucking talking like that.”

wade couldn’t help but giggle. “is it because of tony? he’s trying to make amends, stud muffin. i don’t know why you’re stressed.”

logan goes to respond, but takes a second, actually processing. “i- i don’t know why i’m stressed either if im being honest.”

wade smiled, appreciating the fact that his friend was actually processing his feelings instead of pushing away. that was something wade had taught logan, which was something wade had learned from his therapist.

“logan, you can’t hate the avengers forever. we’re gonna be forced to work with them. and as much as you may hate the starks, i’ve already looked at the first mission list and you’re partnered up with stark’s daughter.”

logan practically chokes on his champagne as wade speaks his last sentence. logan didn’t know whether to be curious or incredibly annoyed.

“oh, fuck me…” logan complains, rubbing his forehead.

wade holds back a giggle, “oh, i’m sure she will.”

with a smack to wade’s arm, the two boys noticed you and your father making your way over to them. logan almost cussed out tony in his head.

tony walked up, you not far behind your father, you have wade a side hug and gave logan a hand shake, that was strangely quick. tony smiled his millionaire smile. “thank you guys for joining us tonight. so glad you could make it, and i’m so happy we can finally kill this little rivalry.”

you knew your dad was being fake, but it wasn’t your place to say anything, especially when it was against wolverine and deadpool.

logan spoke the words, “i’m happy to be here,” but his face showed different, which earned him a smack in the arm from wade.

“i bet. we have a lovely spread of finger foods and you’re more than welcome to help yourself to some more champagne. would’ve told you how expensive it was before you decided to chug it all, however that’s okay.”

logan literally bit his tongue to stop himself from retaliating. if it was really okay as tony offered, tony wouldn’t care of the price.

after a few more dreadful minutes of banter between the two, and many side eye looks between you and wade, tony walked away, leaving just you, wade and logan.

which wade quickly saw himself out. “i’m gonna go find the woman with the magic hands, been dying to meet her. you two fartknockers try not to kill each other, okay?” his voice seemed so sarcastic but wasn’t, which made you almost smile.

wade walked away and left the two of you there. logan sighed as you started talking.

“you know, you don’t have to avoid me, logan.”

logan’s eyes shot up into yours. he wasn’t avoiding you. was he? “excuse me?”

you almost huffed, watching as his body tensed up. you stood up straight, even though you were still a bit shorter than him. “logan. i am not my father.”

your words cause logan to scoff. logan knew you weren’t your father. he just saw you as an exact replica of your bloodline. he didn’t want to say that right to your face, but you noticed he was processing a response, so you ignored the awkward silence and let him get his thoughts in order.

“obviously, you’re not him. your father is a 55 year old billionaire with a mustache. however you two are more similar than you think.”

his words make you think for a minute, deciding to keep the conversation a bit flirty, as much as you convinced yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

“listen, my father and i are just like you and wade. one is the caustic, sassy fighter who never knows when to quit. and the other is the hot one who simply follows the other's example.” your remarks force his brow to furrow.

out of the long phrase you just said, logan only processed one thing. “did you just call me hot?”

you smiled, batting your eyelashes before answered. “no, i called myself hot. you just happened to assume we’re similar, proving my point.”

logan hated how self centered you were. key word, hated. logan slowly realized how attractive your confidence was, but covered it up through his grunts and complaints of how stuck up you were. you weren’t wrong at all. you were hot, and there was nothing he could do about it.

logan rolled his eyes, “of course. you evil woman.” his words were half sarcastic, but you smiled, quickly remarking to his comment.

“you can call me evil, lo, but you can’t call me ugly.” and with that you walked away, leaving him there in his thoughts for the second time that night.

logan huffed. he would be lying if he said your words didn’t get to him. but he couldn’t. he was over half your age, and your father was the one person on this earth he couldn’t stand.

…

the first mission was the hardest. you and logan didn’t agree on much, the two of you couldn’t even decide on what food the team should get after the mission.

with each mission, logan felt his hatred for you slowly slipping away. as much as he tried to keep it because of who your father was, he couldn’t help but secretly adore you. your confidence, your skills, your remarks.

when you shared missions, logan was always paired with you. wade was sometimes there, but sometimes it was just the two of you. logan was the muscles, while you were the brains.

as much as he hated that, each mission he found it easier and easier to protect you. at first, he almost didn’t want to, so that way you could possibly learn your lesson.

then, by the third mission, he was protecting you like you were his own. you noticed those changes, knowing you were slowly getting to the man.

it was the aftermath of the fifth mission. all the avengers and x-men rented out a hotel through tony’s card. it was a smaller one, but was able to fit everybody. each partner was neighbored, but thankfully for logan not in the same room if opposite genders.

so logan was lucky enough to have a room to himself, however, that meant sleeping on his bed, knowing yours was on the opposite side of the wall. the walls weren’t exactly thick, which made it harder for him to keep himself together.

he felt filthy as he listened to your phone conversation with one of your friends. he refrained his interest and was just laying in his bed, reading a book when something you said striked his interest.

he assumed your friend asked about the person you were partnered up with, because as soon as your name left his mouth he couldn’t help but listen.

“yeah, i’m with logan.” he perked up, placing a book mark into his book before placing it onto his nightstand. he felt creepy listening in on your conversation, but convinced himself he had every right because he heard his name.

he heard nothing but mumbles from your friend, before he heard you speaking again.

“yeah, i can’t even lie, everytime i walk past him i just… there’s just something about him being my dad’s least favorite person that makes me want him even more.”

logan was at a loss for words. you wanted him? no. you couldn’t. he was practically forbidden. he felt like a pervert at the fact that his pants were tightening.

the friend laughed, and logan was not tuned out from your conversation, wondering what should be done from there. he quickly reminded himself that was your private conversation that he wasn’t supposed to hear, so what he knows must remain a secret.

…

logan usually wasn’t one to get much sleep, especially during the nights during missions, and especially only hours ago he found out you had the hots for him.

it was around two in the morning. he tossed and turned, trying to figure out what he should do.

he paused, throat feeling dry. he stood, throwing on his pajama pants, not bothering to wear a shirt before he left his hotel room, walking down the single set of stairs to the mini den, where there was a small kitchen and some lounge chairs.

he unintentionally scanned the room, catching you sitting in one of the lounge chairs, book in hand and your reading glasses sat low on your nose.

he swallowed his spit, walking over the the cupboard and grabbing a small glass, filling it with clean tap water from the sink.

the noise of the water running through the sink brought you from your reading trance, you took your glasses from your face and set your book down, finally noticing logan’s presence.

you slowly stood up, and logan tried to ignore your actions. looking out the window above the sink and quickly downing his water.

before he could leave the room you stopped him. “got somewhere to be?” your words made him sigh, head falling down as he turned his body to you.

he shook his head, realizing his attempt to avoid you was unsuccessful. you gave him your signature smile, not breaking eye contact even though he was tempted to.

“just tired.” his eyes tell different. he wasn’t tired at all. just couldn’t sleep. he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to now that he was down here with you.

“why are you lying to me? why are you avoiding me?” your words slow down as you mention him avoiding you, making sure your sentence really sinks in to his mind.

you couldn’t help but eye his shirtless figure, noticing how defined his abs we’re and feeling yourself become wet because of how manly he looked.

he notices your eyes and gulps, you watch his adams apple bob, and he suddenly realizes he needs to not look like a fucking pussy, even though he feels like one.

“why do you care?” his voice is back to his usual raspy. there’s your boy. you smile, finally recognizing he was back to the grumpy man you know and forbiddingly wanted.

“am i supposed to not care because my dad doesn’t? because i’ve told you many times. i am not my father.”

logan couldn’t help but search your body up and down. his act of checking you out, which you caught, makes your smile grow. “clearly not.” logan murmurs.

you eyebrows raise, your eyes never leaving his. “is that flirty comment leaving your mouth?” your words make him almost stutter but he takes a deep breath to stop himself from being vulnerable around you.

“no. it’s only flirting if you take it that way. i’m not flirting with you. i can’t.” logan’s last words make you curious. was he not flirting because he didn’t want to, or cause he couldn’t?

“you can’t? cause of my dad? fuck who my dad is. as much as i love him he’s gotten in the way of almost everything i’ve wanted that didn’t follow his path for me. i’m not letting him ruin this for me.” his breath quickened as you continued, “sometimes a girl needs to be taken care of. no matter who it is..”

your words make his eyes widen. he didn’t even know what to say.

we’re you flirting with him? he knew based on your phone call earlier that you wanted him because of the thrill it brought. but was that the only reason? did you actually want him?

“is that right?” his voice is low, trying to hide his desperation, and his words make you realize you’ve got him. he’s slowly letting down his forbidden barrier.

which is exactly what you wanted.

you step closer to him. “exactly right.” you were so close to him, only a few inches from his face, his husky breath fanning your face, you were able to smell his minty toothpaste from when he brushed his teeth just a few hours before.

you smiled, trailing a hand down his arm, watching satisfied as he shivered beneath your touch. “feels good, doesn’t it?”

logan backed up, finally letting his head reprocess what was happening. “no. y/n. we can’t. we can’t.” he repeats, and you can’t tell if he’s convincing you, or himself.

"why not? cause of my dad? don't you want to anger him? make him mad? isn't that what you've always wanted? well his daughter is standing right here, begging you to take care of her, to show her how she deserves to be taken care of."

logan almost moans at the thought. you step closer to him again, hand running down his arm.

you watched as he shivered, but instead of stepping back this time, he leans into your touch.

he sighs, your touch calming his nerves. he looks down at you, jaw clenching. "i'm.. too old for you. you deserve someone younger."

his words almost make you scoff in disagreement, and you couldn't help but disagree more with him.

"younger? all the guys my age are either assholes or taken, logan. i need someone older, to take care of me, to show me what it's like to be treated right, and fucked good. wouldn't you rather that that be you, rather than another man your age?"

it's like you knew just what to say, because he was standing there, as his dick hardened in his pants at your words.

he wanted you so bad. he didn't know what to say. he wanted to protest, for your sake, all he knew is that he wanted you so fucking bad.

your name tumbles from his lips, trying to think of what to say next.

“don’t tell me we can’t. because we can. we can do whatever we fucking want. we’re adults, aren’t we, lo?”

he sighs as the nickname slips from your mouth, he bites his lip, looking down at you, searching your eyes for any hesitation. he found none. just pure lust. he almost moaned as you gazed into his eyes, pupils dilating slightly.

“we are.” is all he says, eyes looking from your pupils, down to your lips. he licked his, eyes sharpening as he perked up.

you smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes, practically daring him to make the first move.

you decided to tease him a bit more, knowing exactly how to irritate him.

“i could always, go find another older guy to take care of me.” your words caused him to growl, slightly, jaw clenching at the thought of you with another boy, let alone an older guy.

“hell no. you’re mine.” his words make you smile, your expression still facing away from him as you turned your head, raising your eyebrows at him.

“i’m yours?” your words slightly questioning him, “prove it.”

at that moment, logan felt all his control slipping away.

the moment he’d been waiting for had finally come, he could finally devour you the way he had dreamed about many nights before.

you started to walk away, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back in his direction and turning you around.

his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, his other on your waist, bringing you closer and finally connecting your lips with his.

he moaned into the kiss, knowing this was the moment he’d been waiting for. his lips were hungry, he was hungry.

logan let his hands roam along your body, both going down to grab your ass, squeezing and chuckling as you squealed into his mouth, taking that as his chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, touching yours.

he couldn’t help but moan as your lips wrapped around his tongue, sucking on it.

your eyes looked at his. causing his body to tremble at how dirty you were being.

he quickly squeezed your ass again, as the two of you continued to kiss, spreading your legs and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“who knew you were so fucking naughty.” he whispered against your lips, pecking them after speaking then setting you onto the counter.

he stood in between your legs, hands running up your thighs, noticing how short your sleep shorts really were.

he kissed you again, kissing your jaw and continuing down your neck.

he made out with the sensitive skin just below your chin, panting as your head fell back gently against the cupboard.

his hands slowly went under your t-shirt, nails running against your torso, and up to your chest, squeezing, hearing as you moaned, quickly bringing one out and covering your mouth.

“gotta stay quiet, sugar. wouldn’t want your father hearing and getting curious.”

you moan into his hand, and he just chuckles at you, enjoying how needy you’re being just for him. he’s grunting against your skin, his hand moving faster than his brain.

he tries to ignore the fact his dick is practically leaking in his pants as his hand runs up your thigh, closer and closer to your core.

his face is still in your neck, as his hand pushes your shorts and underwear aside, his other still around your mouth to silence your sounds.

he quickly slips a finger in your pussy, smiling into your neck as he feels you moan into his hand. he pressed a kiss against your neck, as he wasted no time, thumb rubbing against your clit as his finger penetrated your hole.

he stuck another finger in, loving the fact he had you trembling under him. his two fingers curved inside of you, watching as your thighs shook at his unexpected action.

you whined into his hand, almost biting down onto his fingers.

he noticed that and removed his hand for a brief second before slipping his fingers into your mouth.

his lips moved from your neck to your ear. “god, look at you, letting my fingers stuff two of your holes,” he moaned around your fingers, smiling to himself as he shoves them down your throat.

his fingers leave your mouth after making you gag, his other set of two fingers still inside your pussy.

his other hand went to your neck, holding it as he licked a long stripe up and kissed it, nibbling on your soft skin.

“fuck, if your dad walked down right now and saw how much of a slut you’re being for me. would piss him off so bad, wouldn’t it, sugar.”

his words made you bit your lip, holding back your whimpers and whines as his fingers relentlessly pounded into you.

you finally let out a whimper, causing his smile to grow, his fingers leaving your pussy, leaving you slightly stretched out.

he placed a sweet, quick kiss to your lips before slipping you off the counter and into his arms, carrying you bridal style.

he walked you upstairs to his hotel room, kicking the door open then kicking it closed behind him.

“sweet girl couldn’t handle being quiet, felt too fucking good didn’t it?”

he set you down, forcing you to stand, sitting himself on the bed. he unintentionally manspread, holding himself up on his elbows. “come on sugar. strip for me.”

his words only encouraged you, smiling as you took off your shirt in a teasingly slow manner, leaving you in your lace bra and skimpy pajama shorts.

he bit his lip, eyeing you up and down. normally you’d feel intimidated, but you’d been waiting for this moment for weeks. there was no time to be intimidated by him.

you smiled as you slowly slid your shorts down your legs, revealing the matching panties, causing his head to fall back.

“a matching set? you planned this, didn’t you?”

all the dots connected in his head and he couldn’t help but moan at the thought of you planning to seduce him, and the fact you wanted him that bad to make a whole plan.

he brought his hand up, using his two fingers to signal you closer. without a word you stepped closer to him.

you straddled his body, leg wrapping around his waist, before you move his elbows and push him back onto the bed.

he moaned as you did so, looking up at you with wide eyes. “oh? is that how we’re feeling, sugar?” his words only made your confidence grow, palms resting on each of his pecks.

you tilted your head slightly, bringing one hand down to his pants, slowly palming the sensitive area you were sitting on.

“yeah, don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on, either. i feel you through your pants. your little friend here’s practically screaming for me to touch him.”

your hand palms him, slowly gaining speed as logan feels his breath hitch, heart skipping a beat. the friction of your hand manipulating his clothed dick only made him harder, head falling back onto the bed, as his back arched like a slut.

the material of his pajama pants stimulating his cock in all the right places.

at this point your cunt was sticky, logan could almost feel it through the two articles of clothing, forgetting the fact yours was extremely thin.

“feels good, doesn’t it? you were already so fucking hard, lo. does it turn you on that i’m so much younger than you? that this is forbidden?” your words only make his hips buck into your hand, mouth falling open.

you smiled grew, biting your lip as you watched his desperate. “god, it does, doesn’t it? you gonna let me ride you?”

logan moaned and nod his head, “if i’m not inside you within the next ten seconds i’m flipping you over and fucking you myself.” his words made you moan, losing your dominance, feeling the sudden need for him to demolish you.

“really, you don’t want me to sit on your face?�� logan’s mouth watered at your words, quickly changing his mind.

he moaned, “wait, fuck yes. give it to me. come here and sit on my fucking face.”

you stood off him, slowly taking off your panties, then bracing yourself and climbing back on top of him, slowly making your way up to his face. you smiled, seeing logan’s desperate expression, as if he needed your pussy in order to live. he yearned for you, and it made you wetter at the sight.

you slowly hovered over his face, lowering onto his mouth, moaning as soon as his nose rubbed against your clit.

his tongue immediately went to your hole, tongue fucking you. you couldn’t help but squirm, moaning again as you felt his arms wrap around your thighs, holding you onto his face.

logan is loving the desperate way you try to bite your lip to keep yourself from being too loud, as if anyone was up at this hour.

"eating me so fucking good," you moan out, feeling as logan moans against your cunt, your words were like fuel to him, and he found himself bucking his hips at nothing because of how beautiful and desperate you sounded.

you adored how eager he was for you, causing you to scream as he moved his tongue quicker, eventually moving his entire face after noticing your liking for his nose on your clit.

he was getting so into it, being so messy, pussy clenching around his tongue, but he slowly removed his arms from your legs, lifting you off his face, then down to his abs, uninstall sitting your clit onto his hard abs, causing you both to moan.

“fuck, need you to cum on my dick, you can cum on my face later. i need you now. need you to ride me so good.”

logan moaned out as you quickly moved down, pulling down his pants and boxers, and with no warning, quickly sinking onto his dick.

logan moaned out slightly louder than you, making your smile grow.

you slowly took your hair out from the ponytail it was in, letting it fall down. logan looked up at you in awe, watching as you started to ride his cock.

“i’ve imagined this so many times, and god, nothing is better than it actually happened. you’re so fucking beautiful.”

you smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, cupping his cheek before placing your hands to his v-line, using his hot body to brace yourself as you rode his thick cock.

as you began to bounce, logan was a moaning mess. he started fucking up into you, “come on sugar, ride it.”

his words of encouragement made your moans become louder. he smiled up at you, his hands now holding your hips, holding you in place as he fucked up into you.

“that’s it, baby. take it, take my fucking cock. so fucking tight around me.” he eyes moved from your glowing body, down to your pussy, practically sucking his dick in.

“look at you, sucking me in so good, like she was made for me. fuck.” he looked at your stomach, practically seeing a bulge move in and out of you.

“can see me in your tummy, fuck,” he points out, and you look down and moan. you smiled at him, watching his glistening body, as sweat droplets formed on his forehead.

“god that’s so hot, you’re so fucking big. told you i needed an older guy to take care of me.”

his name tumbles from your lips, he sees you in your desperate state. the two of you both feel your climaxes reaching closer, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer if he kept talking to you like that.

“good fucking girl.” his voice was so low and raspy, you couldn’t help but moan.

logan enjoyed the fact he had tony stark’s daughter currently bouncing on his cock, begging for more. it was forbidden, and the thought alone almost made him cum.

“you keep talking to me like that i’m gonna cum,” your voice is desperate and needy, and that turns him on to the max, slowly feeling himself reach the edge. he grunts, jaw clenching, feeling himself go almost animalistic, he grunts through his teeth.

“come on sugar. that’s it. cum on my fucking cock. riding me so fucking good i’m gonna cum myself. want you to moan so loud tony hears you from the floor below and knows his arch nemesis is fucking his daughter. wanna see my cum spill out of this sweet little pussy of yours.”

his words carry you over the edge, as he continues to talk you through it. “that’s it, bub, i’m so fucking close. this pretty little pussy is sucking me in so good, yeah i feel you clenching. dick so good it has you trembling, huh, sugar?” you cum on his cock, legs shaking as you stop bouncing, but logan grabs your hips and drills into you, chasing his own climax.

you feeling extremely overstimulated, you couldn’t control your whimpers and whines and how loud you were. logan finally came with you, mouth falling open as he grunted, moaned, and even almost whimpered.

your eyes scrunch shut, when you finally are able to open them you see logan under you, body glistening in sweat, his eyes closed shut and his head pushed back into the pillows, holding your hips so tight, like if he lets you go you’ll leave.

you smile as you come down from your high, logan quickly following you, his smile growing as his eyes meet yours again.

“that what you meant when you said take care of you?” his cocky words make you smack his bare chest, slowly pulling off him, your cum and his cum slowly spilling out of you, getting both of your attention.

“fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” logan mumbled under his breath.

you almost moaned again, feeling empty as you pull his cock out of your pussy, the cum dripping onto his v-line and abs, making your smile grow.

“yes, this is what i meant. fucked me so good.” you giggled, going to get up but logan flipped you over gently and pushed you down onto the bed.

“lay here, sugar. i’ll clean you up.”

logan grabs a damp, warm rag from the bathroom of his hotel room, bringing it to you and wiping up the cum, once you’re fully clean he tosses it into the hamper across the room. he goes to his bag, grabbing one of his shirts and walking over to you.

he smiles and carefully brings it over your head, finding your tired state adorable.

once you have the shirt on, you lay down in the bed, pulling the covers over you sleepily, as he puts his pajama pants back on, climbing back into bed next to you.

…

the next morning, logan isn’t in bed with you, you check the time and it’s about 10am. your mission didn’t start for another few hours, so you decided to go downstairs and get yourself some of the hotel breakfast.

you slipped on some sleep shorts and slowly walked out of your room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where breakfast was being served.

you walked over to the counter, putting waffle batter into the waffle maker and turning around, trying to find your dad within the many avengers and x-men sat around the mini tables, but when you saw almost everyone staring at you, some with their mouths slightly open, you became confused.

you turned to see your dad, tony, sat at a table with steve, thor and bruce.

tony almost gasped as you turned around and continued making your waffle, not caring how loud he was.

“why the fuck does the last name on the back of you shirt say howlett.” as soon as your dad reveals that information, you avoid turning back around to face him.

logan smiles from his seat, watching as tony slowly turns to look at him at the table near him.

tony’s eye twitches as he looks over at logan. logan unfortunately cant hide his amused expression, almost giggling at the situation, watching as wade walks into the room, also noticing the back of your shirt.

wade jumps up and down, clapping his hands together. “is that logan’s shirt! omg, they finally fucked!”

bruce and thor can’t help but giggle to each other, as steve holds in his laugh.

tony eyes shoot from wade to logan, practically shaking from how mad he was. it was something logan wanted to take a picture of and remember forever.

“you stuck your dick in my fucking daughter!?” tony’s loud, obviously unhappy voice made you slowly turn around, you and logan making eye contact trying not to break into laughter.

“am i the only one furious at this? why the fuck are you all fucking laughing!?” tony shouts, standing up, almost spilling his coffee all over the table.

…

a/n: don’t forget to comment and tell me your thoughts ;)

[second-best-if]

Second Best IF

Demo to come soon

Sibling of the chosen one—the spare. That’s how the people of Aristea whispered your name. Celine, your twin, was blessed by the gods with radiant power and breathtaking beauty, while you, the second born, stood in the shadows. Since the fateful day of the Choosing, when the gods selected your twin and overlooked you, gifting you only the pitiful ability of conversation with beasts, your life has been confinement and disappointment. But now, fate has shifted. Celine has been taken, abducted by monsters during a purification journey. As the kingdom’s finest gather to embark on a discreet rescue mission, a new path unfurls before you: the chance to step into the role of your twin and reclaim your place in a world that has long deemed you unworthy. In Second Best you take control of the spare, controlling their destiny and their path. Will you fight for freedom or stay in your sibling’s shadow?

Second Best is a romance fantasty interactive fiction story with dark elements. This game is made for an 18+ audience and contains potentially triggering and sensitive topics such as swearing, violence, sexual content, injury & more - a full list of warnings will be updated once the demo is released and updated with each new chapter added

Play as the spare and customise them to your tastes

Name

Gender {with male, female and nonbinary options}

Pronouns {choose a preset or create your own}

Appearance {hair colour, eye colour, scars and more}

Personality {make choices that will develop your personality traits and that could change your fate}

Romance one of four potential love interests - with each choice creating a branching path and a new story for you to explore {you will be able to choose the genders of each love interest or randomise them}

Discover the truth behind your twins life and their kidnapping

“I would give my crown and kingdom to keep your heart” | The Royal | Prince/ Princess Wallace Aurelius

Age: 27

Height: 175cm/ 5'9

Build: Average

Eye color: Yellow

Hair color: Black

Character traits: Polite, Kindhearted, Calm, Distant, Lovely, Academic, Repressed

Bio: Heir to the throne of Aristea and Celine’s supposed finance although they never met. Given the moniker 'the kind' - however when you meet they seem polite but distant.

“I will protect you with every fibre of my being, and fight for you until my dying day” | The Knight | Farris Butcher

Age: 26

Height: 195cm/ 6'5

Build: Broad and extremely muscular

Eye color: Blue

Hair color: Ginger

Character traits: Sarcastic, Cold, Duty Bound, Emotional, Romantic

Bio: Childhood friend to the twins and now a head knight of the Royal Order. Farris is assigned to protect you while you pretend to be your twin.

“My soul is bound to yours and I would defy the gods just to keep you close” | The Magician | Leon ???

Age: 28

Height: 170cm/ 5'7

Build: Thin and lanky with long limbs

Eye color: Green

Hair color: Dark Brown

Character traits: Humorous, Witty, Smart, Resourceful, Pragmatic, Flirtatious

Bio: Magician and protector of your house, Leon is a close friend and trusted confidant of your twin, but was asked to stay back to maintain the ruse.

“You are the light in my veins and the shadow that haunts my darkest thoughts” | The Foreign Dignitary | Ludovica/ Ludovico Barboza

Age: 29

Height: 185cm/ 6'0

Build: Well muscled but lean

Eye color: Orange

Hair color: Light Brown

Character traits: Bold, Outgoing, Talented, Scheming, Flirtatious

Bio: A foreign dignitary from a Country neighbouring Aristea, they are here to sign a treaty of trade between the two nations, however they seem to be here with an ulterior motive and flirt with you every time you meet.

[mononijikayu]

boy, i, boy, i, boy, i know i know you got the feels — fushiguro megumi.

“You… want to be with me?” he repeated slowly, like he needed to say it out loud to make sure he understood. “Yes!” you said, more firmly this time. “I like you, Megumi. A lot!” For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. “What..what do you mean by like? Do you mean…like like…..or…” You looked at him confused. “But of course I like you, Megumi. You’re like my best friend!” He lowered his head. “I see.” When Gojo Satoru heard all about that, he laughed so hard he fell off a chair. Fushiguro Tsumiki was worried but Fushiguro Megumi just slapped his arm while he coughed for air.

Genre: Alternate Universe — Canon Convergence;

Warning/s: Romance, Love, Fluff, First Love, Faling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Feelings, Confessions, Anxiety, Self-Esteem, Awkwardness, Teasing, Sibling Relationship, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Humor, Protectiveness, Happy Ending, Teenage Angst, Young Love Is a Pain, Teenagers Going Through It, Sorcerer! Reader, Mild-Tsundere! Megumi, Mild-Tsundere! Reader, Gojo Satoru as a Brother;

Words: 7.8k words.

note: i wrote this maybe twice or thrice. i didn't like multiple drafts, so i kept rewriting. this was supposed to be more and more about the introspection of young people. i don't think i had that sort of phase. mine was pretty different. so i had to look into that feeling, like what would it feel like as a teenager to fall in love like this? anyway, i hope you enjoy this a lot. i love you all!!! <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

IT WAS HARD TO EXIST THE WAY YOU WANTED. You feel like you’ve been like that all your life—too much. It doesn’t help that you were born a Gojo, like your brother. The expectations that came with the name were already heavy, but add that to everything else, and you stood out whether you wanted to or not.

You’ve always been taller—taller than the other girls in your class, taller than most of the boys too. It’s the kind of height that made you stick out awkwardly in photos, your limbs feeling too long, too noticeable, and like they never quite fit where they should.

And just as much, you were too loud. You were the kid who couldn’t sit still, who laughed too hard, and who spoke before thinking. You always had an opinion, a comment, or some joke to crack.

But while some people admired the confidence, others found it overwhelming. You’d hear them whisper about how you didn’t know how to take up less space, how you didn’t know when to stop talking. Even if they didn’t say it out loud, you could feel it—their exhaustion with your presence.

But none of their words mattered—not really. Because you never felt alone. Not when you had your brother. Satoru, with all his power and his cocky grin, had a way of making things lighter, easier. Like nothing in the world could ever bother you as long as he was there.

He always knew how to turn everything into a joke, how to lift the weight of the world off your shoulders like it was nothing. When people teased you for being too much, for being the loud Gojo girl who towered over everyone, he’d shrug it off like it was all beneath him. He never made you feel like you were too much for him.

With Satoru, it didn’t matter if you were awkward, clumsy, or too tall. He’d laugh with you, poke fun at your height like it was something to be proud of. And when people couldn’t handle you, when they stepped back because your energy was just a little too wild for them, Satoru was always there. He made you feel like the world was yours to take, that being "too much" was just another way of being more than enough.

Gojo Satoru was larger than life. He was the type who filled a room with his presence, never shy, never hesitant, always overflowing with energy. You followed in his wake, figuring that you’d grow up just like him—bold, confident, and, if you were lucky, a little ridiculous too.

People gravitated toward your brother, and you always figured they’d do the same with you, that you’d never feel small because you’d learned from the best how to be big, even if it wasn’t in the way you looked.

But of course, he had his own life too. And he was older than you. He had duties and dreams and hopes that he was going to chase after. Slowly but surely, you realized that your brother was not always going to be in your life.

You realized that he was going to live a life beyond you. He has to. And in the mind of a little girl, that had triggered some things. And you were inconsolable. You had never felt more distraught in your life.

“What are you even crying about?”

You had looked up, with your tear ridden blue eyes.

Blue–green gleams burned against your own orbs.

Then, there was Fushiguro Megumi.

Satoru had introduced you to him when you were both kids. It was a warm summer afternoon, and you remembered standing beside your brother, peeking curiously at the quiet boy who looked so out of place at your energetic, whirlwind of a home. 

“This is Megumi, little sis.” Satoru had said, patting the boy’s head with a wide grin. “He’s going to stay with us for a while with his sister. Take care of him, okay?”

You remembered Megumi’s solemn face, those intense, dark eyes peering up at you with a mix of wariness and confusion. Something about him stuck with you right away. He wasn’t like Satoru at all.

Where your brother was loud, brash, and always moving like a force of nature, Megumi was quiet, reserved, and even a little distant. But in that stillness, there was a calm that made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t expected. His presence was grounding, like he didn’t need to be loud to make an impact. The more time you spent around him, the more drawn in you became.

Even as a kid, you knew there was something special about him, something that made your heart skip in a way that confused you at first. He didn’t chase after attention like others did. He seemed comfortable being on the sidelines, watching quietly as if the chaos around him couldn’t reach him. And somehow, that pulled you in even more.

You’d find yourself watching him—whether it was during meals when he’d quietly pick at his food while Satoru jabbered on about nonsense, or when he’d curl up in a corner of the house, reading a book that looked too difficult for his age. You admired how steady he was, how he always seemed so unaffected by the noise and chaos that surrounded him.

One time, you even tried to mimic that calmness. You’d sat beside him in the living room, crossing your legs and folding your hands neatly in your lap, glancing over at him to see if he noticed. Megumi had looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow slightly. 

“What… are you doing?”

“Trying to be calm.” you’d announced proudly, puffing your chest out a little. “Like you.”

He blinked at you, his serious expression almost comically puzzled. “Why?”

“Because you’re… cool!” you’d blurted out, cheeks heating up. “You’re, um, like a cat. Quiet and… mysterious.” Even back then, you were terrible at explaining yourself, but the words just tumbled out in your eagerness to be understood.

Megumi’s lips twitched, and you’d swear you saw the faintest hint of a smile. “A cat?” he echoed, looking almost amused.

“Yeah!” you’d nodded enthusiastically. “Cats don’t need to be loud or run around to be interesting. They just… are. Like you.”

He’d stared at you for a moment, then ducked his head, ears turning pink. “That’s… a weird thing to say.”

You’d deflated a little, afraid you’d embarrassed yourself, but then Megumi had quietly shifted a bit closer, still looking down at his book. “But… thanks.” he’d mumbled, voice barely above a whisper. “I guess.”

That small, almost shy acknowledgment had made your heart swell with a warmth you didn’t quite understand. From then on, you found yourself seeking out his company more and more, content to sit beside him even if neither of you spoke much. Back then, it was simple. You just wanted to be near him, to be a part of that quiet space he seemed to create around himself.

But it wasn’t long before that simple admiration started to turn into something more. You’d catch yourself staring at him a little longer, noticing things like the way his eyes softened when he looked at you or how his hair would fall just a bit over his forehead, making you want to brush it away. Whenever Satoru teased him and made him blush, you felt an inexplicable urge to do something, anything, to make him smile instead.

Years later, that feeling only grew stronger, until it became impossible to ignore. And now, standing under the sakura trees, feeling like your heart might burst out of your chest, you finally realized why. Megumi had always been special to you, in a way no one else ever could be. And the thought of telling him that was terrifying—but also, thrilling.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Hey, Megumi,” you called out softly, stepping closer to where he stood. He glanced up, surprised by the sound of your voice cutting through the silence. “Do you remember when I said you’re like a cat?”

Megumi frowned slightly, as if trying to recall, then gave a hesitant nod. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“Well…” You bit your lip, fighting the urge to look away. “I still think that. But I also think… you’re more than just that.”

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’re…” You took a deep breath, the words coming out in a rush. “You’re everything I’ve always wanted, Megumi. You’re kind, and you make me feel safe. And… and I want to be with you. Always.”

The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Megumi just stared at you, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You… want to be with me?” he repeated slowly, like he needed to say it out loud to make sure he understood.

“Yes!” you said, more firmly this time. “I like you, Megumi. A lot!”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. “What..what do you mean by like? Do you mean…like like…..or…”

You looked at him confused. “But of course I like you, Megumi. You’re like my best friend!”

He lowered his head. “I see.”

When Gojo Satoru heard all about that, he laughed so hard he fell off a chair. Fushiguro Tsumiki was worried but Fushiguro Megumi just slapped his arm while he coughed for air.

But as you grew older, those feelings started to change, become more complex, more uncertain. It wasn’t just a childhood crush anymore; it was something deeper. You found yourself thinking about Megumi in ways that left you feeling vulnerable, like there was a part of you that would always be reaching out to him, even if you weren’t sure he’d reach back.

It hits you suddenly;like lightning straight to your heart. You’re sitting on the couch with Megumi and your brother Satoru, casually chatting about nothing in particular, but every time Megumi glances your way, something flips inside you. It’s ridiculous, really, how just the smallest brush of his fingers against yours sends you spiraling.

You try to stay composed, but your mind is racing, wondering if he feels it too. Does his heart skip when your knees touch? Is he trying to steal glances at you the way you do when he’s not looking? Your thoughts swirl—Catching feels like butterflies—and it’s getting harder to focus on the conversation.

Satoru notices immediately, of course. The knowing smirk on his face is impossible to miss.

"Hey, you good?" he asks, voice laced with amusement. "You're looking kinda flushed. Maybe it's the heat—oh wait, maybe it's just Cupid."

You shoot him a glare, but the grin on his face only widens.

"Shut up." you mutter, crossing your arms, though the heat in your cheeks betrays you. “Focus on everything else except me.”

He leans in closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Ooooh, are you catching feels?" He snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "This is too good! I thought you were just spacing out, but nope, you're totally—boom-boom-boom from head to toe."

Megumi glances over, raising an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Before you can even attempt to answer, Satoru’s all over it, teasing mercilessly. "Oh, nothing! Just my dearest sister here having a bit of a heart-fluttering moment. But don’t worry, Megumi, she’s just having a moment. But boy, I know, boy I know, my sis has the feels!"

You want to disappear right then and there. Of course, Satoru would turn this into a full-blown spectacle. You manage to meet Megumi’s gaze, and to your surprise, there’s a slight flush on his cheeks too.

"Ignore him, okay?" Megumi says, voice calm but softer than usual. He smiles at you, for a moment. You could feel yourself getting hot. He was pretty when he smiled. Oh my god. “He’s just…annoying again.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Spoken like a child.”

It gives you a little hope, just enough to make you wonder if maybe—just maybe—his heart beats the same way.

But before you can dwell on that, Satoru’s voice cuts through the moment, "You’re both hopeless! Just admit it already. This is too entertaining."

You groan, burying your face in your hands, but there’s no denying it anymore. You’ve got all the feels, and Satoru isn’t about to let you forget it. “Shut up!”

��No!” He snickers back at you, tongue out. 

“I’m telling mom about this!”

“Hey, don’t! Mom’s gonna yell at me!”

The doubt crept in slowly at first. You couldn’t help but notice how different you were from the girls Megumi seemed to glance at from time to time—small, delicate girls, the kind that looked like they belonged in some romantic movie. Girls who were easy to hold, easy to protect. Girls who fit perfectly into that image of what you thought a guy like Megumi might want.

It’s not like you’d caught him staring or anything, but you’d seen the way his eyes lingered on them, just for a second longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, but you noticed—of course, you noticed. And once you did, it was like a seed of doubt planted itself in your mind, growing roots and spreading.

You’re not like that. Not even close.

You’re too loud. Always have been. The kind of loudness that people notice before you even say a word. The one who laughs too hard at jokes, talks over people without meaning to, and fills every silence with something because you hate the quiet. Megumi, though? He thrives in the quiet. His calm, composed presence is so opposite to your own chaotic energy that it feels like a constant reminder of how you could never be his type.

And then there’s the height thing. You’re not sure why it bothers you so much, but it does. You’ve caught yourself slouching a little around him, trying to shrink yourself because standing next to Megumi, you feel like you’re towering over him. You feel awkward, too tall, like you’re out of place in his world of composed strength.

It’s silly, right? He’s not short, not by any means, but standing next to him? It feels like you take up too much space, like you’re the hurricane and he’s the calm in the storm. How could someone like that ever be into someone like you?

And it’s not just your height. It’s everything. You’re messy, clumsy, always blurting out what’s on your mind without thinking. Megumi’s quiet, reserved, the kind of guy who takes his time to process things, to consider every angle. Meanwhile, you’re tripping over your words, interrupting without meaning to, and trying way too hard to fill the silence when you know you should probably just shut up.

You groan inwardly, sinking further into the couch as Satoru continues to tease you, his voice still echoing in your head. "You’re totally catching feels, sis." he had said, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. And maybe to him, it is. But to you? It’s terrifying.

Because you know—you know—that you’re not the kind of person Megumi would go for. You’re not the small, delicate girl who looks like she stepped out of a dream. You’re loud, too tall, too much. And even if Megumi’s too polite to say anything, you can’t help but think that deep down, he’s got to notice it too.

Maybe that’s why you’ve been trying to ignore these feelings. They don’t make sense. How could they? You’re so different, and not in a way that balances out. More like in a way that makes you wonder what you’re even doing here, sitting next to him, pretending like you belong.

You risk a glance at Megumi. He’s focused on the TV, his usual thoughtful expression in place. He’s probably not even thinking about you, not the way you’re obsessing over every little detail. And why would he?

Guys like him don’t go for girls like you.

One evening, you found yourself sprawled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn balancing precariously on your stomach as you stared at the ceiling, sighing dramatically for the tenth time in five minutes.

Satoru, who was sitting at the dining table messing with his phone, finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. “Alright, what’s the deal? You’ve been sighing like you’re auditioning for a soap opera. You’ve been out of it for a while.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a small laugh. “It’s nothing. It’s just… falling in love is so hard.”

Satoru’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh? Now we’re talking about love, huh?” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows like he was about to drop some great wisdom. “Who’s the unlucky guy? Is it Hibari Kyoya this time? Or….well…Jeon Jungkook?”

You groaned and buried your face in the couch pillow. “It’s not about one guy! It’s the whole process. It’s exhausting. Why can’t it just be easy?”

Satoru walked over and plopped down beside you, stealing a handful of your popcorn. “Easy? Love is supposed to be fun. I’m fun, and I’m great at love. What are you doing wrong? Tell big brother, little sis.”

You shot him a death glare, which only made him chuckle. “You make everything sound like a competition. I can’t exactly just… Gojo Satoru my way through love.”

“I mean, you could.” he said, popping a kernel into his mouth. “Have you tried being as charming as me?”

“Oh, please. I am charming!” you said, sitting up and throwing a piece of popcorn at him. “It’s just… ugh, you know what I mean. It’s like every time I like someone, they’re all obsessed with those cute, tiny, delicate girls. And then there’s me.” You gestured at your tall frame with both hands, adding a dramatic flair. “Loud, unignorable, tall-as-a-tree me. Freak of nature, if you will!”

Satoru snorted. “You make it sound like you’re a giraffe or something. And please, you’re hardly a freak of nature. I’m tall and petite all the same.”

“Sometimes it feels like it!” you huffed, crossing your arms. “Do you know how hard it is to casually lean on someone when they’re two heads shorter than you? I could break them!”

“Good point.” Satoru said with mock seriousness. “Being tall and fabulous is clearly a burden.”

You shot him a look. “Don’t patronize me, you’re not helping.”

Satoru laughed and patted your head like you were a puppy. “Come on, what’s wrong with being tall? It’s your thing. Own it. Besides, nothing you can do about Gojo genes. We are tall.”

You sighed again, this time more dramatically. “It’s not just the height, Satoru-nii. It’s everything! The girls guys like are all quiet and soft, and I’m like… a walking megaphone with legs for days.”

Satoru smirked. “First of all, you’re not a megaphone. Maybe a karaoke machine, at worst.”

You threw a cushion at him, but he ducked easily, still grinning. “And second of all,” he continued, “you’re focusing on the wrong stuff. Guys don’t just like small, quiet girls. That’s a myth. Trust me, you just need to find the guy who appreciates that you could easily dunk on him in basketball.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that image. “Oh yeah, super romantic. ‘Hey, babe, let me dunk on you real quick.’”

“Exactly!” Satoru said with a wink. “You’ve got to use what makes you awesome, not hide it. I mean, look at Meg—” He cut himself off, eyes twinkling mischievously. “You know, I thought I was gonna set it aside, maybe you’re too logical about things but….”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you instantly went into defense mode. “W–what about Megumi?”

“Nothing, nothing!” he said, holding up his hands innocently. “Just saying, he’s quiet, and you’re loud. Could be a good balance. You never know…”

You blushed furiously, tossing the rest of your popcorn at him. “Satoru-nii! He’s your student! I can’t just and someone under your care—ugh!”

Satoru laughed like this was the most entertaining thing he’d heard all week. “Hey, all I’m saying is, maybe you’re thinking about this whole ‘falling in love’ thing too hard. Maybe you’re already in love and just don’t know what to do about it. Or maybe….you just don’t want to talk about it, per se.”

You glared at him, but he kept going, grinning like a cat who had caught a mouse. “Besides, if Megumi ever needs someone to keep him grounded, who better than you? You’d definitely shake up his boring, quiet life. He likes color too, you know. He’s just…more somber about it. You know how he is!”

You groaned and flopped back down on the couch, hiding your face again. “I don’t even know if he likes me, okay? He’s probably never looked at me that way before or ever, and I’m just… me. What if he thinks I’m annoying?”

Satoru rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please. Everyone thinks you’re annoying, and they still like you.” He dodged another pillow you threw at him and continued, “Besides, Megumi doesn’t hang out with people unless he likes them. Have you ever seen him willingly spend time with anyone else besides me? Or Kugisaki or Itadori?”

You blinked. That was a good point. Megumi did spend a lot of time with you—more than with most other people. But still…

“You think so?” you mumbled, feeling a glimmer of hope creep in.

Satoru gave you a soft smile—an unusually sincere expression for him. “Yeah, I do. And even if he’s not into it right now, anyone who can’t appreciate you for who you are is an idiot. You’re a catch, even if you do throw pillows like a five-year-old.”

You snorted, wiping at your eyes. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Anytime, little sis!” Satoru said, leaning back and tossing another piece of popcorn into his mouth. “Now, if you’re done complaining, let’s figure out how you can subtly drop-kick your way into Megumi’s heart.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. “I’m not drop-kicking him.”

“Too bad. It would’ve been fun to watch.”

“You’re so annoying, I hate you.”

He grinned. “No you don’t!”

HE WISHED HE WASN’T SUCH A KLUTZ ABOUT THIS. Fushiguro Megumi sat there, staring at his phone screen, his thumb hovering over the “send” button like it was some kind of bomb he wasn’t ready to detonate.

He had typed the message about ten times, erased it nine, and now, here he was, sweating over the tenth. All he needed to do was press send. That’s it. Just one tap, and he’d finally take a step toward telling you how he really felt.

But, as usual, his mind spiraled with doubts.

What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if this ruins everything? What if she’s just being nice to me because of Satoru?

He groaned, running a hand over his face. Why was this so hard? He could face curses, fight dangerous opponents, and handle life-or-death situations without batting an eye. But when it came to you, his brain turned into a tangled mess of uncertainty.

His internal crisis was interrupted by a loud knock on his door.

“Fuuuuuuushiiiiiiiguuuuuuuuroooooo! You in there?” Yuji’s voice rang out cheerfully. Before Megumi could even respond, the door swung open, and Yuji and Nobara barged in, grinning like they had just walked in on something juicy.

“Wha—what are you two doing here?” Megumi stammered, quickly locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket, hoping they hadn’t seen anything.

“Whatcha hiding?” Nobara asked immediately, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. She crossed her arms and gave him a look like she was about to crack a case wide open.

“Nothing.” Megumi said too quickly, which only made Yuji and Nobara more curious.

Yuji flopped onto the bed, making himself at home. “Come on, Fushiguro! You look like you were about to do something important.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Something to do with a girl maybe?”

Megumi felt the tips of his ears go red. “What? No! It’s nothing.”

“Oh my god, he’s blushing!” Nobara exclaimed, smirking like a cat who’d caught a mouse. She nudged Yuji. “You know what that means.”

Yuji nodded sagely. “Yup. It’s definitely about a girl.”

Nobara laughs. “Oh, but not just any girl! You know….Gojo–sensei’s sister?”

“Wait!” Yuji’s eyes widened as Megumi looked away, the blush turning even more bright. “Fushiguro? Gojo–sensei’s sister!?”

Megumi groaned, feeling his face heat up even more. He could never hide anything from these two. It was like they had some kind of embarrassing moment radar. “No, it’s not! Leave it alone already!”

“Aha……” Nobara’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “It’s about Gojo Satoru’s sister, isn’t it? You’re so obvious about this!”

Megumi nearly choked on air. “Wha—no! I mean……” He trailed off, realizing that he was only digging himself deeper into a hole. “It’s not…It’s not what you think it is!”

“Oh my god, it is!” Nobara practically squealed. “You like her, don’t you?”

Yuji was grinning from ear to ear now, thoroughly enjoying Megumi’s suffering. “I knew it! You’re always all flustered around her.”

“I am not flustered. I am not….” Megumi muttered, looking away, which only made him look more flustered. “This is too much from you two!”

“Dude, you are so flustered, right now!” Yuji said, laughing. “It’s okay! You should just tell her how you feel.”

Megumi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?” Nobara asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You’re both into each other. I mean, she practically looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. What’s the problem?”

Megumi blinked, caught off guard. “She… does?”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Duh. How are you this dense? It’s so obvious! She’s always laughing at your jokes, even when they’re not funny.”

“Hey!” Megumi protested weakly.

“And she’s always finding excuses to be around you,” Yuji added. “Plus, the way she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching? Come on, man, she’s into you.”

Megumi felt a flicker of hope, but his doubts crept back in. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I ruin things between us?”

Yuji and Nobara exchanged a look before turning back to him.

“Yo, Fushiguro!” Yuji said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You can’t spend your whole life worrying about what ifs. Just tell her. Worst case, things get a little awkward, but knowing her, she won’t let that happen.”

Nobara nodded. “And honestly, with how close you two already are, I’d bet money that she’s waiting for you to make the first move.”

Megumi let their words sink in, the knot of anxiety in his chest loosening just a little. Maybe they were right. Maybe he was overthinking everything. After all, you’d been dropping hints for a while now, hadn’t you? The lingering glances, the way you always seemed to gravitate toward him in a room full of people…

He pulled his phone back out, staring at the unsent message again.

Yuji peeked over his shoulder. “Ooh, you were gonna text her? What’re you waiting for? Send it!”

Nobara nodded eagerly. “Do it, do it, do it!”

With a deep breath, Megumi finally pressed send.

“Hey. Are you free tomorrow? Let’s talk.”

He tossed his phone onto the bed and slumped back against the wall, exhaling like he’d just run a marathon.

Nobara grinned triumphantly. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“Yeah.” Megumi muttered, though his heart was still racing. Now all he had to do was wait for your reply.

Yuji and Nobara, clearly pleased with themselves, exchanged a high-five. “Mission accomplished!” Yuji declared, grinning.

Megumi rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

The moment Megumi pressed send, his stomach dropped. What had he just done? Now there was no going back. He couldn’t unsend the message, couldn’t take back the quiet confession it represented. All he could do was wait for your response.

Yuji and Nobara were still grinning like a pair of mischievous siblings who had just successfully pulled off a prank. Megumi, on the other hand, was wondering if he should just bury himself in his bed and never come out.

“So….....” Yuji leaned in, his eyes wide with excitement. “What now? You think she’s gonna reply right away? Maybe she’s been waiting for this all along!”

Nobara snickered. “I bet she’s freaking out right now, staring at her phone like, ‘Oh my god, THE Fushiguro Megumi finally texted me to talk. What do I do?!’” She mimicked a dramatic swoon, nearly falling off the chair, which only made Yuji burst out laughing.

“Would you two stop?” Megumi groaned, pulling a pillow over his face in an attempt to block out their teasing. His ears were still burning, and the last thing he needed was them making it worse.

“Come on, man! This is exciting!” Yuji said, playfully tugging the pillow away. “You’ve probably  been into her for ages! Didn’t you guys meet as kids? And now you’re finally doing something about it! You should be happy!”

Megumi peeked out from behind the pillow, his expression somewhere between annoyance and anxiety. “Yeah, or I could be about to make the most embarrassing mistake of my life.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Ugh, seriously? You’re not gonna make a mistake, Megumi. Trust me. That girl is totally into you.”

“Yeah. Pretty obvious to us.” Yuji added, “if you could see how she looks at you, you wouldn’t be worrying about this.”

Megumi hesitated, feeling a small flicker of hope again. Could it really be true? Did you look at him the same way he looked at you? He was usually pretty good at reading people, but when it came to you, his emotions seemed to get in the way, clouding his judgment.

His phone buzzed, and all three of them froze.

Yuji’s eyes widened. “That’s her, isn’t it?!”

Nobara practically lunged for the phone. “Open it, open it, open it!”

Megumi’s heart skipped a beat as he grabbed the phone, hands suddenly shaky. He unlocked it, and there it was—your reply.

Hey, yeah, I’m free tomorrow. What’s up?

It was simple, nothing out of the ordinary, but to Megumi, it felt like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders. You didn’t sound nervous or weirded out. You just… replied. As if this was the most normal thing in the world.

He exhaled, not realizing he had been holding his breath.

“Well? What’d she say?” Nobara leaned in, practically on the edge of her seat.

“She said she’s free.” Megumi muttered, trying to sound casual, but the small smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

“Oh, look at him!” Yuji teased, nudging Megumi with his elbow. “He’s smiling! Megumi, man, you’re whipped.”

Megumi shot him a look. “I’m not whipped.”

“Yeah, you are.” Nobara said with a smirk. “And honestly? It’s kinda cute. I never thought I’d see the day when you, of all people, would get all flustered over a girl.”

Megumi rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Can you two go now?”

“Fine, fine.” Nobara stood up, stretching her arms above her head. “But remember, if you mess this up, we’re totally going to say, ‘I told you so.’”

Yuji chuckled, giving Megumi a thumbs-up as they headed for the door. “Good luck, lover boy.”

“Don’t call me that.” Megumi grumbled, but there was no real bite to his words. He was too relieved, too nervous, and, if he was honest with himself, a little excited.

As the door closed behind them, Megumi sat back down on the bed, staring at your message. His heart was still racing, but this time, it wasn’t just from nerves. There was something else—hope. Maybe, just maybe, this would turn out okay.

He typed out a quick response.

Cool. Let’s meet after training? I want to talk.

And with that, he tossed the phone onto the bed again, burying his face in his hands.

What am I even going to say? He had no idea, but tomorrow was coming whether he was ready or not.

Little did he know, you were sitting in your room, staring at your own phone, your heart racing just as fast.

AND SO IT HAPPENED. It was a crisp, sunny afternoon when you found yourself standing under the canopy of sakura trees, the pale pink petals drifting lazily to the ground. Everything about the moment was making you feel queasy, like your stomach was doing flips. Why was this making you feel so sick? Why was your heart pounding like this? You could still feel the heat from your nervous sweat, which only made it worse. How is feeling so much love making you feel like you were going to die? You hated this. You really hated this. 

Your elder brother, Satoru, had this knack for making every situation simultaneously better and worse. Walking beside you, he was grinning like he knew something you didn’t, that classic, cocky smirk plastered across his face.

“Good luck, little sis!” he teased, ruffling your hair like you were a kid. “I’m sure Megumi’s gonna love whatever awkward thing you’re about to say.”

You shot him a glare, your nerves bubbling up with his every word. “You’re not helping.”

“Who said I was trying to help?” He winked, clearly enjoying your suffering. You glared at him. “I’m just here for moral support... and to watch you squirm.”

“Thanks.” you muttered, the sarcasm dripping from your voice.

Satoru laughed, clapping you on the back. “Come on, it’s Megumi. He’s practically family. What’s the worst that could happen? He rejects you? Nah, you’ll be fine.”

you wished your brother didn’t have Infinity, just so you could land a good punch on him. Now, standing there, nerves making you feel like backing out entirely, you glanced at him one more time.

To your surprise, his teasing smirk faded, replaced with concern. "Hey, hey, don’t cry!" He waved his hands in front of you frantically. "I was joking! I didn’t mean to make you upset."

"It wasn’t funny!" you snapped, blinking rapidly as the threat of tears welled up. Why did he always have to push your buttons?

Satoru looked genuinely worried for a second, which was rare. "Okay, okay, listen..." His tone softened, a little less of that cocky edge. "If Megumi doesn’t like you back, that’s okay. There’s plenty of people who will love you better, alright? Genuinely."

You sniffed, still feeling that tight knot of anxiety in your chest. "Yeah, right."

"I mean it," he insisted, stepping closer and placing a hand on your shoulder. “Your good ol' big brother is one of them, okay? You’ll always be loved, doll. You’ve got me, forever. No one’s ever gonna change that.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes but feeling a bit better, even if his logic was as goofy as always. "Still doesn’t make this any less terrifying, you know."

Satoru chuckled, ruffling your hair again. "Well, if all else fails, you can come hide behind me. Infinity’s good for that too, you know!"

By the time he finally left you alone, after throwing in one last, “Don’t mess it up, though!” you were already sweating. Actually sweating. Harder than ever before.

"Great. Just great." you grumbled to yourself, imagining all the possible ways this could go wrong. “Love sucks! This sucks!”

But sooner or later, you knew you would have to face it. And so you waited for Megumi. You waited patiently as you created stupid little scenarios in your head — things that shouldn’t even be. 

And after about fifteen minutes, here you were, facing Fushiguro Megumi, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it. He stood a few feet away, hands buried deep in his pockets, staring intently at the ground as though it held the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.

Is he nervous too? you wondered. Somehow, that thought gave you the slightest sense of relief, but only for a fleeting moment. The truth was, you hadn’t been able to focus on anything since this morning, and now that you were actually standing in front of him, the anxiety was threatening to spill over.

Megumi’s hair, slightly ruffled by the breeze, caught your attention. His gaze remained fixed downward, his usual calm, almost brooding expression in place, but something about the way his shoulders were tense told you he wasn’t as composed as he seemed.

"I…" You started, your voice catching in your throat. Great, now you are losing your nerve.

Megumi’s eyes flickered toward you, his expression unreadable but curious. He waited, his silence urging you to continue, even though the words seemed to have tangled themselves up inside your head.

You tried again, taking a small breath, "I don’t really know how to say this without sounding like an idiot."

He shifted slightly, his eyes finally lifting to meet yours. “You’re not an idiot.” he said softly, though the hint of amusement in his voice wasn’t lost on you. “You aren’t one. Never…never have been.”

He looked… nervous? Which made you feel a little better, since you were pretty sure you’d forgotten how to breathe about five minutes ago.

Alright, you thought, trying to psych yourself up. You’re just going to confess. It’s simple. People do it all the time! You can do this. It’s Megumi—your Megumi.

Except now that you were actually standing in front of him, your brain decided to throw you a curveball. What if… what if he doesn’t like tall, petite girls?

You winced at the thought. Megumi was tall and handsome, and here you were, small, like a walking marshmallow. What if he preferred someone else, someone who needs his help? Does he like girls who seem to be more dependent on him? What if he liked girls with long, model-like legs? Wait, I don’t have those sort of legs! I have an athlete’s legs, but thinner! Oh my god…I, am I his type? Or worse, what if you were just a friend to him?

Before you knew it, words were tumbling out of your mouth.

“Um… Megumi?” you started, your voice way too high-pitched to sound cool. “There’s something I need to say.”

Megumi glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly in that focused way he had. Your face felt like it was on fire. “Yeah?” he said, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.

You hesitated, suddenly regretting every decision you’d made that day. But you couldn’t back out now. You were already knee-deep in awkwardness.

“I know I’m, like… not like all the other girls or anything. Not to mention, I'm loud and awkward and just....” You winced as you said it. You feel your cheeks getting redder by the second. “And maybe… maybe you like taller girls or maybe more chic girls? Like, you know, girls with long model legs who look good in anything. Or at least girls who don’t have to deal with….you know, I….I don’t know. But I just….”

Megumi blinked at you, his eyes widening slightly as the words sunk in. For a moment, you thought you’d really messed up—like he might just walk away or start laughing. But then, something unexpected happened.

His face turned an alarming shade of red, and he blurted, “W-What? No! That’s not— I don’t care about any of that!” His voice cracked slightly, and you could tell he was flustered. Megumi. Flustered. Your heart did a weird little flip at that.

“I like you… exactly how you are. I don’t care if you have…if you have athlete legs and not model legs.” he said, quieter this time, as if saying it any louder would somehow make it harder for him. His eyes darted to the side, but you could see the sincerity there. “I… don’t care if you’re short or tall or… whatever.” His blush deepened as he added, “You’re… perfect.”

It took a second for your brain to catch up to what he was saying. Wait—he thought you were perfect? Did you… did you hear that right?

You opened your mouth, but all you managed was a strangled, “Oh.” Which was, you know, super eloquent. Good job, me.

Megumi shifted on his feet, still avoiding your gaze. “I thought…” he started, his voice so low you almost didn’t catch it, “that you didn’t like me because I’m… well, you know.” He made a vague gesture with his hand.

You stared at him, confused. “Because you’re… what?”

His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, like he really didn’t want to explain, but felt like he had to. “Because I’m… brooding. I’m not…I know I’m not the most fun of people to be around. And I just….I know it’s also hard to talk to me. And I'm way too quiet, I don't talk for hours sometimes.” he muttered. He cleared his throat and added. “I’m not exactly the most… open or easygoing person. I figured you’d probably want someone who’s more… fun.”

You blinked. “Fun? Megumi, you think I don’t like you because you’re… broody?”

He shrugged, still looking like he wanted to disappear into the nearest bush. “I mean… yeah.”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Megumi’s eyes snapped back to you, looking completely baffled, as if he hadn’t expected that reaction at all.

“No way!” you said, still giggling as you wiped a tear from your eye. “That’s one of the things I like about you!”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Wait… what?”

“You’re serious and quiet!” you explained, your heart softening as you looked at him. “But you’re also kind. And you care so much about everyone, even if you don’t show it the way other people do. I think it’s…” you swallowed, suddenly shy again, “...really cute, actually.”

Megumi’s expression softened in a way that made your chest ache. He looked like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing but was too relieved to question it. "Oh."

"Yeah...."

“So… you like me?” he asked, his voice a little hesitant, like he was afraid the answer might change if he said it out loud.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “Yeah… I do.”

There was a beat of silence where neither of you moved, both too flustered to figure out what came next. The sakura petals continued to fall around you, and for a moment, it felt like you were in a scene straight out of a cheesy romance.

“And you… like me?” you ventured, your heart thumping hard.

Megumi looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, but you could see the tiniest smile playing on his lips. “Yeah.” he muttered. “A lot.”

You stood there for a while, both of you blushing like tomatoes, staring at anything but each other. But somehow, despite the awkwardness, it felt perfect—like you’d finally figured out what had been right in front of you all along.

“Maybe we should, um… go get something to eat?” you suggested, trying to break the tension before you spontaneously combusted from embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Megumi agreed, a little too quickly. “Food. Good idea.”

You started walking, side by side, still too nervous to hold hands or do anything couple-like, but grinning like idiots who’d finally realized how much you liked each other. You'll be okay, together.

epilogue

The café near Jujutsu High was cozy, with soft lighting and the faint hum of conversations from other patrons filling the space. Megumi and I sat across from each other, still awkward but smiling. The post-confession giddiness hadn’t worn off, and every now and then, our eyes would meet, followed by a quick blush and looking away.

I nervously poked at my dessert with my fork, stealing glances at Megumi, who was doing a pretty good job pretending to focus on his coffee. I should say something, I thought, but before I could open my mouth, a loud, familiar voice shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

"Well, well, well! What do we have here? My adorable little sister and Fushiguro Megumi! On a date! How cute!"

I whipped my head around, and there he was—Gojo Satoru, in all his obnoxiously tall, grinning glory, standing at the entrance of the café like he owned the place. His trademark sunglasses were perched on his nose, and he had his phone in hand, ready for whatever chaos he was about to unleash.

Megumi groaned and slouched down in his seat, his face flushing a deep shade of red. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, just taking a casual stroll around campus when I happened to spot you two. And, being the fantastic older brother I am, I couldn’t resist stopping by to see what’s going on."

I sighed, knowing full well this was about to get much worse. "Satoru-nii…please don’t."

But Gojo Satoru was already snapping pictures of us with his phone, zooming in obnoxiously on both of our embarrassed faces. “Oh, these are perfect. You both look so adorable! I can’t wait to send these to Yuji, Nobara, and the rest of the gang.”

Megumi’s hand shot up in protest. “Stop—”

Too late. Gojo Satoru’s fingers flew over his phone screen as he quickly shared the photos. I could already imagine the messages popping up in the group chat: Yuji losing his mind with excitement, Nobara teasing Megumi, and the second and third years chiming in with their own commentary.

“Satoru-nii!” I whisper-shouted, trying to keep my voice low enough not to draw the attention of the other café-goers. “You promised no embarrassing photos!”

Gojo just grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “Hey, you didn’t say anything about dates. Besides, this is for posterity. Your first date with the brooding Megumi! Awww, it’s like watching a baby deer trying to walk for the first time. My future brother in law and my sister’s first date! Oh this will be cute in the wedding powerpoint!”

Megumi looked like he wanted to crawl under the table, and honestly, I wasn’t too far behind. I glanced at him, feeling bad for dragging him into this chaos. “Gojo–sensei, we aren’t….That’s not—”

“Say cheese!”

But then, something unexpected happened. Maybe it was Gojo’s teasing, or maybe it was just the ridiculousness of the whole situation, but I felt a sudden surge of boldness. I scooted my chair a little closer to Megumi, leaned into him slightly, and—just to spite Satoru—rested my head on his shoulder.

Megumi stiffened at first, his body going rigid in surprise, but after a second, I felt him relax. He glanced down at me, and despite his still-flushed cheeks, there was a soft smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t say anything, but the way he subtly leaned into me in return spoke volumes.

Gojo, of course, gasped dramatically. “Ohhhh! Look at you two! All cozy now! This is too precious, I’m dying.”

“You’re gonna be dying for real if you don’t stop.” Megumi muttered, though he didn’t sound as angry as he usually did. He seemed…happy, even if he wouldn’t admit it. And honestly, that made me smile too.

Gojo, ever the drama queen, pretended to clutch his heart. “My little Megumi, all grown up and in love! My precious little sister, grown and down bad! This is truly a day to remember.” He took another picture, but at this point, I didn’t care. Neither did Megumi.

After what felt like an eternity of Gojo’s teasing, he finally waved us off with a laugh. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. But don’t think I’m letting this go anytime soon! I expect wedding invites, you hear me?”

He sauntered out of the café, phone still in hand, leaving us in peace once again.

I let out a long sigh of relief, finally able to relax. “I’m sorry about him. He’s… well, he’s Satoru.”

Megumi shook his head, still leaning into me a little. “It’s fine. I’m used to it by now.”

We sat there quietly for a moment, neither of us moving. Despite the embarrassment, I felt a sense of warmth spreading through my chest. Leaning into Megumi, feeling the weight of his shoulder against mine, it was nice. Comforting.

I looked up at him and saw that soft smile again. He wasn’t embarrassed anymore—he looked…content. Maybe even a little happy.

“You know.......” I said, my voice quiet, smiling. “I think this might be the best date ever.”

Megumi glanced down at me, and for the first time that day, he chuckled softly. “Yeah… I think so too.”

[missglaskin]

Yandere Aegon's Conquest (platonic) headcanons

AKA Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys as your yan!parents + Aenys and Maegor as your yan!Brothers

Characters: Aegon the conqueror, Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Maegor & Aenys Targaryen, Orys Baratheon

Note: Adopted and female!reader, toxic relationships, some interpreted romance/incest, Fire and Blood spoilers

You may have joined the Targaryen family through any of them. Brought to King's Landing as an offer, a hostage from Dorne. Whatever the reason was, you have now become the obsession of three dragon riders.

Naturally, there was some opposition at first. It's enough to keep a whole kingdom together; with lords either bending the knee willingly or by force, having the faith tolerate their marriages, and now they bring a child into the fold who didn't seem to bear much resemblance.

Yet despite widespread opposition, there was utter silence when it became evident what would happen if someone were to comment on your legitimacy. It's frightening to face Aegon's wrath, but he and his sisters combined; downright terrifying. 

They tended to differentiate when it came to ways of parenting. You would have likely been overindulged if it weren't for Visenya, who adopted a stricter role in place of Rhaenys and Aegon. On the other hand, it's Aegon who adopts the role of the meditator, keeping the peace whenever his wives come to disputes.

Orys is the only one Aegon truly trusts along with his sisters and despite Rhaenys and Visenya sharing Aegon's trust, they're not exactly thrilled about sharing you with anyone else. It’s noticed how quickly Orys steps into the role of an uncle, adding more fuel to the gossip (being Aegon’s brother). Like everyone else, he's just as protective and is more than willing to personally handle anyone who dares to cross you. But also similar to Aegon, beyond being protective, he's pretty laid-back. During your younger years, he'd times have you seated on his lap or playfully throw you up in the air.

As mentioned, Visenya is fiercely protective and sometimes may come off as a bit harsh, but her intentions are solely for your well-being. Her kingsguards are not only ordered to protect the king but are specifically trained to protect their little princess. She’s involved in your education, ensuring that you embrace your ‘Valyrian’ heritage. 

Each day she’ll have you rehearse your words, recount the history of your family house, and fulfill all your supposed duties. It’s Aegon and Rhaenys who urge Visenya to give you a break from time to time (not just because they want to spend time with you). Visenya also insists on training you despite her brother and sister’s wishes. Rhaenys thinks your gentle hands shouldn’t touch a blade with Aegon claiming you’re protected enough.

While they might disagree on many things, both Aegon and Rhaenys agree with Visenya's idea of giving you your own dragon egg. Given as a gift on your nameday. And even if the dragon hatches and you may never ride it, they are sure to let it recognize you as their owner; to let it be yours and yours only. Besides it’s further proof to the rest of the kingdom that you’re indeed one of them.

Like Visenya, Rhaenys is very much involved in your life and rarely lets you out of her sighs. She’s much smothering and the most affectionate out of her siblings, known to watch you with great fondness and expect to be praised for even the smallest accomplishments.

Rhaenys takes charge of your wardrobe, dressing you in the colors of House Targaryen and embellishing you with all sorts of jewelry. The many songs she has ensured to be dedicated, praising your elegance and beauty that they are believed to have passed down generations.

That’s not to say Aegon isn’t involved, he is but tends to be overshadowed by his sisters; finding himself stuck in the middle of their disagreements. Despite this, he makes his stance known and will use all types of excuses to steal you away. Aegon goes as far as making you his cupbearer, though while the council members are hesitant to take you away from the king's side. Only Orys dares to have you come and fill his cup.

They often find themselves in childish arguments on who you should ride with. Aegon occasionally claims victory, it helps Baelrion is the largest. In fact, whenever any of the siblings go for a flight, they are likely to bring you along. During their shared flights, they would showcase all sorts of tricks like getting close to the water or letting their dragons spit fire in the open air just to witness the excited look on your face.

Aegon spoils you (rotten) and is ready to fulfill almost all your whims and desires. While he’ll gladly gift you with jewelry and gowns like Rhaenys, Aegon is more inclined to make grand gestures like contracting statues and naming things in your honor. If you were to ask, he'd happily construct a bathhouse, a vast garden, you just need to ask.

Aegon is surprisingly someone you find it easy to turn to whenever you get in trouble, along with Uncle Orys. He's perfectly fine with you doing your own thing, playing away while he watches from a distance.

Despite their occasional arguments, at the end of the day, they are united through their care for you. You mean everything to them, and though each may express it differently, they all just want to see you happy and safe.

Adding Maegor and Aenys into the mix just makes everything more chaotic. While it's not much of a hidden secret that Rhaenys and Visenya favor you, they attempt to keep it subtle. Aegon isn't very adept at hiding it, and there have been discussions where he expresses the desire for you to be his heir instead. However, by the Westerosi tradition, Aenys is the expected heir.

Aenys and Maegor are particularly attached to you, even when their parents clearly seem to favor you. Being a bit older than Aenys, Rhaenys actively encouraged the bond between you two. She always insisted your small self to hold him and it became well-known among the castle servants that baby Aenys would cry until you came at his side. 

The death of Rhaenys threw everything into chaos. Visenya and Aegon, if possible, became even more protective, god forbid if Dorne were to make an attempt (or try to bring you back). You became the outlet for their grief, with Aegon demanding your presence more than ever. Aenys clung to you for comfort, a child who doesn’t seem to fully understand where his mother went. 

A year or two passed before Maegor was born, and he was already different from the start. Aenys, always smaller than the other kids, remained easily carried by your child self even as he grew. You'd lift him up on your back as he squealed with delight, but Visenya would scold you; your back could get hurt and Aenys is heir, he must be expected to behave like one.

Maegor, on the other hand, was bigger than most kids, with round and full cheeks that you couldn't resist poking and pulling. Similar to Aenys, he constantly demanded your attention, but unlike Aenys who cried, Maegor caused tantrums, pushing other kids you interacted with and throwing things until he got the attention he sought.

A rivalry started between the brothers, and more often than not, you found yourself in the middle of it, but it was mostly one-sided with Maegor often starting the conflicts. Moreover, Aegon directed most of his attention toward Aenys with kingdom duties and all, leaving you mostly with Maegor and Visenya.

Unlike Rhaenys, who didn't have the time to mold her son, Visenya did. She made sure that her son knows that it’s his duty to protect and care for you, deeming Aenys as weak in her eyes. Maegor learned to value you above all else. Sparring was no longer necessary, as according to Maegor he’ll be the one to protect you from now. In one incident, Maegor attacked a noble boy who had jokingly insulted you. Aegon and Visenya never punished him, with the excuse that Aegon didn't want to cause a scene.

Aenys, much like his mother, is naturally affectionate. Openly embracing you in front of the entire court or hold your hand as you walk together. Such displays of affectionate were a never-ending lecture from Visenya and Aegon and all it did was fuel Maegor’s jealousy. 

As all three of you came of age, there was a flood of suitors vying for your hand in marriage. Aegon would use any excuse to deter them, but deep down, he secretly wished to wed you to Aenys but he knows Visenya might insist on Maegor instead, further fueling the rivalry between the brothers. The reactions of your brothers toward your suitors only intensifies, with Maegor eagerly challenging anyone who seeks your hand and Aenys wearing a mask of happiness for you while secretly desiring to have you all to himself.

It becomes even messier if the brothers are wed to other women. Alyssa and Ceryse, in particular, feel the pressure to be on your good side, knowing that a gesture from you could sway their husbands in your favor. Despite being married to them, the wives can't shake the feeling of being the "other women". The awkwardness is heightened by Aenys, who insists on you being close to his children, going so far as to let you be one of the first to hold baby Rhaena. 

The family was struck with a moment of grief upon Aegon's death, leaving Visenya as the sole parent. With Aegon, and even Orys, no longer present, Visenya had the freedom to enforce her regulations and expectations without interruption. Maegor, being a wild card, proved difficult to control. Despite Aenys' perceived weakness, he stepped into Aegon's place, not directly opposing Visenya and Maegor but making it clear that you were a line not to be crossed. Your place is to be with him and his family, by his side in council. 

Aegon's death set off a chain reaction, fueling the underlying war within the family that had already been brewing.

[pascaloverx]

DANDELIONS

Summary: You are the new guest of the Bridgertons. Your mother, an old friend of Lady Violet Bridgerton, has requested that you spend a season at the Bridgerton house in hopes that you will change your perspective on true love and marriage. You are convinced that love is a fictional construct and that a marriage without love will be your downfall; but some time with the Bridgerton siblings might change your mind.

Author's Note: The characters belong to the Bridgerton universe and Julia Quinn. However, the story will have some changes from what happens in the Bridgerton series (2020-). Dear readers, this story may contain strong language and steamy romance scenes. It may even feature a love triangle. Be warned and enjoy the reading.

AO3 LINK TWO

ONE

"A great idea," you grumbled the entire way from your house to the Bridgerton house. Your mother had told you it would be an excellent idea for you to venture into society. "An independent mission," she said. Your father is so ill and trapped in his own world that he didn't mind letting his only daughter go to a stranger's house. Your mother has given up on arranging a conventional marriage for you. She doesn't respect the fact that you don't want a marriage like hers. You wonder if it's so wrong to want a marriage filled with tenderness, passion, love, or any feeling other than indifference. You basically grew up knowing you were the product of an obligation. The only child your parents managed to conceive before your father became too ill to have more children. Or rather, before your mother gave up trying to love him. When you were born, at least she had shed the moral burden of having to provide your father with an heir. Obviously, both she and he had hoped you would be a boy. But you think that over the years they have grown accustomed to you. This year, for some reason, your mother wants you to get married. Perhaps it's because your father is on the brink of death. If you find a husband who can manage your father's properties and investments, maybe you will become something useful to your family. Your father only mutters about wanting a male grandchild to carry on his legacy, and your mother wants you married. After Lady Violet Bridgerton successfully married off her daughter Daphne, your mother began to think that perhaps she could help you. So, after exchanging a few letters, you are now on your way to the Bridgerton house to be introduced to society's marriage system.

"I need to step out of this carriage for a moment," you say as you stop murmuring your mother's words. Your companion gives you a look that says, "She's lost her mind," but you know she will eventually let you get out of the carriage.

"Actually, we are already in front of the Bridgerton house entrance. I must remind you that your mother recommended I stay by your side most of the time," Mrs. Lydia says, as if you didn't know that, as your companion, she is supposed to always be nearby.

"I know your job is to protect my honor, but believe me, if I enter the Bridgerton house in my current mood, they will expel me before midnight. I need a moment to think," you say, nervously adjusting the hem of your dress. Your companion gently nods as if she understands. Lydia is the closest thing to true family that you have. So it's no surprise that she understands you.

"Enter the house for a moment and be polite. There's a stable on the Bridgerton property; I'll see what I can do. Ask Lady Bridgerton or the Viscount Bridgerton if you can go for a ride. And try not to get into trouble. I'll pretend to accompany you but give you some time alone," Lydia says, and you hug her tightly. A good horse ride after meeting the Bridgertons is just what you need. Not that you know much about them. You can only imagine. They are several siblings, and you are an only child. It's not hard to imagine there will be some incompatibilities. Minutes later, you step out of the carriage with Lydia, observing several people standing around you two.

"Dear Miss Y/L/N, it's a pleasure to welcome you here. I must confess that when your mother informed me of your arrival, we all looked forward to it," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she approaches you. She seems so friendly that you feel inclined to hug her.

"I would like to thank you, Lady Bridgerton, and your lovely family for your hospitality. Unfortunately, my mother couldn't come with me, but my companion Lydia is here," you say awkwardly. The truth is, you're feeling that this season at Aubrey Hall with all the Bridgertons might be more challenging than you imagine.

"Let's not waste time exchanging pleasantries and let's go inside so you can see your quarters. I believe it will be the perfect time for you to get to know my children better," she says as she guides you into the house. The place is spectacular. As soon as you enter, you see some people approaching.

"Miss Y/L/N, I must warn you that this family can be a bit lively, but we will try our best to welcome you with courtesy," says a girl who must be a little younger than you. She has a book in her hands and is the first to approach you as you enter.

"Eloise, don't scare off our guest. Welcome to our abode, Miss Y/L/N. My name is Colin Bridgerton, and if you need someone to talk to, I'll be available. But I know that after a journey, the best thing is a good night's rest," Colin says to you, who smiles, finding it amusing how many Bridgertons are showing up.

"I believe I should thank Miss Eloise for the warning and Mr. Bridgerton for his kindness. Although I believe I still have a long way to go until my restful moment," you say, looking at the two who seem pleased with your gratitude.

"Your dress is beautiful, Miss Y/L/N. By the way, unlike my older brothers, I know how to introduce myself. My name is Hyacinth Bridgerton." A girl who seemed not to be at the entrance of the house just moments ago suddenly appears, saying this as she walks quickly toward you.

"You're mistaking knowing how to introduce yourself with flattery, Hyacinth. I'm Gregory Bridgerton, but you can call me Gregory," says a young boy who appears to be almost the same age as Hyacinth, while the girl taps him on the shoulder. You find it cute and funny how they behave. Having siblings seems to be at least entertaining.

"The younger ones are so noisy. I wish you a pleasant stay with us, Miss Y/L/N. You'll need it. If you need some peace, just look for me. My name is Francesca," a young woman says kindly as she moves away from the confusion that this introduction session is becoming.

"Now that Miss Y/L/N has met most of the Bridgertons who reside in this house, how about having some tea in the garden of the property?" Lady Violet speaks gently, touching your arm. You nod in agreement.

"I would just like to go to the quarters where I will be staying for a change of clothing. I hope you understand, Lady Violet." You were already starting to feel pain in your back from the corset that was too tight on you.

"My dear, you can call me Violet, and you may go. I'll ask them to take you to the room where you'll be staying, and your companion will join you shortly to assist. Once you're done, I'll be in the garden waiting for you." Lady Bridgerton speaks, and you follow the servant she assigns to show you where you'll be staying. Knowing that Lydia will be with you shortly, as soon as you enter the room, you lock the door.

"What are you doing here, Miss?" A male voice speaks as soon as you lock the door, and you startle as you turn around to find a man, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, staring at you.

"I'm almost certain that I should be the one saying that, sir. I must warn you that if I were to scream, you'd be in trouble," you say, composing yourself as you observe the man looking at you curiously. Perhaps he knows that you wouldn't scream because it would ruin your reputation, or maybe he is part of the Bridgerton family, considering your mother warned you that there were three older adult brothers.

"Do you really want my family to know that I'm inappropriately dressed near you? Let me guess, you're desperate for a marriage and want to make your life easier by tying me to you?" The man speaks as he straightens up, buttoning the rest of his shirt.

"How dare you accuse me of such a strategy, considering that it is you who is in the quarters assigned to me, improperly dressed, and with an attitude worthy of pity. Honestly, my last thought at the moment would be to force a scandal so that you would have to become my husband," you reply, holding yourself near the door, keeping yourself away from whoever this Mr. Bridgerton is in front of you.

"Forgive me, Miss, but I don't trust a word coming out of your mouth at the moment. However, I assure you that this type of situation is not customary. I was trying to enter through the window of my room or one of my brothers' rooms, but I ended up in here. I had no idea that you would be arriving today. In fact, I'm being rude at this moment. I am Viscount Anthony Bridgerton," he says, approaching you cautiously as if analyzing you. Perhaps he is trying to figure out if you are an opportunist or not.

"Without intending to be rude, but already being so, whether you are a Viscount, Prince, or Duke, I don't care. What matters now is that no one finds out that we are alone here," you say, looking him squarely in the eyes, as if to firmly convey that you absolutely do not want them to be discovered.

"If you can draw the attention of the people in the house to yourself for a couple of minutes, I can leave the way I came in. Do you think that would be possible?" Anthony says with a certain petulance. However, a bold idea occurs to you. You give him a determined look and then step closer to him, bringing you both very near to each other.

"I'll simulate a small fall down the stairs. You'll have the time it takes for me to miraculously recover. Be efficient, Viscount Bridgerton," you say briefly and storm out of the room, aware that spending more time in the Viscount's presence would be a real test of your self-control. The room was starting to feel quite warm.

You descend the stairs, doing your best to appear slightly unsteady. You kick the last step with all your strength before reaching the bottom of the stairs and let out a loud groan of pain, loud enough to be heard from afar. You even manage to tear up a bit, waiting for everyone to come and check on you. Just as you are lightly sprawled on the floor, a man walks through the door. You don't remember being introduced to him before, but he is certainly a Bridgerton. He sees you and immediately rushes towards you.

"Miss, are you alright? Can I help you up?" The man asks with a concerned and caring expression. Knowing that Anthony needs more time, you let out a cry of complaint as if in fake pain when the Bridgerton in front of you tries to help you up. At that moment, you start to be surrounded by several people.

"Oh, I think I twisted my ankle, but there's no need to worry. I just need a moment," you say, uncertain if you can keep up the pretense much longer.

"My dear, don't strain yourself. Benedict will help you to a room where we can call for Dr. Lewis to examine you," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she lightly touches the arm of who you presume to be Benedict.

"May I?" Benedict asks seconds before you nod your head in agreement. But to be honest, you're not even sure what you're agreeing to. Until Benedict lifts you, asking you to put your arms around his neck. You hold on tight to him, somewhat afraid he might drop you.

"Mr. Bridgerton, you are very kind. I believe you didn't need to lift me. But I am grateful for your help," you say as you are leaned close to Benedict's chest, which you now notice is slightly exposed. What's with the Bridgertons today that everyone is showing more than they should?

"I must admit, before my family enters here, that it was amusing to take part in your charade. It was quite artistic of you. I hope you'll call on me if you want to star in another theatrical piece to get my brother out of trouble. Have a good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N," he says all this as he gently releases you onto a sofa. He doesn't seem angry or anything like that; genuinely, he seems to be enjoying himself. As soon as he leaves the room where he left you, the rest of the Bridgerton family and some servants surround you. Now you'll have to pretend to be in pain for a little while longer while you're intrigued not only by one but by two Bridgerton brothers.

[marichive]

100 INDULGENT TROPES

A collection of one hundred tropes of varying nature. Spiritual successor to my previous An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme. Some of these pair well together and can easily be sent in various combinations. Some are also highly suggestive in nature. Engage appropriately.

one muse steps protectively in front of the other

one muse tends to the other’s injury

one muse is not acting like themselves and the other has to snap them out of it

one muse kisses the other during an argument

one muse pins the other to a wall

one muse kisses the other on their hand or wrist

one muse kisses the other on their neck or shoulder

one muse helps the other put on a necklace or tie

our muses aren’t supposed to be together but keep meeting anyway (on purpose or by accident)

our muses have a secret relationship

one muse takes a blow meant for the the other

one muse fights away enemies attacking the the other

one muse asks the other for their favor / a token before battle or a tourney

our muses share a night together believing it might be their last

our muses are in an arranged marriage / betrothal

our muses willingly marry for political reasons

our muses get married for love

our muses get married in a spur-of-the-moment decision

one muse has taken the other captive

our muses are in love but one thinks they aren’t good enough for the other

our muses are forced to ally for a common goal

our muses are enemies or former enemies but have started to fall for each other

our muses claim to hate each other but there is palpable tension between the two

our muses are trying to manipulate each other

one muse is trying to manipulate the other

our muses have feelings for each other but have conflicting loyalties

our muses are friends but have started to fall for each other

our muses are childhood friends that have been slowly falling for each other over the years

one muse has been in love with the other for a long time but is afraid their feelings are not reciprocated

one muse is in love with the other but they are in a relationship with or engaged to another person

our muses engage in a courtly romance

one muse is a knight in service to the the other’s family

one muse seeks comfort from a loveless marriage with the other, their lover

one muse traces the other’s scars

one muse kisses the other in a moment of heightened emotion

one muse confides in the other in a vulnerable moment

our muses are in love but circumstances prevent them from being together

our muses are exes who discover lingering feelings after reuniting

one muse confesses love to another after that person is injured

one muse confesses love to another because they believe they may die soon

our muses must share a bed

one muse lifts the other’s chin to look them in the eye

one muse places a hand at the back of the other’s neck to pull them extremely close

our muses have been hooking up, no strings attached

our muses have been hooking up, but one or both has developed deeper feelings

our muses are exes that hook up against their better judgement

one muse presumes the other is dead but is shocked when they show up alive again

one muse betrays their long held loyalties in order to save the other’s life from their own allies

our muses fake a relationship but have no actual interest in each other

our muses fake a relationship but start to genuinely fall for each other

one muse is known for their hard exterior and softens only in the other’s presence

one muse is the other’s weakness, something an enemy is trying to exploit

our muses are stuck somewhere together and must occupy their time

one muse has feelings for the other but has not acted on them due to their association with another character (a sibling / relative / ex / etc. ) or an organization

one muse is scared to act on feelings for the other due to poor experiences with love in the past

one muse is oblivious to the other’s feelings for them

one muse acts oblivious to the other’s feelings for them but really they are aware

one muse has unrequited feelings for the other

our muses are co-workers engaging in a hidden romance

one muse reveals one of their darkest secrets to the other

one muse comforts the other during an emotional breakdown

one muse calms the other from an intense rage

one muse’s family forbids them from seeing the other

our muses are in love but their friends / family do not support their relationship

one muse seeks redemption for past actions and comes to the other to atone

our muses regularly exchange letters

our muses move in together

our muses adopt a pet together

our muses have a child together

our muses adopt a child together

one muse discovers they are pregnant by accident

our muses have been set up by mutual friends

our muses have been set up by a matchmaker

our muses are in love with each other but are in denial

one muse is the other’s bodyguard / protector

one muse is royalty while the other is a commoner / rogue / societal outcast

one muse kisses the other for a bet

one muse relentlessly flirts with the other

our muses kiss for the first time ever

one muse wins a date with the other at an event

our muses dance together for the first time

one muse brushes their fingers through the other’s hair

one muse drunkenly confesses something to the other

our muses drunkenly hook up and wake up next to each other

our muses are roommates

our muses are partners in crime

one muse is a supernatural creature who falls for the other, who is a mortal

our muses are supernatural creatures from opposite clans or species that are historically hostile to each other

one muses is under a spell / in the middle of a monstrous transformation but somehow recognizes the other and refrains from harming them

our muses cuddle for warmth

our muses run away together

one muse wears piece of clothing or jewelry that belongs to the other

our muses bathe together

our muses cook together

our muses cuddle in bed

one muse serenades the other

one muse holds a weapon to the other as a threat

one muse physically lifts the other up

one muse protectively wraps an arm around the other

meet cute !

[astralis-ortus]

i'll keep you in a photograph

✱ crush!sm x fem!reader

— it's just a silly little crush.

w.count → 2.5k genre → romance warning → minor cussing, appearances by other 4/8 skz and itzy's ryujin, menace lee know in action, also no use of y/n whatsoever at all a.n → time to celebrate because we're finally debuting a seungmin fic!🎊 i wasn't even planning for the fic to be this long, but i guess it is what it is, lol. also! do let me know if you would like a part 2 to this fic! ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist

you've never been much of a sports fan in the first place.

the burning ambition, loud cheers, and massive crowds—it's just simply not your thing. really, you have nothing against the people who loves sports, but if given the choice between a vip ticket to the next biggest sports match and a week-long, peaceful getaway at the countryside,

you would absolutely chose the latter in a heartbeat.

hence,

with that image of you in mind,

imagine the surprise amongst your group of friends when you told them that in your right mind, with zero drops of alcohol flowing in your blood, you had stepped in to be one of the volunteer game photographer for your campus' next baseball game.

"i don't believe you," felix shook his head, golden locks swaying in unison, "what do you mean you just want to? you don't even like going to popular cafes—how are you supposed to deal with a baseball crowd? do you even know how massive that game would be?"

"pretty sure someone forced her," ryujin sighed, lines between her eyebrows still clearly visible beneath the stray strands of hair as she faced hyunjin on her right, "told you those people at the photography club seemed suspicious. why didn't you listen and joined with her? they won't be able to take advantage of her like this if you're there!"

"guys—"

"why is it my fault?" hyunjin protested, quickly pointing his manicured nails in your direction, "she's the one who signed up to the club without any of us knowing! it's not like i didn't want to join the club too—they already closed the form before i could try signing up!"

"hey—"

"you could've gone earlier!"

"how am i supposed to know?"

"you could've—"

"guys!"

the bickering between the two immediately ceased as the three pair of eyes now locked in your direction, visibly surprised at the tone of your voice. to be fair, you do understand why your friends are acting the way they are, but god, they're starting to sound more like a couple of overprotective parent and a childish sibling at this point.

"no one forced me, i promise," you sighed, quietly fidgeting with your fingers under the cafeteria table. you do admit it's far too weird for you to be doing all this, but you have your reason. "i'll be fine, you don't have to worry about me too much. i'll be okay."

"besides," you quickly continued upon noticing the persisting worry in your friends' eyes, "it's about time i start doing new stuff like this. i don't want to feel like i'm wasting my last years as a student and graduate with regret. okay?"

only then does your friends' eyes seem to soften, worry now replaced by relief.

"if you say so," felix became the first one to smile, hand gently patting your shoulder, "but don't go overboard with it, okay? try to go to the practice sessions first so you could gauge the situation for game day."

"felix's right," both hyunjin and ryujin added at the same time, quickly glaring at each other before focusing back at you.

"i can go with you to the practices," ryujin volunteered, frown lines already replaced with a beaming smile, "i happen to know one of the assistant coach, he'll let us watch if i ask him!"

"pretty sure you just want to see that legendary pitcher—ow!" hyunjin quickly rubbed out the sting from ryujin's slap on his shoulder, and between her glare, hyunjin's protest, and felix's laugh,

no one seemed to notice the faint shade of blush, slowly creeping on your cheeks.

the fresh spring air of seoul eagerly fills your lungs—quietly reminding you of a distant memory when life was nothing more than running around the field of your grandparents' countryside home. you might be a quiet kid, but that never stopped you from exploring every nook and cranny you could find around the vicinity of the well-maintained traditional house.

today, however,

you're planning on making a new memory for yourself.

as it turns out, ryujin does actually know the assistant coach for the campus' baseball team. chris, as he introduced himself, is also a personal trainer at the gym ryujin frequents, explaining the unexpected connection—much to hyunjin's dismay, though, who was really looking forward for a new reason to tease ryujin. both you and felix could only shook your heads, each wondering when (or if) the two will ever stop bickering with each other.

the first few practice session you attended with ryujin was a lot more fun than you had expected it to be. maybe it was ryujin's friendliness that helped lowered the players' guards down around the new faces watching, but everyone seemed very welcoming to the addition of you and your camera around the perimeters of the field.

you, on the other hand, also got to learn about where and when to snap the best pictures, along with the terms to help you understand better about whatever is going on in the field during the game. had felix not popped the idea to watch these practice sessions, you probably won't be able to do your best for the upcoming game day, and you definitely will need to treat your friends to some chicken and beer later as a thank you.

for today's practice round, however,

you're left all alone.

you don't blame ryujin—she has her own class related stuff to tend to, and besides, her coming with you for the first few times were already more than enough. you've grown far more comfortable being around the considerably sized crowd and you know your ways around the place should you need some time away, but all in all, you know you're doing a lot better now, thanks to ryujin's help.

"oh, you're here!" chris were the first one to spot you, waving with his dimpled smile on display, "ryujin told me you'd be on your own today. will you be okay?"

"of course," you mirrored the older's smile, finally standing next to the casually dressed assistant coach at the edge of the field, "she's too worried, but i'll be fine. it's not like i'm the one running around, hitting the balls anyway."

chris cracked a laugh at your joke, relieved that you don't seem to be as tense as you were when he first met you. "well that's great, then," he hummed in content, smiling in your direction, "feel free to walk around the usual space, today's practice won't be as hard the ones before so you should be able to get better shots."

and surely, you did.

like the usual round, chris had to monitor the practice and hence, you're left to explore the media pit on your own. you greeted some of the players you've gotten acquainted with while they wait for their turn, and you also managed to snap some new shots to submit to the campus website and journalist club. it might be a volunteer event, but hey, you have to be strategic with your portfolio, right?

"at this rate, your crush might as well be broadcasted from the speakers, you know."

the sudden voice coming from your left nearly made you drop your camera.

"what crush?" you throw a protest—albeit sounding more like a squeak—at minho, the other assistant coach you've gotten acquainted with through your time at the field. "i'm just doing my job here," you continued, shaking your head before again raising your camera,

while also attempting to mask the rising tempo of your heartbeat.

"you can't fool me like you fool the others," minho chuckled, lips tugged into a lopsided smile while he crossed his arms in amusement, "i can clearly see where your lenses are pointed, so there's really no use in lying to me."

crap.

"you're just saying nonsense to bother me," you huffed, trying to keep your cool behind the camera while attempting your best to hide the flush on your face from minho. even if you're about to get your cover blown, you'd rather not get it done by the menace that minho is.

sure, it hasn't been long since you've been introduced to minho, but for reasons only god and minho himself knows, the guy seems to just weirdly pick on you out of the blue and as it turns out, he's quite a psychic too.

"well then if that's not the case," minho shrugged, quietly extending a palm at you, "can i see the pictures you've taken today?"

"no!"

and only after you saw the maniacal smirk plastered across minho's face as you clutched the camera close to your heart that your realized,

your cover is blown.

[ weeks ago ]

honestly, you don't think you'll be joining any clubs this year.

it's not that you don't want to—you actually do, considering you're the only one of your quartet who still hasn't really decided on anything to do outside of your classes, but nothing seems to be piquing your interest just yet.

staring down at your phone, you're trying to find your last resort—the photography club. to be fair, you're not a major photography geek in the first place. yes, you do like taking pictures and you do go out of your way to learn the basics of photography, but that's about it. despite everyone telling you that you're good at it, you've never viewed photography as something more than just a hobby.

"it should be—ow!"

the sudden force against your shoulder sent your phone straight to the hard surface of your campus building's floor, inviting several gasps to be heard between the decorated walls—including one of your own.

"shit—i'm really sorry, are you okay?"

before you could even react, a hand had reached for your phone and quickly dusted the screen off before offering the device back to you. "i'm really sorry about this, i'm in a bit of a hurry and i wasn't looking. are you okay? is your shoulder alright?"

in all honesty? no, you're not okay.

"yeah, it's okay. i'm at fault too," you grimaced, noting the dull ache on your shoulder while reluctantly grabbing your phone, hoping for the safety of your screen, "i'm so—"

any remaining air left in your lungs seemed to get caught in your throat as soon as your eyes found the pair staring right at yours, catching you off guard. even under the navy ballcap he's wearing, the depth of his eyes had successfully lured the remaining pieces of rationale beyond you.

"look," he continued, snapping you out of your trance, "i'm in a hurry right now, but if by any chance i accidentally broke your phone, you can come find me today at the baseball field at 5pm and i'll take full responsibility. sounds good?"

your head had nodded even before you could even entirely process what just happened to you—were you just bewitched by a guy in a navy ballcap?

"alright, good," the figure finally broke out a smile, already taking his steps to the direction opposite of yours, "thank you! i appreciate it!"

and just as you realized you haven't gotten the mysterious guy's name, you caught a glimpse of the small embroidered name at the back of his jacket before he disappeared at the end of the hallway.

kim seungmin.

[ present day ]

you're so going to kill minho.

after the stunt he pulled off earlier, it didn't take you a second to take off from his crime scene, tightly holding your pandora's box of a camera while you try and find a spot to hide from minho—but most importantly, from seungmin.

you know seungmin probably won't realize that you were gone, but the horror that minho might've spoiled your little secret to seungmin himself made you a little bit nauseous.

in your defense, you weren't expecting anything to happen between you and seungmin. sure, you joined the photography club solely because you've seen their coverage during previous baseball season and were hoping you could be one of the people to document seungmin's journey as a u-league player, but that's it.

it was just a silly little crush—nothing more.

"uh, hey."

the speed it took you to look at the figure standing across nearly got you to pull a muscle—and if it wasn't enough, the fact that seungmin is indeed the owner of the voice calling out to you were ready to be the cherry on top.

"minho hyung told me to give this to you as an apology," he offered a can of coffee, smiling at you depite being visibly unsure about what he's currently doing. "i thought he should've gave this to you himself but, you know, minho hyung is… yeah, he can be kind of weird."

you couldn't help but laugh at seungmin's comment, accepting the surprisingly warm can as you shrugged, "he is weird. thank you, though, for giving me this in his stead. you didn't have to."

"don't mention it," seungmin smiled—and again, your heart skipped a beat. "i'm on my way too, anyway. it's cool."

"on your way?" you questioned, words already rolling off your lips even before you could process your own thoughts. to be fair, the spot you ran away to were exactly the opposite of the baseball fields' exit gate—which doesn't make sense, if seungmin were on his way out.

"sorry—i didn't mean to pry," you quickly backtracked before seungmin could answer, already preparing to leave the shaded bench you've been staying at for the past 40 minutes or so. "i think i better leave. thank you again for—"

"wait!"

your eyes doubled in size when seungmin stepped in your way, preventing you from moving further. it seemed like he's also surprised at himself, judging from the way his eyes had mirrored yours.

"i, uh," clearing his throat, you noticed the hesitance in his face before seungmin then pointed at the phone in your hand, "is your phone working just fine? nothing broke?"

…oh.

oh?

"you… remembered?" you took a step back, nearly tumbling back at the bench had seungmin not grabbed your wrist, equally as surprised as you are. only after you convinced him that you're okay is when seungmin willingly dropped his hold on your arm.

"well, of course i remembered," seungmin nervously chuckled, subconsciously rubbing his nape, "i was the one who sent your phone flying, so… i feel responsible. i mean i was glad you didn't came that day since it meant your phone was okay and i've actually been meaning to ask since i realized it was you who came to take our pictures, but…"

you quietly anticipated between the pause, granting seungmin the time to explain as he shrugged and continued,

"i kind of feel like a creep if you didn't remember me since i realized i didn't actually give you my name that day."

so he did realize…?

frankly, it felt like your brain is short circuiting—so seungmin remembers you? why? was he just curious about your phone? was he waiting for you to come? why would he feel like a creep? what is happening right now?

"and since i didn't get to give you my name that day," seungmin continued, eyes reflecting a newfound determination amidst the persisting worry,

"can i get your number this time?"

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[thisfeelslike-iykyk]

diary of a leo valdez ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

leo valdez x female!reader backtrack: "pretty u", seventeen inspiration: my desire to have someone love me like this 🥺

day one: the introduction

today I saw the most perfect girl!

okay, I know I say that every time I see a girl, but I think this time is for real. she’s perfect--beautiful and completely out of my league, like usual. I was just walking around camp when she walked by. it was like the actual grass parted to make way for her. she had a golden aura and flower petals were flying around her, illuminating her beauty. I wanted to ask for her number, but then I remembered that demigods aren’t supposed to have phones.

percy noticed me staring at her, I guess. he said something about me taking my shot, that she was single and I might as well try. I don’t know if he was joking or not, but I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I saw her this afternoon. at dinner my fork missed my mouth because I was watching her laugh with her friends. I was sitting on the other side of the pavilion, but I still heard her laugh. it was like twinkling bells.

I asked percy for her name: [name]. the word sounds like magic on my tongue. I’ve gotta talk to her soon. maybe she can drop something and I’ll pick it up for her and she’ll fall in love with me. maybe she’ll trip and I’ll dramatically catch her before she falls. I’ll say something nice--maybe “hey angel, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”--and we’ll fall in love.

okay, I’m getting ahead of myself. the first step to making [name] love me? I’d have to talk to her first.

day two: the failed meeting

leave it to percy to mess up what could’ve been a fairytale romance.

it was better than I could’ve imagined: we were at the arts and crafts station during afternoon free time. I sat as close to [name] as I could, which wasn’t really close because she was sitting with her friends and siblings. a gust of wind blew by--aeolus must’ve liked me today--and a bunch of feathers that [name]’s group was using blew off the table. I jumped out of my seat to pick up a stray feather that had blown to my side of the table. then I tripped over percy’s outstretched foot right in front of everyone.

he swore it wasn’t on purpose. maybe it really wasn’t--percy’s not that big of a jerk--but I was still mad. that was the perfect opportunity to get [name] to notice me. now it’s gone.

day seven: the beginning of something magical

[name] talked to me today!

she didn’t say much--just “excuse me”, because I was blocking her way to the bathroom. but she looked at me! and she smiled a little when she said it!

percy made fun of me relentlessly after that. apparently I had a “dopey smile” on my face. I didn’t even care that he was laughing at me.

this is a new development. she’s finally noticed me.

day twenty: the realization

I think this is serious.

usually after I see a pretty girl, I think about her for a few hours. maybe even a few days if she’s really hot. but now it’s been almost three weeks since I first saw [name], and I still can’t stop thinking about her. she’s talked to me a couple times now, but she still hasn’t paid much attention to me outside of these two-second conversations. she knows my name now--I made sure to tell her--and I’ve made her laugh a few times though, so that’s progress.

I caught myself tapping out her name in morse code today. I do it a lot now, almost as much as I tinker around with my bolts.

day twenty-five: the first big move

I can’t take it anymore.

she’s always on my mind. I can’t think straight when I’m around her. I get this huge smile on my face whenever I think of her. percy’s stopped teasing me; I think he might actually be kind of concerned.

I wrote her a love letter. cheesy, I know, but I didn’t know what else to do. I was originally planning on just going up to her all confident and smoothly ask her out. but when I opened my mouth to hit her with one of my deadly pickup lines, nothing came out. I got more jumpy than usual, and my chest was all warm and fluttery. I was looking at her--gods, her eyes are so pretty--but then it got really hard to keep looking at her, so I looked away. I was painfully aware of myself tinkering with little bolts. she was looking at me with this little smile on her face, as if waiting for me to say something--I had stopped her to talk to her in the first place--but I couldn’t think of what to say. I said something real smart, like “are you the square root of negative one, because you can’t be real.” she looked at me, kinda confused, and I awkwardly slunk away. I’m used to rejection, but this was so much worse.

then I remembered that we’re demigods. [name] probably hadn’t progressed in school to the point where she learned about radicals.

so now here I am with this stupid love letter. I included a little apology for the confusing pickup line. I don’t know how I’ll give it to her. maybe I actually won’t. yeah, that’s probably for the best. this letter is the most serious, most straightforward I’ve been in the last millennia. even though I’m sure by now that she’s a literal angel and probably won’t laugh at me, I don’t want to take any chances. I know what I want to say to her, now it’s just a matter of how I’ll tell her.

day twenty-six: the betrayal (and the win)

I don’t know what in hades’s underpants happened. but [name] got ahold of the letter.

it was percy. it had to have been percy. percy was the only one who knew about my crush.

well, okay, maybe not the only one--apparently everyone in camp knew, even though I hid it really well-- but he’s the only one who’s ever talked to me about it. it had to have been him, there’s no other option.

I’ll have to get him back. but that’ll wait. because [name]--drumroll, please!

she stopped me before breakfast today and asked to talk somewhere in private. I said I’d follow her to the bottom of tartarus. she laughed and led me to the pegasi stables--kind of an odd place, but definitely private.

she was holding the letter in her hands. she said she was really flattered, that my gesture was “really sweet” and nobody had ever done something like this for her. most importantly, she said she liked me too.

now, even though I can be pretty good at talking to girls, I actually don’t have much experience in a relationship--shocking, I know. I’ve had a lot of potential girlfriends before, but nothing’s ever been this serious or gotten this far.

in that moment, I said what might have been the smartest or the dumbest thing in my life: “so are we official now, or do you want me to yell it out to the whole camp?”

she laughed. and next thing I knew, her lips were on my cheek. she pulled away--my face felt hot, and I took a few seconds to make sure I wasn’t actually on fire--and grinned at me. her face was pink too, and she didn’t have makeup on, but she was just about the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“you’re a dork, leo,” she said. “but you don’t have to tell everyone. I’m pretty sure they already know anyway.”

no idea how that could’ve happened. but it seems like I owe percy jackson a thank you now.

divider by @cafekitsune

taglist: @loveinalocket

[janicekao]

Kookville

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x stepsis reader(dark smut) Summary: Rafe Cameron and his step sister secretly have been hooking up and he is extremely possessive over her. She's a plus size black goddess and he wants her all to himself, although they often quarrel and bicker, she is his and only his. (reader may use Y/N or choose any name of your liking for the fem character)

Warnings: stepcest, dark romance, smut, hate s3x, rough s3x, cr3ampie, violence, br33ding kink, possessive, d0m&femsub, dub!con, etc.

3890 words

Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -------------------------------------

The house quiets down just the way that you like it. Each of your family members have their own plans as they do everyday in the beautiful OBX.

You enjoy the beach, but what you enjoy the most is the new mansion you and your mom just moved into when it's nice and empty.

It's only been you and your mother for as long as you have known it, but just last year, she married the millionaire real estate developer, Ward Cameron.

Not only did you have to get used to having a stepfather, but now you have three step-siblings. Two sisters, Sarah and Wheezie Cameron, and a brother, Rafe Cameron.

You enjoy Sarah and Wheezie's company. Sarah is a year or two younger than you, but she's really down to Earth. Wheezie is the baby, she's much younger than the entire house and seriously looks up to her big sister Sarah.

The girls are nothing like Rafe and Ward...

Rafe and Ward are two of the same kind. Arrogant, selfish, spoiled, and most of all pure evil. Labeling themselves as "Kooks" they believe that they are better than the lower class people on this island who are known as the "Pogues."

You're not sure what your mother saw in Ward Cameron, but you have no right to say anything being that for the last few months, you've been fucking Rafe behind everyone's back.

Started as a drunken mistake, now it has become a necessity to you both.

He needs you so badly, that if he weren't as stuck up as he is, he'd worship the ground you walk on... But then again, maybe he wouldn't with the amount of hate you both have for each other.

You see him as a cruel, rich, arrogant, asshole... And he sees you as a boring, loser, with a bad attitude. So why put up with each other?

Because the sex is fucking incredible.

Incredible to the point that he spoils you with skimpy lingerie and has put you on a birth control regiment.

Each time you do it, you promise yourself it's the last... Hating the fact that you and Rafe were supposed to become family, and now embarrassing enough, you two can't stop boning.

Maybe it is a kink that you both share together... An exhilarating fear of getting caught and the excitement of doing something so extremely wrong...

Whatever it is, you just can't stop.

—————

Lounging in a pair of black shorts, you enjoy the quaintness of your room as you flip through a magazine on the bed.

Sarah and Wheezie are out for ice cream, Mom and Ward are out shopping and spending alone time together, and Rafe is out on the town being devious as always... so you thought.

Bursting through your bedroom door, Rafe comes inside as he searches your purse for money...

You sigh, here we go again.

"What is it this time?" You continue to read as you ask in sarcasm. "For coke, or molly?"

"Shut up, y/n." He takes the only money you have, quickly storing it in the pockets of his pants. "It's my Dad's money anyways. If you need more, just go ask your slutty mother."

"What did you just say?" Hearing the insult about your mother makes your blood boil.

You leave your bed to quickly check him, however he only finds your short and innocently chubby stature amusing. You're far from threatening, voice too sweet to strike fear into anybody.

Staring down at you he chuckles deviously. "You heard me right. Every single night, they keep me up as she loudly fucks my dad out of all of his money."

Rafe caresses your full bottom lip as he gently pulls it down. "Like mother, like daughter, huh?"

You slap Rafe clean across his face.

He takes it like it's nothing.

A low toned growl heats his throat. "Do it again."

You do.

Face hot and red from the second slap, he absolutely loves it.

Rafe tightens his grip around your wrists pulling you up against him. His face should be stinging with pain but instead you feel his hardened cock poke against your bellybutton.

"When was the last time we—"

"Fuck off." You immediately interrupt his lewd intentions as you find yourself back onto your bed and reading your magazine.

Rafe gently lays next to you. He's quiet, too quiet as his intense blue eyes watch you.

Rolling your eyes you immediately turn your back on him. You try and hide the fact that his cologne from after his fresh shower has you almost dizzy with arousal, but he knows.

He watches the goosebumps fill the skin of your arms and begins to smirk.

"What is it this time?" He gently taunts. "Was it my presence? Maybe lying beside you? Or was it the cologne?"

Rafe chuckles as he watches your body tense up. "My cologne. It's always my smell isn't it, y/n?"

"I'm in a rush." He snaps.

Rafe pulls the tiny shorts off of your hips and down your legs before he tosses them to the floor. "I have places to be, not time to waste here with you. Lay on your back."

"You came in here to bother me, remember?" You play hard to get as you bark, knowing that your panties are soaked for him. "Go fuck yourself Rafe."

"Yeah?" He questions. "Well I can do that too."

As you ignore him, you hear his khakis suddenly unzip and the sounds of lewd fapping.

You peel your eyes from the magazine and notice Rafe stroking himself at the sight of you in your underwear and T-shirt.

His mouth hangs agape as he whispers your name. You continue to peek and your mouth begins to water for his handsomely long cock.

His large hand seems to swallow yours up as he takes your attention from your magazine and places your digits over his shaft for you to continue the hand job.

You sigh. "Rafe, what do you want from me?"

"You know what I want." He groans lightly. "I'm going to give you this cock and then I have to go and meet up with Barry."

Rolling your eyes at the thought of Rafe's friend Barry, you know for sure that the money he stole from you is to party. Barry is the worst company to keep... OBX's drug dealer.

Taking your hand away from him as he nears his cum immediately aggravates him.

Rafe takes your magazine and throws it out of your bedroom's opened window, vexed from the aching blue balls you've now given him.

"I was reading that!?" You whine as you watch the pages of your favorite magazine soar through the wind and out of your window.

Rafe puts himself away as he scoffs and begins to leave your room. "You're just a fucking tease."

You hate being called a tease.

You aren't a tease, you two just... hate each other.

Sitting up from your comfortable position, you begin to demand an exchange. "What's in it for me?"

Rafe hardly hears you as he becomes nearly hypnotized by the way your thighs expand as you sit on the edge of the bed.

"Rafe!?" You complain.

"Whatever you want." He can't pull his eyes from you as he licks the drool from his lips in temptation.

You begin to ponder over what it could be that you want in return... You are having a bit of trouble making friends in this new state, maybe getting out more could help. As much as Rafe parties, you are sure that tagging along will help you meet new people.

"Let me come with you to the beach party this Friday!" You finally decide.

"The beach party?" He frowns. "No fucking way. I know you too well, y/n. You'll do something stupid like wear that black string bikini I bought you... That's only for me to see."

You laugh. "Rafe, I'm fully grown, you forget that you're my stepbrother... not my dad."

He gags. "Trust me, I remember quite well."

You reach to aggravate him further. "You're just afraid you'll see me flirting, having fun, and ready to fuck someone else, huh?"

His sarcastic grin fades until his eyes darken. He hates when you push him there, and somehow you're the only one who knows how to do it.

"Do you remember the last time you tried to make me jealous?" Rafe begins to threat.

You reminisce on the red and blue lights that approached the fist fight that nearly knocked you to the ground as you tried to step in between Rafe and your potential one night stand. The evening at a local bar that you wished you never had visited... The evening when you realized how possessive Rafe was truly over you.

You gulp, "I try not to actually."

"Good." He fumes. "Now take off your panties, you're wasting my time."

Tempted to watch the spoiled rich boy plead for something that only you have control over, you begin to toy with his patience.

"Hmm?" You taunt. "Beg for it."

"What? Beg? You?" He laughs in a way that most would see as him bullying you.. Laughter that seems like you're not shit to him, but you know that you are. Your confidence has always been your most powerful trait, also what drives Rafe mad the most. "I can get pussy somewhere else."

He gulps as your cold siren eyes wait for his childish laughter to end. "So do it."

Rafe's jaw clinches. He's terribly angry that the only sex that he actually wants, is yours.

His skin begins to redden as you break the arrogant spirit of the powerful six-foot-two-inch man of pure muscle. "Please, y/n?"

You ignore him... it inflames him.

"You fucking want it too!" He scoffs. "Stop playing so hard to get!"

"So what? I also want a million dollars Rafe." You argue. "I want to hear you beg or you're not getting a fucking thing."

You gently part your plush thighs apart to drive him a bit more crazy... It's nearly comical the way you can melt him. Far from his usual type, however you have just what he needs.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever, fuck you— fine." He struggles with his thoughts and words, wanting you so bad that he nearly stutters words of hatred. It's hilarious.

Eyes of hunger, he finally submits to you. Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, tossing you into his lap as if you were weightless.

He wants you to feel his heated gaze as he does what you ask him to do. He begins to beg for you.

"Y/n, please let me eat your pussy and fuck you until your flesh is raw and you finally shut the fuck up." His erection prodding against you out of his tight khakis nearly takes your breath away.

"Nicer." You whisper quietly.

....

His voice shudders. "Please baby.." Rafe is finally the begging puppy that he deserves to be brought down to. "Let me fuck you so good."

A smirk creeps across your face. "Baby?" You coo. "You must really want it, seeing that you've already gone to pet names."

"Shut up."His kiss takes your breath away, thirsty for your essence, Rafe chokes you with his tongue.

He strips you out of your clothes, letting your T-shirt and panties hit the floor as he stands over your completely bare body.

The way he watches makes you redden with shame. You're nude and he's fully dressed as you become more vulnerable by the second.

"At least undress Rafe!" You frown as you go to stand.

Your breath is sharply taken from you as he pushes you roughly back onto the bed. "Shut up, let me look at you." He demands.

Your goosebumps are back and at full force.

"Oh god.." You become embarrassed as the glistening waterfall between your legs begins to reveal your arousal. Tightening your knees together was a bad move... All Rafe does is pry them apart to watch the slickness even closer.

Enticed and licking his lips, his shirt finally comes off. He enjoys watching the gripped indents around your thighs, so soft and malleable like two pillows as he pulls you further down to the edge of the bed.

Rafe doesn't hesitate any longer. His mouth begins to swallow you up causing you to gasp from how sensitive you are down there.

Your back begins to arch as he devours your pussy and the flicking of his tongue on your clit makes you squeal uncomfortably.

You can't take it.

Your hand presses against his head, fingers through his buzzcut as you shove him away.

Rafe growls. Eyes of pure evil watch up at you as he pins your wrists to the bed. He doesn't stop.Slurping, nibbling, and tongue fucking you as he wants badly to see you cry from his pleasurable torture.

Adding his long digits into your tight cunt, Rafe curls a singular finger at your g-spot.

"Fuck! Rafe please—" Your begging is pathetic.

"Shhh." He coos gently. "You can take it, I need to work you open for me a bit."

You hate how at times he can be almost gentle and romantic... It gets to be so confusing, and in this case, it doesn't help the orgasm tightening in the midst of your stomach.

His indecent finger-fucking has your brain a puddle of dumb mush, not being able to take the precious tongue flicks and kisses on your clit along with the rough thrusts inside of you A second long and strong finger takes you to the moon. Pussy too full of his tanned digits and melting down his wrists, you sinfully cum and lay tiredly into the mattress.

He comes up for air, panting lightly as the alluring muscles in his chest writhes with each breath.

His smile melts you, wet and devious as he presses his lips to yours. "Taste that?" He taunts breathlessly, "Pussy too good for someone so fucking annoying."

Stripping out of his pants, you watch Rafe's weighty erection near his bellybutton as it stands at attention.

He strokes himself softly, making his skin slick with the drop of wet precum that's already beaded out of his needy tip. "Turn around."

He tosses you onto your stomach without much of a warning. You still can hardly think for yourself since your last cum, so Rafe does the thinking for you.

Putting you onto your knees, he arches your back and smooths his fingers through your curls as he presses your face into the mattress for the coming back-shots.

Sliding through your slickness a few times, he lubes himself enough to fuck into you. The tip of his cock plunges through your already sensitive cunt, forcing you to take a gasp of air as you fist the sheets under you.

You hear a gulp that chokes his throat as Rafe continues to push his cock forward. "Fuck, you feel so good baby."

Clinching your eyes shut, you feel his swollen bulbous tip kiss at your cervix. It makes your body shudder. He's so far deep in you, you almost feel sick.

His balls slap against your cunt as he bottoms out into you. Your pussy feels so tight around him that you're sure you can feel his every vein probing out of his hardened flesh.

Rafe follows his own speed, paying most of his attention towards his needy want to reach his own finish. Fucking power drives into you because he knows that you can take it.

His groans are music to your ears, but you can hardly hear them over your own weeping and curses.

"Stay just like that, y/n." He nearly pleads. "You're so tight for me baby, whose pussy is this?"

Although clearly fucked to a pulp and pussy clearly belonging to him, you'd rather die than to let him know it. Eyes half-lidded and drooling onto your sheets, you refuse to let him have it.

"Mine." You pant.

Rafe laughs, plummeting his broad thumb into your tight asshole. "You're so fucking hardheaded, that's okay, you'll learn."

"Rafe! St-Stop!" Your fist tighten the sheets further until your knuckles turn white.

"Next time it'll be my cock.." He threatens you to behave as he forces his thumb in deeper and suddenly snatches it out. "Keep playing with me."

Your body lewdy continues to slap against his. Rafe is so obsessed with it, loving your extremely thick figure and knowing just how to handle it.

He slaps your ass. "Fuck me back."

You do. You throw your ass back in away that has Rafe biting at his lip, trying to hold back from cumming his load too soon.

His strong fingertips seep into the plushed flesh of your waist as he hammers his last strokes into you. Chain dangling against your skin with each thrust.

He groans, deeply growling out his words as he tries to help his own anticipation. "The other day when you babysat for our neighbors, I watched you bounce that baby on your hip and all I could think of was breeding you. Wanting so badly to take the pills from you and pump you with my seed."

"M-fuckkk." You mewl, pussy numb, obliterated, and needing a break.

Rafe chuckles. "The family knows how reckless I am, but what will Mommy and Daddy think of their precious-America's Sweetheart daughter when they find out she's a slut who fucks her stepbrother? A dumb slut who loves her stepbrother's cum so much that she let him fill her until she grew his baby?"

He snatches a handful of your hair, making you yelp and drop tears as he continues to tear you apart. "You deserve the hate that I get it..." His jealousy has his jaws tightened, and gritting his words. "They should know you aren't as innocent as you act."

Rafe harshly slaps your ass, you can feel the handprint swelling into a stinging welt on your flesh.

You can't help but to moan. The sex is so good but the embarrassment of loving it causes you to cry.

"Fuck you." You manage to speak through your wet lips and trembling breaths..

"Anytime you want, sis." His laugh is pure mockery.

"Fuck."Rafe fawns over your body, his hand reaches beneath you, cupping your large breasts and slowly choking your air away.

With a grip on your chin he forces your head around to watch his final act.

Deviously impaling your insides as he sputters his hot cum inside of you. "You're so pretty with a cock in you.Stop acting like we're going to stop, you know that we never will."

"Mmm."His muscles tighten as his many inches still inside of you, jolting as he spills his milky seed. "Tell me how much you love to be fucked by me..."

You feel shame as the hot nut causes you a second climax. Biting the sheets, you can't answer anything as your eyes cross and roll to the back of your skull.

"I swear to god, y/n, answer me." Rafe impales you further making your tummy ache and your cunt nearly tear against him.

"I love it." You weep a final act of submission. "I love to be fucked by you Rafe, my god, just don't go any harder."

Spreading your cheeks apart, he grins at the masterpiece of mess he's made on your swollen flesh. "I won't baby, you did good."

Melting into the mattress, you flatten out of your arched back.

Rafe checks his watch... he's extremely late to meeting up with his drug dealer.

He redresses, grinning as he watches you ache from his ruthless fucking.

"Ice it." He cruelly demands. "I'll be back again when the house falls asleep."

You roll your eyes, reaching for your clean beach towel to wipe his cum from dripping down your thighs.

A phone begins to ring as you redress. You think that it's probably Barry calling Rafe's phone to see where he's been so held up at...

But it's not Rafe's phone, it's yours.

Rafe immediately beats you to the ringing iPhone. "Ohhhh?" He taunts. "An unsaved number? What are you being sneaky about?"

You snatch for your phone, angry that he keeps it high out of your reach. As he answers he tightly wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from fighting it.

Rafe answers your phone quietly, waiting for the caller to speak first.

"Hello?" The voice asks. "Y/n? Where are you? I thought you wanted me to come meet you halfway? Anyways, you know where we are! Bonfire at John B's baby! I already got the beer."

...

Rafe's blood boils.

Hearing a Pogue's voice has him heated. But hearing that out of all people, the voice belongs to JJ Maybank? It makes him furious.

He hangs up. "Getting drunk at John B's house, huh? My sister Sarah has you hanging with those fucking Pogues?"

"Give me my phone back!" You argue. "It isn't like that.."

"So then what is it like?" Rafe frowns. "You're fucking JJ Maybank?"

You scoff. "What is wrong with you? He's the only friend I've made here in Outerbanks. He waits tables with me at the Waterside restaurant."

"Oh does he now?" He taunts.

Rafe begins to laugh sarcastically. He suddenly snatches your arm into both of your views, forcing you to see how your skin is again riddled with goosebumps.

The same goosebumps that you get when indecent thoughts make you horny.

Fuck... He knows you better than you thought.

"Look at you." His jaw tightens. "You might not be fucking him, but you want too."

Your eyes widen and your large guilty irises give you away.

You are smitten with JJ, and you can't help it. He's the opposite of Rafe... He's kind, gentle, and extremely sweet to you.

You love his innocently dimpled smile. He's the largest crush you've had since you were in middle school and watched your first Justin Timberlake video.

"I guess I have to stop by John B's house tonight, huh? Pay a visit to JJ?" You're able to feel the heat raging off of Rafe's body.

You grab his arms, pleading for him not to make a scene. "No don't! Please, Rafe! What do you want? Aren't I giving you enough?"

"No." Rafe firmly grasps your wrists, flinging them away from touching him. "Block JJ's number, and stop talking to the fucking Pogues."

You agree, nodding as tears swell in your eyes.

"You live in this house, you're a fucking Kook!" His raised voice rains frightening screams upon you. "...Better yet, you're not even a Kook, you're mine.You're Rafe's, and if you continue to be hard headed and act like a fucking child, I'll release hell on Earth... you know that I can, and that I fucking will."

"Tell me you understand y/n, before I make you hate me even more." His voice lowers into a final threat.

You've seen him get rough with people, better yet, you've seen him already kick JJ's ass once for something that had nothing to do with you... doing it again would only make his day.

You gulp. "I get it Rafe, I understand."

...

Silence fills the room as he continues to gawk deviously over what is his, you.

Rafe wipes a fallen tear from your face. "Kiss me."

He tilts your chin to reach his lips and places the most tender kiss he has ever given you.

Rafe claims you as his as he grabs a handful of your ass, prying your sweetly soft lips apart as his tongue locks with yours. Rafe Cameron's tongue kiss is the only thing that has ever made your knees weak. Sadly, you can't decide if you still hate him or if his need to be possessive over you is actually causing you to love him.

[bedoballoons]

Had a thought of Lyney and Lynette finding angel reader with broken wings after a performance

- sorry if my English is bad

You're english isn't bad at all and I absolutely love your idea! The only thing I wasn't sure about is if one of the siblings was supposed to be a romantic interest or not, so just in case I kept the romance to a minimum! Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Falling~༺}

CW: Mentions of broken wings, reader is a angel!

(Includes: Lyney and Lynette!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney and Lynette:

"Lyney!" Lynette called out to her brother, her normally monotone voice suddenly filled with worry and fear, even with the crowd clapping in the background she could hear her own heart racing loudly in her chest. She couldn't take her eyes off of you...off of your wings that sprawled away from your body in crooked positions like a birds after it had crash landed..and your face that was so pale that if she didn't see your soft breathing she would have assumed you were dead.

Lyney hurried to his sisters aid, stopping mid step when he caught sight of you, "Lynette...what what is this?" She shook her head, not knowing how to answer as she kneeled down beside you, hand gently reaching out to touch your feathers. It caught her off guard...how real they were, how crazy this all was, "It sounds unbelievable...but Lyney these wings...are real. Is that even possible?"

The magician followed suit, kneeling beside his twin to examine up close...only to confirm her findings, "Well I suppose it has to be. I mean you have cat ears and a tail...who says a person can't have wings? Bright...white, beautiful wings. Reminds me of angels in story books." He carefully moved your wing, trying his best not inflict pain as he got it ready to be wrapped up. It was the least he could do after all their gawking and prodding, "Lynette could you get me some bandages?"

"...do you think they are actually a angel?" She looked at Lyney with magical glint in her eye, images of angels with halos and sweet smiles playing in her mind as she grabbed the first aid kit nearby. If you really were such a amazing creature...she secretly hoped you'd tell her all about it over a cup of tea and maybe even show her what your halo looked like.

"I'm not sure, I suppose we can ask them once they wake up. I was considering taking them to get medical assistance but...maybe it would be better to keep them a secret for now. I don't want them getting hurt more than they already have." Lyney was gentle with your wings, bandaging them up softly before lifting you off the ground and carrying you bridal style to a stage couch that had been left over from a previous show.

A slight blush coated his cheeks as took another look at your sleeping figure, you were beautiful in every sense of the word...hurt and broken but still somehow bright and goregous. He hoped you'd wake up soon so he could tell you as such and hopefully learn your name...maybe even how you had come to crash land outside, but for now he'd watch over you alongside his sister and remember all the stories of angels he'd ever read.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[deliciousangelfestival]

I Hate It When You're Drunk - 9

Character: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Summary: A forbidden romance between a princess and her bodyguard leads to a dramatic wedding, but their happiness is soon overshadowed by political intrigue and betrayal, testing their love and resolve.

I Hate It When You're Drunk Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on : Ko-fi 🙏🏻please, please please.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Watching the former queen leave the palace felt surreal. But seeing the king lose his composure, even for a moment, made it all worth it.

Perhaps Alicia's return stirred something in Leonard. Did her presence remind him of who he used to be? Does he feel guilt for taking the life of the former king and his siblings?

Leonard clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated, but he couldn't do anything since she was a diplomatic guest.

"Welcome to the family," he said, tapping Bucky's shoulder. "As of today, you're officially part of royalty."

Bucky stood tall, his expression composed despite the turmoil of the evening. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do my best to honor the family name and uphold my duties."

Leonard gave a curt nod, his gaze still clouded. "Now, go find my daughter. She must be shocked by the uninvited guest."

Bucky nodded and quickly left to find you.

He asked one of the guards outside, "Where is she?"

The guard hesitated, clearly nervous. "She went back to her chambers, sir," he stuttered, quickly correcting himself. "I'm sorry—Your Majesty."

Bucky didn't waste another moment. He hurried down the corridor toward your chambers, the tension from the evening still weighing on him. When he reached your door, he found the room shrouded in darkness. The only light came from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the window.

His eyes fell on you, lying across the bed, already passed out from the alcohol. He sighed heavily, a mix of relief and sorrow flooding him. Today was supposed to be the day both of you had longed for, the day that sealed your love. But it didn't feel that way—not with all the chaos and the looming weight of what had happened.

Walking over quietly, Bucky knelt beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your tear-streaked face. His hand lingered on your cheek, and his heart ached for you. You had endured so much, and now, instead of celebrating together, you were drowning in grief and confusion.

He gently wiped away the remnants of tears. He wanted to protect you from all this, but somehow, it all seemed to follow you both, no matter how hard he tried. Today should have been filled with joy, yet it felt as if the very world had turned its back on the happiness you deserved.

👑👑👑👑

The next morning, you woke with a pounding headache, groaning as the light filtered through the curtains. As you blinked your eyes open, you noticed several servants standing around your bed, their faces full of uncertainty.

"Why are you all surrounding me like this?" you asked, your voice groggy.

"Your Highness," one of the servants said nervously, "today... you're scheduled to leave for your honeymoon?"

You widened your eyes in shock and threw your head back onto the pillow with a frustrated sigh. The last thing you wanted right now was a honeymoon. You felt exhausted—mentally and physically.

"Where is my husband?" you muttered, rubbing your temples to ease the headache.

"With the king," the servant replied.

"Fuck," you murmured under your breath.

Reluctantly, you got out of bed, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. The servants hurried to help you get ready, brushing your hair, and helping you into a more appropriate outfit for the day. But despite their efforts, you felt sluggish, your mood foul as you tugged on your shoes and stormed out of the room.

You ran through the halls toward the dining room, your steps quick and determined. As you pushed the heavy doors open, you were greeted by the sight of King Leonard and your newlywed husband, Bucky, sitting together at the table. The tension between them was palpable, though Bucky remained composed.

Leonard’s eyes flicked toward you as you entered, his smirk just as arrogant as ever. “Ah, here comes the bride. I trust you slept well?” he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.

You shot him a sharp look. “Not particularly,” you muttered.

Leonard chuckled lightly, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Well, I suppose you’ll have plenty of time to rest on your honeymoon. You’re leaving shortly, after all. I wish you both a safe and pleasant trip.”

Bucky stood up, offering you his arm, his expression neutral though you could feel the tension radiating from him. “Shall we?” he asked quietly.

You hesitated for a moment but then linked your arm with his, glancing up at him. Together, the two of you walked toward the palace doors, with Leonard trailing behind. As expected, a crowd of press and citizens had gathered outside, their cheers and shouts echoing across the courtyard. They were here for the young newlywed couple—their eyes full of admiration and hope for a perfect royal love story.

Though you still felt tired and irritated, you forced a smile, waving at the crowd. Bucky followed suit, his arm still linked with yours as he raised his hand to acknowledge the people.

Once you reached the helicopter, the cheers faded into the background. Bucky slid into his seat, fastening his seatbelt, but he could feel the cold air between you. You had been giving him the silent treatment, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

As you reached for your own seatbelt, it was Leonard who stepped in to assist you. You let him fasten it, though the gesture felt awkward. You looked up at him, narrowing your eyes.

“Stay at peace while I'm gone,” you warned, your tone sharp but laced with exhaustion.

Leonard chuckled, his grin smug. “You never know,” he said, his voice low with hidden meaning.

You glared at him one last time before settling into your seat, the sound of the helicopter’s blades whirring loudly as it prepared for takeoff. Though you were now on your way to what was supposed to be a joyful honeymoon, the weight of everything lingered in the air between you and Bucky.

As the helicopter soared through the sky, the silence between you and Bucky was thick and heavy. He glanced over at you several times, noticing how your eyes were already closed, your head resting against the seat. You looked peaceful, but he knew better. There was a tension beneath that calm exterior—a storm waiting to break.

Bucky’s emotions were all over the place. He had thought this day would be different. After all the time you both had waited, after the struggles and secret glances, this was supposed to be your moment.

But instead, it felt hollow. His chest tightened as he replayed everything that had happened, from the uninvited guest to the strange distance you now put between the two of you. He couldn’t help but feel helpless, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had suddenly grown.

On the other hand, you were drowning in your own thoughts. Behind your closed eyelids, memories of the past day swirled in your mind. Everything felt off. You were supposed to be celebrating your love, but it felt like the world around you was falling apart.

After what felt like hours, the helicopter began its descent, landing softly on a lush green field. You opened your eyes to see the sprawling beauty of the resort that would be your honeymoon destination.

You had hoped for somewhere far away, but Leonard had other plans, citing safety concerns. At least this place was special—a resort with several private islands. It was supposed to be a romantic getaway, secluded from the rest of the world.

The resort’s staff greeted you and Bucky with utmost care, ensuring everything was perfect for the newlywed royal couple. After checking that everything was in place, the managers and employees finally left, leaving the two of you alone on your private island.

The air between you remained tense as Bucky stood near the window, watching you move around the room. The silence was deafening.

“Are you going to continue ignoring me?” Bucky’s voice broke the quiet, his tone low but firm.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you walked over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of rum, searching through the ice bucket. Your hands moved mechanically, trying to find something to numb the unease creeping up your spine.

Suddenly, Bucky grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Stop it,” he said softly but with authority. His blue eyes searched yours. “I’ll answer it. Whatever you need to know, just ask.”

You paused, the rum bottle slipping from your grasp and landing with a soft thud on the counter. Your chest rose and fell with frustration.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning to face him fully, but the hurt in your eyes was unmistakable.

Bucky exhaled deeply, his grip loosening but not letting go completely. Both of you stood there, a heartbeat away from what could either be a breakthrough or another layer of distance.

Both of you sat across from each other, the tension in the room palpable. Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to find the right words. His eyes locked onto yours, determined, but there was also a flicker of doubt. He knew he couldn’t drag this out any longer.

"I started the coup d'état," he finally said, his voice low but steady.

The moment those words left his mouth, it felt like a thunderclap in your ears. Your heart pounded as you processed the confession, your mind racing to catch up with the weight of what he had just said.

"Bucky, what the fuck?" you snapped, disbelief and anger flashing in your eyes.

“I know... I know,” Bucky said quickly, holding his hands up as if to calm the rising storm. "But we—I mean, me and the others—had one goal: to make the king step down. That’s it.”

You let out a frustrated groan, rubbing your temples as if that could somehow ease the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “Bucky, I love you to death, but what you did was stupid.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Excuse me?” he shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I did it for us! And for the victims of that tyrant king!”

You couldn’t deny the truth in his words. The king—your father—had left a trail of victims in his wake. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you recalled the horror that had befallen your family. “The king killed his three older siblings, along with their spouses and children,” you said, your voice trembling. “My cousins... they’re all gone because of him.”

Bucky’s gaze softened, hearing the pain in your voice, but he didn’t speak. He knew the reality of your father’s cruelty, but it was different hearing it from you.

“He was a no one,” you continued, your voice thick with disbelief. “And yet he became the king that everyone fears.” You stared at the ground, the weight of your father’s reign heavy on your shoulders. “He knew his weaknesses, and the people who supported him exploited them.”

"What made me even more furious," you continued, your voice sharp with betrayal, "is that I’m the future queen, yet I had no idea what was happening in my own country. My husband turned out to be the leader of a coup d’état, and my father—the tyrant king—knew it before I did!"

You lifted your head, locking eyes with Bucky, frustration lacing your tone. “I’m your wife, but you left me in the dark!”

Bucky’s eyes widened, his mouth opening to defend himself, but you weren’t finished.

Your words hung in the air like a dark cloud. Bucky looked at you, his expression torn between regret and defiance. You both sat there in a tense silence for a moment, the weight of everything settling between you.

Finally, you sighed, leaning back in your chair as exhaustion overtook your frustration. “I’ve been living in a bubble,” you admitted quietly.

Bucky leaned forward, his voice soft but filled with conviction. “I didn’t want to leave you out of it. I thought... I thought I was protecting you.”

He ran a hand through his hair again, clearly struggling with the gravity of the situation. “I did it for us—for a better future. You know the kind of man your father is. I couldn’t just sit by and let him continue.”

You looked at him, the raw emotion in his eyes matching your own. Despite everything, you knew his intentions had come from a place of love, no matter how misguided they were.

“I get it,” you said, your voice softer now. “I understand why you did what you did. But you should have trusted me, Bucky. I should’ve been part of this.”

Bucky reached out, taking your hands in his. “You’re right,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you.”

You squeezed his hands, feeling some of the tension start to dissolve. “We’re supposed to face things together, not alone,” you said softly.

“I know. And from now on, we will,” Bucky promised, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles.

You both sat there for a moment, the silence no longer oppressive but comforting. You had reached an understanding, even if the road ahead was still uncertain. There was still love between you—love strong enough to survive even this.

As the tension between you and Bucky began to ease, you both found solace in the quiet moments of your honeymoon. Finally, it was just the two of you, no more secrets or unspoken words hanging over your heads. The weight of everything slowly lifted as you immersed yourselves in the beauty of the private island.

The days were filled with a tranquil bliss, the warm sun kissing your skin as you and Bucky strolled along the secluded beaches. The turquoise waves lapped gently at the shore, creating a soothing backdrop to your peaceful escape. You’d often find yourselves on the balcony of your villa, overlooking the ocean, wrapped in each other's arms as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange.

Bucky had his arm around you as you leaned into his chest, both of you quietly enjoying the view. “I wish we could stay like this forever,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

“Me too,” you agreed, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. For the first time in a long while, you felt safe and content, the weight of the past slowly fading into the background.

You and Bucky spent your days exploring the island—swimming in the crystal-clear waters, relaxing in hammocks under the shade of palm trees, and sharing intimate dinners under the stars. His laughter was lighter now, and your smiles were genuine. There was no need to rush; this one month of vacation belonged to the two of you.

At night, Bucky would hold you close as the two of you talked about the future, making plans that seemed so far away now but filled you both with hope. The warmth of his body, the way he kissed your forehead before you both drifted to sleep—it made everything feel right again.

But on the last day of your honeymoon, that peace was shattered.

The morning had started quietly enough. After breakfast, you and Bucky curled up on the couch, flipping through the channels on the TV. As you turned on the news, something caught your attention. The usual cheerful headlines were gone, replaced by the stark seriousness of a breaking news broadcast.

The image of King Leonard, standing behind a podium, filled the screen. The sight of him immediately sent a chill down your spine. You could feel the air shift, the sense of foreboding creeping in.

Leonard stepped closer to the microphone, his expression grim. He paused for a moment, scanning the audience, before leaning in and saying, “We’re going to war.”

Your heart stopped. For a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

"What the fuck?" you and Bucky blurted out at the same time, both of you staring at the screen in disbelief.

Bucky's face hardened, his hands clenching into fists. "This can't be happening," he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he stood up, pacing in front of the TV.

You swallowed hard, trying to process what you just heard, but dread weighed heavily on your chest. The peaceful bubble of your honeymoon had been shattered, replaced by a terrifying uncertainty. War meant everything would change—and not for the better.

Bucky stopped pacing and looked at you, his eyes filled with concern. “We need to go back.”

You nodded slowly, your mind racing. “I knew something was off,” you murmured, fear creeping into your voice. “But war?”

Neither of you could believe it, yet the reality was there, staring at you from the screen.

The honeymoon was over.

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[physalian]

Writing Tone #2: Avoiding Manufactured Sincerity

There’s a scene in season 5 of My Hero Academia where two beloved teachers have been brought to some high security prison to interrogate a captured villain that turns out to be a brainwashed childhood friend of theirs. The scene is really dramatic, these two teachers are screaming at this guy, heartbroken, and when I saw the episode (shortly before quitting the entire show mid-episode over how bored I was) I was not at all as outraged and horrified as they were.

It was so tonally jarring, and so unfounded within the plot, that it was almost uncomfortable to watch. The villain they’re interrogating isn’t unfamiliar, but the plot-twist-surprise childhood friend is a stranger no one but these two care about.

I didn’t care, couldn’t empathize with why they were upset, knew nothing about their relationship with the guy beyond the ham-handed flashbacks given right that moment. I wasn’t prepared to mourn the loss of this random character, wasn’t primed ahead of time with the idea that this was a possibility to dread the scene before it happened. I was just waiting for it to be over and when it finally was, the impact it had on me was a resounding: Well that was weird. Now back to the plot.

Unfounded sincerity is the uncomfortably ugly step-sibling of plots that are starved of sincerity—look at most of Phase 4, but really, starting with Thor: Ragnarok in the MCU. Many Marvel properties are afraid to embrace the emotional moments and resort to bad jokes to laugh at themselves before the audience can laugh at them. Because how dare a late-stage superhero story about mythical gods be at all sincere in its relationships, its quiet moments, its tragedies. Nope, time for jokes.

Unfounded sincerity is when a story goes far harder with the drama, the love-declarations, the angst, the humor, where it’s trying really hard to convince the audience to care and it just isn’t working.

This happens when arguments start out of nowhere, as well, when characters explode at each other in a heated screaming match that hasn’t been left to fester for nearly long enough, undercooked and hard to swallow.

This happens when characters fall suddenly, madly in love with each other with zero dubious intervention to explain away the sudden passion.

It happens particularly when characters care a whole heck of a lot about someone the audience doesn’t, at the expense of characters the audience is invested in.

It happens when characters have emotional breakdowns and start crying over what ends up reading like spilled milk. When stoic and strong characters break over something they normally would never, for ~drama~.

This is usually both a tone and pacing issue, and a serious case of telling. The author hasn’t done any of the work ramping up a situation or relationship for proper delivery of these emotionally charged moments that are written like critical character beats we’re supposed to care deeply about.

So how does this happen?

1. The author *really* wants this scene, but writes it too early into the story

Unless there’s foul play involved, or this is a romantic comedy that isn’t supposed to be a realistic and healthy depiction of how romance works, characters suddenly declaring love for each other at the cost of their own well-being, their own character arc and journey, and their other motivations can be very frustrating to read.

But the author wants to get to the Good Stuff, so they coast on the “male + female leads = relationship” expectation without writing the why (and so ensures the rise of so many gay ships in the process). Or the male + male leads” or what have you.

2. The author cannot fluidly change tone and characters explode, instead of simmer

An argument that comes out of nowhere can really take your audience out of a scene. Your characters suddenly look ridiculous and your audience can’t follow what’s going on or why they’re so upset. This is different than a character exploding seemingly out of nowhere, but who we know has been building resentment for dozens of pages and loses it over something otherwise inconsequential.

These scenes are painfully, obviously there for manufactured drama and don’t feel natural. These characters don’t feel like people, but playthings, action figures manipulated by the hands of the author.

3. The characters involved are underdeveloped

As in the My Hero scene mentioned above, of the three characters in the scene, the “friend” we’re supposed to care about is a non-entity. The two teachers could have lost their minds over this guy’s sudden death, or the reveal that he turned traitor, or that he murdered younglings and puppies and kittens, to the same emotional impact, because we don’t care about this guy (or, I don’t, at least. I didn’t, and shouldn’t have to read the manga).

You can of course have characters who grieve non-entities, like the fridged wife trope. The difference is the audience knows we’re not supposed to know or care about that lady and the character she never was. This happens pre-plot, not mid-season 5. The frigid wife is the catalyst for the character we then come to know, not a character whose death radically changes our heroes from the people we’ve already established.

4. The tonal jump is just too extreme from the established rules of the story

Abrupt changes in tone can be very tricky to pull off, and almost always fail when it surrounds an abrupt shift in character dynamics (as opposed to something more plot-related). As in, your lighthearted comedy suddenly stops the plot so two characters can scream at each other, when this level of emotional charge hasn’t been established as a possibility.

Or the aforementioned emotional breakdown that just leaves audiences uncomfortable like the awkward friend trying to soothe a weeping companion.

—

Unfortunately, the fixes to these situations are either delete that entire scene, or go back and do a lot of rewriting so there’s enough build-up to justify its existence. Go back and write in that simmering resentment, all the little frustrations, a pre-existing tension within the relationship that is always primed to snap.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder and there’s a reason the “slowburn” is so popular. Setting out from the beginning to write a fast-paced, passionate romance tells your readers to expect exaggerated displays of emotion.

My favorite musical is Moulin Rouge. This movie is insane. Everyone is hyperbolically emotional and nothing is half-assed. The dances, the belting singing, the costumes, set-design, editing, the declarations of love– they’re all dialed up to 11. So characters screaming their love or rage from the rooftops is a *lot* but you’re prepared for it from the opening scene, knowing exactly what kind of movie this is.

Even if you don’t start your story with the level of drama it will eventually reach, there should still be some sort of progression when it comes to character drama.

Last Airbender didn’t open episode 2 with the emotional intensity of Zuko and Azula’s last Agni Kai… but it did show you that this isn’t just a lighthearted comedy in episode 3, with the reveal of Gyatso’s body and Aang’s violently emotional reaction.

Speaking of episode 3, they didn’t throw in Gyatso out of nowhere. We know from the show so far that a) Aang is the last of his kind, and b) he doesn’t know this. Everything leading up to this reveal is lighthearted, sure, but with that undercurrent of dread, waiting for Aang to see for himself, waiting for that other shoe to drop.

So some things to keep in mind are:

Prime the audience with dropping that first shoe, make them aware of the building tension (romantic, aggressive, grief, or otherwise), even if not all the characters are aware.

Build that tension. If your characters will eventually explode, let them be mildly irritated first, then annoyed, then frustrated, then angry, then raging until they can’t contain it anymore.

Make sure every party involved in this dramatic moment is someone the audience actually cares about, not just someone they’re told to care about.

TL;DR: Don’t pull the trigger prematurely. It’s most obvious with suddenly passionate arguments, characters flinging insults and hurts the audience isn’t prepared for and doesn’t know about, in effort to move the plot along before it’s fully cooked.

So unless there’s some drugs or fairy magic involved, or one of these characters has a gun to their head forcing them to do this right now, people don’t just explode in a rage without some buildup first. People can explode in a rage over a seemingly inconsequential and unrelated thing, but they’re likely already upset and this one little thing is the final straw. Audiences love the anticipation of what that final straw will be, and whether the explosive drama is rage or romance, “slowburn” is immensely popular for a reason.

[swarvey]

paper rings | harvey x f!reader

summary -> you get yourself a partner for the flower dance; harvey lets his imagination roam wild. warnings -> very mild hints of nsfw wc -> 2861

a/n: lowkey writing this chapter was sm fun. enjoy!! we're getting into the thick of it now >:)

ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6

paper rings masterlist

chapter five: you belong with me -> "been here all along, so why can't you see?"

“He’s dancing with who? ”

You looked at Haley with big eyes as she nonchalantly filed her nails. Emily, whom you’d learned was her older sister, continued to braid her blue hair, while Leah worked on her latest sculpture in the corner. The artist had invited the three of you to her cottage to spend some time together, to your surprise — from the small conversations you’d had with her throughout the season, she seemed to be pretty reserved. After running into her and the sisters more than a handful of times, though, she must have warmed up to all of you.

“His nurse,” the blonde repeated, her tone bored and monotone. “This is old news, keep up.”

“I only got here a few weeks ago,” you sighed, slumping down in your seat. “How was I supposed to know?”

“Haley, be nice,” Emily scolded lightly, walking over to Leah and admiring her work. 

The Spring season had flown by quicker than you anticipated, though it felt fulfilling to know you had accomplished so much in such a short period of time. Your once weed and debris-ridden farm was completely cleared, replaced with plots of crops. You made sure to leave some open spaces for the animals you were planning on getting, excited to take the next step in your farmer life.

Throughout the past few weeks, you’d gotten closer to Haley and her sister. The blue-haired girl was closer to your age, though her personality was a stark contrast compared to her younger sibling. She was open and expressive, while Haley was typically moody and blunt. Both of them were kind to you, though, and it was refreshing to talk to people you could at least somewhat relate to.

Obviously, you had Harvey, too. The two of you made sure to get dinner with each other at least once every week to make up for your lost time together, never once mentioning romance again. Instead, you easily fell back into rhythm with him, old jokes resurfacing and memories continuously being shared. You’d nearly forgotten what good company he made; he never interrupted you, and always made sure to ask about your day.

Better than any boyfriend you had, anyway.

“She’s just jealous because she has a crush on him.”

The comment snapped you back into the current conversation, head quickly turning to look at Haley. She had a knowing smirk on your face as you began to blush. 

“Honestly, you sound like a high schooler,” you huffed, turning away. “I’m just not used to the thought of Harvey liking someone, that’s all. It’s like knowing my brother has a girlfriend.”

“Right,” she responded, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “So, you’re not jealous?”

“No, I’m not.”

“And you’re not interested in dancing with someone? Y’know, just to see how he reacts?”

Silence.

Emily and Leah looked at you with similar expressions, brows raised and curiosity in their eyes.

“No, no way,” you laughed, as if she’d said a joke. “I mean, seriously? Who would do that?”

“I would,” Haley said without hesitation. “The worst that can happen is that he gets a little jealous, so what?”

“There is no way Harvey of all people would get jealous over something like that.”

“So do it.”

You looked at her with narrowed eyes, trying to think of a rational reply. She shrugged, not even bothering to look up at you.

Emily cleared her throat. “Well, it would be nice to see you dance,” she said, though there was a mischievous edge to her words. “You’d look beautiful in one of those dresses.”

You eyed Leah for her opinion, but she simply shook her head, continuing her work. “Don’t drag me into this,” she said, squinting at her woodwork. “I’m done messing around with guys.”

“You literally dance with Elliott every year,” Haley noted, pausing her filing to give her a deadpan stare.

“Elliott and I are friends, that’s all,” she replied, her voice final. “Besides, after what happened last time, I think I’m over boys completely.”

“You mean, you don’t think you’ll date again?” you asked.

“I never said that.”

Emily blinked in surprise. Haley hummed in approval, resuming her previous acts. Leah blushed slightly, though you gave her a reassuring smile and shrugged.

“Who am I going to dance with, anyway?” you questioned. “I mean, doesn’t everyone in town have a partner already?”

“I doubt Shane will do it,” Emily sighed, crossing her arms. “He only dances with me because Marnie forces him to every year.”

“I don’t know if Elliott will, either,” Leah added. “He’s a bit . . . particular.”

Haley dropped the file beside her, a tired breath escaping her as she wordlessly picked up her phone. 

You tilted your head. “What are you—”

“Alex, where are you?” A pause. “Come over to Leah’s. Now.”

The three of you gave amused glances to each other as Haley hung up, obviously annoyed by whatever Alex had said on the phone.

A few minutes later, the jock showed up to the cottage, roughly knocking twice before opening the door. Upon seeing the four of you sitting in Leah’s living room, he stopped suddenly in the doorway.

“Uh, am I . . . supposed to be here?” he asked.

“Just get in and shut the door,” Haley snapped. 

Sighing and mumbling something about her “not having to be so mean all the time,” Alex made his way over to all of you, awkwardly scratching the side of his head.

“You’re gonna dance with her this year,” she said, pointing her thumb at you.

“What?!” He quickly looked between you and her, dumbfounded by her remark. “Haley, why would I do that?! I don’t even remember this girl’s name!”

“I don’t doubt it,” you muttered, and Emily laughed.

“Listen up!” Haley stood, and despite being a solid few inches taller than her with a much larger build, Alex flinched, seeming to shrink away. “ You are dancing with her because, quite frankly, I’m sick of dancing with you!”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “It means, we’ve been doing the same thing for years now, and I’m bored. I don’t want to do it, so I’m sitting out.”

“But you never—” She glared at him, daring him to finish his sentence. Instead, he let out a short breath of defeat. “Fine.” He turned to you, undeniably uninterested. “What’s your name again?”

“Y/N,” you replied, equally as flat-toned. “Thanks.”

“Sure, I guess. Can I go now?” You felt a little bad for him, especially since he looked like a kicked puppy,  but you knew him well enough that he’d bounce back within the hour. Haley nodded, and he quickly made his way out of the cottage.

“Actually, we should get going, too,” Emily said, checking the clock. “We still have to make dinner.” With that, her and her sister made their goodbyes, leaving you and Leah alone.

“You know,” she started, wiping her hands on her pants and looking at you with a smile, “she must really like you if she went to those lengths for you. I don’t think Haley’s ever sat out of the Flower Dance.”

You nodded, chewing your lip. “Yeah, well . . .” You trailed off, your head being filled with thoughts of Harvey and the words he’d said before.

“I guess we’ll see how it goes.”

-

Harvey anxiously fiddled with his tie as everyone began to arrive at the festival, brushing a hand through his hair.

Shane stood beside him and scoffed. “Seriously, you’re acting like we’re at your wedding. Calm down, doc.”

“Yes, I know, I just . . . I want to look put together.” For you, he wanted to add, but kept his mouth shut. “I can’t believe she’s going to see me do this dance,” he mumbled, not even having to say your name for his friend to know who he was talking about.

“If I can do this every year in front of Jas, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he replied, looking at his goddaughter with a fond look on his face. Those were the only moments where Harvey saw the typically stoic man soften. 

“Before you know it, she and Vincent will be old enough to participate themselves, you know,” he said, hiding his smile when Shane scowled and whipped his head towards him.

“Like hell, she will,” he retorted, giving her friend a death stare. “That kid better watch it. He does anything to Jas and I swear I’ll—”

“Ah, my glorious friends! How are you this fine morning?”

Harvey and Shane nearly toppled over as Elliott appeared in between them, balancing them with his arms wrapped around their shoulders. Harvey was sure he heard the man next to him mutter some not-so-kind comments under his breath, but ignored them.

“It was fine, up until a few seconds ago,” Shane snapped, ducking out of his hold. “How are you always so damn chipper at every hour of the day?”

Elliott stood up straight proudly, his healthy hair shining in the light. “You see, this is what the magnificent tool of sleep can provide you. With proper vitamins and a good night’s sleep, anyone can be as energetic as a hare.”

“What is this, a fuckin’ ad?” 

“He’s not wrong,” Harvey chimed, making Shane grumble and walk away towards Jas.

“Ah, I’m afraid I have some news to share with you, my friend,” Elliott started, turning to look at him with a slightly worried look on his face.

Curious, Harvey opened his mouth to question him, but was interrupted by the sound of Emily gasping loudly and calling out your name. 

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.

He watched as you walked into the festival wearing a flowy white dress, flowers intertwined into your hair. He swore he felt his heart jump at the sight, unimaginable thoughts racing through his head as he wondered what it would’ve been like to be by your side then, or even before at home helping you put the dress on, drunk on the sight of your exposed skin—

Wait.

Harvey’s imagination went blank when he saw Alex by your side, saying something to you to make you laugh. Certainly he was dreaming, right? He’d seen you just the other day, and you had never once mentioned anything about the aspiring gridball player. Was he even your type? Was that what you were looking for? If so, his hopes were out the door. 

“Harvey? You okay?”

As he blinked back into focus, Harvey realized Maru was now standing in front of him, concern written all over her features. He turned to glance at Elliott confusedly — noting how he was anxiously biting his fist before mouthing him a sorry — before giving his nurse a kind smile, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder.

“Yes, sorry, something just . . . came to mind,” he lied. “You look amazing, Maru. Thank you for dancing with me again.”

She laughed. “You don’t have to thank me every year, Harvey, it’s not like I’m doing this against my will. I like dancing with you.” Her face flushed slightly at her last sentence, though he paid it no mind. He was more interested in your figure walking over to him, a lopsided smile on your face.

“Hey, Maru,” you greeted, an ounce of tension in your tone. 

Though, Maru didn’t seem to notice, smiling brightly back at you. “Hey! You look great, you’re paired up with Alex, right?”

“That’s right!” His jaw tensed at your despicably happy mood. “Haley wasn’t too interested in dancing this year, so he decided to ask me.”

A lie . Harvey knew you well enough by then to tell when you were lying, and he felt it immediately as the words left your mouth. Why, though? What were you doing? Or, more so, what part were you lying about?

“Cool,” the nurse replied simply, completely oblivious. “Well, I think we’re about to start, so how about we all get lined up?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You jumped slightly when Harvey pulled you back by your arm, trying his best not to be swayed by your looks as he scanned your face.

“What?” you laughed, feigning innocence. “Is there something on my face?”

He shook his head quickly, blushing before letting you go. “No, it’s just . . . I didn’t expect you to be dancing, is all.”

“Well, someone didn’t ask me,” you teased, making any words get caught in his throat. “I’m kidding, Harvs. Alex just needed someone to dance with.”

Another lie. “I see.” 

“Harvey, come on!” He waved to Maru in acknowledgment, giving you one last look before beginning to walk away.

“You, uh, you look stunning, Y/N,” he managed, turning so he couldn’t see your reaction.

As the music began to play, Harvey’s body easily began to move with it, remembering each step after years of doing the same movements. The only difference, though, was your body in his line of sight, Alex’s arm wrapped around the small of your back. 

A familiar feeling started to rise from his gut. He recognized it as how he felt in the saloon the first day you’d gotten to Pelican Town, telling him shortly about your previous relationships. He didn’t like how it made him feel, not at all, but he couldn’t resist it as he observed you. What kind of cruel game was the universe playing? 

Alex looked down at you, giving you a small, unexpectedly shy smile. You grinned back.

That should be me. The singular thought raced through his head as the music swelled, Maru twirling under his arm in front of him. His eyes stayed on you, breaths becoming hot with jealousy. You should be with me, not him.

Then, as everyone entered the last part of the dance, you tripped on your dress, nearly falling backward. Harvey tensed, and if it weren’t for Maru already leaning back on his arms, he would have lunged for you. 

It didn’t matter, though, as Alex had already caught you, his face inches away from yours as you panted heavily.

As everyone applauded, Harvey gently let go of the girl in his arms, looking away and taking a couple deep breaths to still himself. How was this happening? Did you enjoy seeing him suffer? 

Apparently, you did, as you lingered in Alex’s arms after standing up. He watched as Emily and Haley greeted you with smiles, even Leah walking up to compliment you. No one seemed as taken aback by the situation as he was, though that was of no surprise to him. 

“Seriously, Harvey,” Maru said, and he realized she was standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. “You don’t look too hot. It wouldn’t look too good if the town’s doctor got sick, would it?”

Harvey cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. I think it’d be best for me to go a bit early, then.” She nodded in agreement. Guilt ate at him as he walked away — he felt terrible for leaving Maru there alone, but she was right. Although he didn’t have the kind of sickness she was thinking of, he was obviously not in the right state of mind to be interacting with people who mostly saw him as a pillar of stability.

Just as he escaped the forest area, a voice called his name, his eyes widening as he recognized it immediately. 

“Where are you going? Everyone’s still there,” you asked. You had a leaf sticking to the front of your dress and your face was blushed from running to him. 

If you were his, he would’ve dragged you home with him, making good riddance of that damned piece of clothing before showing you just what you did to him. 

Instead, he walked forward a couple of steps and plucked the leaf off, allowing it to drop out of his hand easily.

“I’m not feeling very well,” he said, voice thick and gravely. You looked at him with another new look in your eyes, though he couldn’t decipher what that one meant. Were you upset? Confused?

Or were you interested in the sound of his jealousy-filled tone?

“Right,” you replied shortly, nodding. “You should go get some rest, then.”

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner?”

“You know the drill.”

With that, Harvey turned back around, almost in a daze as he resumed his journey home. As soon as he got in his apartment, he fell to the ground in exhaustion, swiftly loosening his tie as he leaned back on his door for support. His thoughts were filled with the image of you dancing with the jock, except he imagined it was himself by your side, swaying to the music with your hand entangled with his. Then, of course, there were the thoughts of what would come after; after he’d walk you home, after he would lock the front door, after he’d shrug off his suit and push you onto the bed, lifting the dress and exploring what was underneath. 

At that moment, Harvey knew it was hopeless.

He would trade anything, go to opposite ends of the earth, if it meant you’d be with him.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I have many thoughts on this.

First and foremost, Wukong has extra stones. Since the pendants don't just represent the bond between a mated pair. It's supposed to represent the Monkey themselves in a way too, their family history and those important to them. It isn't uncommon for parents to weave pieces of their own stones into their child's pendant, so when that child gives away their pendant, it's not just to initiate courtship but to officially invite their mat into their family troupe and give a piece of both themselves and their lineage to the other monkey. I imagine Shitougushi had been the one to teach Wukong how to braid and weave his fur, and had added pieces of his own stone, and perhaps a piece of Jade his mother had left him. As for Ye Lin, unfortunately Shitougushi does not have any of his stone, but he knew what it looked like from Shíhua's marriage pendant (which was buried with her) and could fashion a replica.

Macaque, who knows nothing of his lineage and had no such relics form his parents to weave into his pendant, simply chose a simple pendant, but he had a slightly more complicated and secure braid to keep it together to make up for that. I imagine that Macaque had spent hours using hours deliberating over the perfect stone until Chang'e eventually had to step in and tell him to just pick one before he loses his chance and loses the famous 'Peaches' he'd been talking her ears off about for years! She's a romantic and understands the importance of picking the right stone. She gets it, but at some point, it's just delaying the decision. When she later sees Wukong with the pendant during his trial and execution, it had taken all her self control not to intervene when she spotted him clutching to his necklace.

@soniclozdplove;

(Prev Century Stone Egg post)

We were discussing the designs in messages! I love the idea if Wukong's pendant including his parents' stones + the Elder Shitougushi (you know that old stone monkey smiling hard when Shihou asks to include him in the pendant's design).

Wukong using his pendant as the ultimate show of trust towards Macaque, welcoming him into not only his troop but to the life/knowledge of what they both are.

And ofc Macaque being dense at first and not realising the significance until Elder (+ the stone monkey spirits of FFM) smacks him over the head, explaining how much the pendant means to Wukong. Macaque then panicking and running/shadow portal-ing to his sister's place to ask for help choosing part of his birth stone real quick. XD

I love Chang'e being the sibling who's waiting impatiently as Macaque chooses a "wedding ring", but is overjoyed to see him do the exchange! And oh! Her seeing the pendant on Wukong so many years later, especially during his original Trial for the Havoc, and later after Macaque's passing during Jttw when they met in India, and even later still in the modern day, and trying her best not to squee at the romance of it all!

And oohhh Chang'e wanting to intervene during Wukong's original trial/executions in Heaven, but not having the power to do so as a goddess pretty much on house arrest.

The pendants just mean so much to these monkeys, its no wonder that for the longest time the celestials believed that the black-corded amethyst on Sun Wukong's neck was his secret to immortality.

Tysm for this as always! ^_^

[novaursa]

Part 2

- Note: This work was fully published on AO3, so expect steady updates. I'll post regularly to engage more readers.

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word Count: 9 000+

- Parts: 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Final

In the quiet sanctum of the Red Keep’s library, the flickering candlelight illuminated rows of ancient tomes and scrolls. Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Vaella sat around a large wooden table, listening to Maester Mellos. The rare presence of Aegon in such a studious environment, with Kingsguard standing watch nearby, was an unusual sight. However, Aegon paid little attention to the lessons, his focus entirely on Vaella. He sat beside her, absentmindedly playing with her long, pale hair, winding it around his fingers.

Maester Mellos, already irked by Aegon’s lack of interest, glanced over and cleared his throat pointedly. "Prince Aegon, please pay attention. This is important history."

Aegon gave a dismissive shrug, his fingers still entwined in Vaella's hair. "I’m listening," he lied, though his eyes never left Vaella.

Vaella cast a sidelong glance at Aegon, her lips curving into a small, amused smile. She had grown used to his antics, even if they occasionally annoyed her. The atmosphere was tense, broken only by the rustling of parchment and the occasional exasperated sigh from Maester Mellos.

The door to the library opened, and Alicent Hightower stepped in. She looked at her three children and said, "Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, come with me. Your father wants to speak with you."

Alicent’s gaze lingered on Vaella, her expression unreadable. Vaella sensed a hint of disappointment, though she knew it wasn't directed at her. She remained seated as Maester Mellos resumed his lesson, clearly uncomfortable with Vaella’s presence but bound by duty to continue.

Aegon looked at Vaella, his expression one of reluctance. He seemed ready to protest, but Alicent’s stern gaze silenced him. He hung his head and reluctantly stood, following his mother and siblings out of the library. Vaella watched them go, a sense of unease settling in her chest.

Alicent led her children to King Viserys’s chambers. The King, looking more frail than ever, sat propped up with cushions, his face lined with weariness. He smiled weakly as his children entered, though the gravity of the moment was clear.

"I have come to a decision," Viserys began, his voice thin but firm. "Aegon, you will marry Helaena. This union will strengthen our family and bring stability."

Aegon automatically stiffened, his face contorting with anger. "What?" he barked, unable to contain his outrage. "No, I will not marry Helaena! She should be wed to either Aemond or Daeron, call him back from Oldtown. I will marry Vaella."

Viserys opened his mouth to respond, but Aegon continued, his voice growing louder. "I will not marry Helaena. Vaella is the only one I will wed." He turned to his mother for support, but Alicent averted her gaze, her expression pained. It was clear her voice had not been heard, and she disagreed with her husband's decision.

Viserys sighed weakly, his eyes closing briefly as if summoning the strength to continue. "Vaella will be wed to a noble lord to further our House's standing. This is my final decision."

Aegon's face flushed with fury. "I will not wed anyone besides Vaella," he shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber. He turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by Viserys’s labored breathing. Alicent looked at her husband, her eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and resignation. "Viserys," she began softly, but he raised a hand to silence her.

"This is not up for debate, Alicent," Viserys said, his voice tired but resolute. "The decision has been made."

Aemond and Helaena stood quietly, their faces a mix of confusion and concern. Aemond glanced at Helaena, who looked pale and uneasy at the prospect of her new betrothal. Alicent gathered her composure and turned to her remaining children.

"Come, let us leave your father to rest," she said gently. She led them out of the chamber, her mind already racing with the implications of Viserys’s decree.

…

Alicent found Aegon in his chambers, pacing furiously. His anger was palpable, the air thick with his frustration and hurt. As she entered, he turned to her, his eyes blazing with fury.

"How could you let this decision stand?" he demanded, his voice trembling with emotion. "You’re my mother! You should have stopped him!"

Alicent sighed deeply, her own frustration mingling with sadness. "Aegon, I tried. I have spoken to your father many times, but he is adamant about keeping Vaella away from you."

Aegon’s face twisted with anger. "I will not wed Helaena. I won’t do it."

"Aegon, please try to understand," Alicent pleaded, stepping closer. "Your father believes this is what's best for our family."

"I don't care what he believes!" Aegon shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. "He doesn't understand what this means to me. Vaella is the only one I want to be with."

Alicent’s expression softened with empathy, but she knew the futility of arguing against Viserys’s decision. "Aegon, I know this is hard, but you must try to accept it."

Aegon's panic grew, his eyes wide with fear at the thought of being separated from Vaella. "What if they marry her off to someone else? What if she's taken away from me?" He began to hyperventilate, his chest heaving with panic. "I can't lose her, Mother. I can't!"

Alicent reached out, trying to calm him, but he recoiled, his fear turning into blame. "This is your fault!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "If you had fought harder, this wouldn’t be happening!"

The accusation stung, and Alicent’s patience snapped. She slapped Aegon across the face, the sound sharp and shocking in the quiet room. Aegon stood frozen, his hand slowly moving to his cheek where her palm had struck.

"Aegon," Alicent said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "You do not understand the complexities of ruling, the sacrifices that must be made for the good of the realm. Your father’s decision is final. You must learn to accept it."

Aegon’s eyes filled with tears, his anger momentarily eclipsed by the shock of the slap and the depth of his despair. "But I love her," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Alicent’s heart ached for her son. She stepped forward and took his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. "I know, Aegon. I know how much she means to you. But you must find a way to be strong, to honor your father's wishes. This is the burden we bear as members of the royal family."

Aegon closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down his cheek. "I don't know if I can do this, Mother. I don't know if I can live without her."

Alicent pulled him into a tight embrace, her own tears threatening to spill. "You are stronger than you think, my son. And no matter what happens, you will always have my love and support."

Aegon clung to his mother, the anger and fear slowly giving way to a deep, abiding sadness. The future seemed bleak and uncertain, but in this moment, he found a small measure of comfort in her arms. 

As they stood there, wrapped in a silent embrace, Alicent prayed for the strength to guide her son through the difficult times ahead. 

…

After her studies, Vaella wandered through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, her mind still preoccupied with the events of the day. She turned a corner and spotted Aemond and Helaena standing together in a secluded alcove, their expressions troubled and somber. Concerned, she approached them, her brow furrowing with worry.

"Aemond, Helaena, what happened?" she asked, her voice gentle but filled with urgency.

Aemond glanced at Helaena before meeting Vaella’s eyes. "Father has decided that Aegon will marry Helaena," he said, his tone flat.

Vaella’s eyes widened in shock. "What? When did this happen?"

"Just now," Helaena replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mother and Father called us to his chambers. Aegon was furious."

Vaella was left speechless, the weight of the news settling heavily on her shoulders. She turned to Helaena, her concern deepening. "Helaena, what do you think about this?"

Helaena sighed, looking down at her hands. "I don’t know, Vaella. I never imagined marrying Aegon. He’s always been so... difficult."

Aemond scoffed softly, shaking his head. "Difficult is putting it lightly. He’s impossible."

Vaella nodded, her thoughts racing. She knew how possessive Aegon was of her, and the idea of him being forced into a marriage he didn’t want was troubling. But her immediate concern was Helaena. "Are you okay with this?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Helaena looked up, her eyes meeting Vaella’s. "I suppose I don’t have much of a choice. It’s Father’s decision. But it feels... wrong."

Vaella reached out and took Helaena’s hands in hers, squeezing them reassuringly. "I’m here for you, Helaena. We’ll get through this together."

Helaena gave her a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Vaella. That means a lot to me."

Aemond sighed, his expression conflicted. "I hate seeing Aegon like this. But at the same time, I can’t help but feel relieved that it’s not you who has to marry him."

Vaella nodded, understanding his feelings. "It’s a difficult situation for all of us. But we have to support each other, no matter what."

Helaena nodded, her eyes filling with determination. "We will. We’re family, after all."

Vaella smiled, feeling a surge of affection for her siblings. Despite the challenges and uncertainties ahead, she knew they would face them together. "Let’s go for a walk in the gardens," she suggested. "It might help clear our heads."

The three of them made their way to the gardens, the fresh air and the scent of blooming flowers providing a much-needed respite from the tension within the castle. As they walked, they talked about their fears and hopes, finding comfort in each other’s presence.

…

Later that evening, Vaella sat in her chambers, trying to find solace in the quiet after the tumultuous day. She was lost in thought when the door creaked open, and Aegon stepped inside. His face was a picture of despair, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He looked utterly broken.

"Aegon," Vaella whispered, her heart aching at the sight of him. She knew Alicent had forbidden them from sharing a bed, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn him away. She stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a comforting embrace.

Aegon clung to her desperately, his body trembling with sobs. "Vaella, I can't do it. I won't wed Helaena. Father is trying to keep you away from me," he cried, his voice breaking. "He thinks I'm not good enough for anything, let alone you."

Vaella tightened her hold on him, her heart breaking for her brother. "Shh, Aegon. It's going to be okay," she murmured, stroking his hair gently. "We'll find a way through this."

She led him to the bed, and they sat down together. Aegon buried his face in her shoulder, his tears soaking through her gown. Vaella held him, her own eyes filling with tears as she felt his pain.

"I can't lose you, Vaella," Aegon whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You're the only one who understands me, the only one who cares."

Vaella kissed the top of his head, her heart aching for him. "You won't lose me, Aegon. I'm here, and I'll always be here for you."

Aegon’s sobs gradually subsided, replaced by deep, shuddering breaths. Vaella continued to hold him, offering silent comfort. Eventually, they lay down together, Vaella cradling him in her arms.

"Father just doesn’t understand," Aegon muttered, his voice hoarse from crying. "He’s always thought I was a disappointment. But you, Vaella... you're the only one who makes me feel like I'm worth something."

Vaella’s eyes filled with tears as she listened to him. "Aegon, you are worth everything to me. Don’t let Father’s words define you. We’ll find a way to be together, no matter what."

Aegon sighed, his breath warm against her neck. "I hope you're right. I can't imagine my life without you."

Vaella stroked his hair, her heart full of love and determination. "We'll make it through this, Aegon."

As they lay there, the room filled with a sense of peace and comfort. The world outside their small sanctuary felt distant, and for a moment, all that mattered was the bond between them. Aegon’s breathing slowly evened out as he drifted into sleep, his tears finally spent.

Vaella watched over him, her heart heavy with the weight of their shared burdens. She knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but she was determined to stand by Aegon’s side, no matter what. As she closed her eyes and held him close, she whispered a silent promise to herself: to protect him, to support him, and to fight for their future together.

And so, they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s embrace, finding solace in the one person who understood and loved them unconditionally.

…

A few days later, Vaella found herself in the presence of her stepmother, Alicent Hightower. The interactions between them had always been awkward, strained by the complicated relationships and the familial tensions that seemed to pervade the Red Keep. Vaella knew that Aegon’s attachment to her was a point of contention, something Alicent had long tried to break but had recently begun to accept, realizing that Vaella’s presence had a stabilizing effect on Aegon’s more destructive habits and impulses.

The two sat in a quiet chamber, the air thick with unspoken words. Alicent was working on some embroidery, her movements precise and measured, while Vaella sat nearby, her hands folded in her lap.

"Vaella," Alicent began, her tone formal yet not unkind, "how have you been finding your studies?"

Vaella looked up, meeting her stepmother’s eyes. "They have been well, thank you, Mother. Maester Mellos has been very thorough."

Alicent nodded, her focus returning to her needlework. "That is good to hear. Your education is important, especially in times such as these."

There was a pause, the silence growing heavy. Vaella took a deep breath, deciding to speak her mind. "Mother, I wanted to thank you."

Alicent looked up, surprise flickering across her face. "Thank me? For what, child?"

"For taking care of Father all these years," Vaella said softly. "I know it must have been difficult, especially with everything that has happened."

The stern lines on Alicent’s face softened at Vaella’s gratitude. She set aside her embroidery, her hands resting in her lap. "I only did and do my duty, Vaella. As a wife, as a queen."

Vaella nodded, her expression earnest. "I know. But I am thankful nonetheless."

Alicent studied her for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. "You have a kind heart, Vaella. It is a rare quality, and one that I hope you never lose."

Vaella smiled faintly, the warmth of Alicent’s words comforting her. "Thank you, Mother. I try my best."

After a moment's silence, Vaella’s expression turned somber. "I often think about my twin brother, Baelon."

Alicent’s gaze sharpened, her interest piqued. "Do you, now?"

Vaella nodded, her voice tinged with sadness. "I feel responsible for his death. If I could, I would change places with him. Perhaps then, Father would be less miserable, and he would treat everyone better. Even you."

Alicent’s face softened with understanding, her stern demeanor giving way to compassion. "Oh, Vaella. You mustn’t blame yourself for what happened. It was a tragedy, but it was not your fault."

Vaella’s eyes filled with unshed tears. "But sometimes it feels like it is. If I had cried when I was born, if I had been stronger…"

Alicent reached out, placing a gentle hand on Vaella’s. "You were a newborn, Vaella. There was nothing you could have done. Your father’s sorrow is his own, and he carries it for many reasons. Do not take that burden upon yourself."

Vaella nodded, grateful for Alicent’s words, though the weight of her guilt still lingered. She stood, feeling the need to leave before her emotions overwhelmed her. "Thank you, Mother. For everything."

Alicent watched her stepdaughter leave, her mind swirling with thoughts. She recalled the words of Maester Mellos, the strange circumstances surrounding Baelon’s death. Vaella had not cried until after her twin brother had passed, and there had always been an air of mystery and unease about that event.

As Vaella’s footsteps faded down the corridor, Alicent sat in the quiet chamber, her needlework forgotten. Her thoughts drifted to the past, to the fateful day when Baelon had been found lifeless in his crib next to Vaella. The Maester’s words echoed in her mind, speaking of omens and strange occurrences.

Alicent sighed, feeling the weight of her responsibilities and the complexities of her family’s history pressing down on her. She had done her best to navigate the treacherous waters of court life, to protect her children and secure their futures. But some burdens, she realized, could never be fully laid to rest.

As the evening shadows lengthened, Alicent resumed her embroidery, her fingers moving deftly through the fabric. The quiet chamber was filled with the soft sounds of needle and thread, a moment of calm amidst the storm of their lives. In her heart, she carried the hope that somehow, they would all find a way to heal and move forward.

…

As Vaella made her way down the dimly lit corridor of the Red Keep, she was lost in thought about her recent conversation with Alicent. The weight of her family's turmoil pressed heavily on her shoulders. Her mind was filled with worries about Aegon, Helaena, and her father. She barely noticed the figure approaching until he was right in front of her.

"Princess Vaella," Otto Hightower's voice was smooth but commanding. He was the Hand of the King, and his presence always demanded attention.

Vaella stopped and looked up, her expression polite but guarded. "Lord Hightower."

"Have you seen Alicent?" Otto asked, his piercing eyes scrutinizing her.

"Yes, my lord," Vaella replied, maintaining her composure. "She is in her chambers, attending to some letters."

Otto nodded, his expression unreadable. As Vaella turned to leave, he spoke again, stopping her in her tracks. "My son, Ser Gwayne, has been asking about you."

Vaella's heart sank, but she kept her face neutral. "Oh, has he?" she replied politely, her tone carefully controlled. "Please send him my regards."

Otto's eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to gauge her reaction. "You should consider speaking with him more often. He is quite fond of you."

"Thank you for letting me know, Lord Hightower," Vaella said, eager to escape the conversation. "I will keep that in mind."

With a polite nod, she turned and walked away, feeling Otto's eyes on her back until she rounded the corner. The moment she was out of sight, she quickened her pace, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't want to think about Ser Gwayne or any potential suitors. The idea of marriage, especially after her conversation with Alicent, felt like another weight pressing down on her.

Vaella finally reached her chambers and closed the door behind her, leaning against it with a sigh of relief. The silence of her room was a stark contrast to the chaos in her mind. She crossed the room and sank onto her bed, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes.

Everything felt overwhelming. The responsibility of supporting Aegon, the tension with her father, the absence of Rhaenyra—it all pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. She missed her sister terribly. Rhaenyra had always been a source of strength and guidance, and without her, Vaella felt adrift.

She curled up on her bed, hugging a pillow to her chest as the tears finally spilled over. "Rhaenyra," she whispered into the silence, her voice trembling. "I need you. I don’t know how to do this without you."

The room offered no answers, only the quiet sound of her own breathing and the occasional creak of the wooden beams above. Vaella closed her eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace. She thought of Aegon, of his broken expression when he had come to her that night. She thought of Helaena, who faced an uncertain future with a strength Vaella admired. And she thought of her father, a once-great king now frail and weary.

"I have to be strong," she whispered to herself, wiping away her tears. "For them. For our family."

With renewed determination, Vaella sat up and took a deep breath. She knew the path ahead would be difficult, but she was a Targaryen. She had the blood of the dragon in her veins, and she would face whatever came her way with the strength and resilience that defined her family.

As she prepared for the night, Vaella felt a small flicker of hope amidst the darkness. She might be young, and the world might be filled with trails, but she was not alone. She had her family, and she had herself. And that, she decided, would be enough.

…

The news of Lady Laena Velaryon’s death had arrived in King's Landing like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the royal family. The raven brought with it the grim details of her passing, having died giving birth to her third child. Preparations for the funeral at Driftmark were underway, and the Red Keep was a flurry of activity as servants rushed to ensure everything was in order.

Vaella, Aegon, and Aemond were together in one of the quieter rooms, away from the chaos. Vaella was seated at a small table, carefully finishing the painting of a dragon model that Viserys had helped her create. The dragon was a tribute to her twin brother, Baelon, a way for her to feel connected to him despite his absence.

Aegon, restless and bored, lounged nearby, watching her with growing irritation. "Why are you fussing over that thing, Vaella?" he asked, his tone sharp.

Vaella didn’t look up from her work, her focus intent on the delicate details. "It’s a dragon for Baelon. It helps me feel close to him."

Aegon’s reaction was immediate and harsh. He had grown tired of hearing about the brother who had never lived, the one who seemed to hold so much of Vaella’s affection. "Enough about this dead twin of yours," he snapped, striding over and snatching the model from her hands.

Vaella’s eyes widened in shock and fear. "Aegon, please give it back," she pleaded, reaching out for the dragon.

Aegon examined the model with a sneer, his jealousy and frustration boiling over. "This is rubbish," he declared, flicking it away carelessly.

The dragon hit the stone floor with a sickening crack, breaking into several pieces. Vaella gasped, her eyes welling up with tears as she dropped to her knees, frantically trying to collect the broken parts.

Aemond, who had been quietly observing, sprang to his feet, fury in his eyes. "Aegon, how could you?!" he yelled, his voice filled with outrage.

Vaella’s tears spilled over as she gathered the pieces, her heart breaking along with the model. "You didn’t have to do that," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Aegon, still fueled by jealousy and now regret, crossed his arms defensively. "You’re just being dramatic, Vaella. After all, you’re the one who killed your precious brother."

The words hung in the air like a curse, stunning everyone into silence. Vaella’s head snapped up, her eyes burning with a mixture of pain and fury. Aegon realized his mistake too late, the weight of his cruel words sinking in.

Vaella stood abruptly, her face a mask of anguish. Without another word, she rushed out of the room, her sobs echoing in the hallway. Aemond turned on Aegon, his anger palpable. "What’s wrong with you? How could you say something so vile?"

Aegon’s bravado crumbled, replaced by guilt and self-loathing. "I didn’t mean it, Aemond. I was just…"

"You were just being a selfish, jealous brat," Aemond interrupted, his voice cold. "Vaella’s done nothing but care for you, and this is how you repay her?"

Aegon hung his head, the enormity of his actions hitting him hard. "I’m sorry," he muttered, but the apology felt hollow even to his own ears.

Aemond shook his head, his disappointment evident. "Sorry won’t fix this. You need to make it right with Vaella. She doesn’t deserve this from you."

Meanwhile, Vaella fled to her chambers, her heart aching with the weight of Aegon’s words. She collapsed onto her bed, clutching the broken pieces of the dragon to her chest. Her sobs wracked her body as she mourned not just the destruction of the model, but the harsh reminder of her brother's death and the blame she had carried for so long.

The memory of Baelon, the twin she had never truly known but felt deeply connected to, was a wound that never fully healed. Aegon’s words had torn that wound open, and she felt the raw pain of it all over again. The one comfort she had, the one thing that helped her feel close to Baelon, was now shattered, just like her heart.

As the night grew darker, Vaella’s tears finally subsided, leaving her feeling hollow and exhausted. She knew she had to be strong, but in that moment, she allowed herself to grieve, clutching the broken pieces of her dragon and whispering a silent promise to Baelon that she would find a way to heal, for both their sakes.

…

Aegon stumbled through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, his heart pounding with a mixture of guilt and desperation. The realization of what he had said to Vaella weighed heavily on him, and he knew he had to find her and make things right. His steps were uneven, his emotions a chaotic storm within him.

As he rounded a corner, he saw Ser Criston Cole speaking with his mother, Queen Alicent. The knight's stern expression contrasted sharply with Alicent's worried gaze. Aegon considered approaching them but decided against it, knowing that his mother would likely scold him rather than help. He pressed on, determined to find Vaella.

"Vaella!" he called out, his voice echoing through the stone halls. He received no response, only the distant murmur of servants going about their duties.

Eventually, he encountered Haelena, who was quietly observing a tapestry depicting a dragon's flight. "Haelena," Aegon panted, his breath short from the hurried search. "Have you seen Vaella?"

Haelena turned to him, her eyes distant and dreamy. "I haven’t seen her, Aegon. But you should watch out for Vaella, as something might eat her."

Aegon sighed, used to his sister's cryptic ramblings. "Thanks, Haelena," he muttered, not really listening. He continued his search, feeling the weight of time pressing down on him.

As he walked, he passed a platter of wine goblets left by a servant. Without thinking, he grabbed one and drank deeply, the wine burning his throat and dulling the sharp edges of his panic. He repeated the action with another goblet, feeling the effects of the alcohol quickly. His steps became more unsteady, but he was determined to find Vaella.

Eventually, he found her in a secluded corner of the castle, sitting on a stone bench near a small garden. She looked up as he approached, her eyes red from crying. The sight of her made his heart ache even more.

"Vaella," he called softly, stumbling slightly as he approached her. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said. Please, you have to believe me."

Vaella looked at him, her expression a mix of hurt and resignation. "Aegon, you can’t just say things like that and expect everything to be alright. You broke my dragon, and you blamed me for Baelon’s death. How could you?"

Aegon fell to his knees in front of her, his eyes pleading. "I know, Vaella. I know. I was jealous and angry, but I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry." His voice broke as he spoke, the wine and his emotions making him almost incoherent.

Vaella sighed, tears welling up in her eyes again. "You always do this, Aegon. You say hurtful things, and then you apologize, and I always forgive you. But you have to understand how much it hurts."

Aegon reached out, his hands trembling. "I’ll do anything, Vaella. Just please forgive me. I can’t stand it when you’re upset with me."

They argued back and forth, Aegon’s desperation clashing with Vaella’s hurt. The conversation grew heated, their voices rising in the quiet garden. But eventually, as always, Vaella’s resolve softened. She saw the genuine remorse in Aegon’s eyes, the way he was truly sorry for his actions.

She sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping. "Alright, Aegon. I forgive you. But you have to promise me you’ll try to control your temper. We can’t keep doing this."

Aegon nodded vigorously, relief flooding through him. "I promise, Vaella. I’ll be better. I swear it."

Vaella gave him a small, sad smile. "You need to get yourself together. We’re leaving for Driftmark soon, and we need to be strong for our family."

Aegon rose unsteadily to his feet, his heart lighter but still burdened by his guilt. "I will. I promise, Vaella. Thank you."

They embraced, Vaella holding onto him tightly as if to reassure herself that he was truly sorry. As they stood there, the sounds of the Red Keep faded into the background.

Eventually, they pulled apart, and Vaella looked into his eyes. "Let’s go back. We need to prepare for the journey."

Aegon nodded, the alcohol in his system making him slightly unsteady but determined. Together, they walked back towards the heart of the castle, ready to face the challenges ahead. 

…

The funeral of Lady Laena Velaryon was a somber affair, the sky over Driftmark heavy with clouds that seemed to echo the sorrow of the occasion. The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and mourning as the royal family gathered to pay their respects. Vaella stood between her father, King Viserys, and her half-brother Aegon, who barely concealed his boredom. She nudged him discreetly, hoping to remind him of the gravity of the moment as Vaemond Velaryon began his speech in High Valyrian.

Vaella listened intently, her eyes fixed on Vaemond as he extolled Laena's virtues and spoke of the purity of their bloodline. When he reached the part of his speech that touched upon blood purity, Vaella’s gaze shifted to her uncle Daemon, standing apart from the rest of the mourners. Daemon’s quiet chuckle drew several curious and disapproving glances, adding an undercurrent of tension to the solemn ceremony.

As Laena’s body was prepared for its final journey into the sea, Vaella felt a mixture of sorrow and unease. The circumstances of their gathering were dark, but she was grateful to see her sister Rhaenyra after so long. Once Laena’s body was committed to the depths, the guests began to move, offering their sympathies to Daemon, Laena’s parents, Corlys and Rhaenys, and her twin daughters.

Ignoring Aegon’s insistent nagging not to leave him alone with Aemond and Helaena, Vaella slipped through the crowd, her heart set on finding Rhaenyra. She weaved her way past grieving nobles and courtiers, finally spotting her sister standing with her sons, Jacaerys and Lucerys.

“Rhaenyra!” Vaella called out, her voice a mixture of joy and relief.

Rhaenyra turned, her face lighting up as she saw her sister. “Vaella!” she exclaimed, opening her arms for an embrace. The two sisters hugged tightly, the warmth of their reunion a small comfort amidst the sorrow.

“It’s so good to see you,” Vaella said, pulling back slightly to look at Rhaenyra’s face. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Rhaenyra replied, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “These have been difficult times.”

Vaella nodded, then turned to her nephews. “Hello, Jace. Hello, Luke,” she greeted them warmly.

“Hello, Aunt Vaella,” Jacaerys said, managing a small smile despite the somber occasion.

Lucerys nodded, his expression serious but pleased to see her. “Hello.”

Vaella ruffled Lucerys’s hair affectionately, then turned back to Rhaenyra. “How have you been holding up?”

Rhaenyra sighed, glancing at her sons before answering. “It’s been hard, but we’re managing. The boys have been a great comfort to me.”

Vaella squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m glad you have each other. And I’m here now, too.”

Rhaenyra smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. “Yes, you are. And it means the world to me.”

They stood together, drawing strength from their reunion, even as the mourners around them continued to offer condolences. Vaella felt a sense of peace being with her sister, a small respite from the constant pressures and tensions back at King’s Landing.

Meanwhile, Aegon stood with Aemond and Helaena, casting anxious glances in Vaella’s direction. He wanted to follow her, to ensure she was safe and to draw comfort from her presence, but he knew better than to disrupt the sisters’ reunion. Aemond, noticing his brother’s discomfort, smirked slightly.

“Miss her already, Aegon?” Aemond teased, his tone light but knowing.

Aegon scowled. “Shut up, Aemond.”

Helaena, lost in her own world, looked up suddenly. “The sea takes and the sea gives, but the heart remembers always,” she murmured, her voice distant and cryptic.

Aegon sighed, his frustration growing. “I just wish this was over.”

Back with Rhaenyra, Vaella felt the need to address the elephant in the room. “Rhaenyra, I heard about what happened with Harwin and Lyonel. I’m so sorry.”

Rhaenyra’s expression darkened briefly, but she nodded. “Thank you, Vaella. It’s been a challenging time, but we must carry on.”

Vaella nodded, her heart aching for her sister. “If you need anything, anything at all, please tell me.”

Rhaenyra smiled gratefully. “I will. Thank you, Vaella. Your support means more than you know.”

As Vaella talked with Rhaenyra, their father, Viserys, joined them, his presence lending an air of solemnity and gravitas to their conversation. They discussed the funeral and shared memories of Laena, finding comfort in each other's company. Nearby, Aemond took the opportunity to address his brother, Aegon, who had already managed to snatch a goblet of wine.

"Aegon," Aemond said sharply, his voice low but firm, "you should at least try to spend some time with Helaena. She will be your wife."

Aegon scoffed, his gaze drifting over to Vaella, who was deeply engrossed in conversation with their father and Rhaenyra. "I've already told you all, I will not marry her," he said dismissively, taking a deep drink from his goblet.

Aemond's eyes narrowed in frustration. "You have no choice, Aegon. You can deny it all you want, but it is Father's decree."

Annoyed, Aegon retorted, "Then you marry her, Aemond, since you defend her so much."

Aemond's face hardened. "If she were given to me, I would marry her. I would do my duty."

Aegon rolled his eyes, the word "duty" like a bitter pill. His mind flashed back to a conversation with his mother a few months ago, a memory that still stung. Alicent had found him in the gardens, her expression stern and her tone urgent.

"Aegon," she had said, "you must understand your duty. As the firstborn son of the king who should’ve been named heir after your birth, you are a threat to Rhaenyra’s claim. By simply living and breathing. You need to start behaving more reasonably."

Aegon had looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and frustration. "I don't want any of that, Mother. I just want Vaella."

Alicent's reaction had been swift and harsh. She had slapped him, the sound echoing in the quiet garden. "You will do your duty," she had said, her voice cold and unyielding.

After that confrontation, Aegon had left, seeking solace in Vaella's chambers. The memory of that slap and his mother's words haunted him now as he stood in the dimly lit Driftmark hall.

"Do you even understand what duty means, Aegon?" Aemond asked, his voice cutting through Aegon's reverie. "It's about more than just what you want. It's about the family, the realm."

Aegon glared at his brother, his frustration bubbling over. "I understand more than you think, Aemond. I just don't care."

Aemond shook his head in disbelief. "You are hopeless."

Aegon took another deep drink, his eyes once again drifting to Vaella. "Maybe. But at least I know what I want."

Meanwhile, Vaella was deeply engaged in conversation with Rhaenyra and Viserys. They reminisced about happier times, their shared laughter and stories a brief respite from the grief that hung over the funeral.

"Father, you remember how Laena used to challenge us to races on the beach?" Rhaenyra asked, a wistful smile on her lips.

Viserys nodded, his eyes brightening at the memory. "She always had such a fierce spirit. It's a great loss for all of us."

Vaella listened, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging in their shared memories. She glanced over at Aegon and Aemond, noticing the tension between them but choosing to stay focused on her conversation.

Rhaenyra placed a comforting hand on Vaella's shoulder. "It's good to see you, Vaella. We need each other now more than ever."

Vaella smiled, feeling the love and support of her family. "I'm glad to be here with you all."

The conversation flowed, a blend of sadness and comfort, as they found solace in each other's presence. The evening wore on, the weight of their responsibilities and the loss of Laena ever-present, but the bond between them offered strength and hope for the days ahead.

Aegon, feeling the effects of the wine and the emotional toll of the day, finally made his way over to Vaella. "Vaella," he said quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "can we talk?"

Vaella looked up, concern etched on her face. "Of course, Aegon." She excused herself from Rhaenyra and Viserys, leading Aegon to a quieter corner of the hall.

"I'm sorry for everything," Aegon began, his voice trembling slightly. "For what I said about Baelon, for not supporting you the way I should."

Vaella's expression softened, her heart aching for her brother. "Aegon, I forgive you. But you need to understand, we all have a duty to our family."

Aegon nodded, his eyes downcast. "I know. It's just... so hard."

Vaella reached out, taking his hand in hers. "We'll face it together. But you need to be strong, for all of us."

Aegon looked up, meeting her gaze with a mixture of hope and determination. "I'll try, Vaella. For you."

They embraced, finding comfort in each other's presence. As they held each other, they knew that no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, united by their love and loyalty.

…

As the evening gave way to night, the royal families began to retire to their chambers. The air was heavy with the weight of the day’s sorrow and the undercurrent of familial tensions. Otto Hightower, ever vigilant, was overseeing the last of his family’s attendants when he caught sight of Aegon, clearly drunk, clinging to his half-sister Vaella. His face twisted with anger and embarrassment at the sight of his grandson bringing shame to their family.

Otto strode over, his expression severe. "Vaella, get him out of here," he ordered sharply. He then turned his ire on Aegon, his voice a harsh whisper. "You are an embarrassment, Aegon. Pull yourself together."

Vaella nodded, gently pulling Aegon away from the gathering. "Come on, Aegon, it’s time to go to bed."

Aegon, his steps unsteady, leaned heavily on Vaella as they made their way through the corridors of Driftmark. He muttered incoherently, his words slurred by the wine. Vaella remained patient, her grip on him firm but caring.

When they reached the chambers designated for Aegon, he suddenly pulled Vaella inside with him. The door closed behind them with a soft thud, sealing them in the dimly lit room.

"Aegon, what are you doing?" Vaella asked, her voice filled with concern.

Aegon, his mind fogged by the alcohol, didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled her onto the bed with him, his movements clumsy but insistent. He pressed his lips to hers in a fervent kiss, his desperation palpable. Vaella tried to break the kiss, pushing against his chest gently.

"Aegon, stop," she murmured against his lips. "Mother will be furious if she finds us like this."

Aegon dismissed her words, his focus solely on her. "I don’t care about Mother," he muttered, his voice raw with emotion. He pulled back slightly, his violet eyes searching her indigo ones. "Vaella, do you love me?"

Vaella’s heart ached at the vulnerability in his gaze. She looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his longing and the pain he tried so hard to mask. Her own feelings were a complex web of love, loyalty, and the heavy burden of their family’s expectations.

"Aegon…" she began, her voice trembling. She cupped his face in her hands, her thumb brushing gently over his cheek. "You know I care about you deeply."

Aegon’s eyes pleaded with her, his hands gripping her waist as if afraid she would slip away. "But do you love me?" he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Vaella took a deep breath, her emotions swirling within her. She felt the weight of their shared history, the unspoken bond that had always connected them. She knew that her answer carried immense significance, a promise of loyalty and support amidst the chaos of their lives.

She looked into his eyes, her own filled with a mixture of tenderness and resolve. "Yes, Aegon, I love you."

Aegon’s relief was palpable, his tense body relaxing slightly as he leaned into her touch. He kissed her again, softer this time, his desperation giving way to a deep, abiding need for reassurance and comfort.

As the night deepened, Aegon muttered into Vaella's neck, his voice filled with despair. "Nobody else loves me, except for you. You heard what Grandsire Otto said—I’m a disgrace."

Vaella held him tighter, her heart aching for him. "Aegon, you are special to me. Don’t listen to them. They don’t understand you like I do."

Aegon buried his head further into her neck, savoring the closeness before he began kissing her again, his childhood rivalry with Rhaenyra resurfacing. "I won’t let Rhaenyra take your attention again," he murmured between kisses.

Vaella closed her eyes, choosing silence over words, not wanting to ruin the moment or send him into another spiral. She cherished the connection they shared, a bond they had to hide more and more as they grew older. She wasn’t naive; she had heard the whispers of the servants comparing her to Rhaenyra’s rumored promiscuity in her younger years. It was one of many rumors she had learned to ignore.

As Aegon's kisses trailed down her body, Vaella's soft moans began to fill the room. His kisses were eager yet familiar, evoking sensations she had come to know well. When his kisses reached her thighs, her breathing grew shallow with anticipation.

Aegon lifted his head, quickly undoing his own attire. They shared a look filled with longing and determination, a silent understanding passing between them. Just as they were about to join, the chamber doors burst open. Commander Harrold Westerling, alarmed and taken aback by the scene before him, stood in the doorway.

Aegon and Vaella scrambled to disentangle and cover themselves with the sheets. Harrold averted his eyes, his voice urgent. "There’s been an incident. The king demands your presence in the throne room immediately."

Their intimate moment shattered, replaced by a cold dread. Vaella nodded, her heart pounding. "We’ll be there right away."

Harrold turned and left, leaving the door ajar. Aegon and Vaella quickly dressed, the urgency of the situation sobering them. They exchanged a final glance, their connection momentarily overshadowed by the gravity of the call.

As they left the chambers and approached the grand doors of the throne room, the faint murmurs of the gathered nobles reached their ears.

Aegon squeezed Vaella's hand, a silent promise that they would face whatever came next together. She squeezed back, drawing strength from his presence. The heavy doors loomed before them, the threshold to yet another challenge in their complex lives.

…

Aegon and Vaella walked into the throne room, their hearts pounding in their chests. The sight that greeted them was one of chaos and bloodshed. King Viserys stood fuming, leaning heavily on his cane, his face a mask of fury and grief. Jacaerys and Lucerys were standing in front of the angry and tearful Baela and Rhaena, both boys bloodied and battered. But the sight that shook Vaella the most was Aemond, sitting in a chair with the Maester just finishing his work. Aemond's eye was gone, replaced by thick, bloody stitches that adorned the empty socket.

Before Vaella could fully comprehend what had happened, Aegon was suddenly struck hard across the cheek by Alicent. The force of the slap sent him stumbling back a step. Alicent's face was a mixture of rage and despair as she hissed at him, "Where were you?"

Commander Harrold, who had followed them in, spoke up hesitantly. "Prince Aegon was in bed... with Princess Vaella."

Alicent's eyes flicked to Vaella, giving her a pained grimace and a look that promised a severe conversation about the broken promise they had made to the Queen. Turning her fury back to Aegon, she accused him bitterly, "While you indulged in your desires, your little brother was attacked and maimed!"

Aegon, holding his stinging cheek, looked around the room in a daze, his eyes wide with shock and guilt. "I didn’t know, Mother. I didn’t know," he muttered, his voice breaking.

Vaella stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding his head against her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Viserys's attention shifted briefly to Aegon and Vaella, his expression one of deep disappointment and sadness. "Aegon, Vaella, we will discuss this later," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "Right now, we must address this grievous injury to Aemond."

Vaella's heart ached as she looked at Aemond, who was staring blankly ahead, his face pale and drawn. She wanted to go to him, to offer some comfort, but she knew that her presence would only complicate matters further.

Just then, the doors to the throne room opened again, and Rhaenyra entered with Daemon following closely behind her. Her face was a mask of alarm as she took in the scene before her, her eyes widening in shock and fear.

"What happened?" Rhaenyra demanded, rushing to her sons and inspecting their injuries. "Jace, Luke, are you all right?"

Jacaerys and Lucerys nodded, though their faces were marked with cuts and bruises. "We're fine, Mother," Jacaerys said, his voice steady despite the pain.

Daemon's gaze swept the room, taking in the blood, the tension, and the wounded Aemond. His expression darkened, and he stepped forward, his presence commanding and intimidating.

"Who did this?" Daemon asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Alicent, her eyes filled with tears, pointed a trembling finger at Rhaenyra's sons. "They did. They attacked Aemond."

Rhaenyra's eyes flashed with anger as she turned to her sons. "Is this true?"

Then all hell broke loose just as Rhaenys and Corlys arrived, their faces etched with concern and confusion. Jacaerys and Lucerys began to shout, their voices rising above the din. "Aemond attacked Rhaena and Baela!" Jace cried.

Baela, her face flushed with anger and tears streaming down her cheeks, yelled, "He stole our mother's dragon! It was Aemond who attacked first!"

Aemond, bloodied and battered but defiant, shouted back, "I did not attack them! I claimed the dragon because no one else had the courage!"

Alicent, her eyes blazing with fury, stepped forward, her voice ringing out. "It should be my son telling the tale! Look at what they've done to him!"

Viserys, his face a mask of anger and desperation, banged his cane on the floor, his voice booming, "Enough! Silence, all of you!"

The room fell into a tense, uneasy silence. Aegon clung to Vaella, who looked around the room with desperation. Helaena stood nearby, looking lost and bewildered, her usual serene detachment shattered by the chaos. Vaella noticed that Laenor was absent and her sister Rhaenyra had entered earlier with Daemon, his presence a silent threat to anyone who might harm her sons.

Rhaenyra, her voice trembling with controlled fury, said, "It was my sons who were attacked. Heavy insults were levied against them."

Alicent scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How does an insult justify my son losing an eye?"

Viserys turned to Alicent, ignoring her outburst, and asked, "What insults?" His voice was calm but laced with barely restrained fury.

Luke, his voice barely above a whisper, said, "He called us bastards."

A heavy silence descended upon the room. The weight of the accusation hung in the air, everyone feeling its implications. Rhaenyra stepped forward, her voice strong and clear. "I am the heir to the throne, and to question the birth of my sons is the highest treason."

Viserys turned to Aemond, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and anger. "Look at me, Aemond," he commanded. "Who told you these lies?"

Vaella noticed Aemond's gaze shift briefly to Alicent before he quickly averted it. "It was Aegon," Aemond said, his voice steady but his eye betraying his fear.

Vaella stiffened, her heart pounding. Aegon lifted his head from Vaella's embrace, his face a mask of confusion. "Me?" he asked, his voice incredulous.

Viserys quickly turned his attention to Aegon, who still clung to Vaella. "Why do you spread such lies about your nephews?" he demanded, his voice filled with disappointment and anger.

Aegon looked at his mother, then at his brother, and finally at his father. "Everyone knows," he said, his voice low and resigned. "Just look at them."

Vaella's grip on Aegon's hand tightened. The truth was undeniable and dangerous, a reality that could destroy Rhaenyra's claim to the throne. Vaella hung her head, unable to defend her sister. It was all up to their father now.

A long silence filled the room, everyone waiting for Viserys's response. The tension was visible, the future of their family hanging in the balance. Viserys, his face lined with pain and sorrow, finally spoke. "This fighting must stop," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "If not for my sake, then for the sake of this old man, who loves you all so much."

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, the silence deep and oppressive. Vaella felt the tension in Aegon's body, the fear and uncertainty that mirrored her own. They could only wait and hope that their father would find a way to hold their fractured family together.

Alicent's eyes blazed with fury, her voice trembling as she spoke. "That's insufficient!" she declared, her anger boiling over.

Viserys, his desperation evident, asked, "What would you have me do, Alicent? Children fight."

Vaella could see Alicent's rage reaching a dangerous peak. "I demand an eye for an eye," Alicent said, her voice cold and merciless. "I want an eye from one of Rhaenyra's children in return."

The room erupted in shocked gasps as Rhaenyra quickly moved to shield her children. Alicent turned to Ser Criston Cole, her voice a command. "Bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon."

Ser Criston, his expression conflicted, shook his head. "I am sworn to protect you, Your Grace, not to carry out vengeance."

Viserys, his face contorted with a mix of anger and sorrow, hissed at Alicent. "This matter is closed, Alicent."

Vaella watched in horror as the scene unfolded before her, almost as if she were in a dream. She saw Alicent's eyes narrow in determination as she grabbed Viserys' dagger from his belt as he turned away. With a cry of rage, Alicent rushed towards Rhaenyra's sons. Everyone in the room backed up in shock, and Vaella screamed her sister's name, her voice piercing the chaos. "Rhaenyra!"

Aegon's grip on Vaella tightened, his own fear palpable. Rhaenyra, reacting quickly, blocked the dagger with her hand, the blade drawing blood as she halted Alicent's advance. Otto yelled for his daughter to stop, but Alicent continued, her eyes wild with fury.

Rhaenyra and Alicent faced each other, the dagger between them, their faces inches apart. A tense silence fell over the room as everyone held their breath. "You would destroy this family for your pride," Rhaenyra hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Alicent's eyes were filled with tears of rage and frustration. "And you would see it torn apart for your lies," she retorted, her voice shaking.

Suddenly, Alicent pulled the dagger back, slashing Rhaenyra's arm. The blade clattered to the floor as Rhaenyra clutched her bleeding arm, her face a mask of pain.

Aemond, who had been silent until now, spoke up, his voice steady and resolute. "Do not mourn for me, Mother," he said, turning to Alicent. "It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."

The room fell silent once more, Aemond's words hanging in the air. The weight of his sacrifice and the implications of his gain settled over everyone present. Vaella felt a mix of fear, sorrow, and a strange sense of admiration for her half-brother's resilience.

…

As the chaos in the throne room began to settle down, Vaella slowly let go of Aegon, who called softly after her, "Vaella, don't go."

But she gave him a reassuring squeeze before stepping away. "I need to check on Rhaenyra," she whispered, her eyes filled with concern. Aegon nodded reluctantly, watching her go.

Vaella moved through the crowd, her heart pounding. She found Rhaenyra surrounded by their family, with the Maester already working on her wound. Rhaenyra winced as the Maester cleaned and dressed the cut on her arm. Vaella knelt beside her sister, gently touching her shoulder.

"Rhaenyra, are you all right?" Vaella asked, her voice filled with worry.

Rhaenyra managed a strained smile, her eyes softening at the sight of her sister. "I'll be fine, Vaella. It's just a scratch."

Vaella stayed with her until the Maester finished his work, offering quiet words of comfort. Once Rhaenyra's wound was tended to, Vaella turned her attention to Aemond, who had moved to stand closer to Aegon. She approached him cautiously, her heart aching at the sight of his injury.

"Aemond," she said softly, "does it hurt?"

Aemond, trying to put on a brave face, shook his head. "It doesn't anymore," he replied, his voice steady.

Vaella smiled gently, her admiration for his strength evident. "Congratulations on claiming Vhagar," she said, her tone sincere.

Aemond nodded, a flicker of pride in his remaining eye. "Thank you," he said softly. "Rhaena told me I stole her mother's dragon."

Vaella frowned slightly, shaking her head. "Dragons can't be stolen, Aemond. They choose their riders."

Aemond's lips curled into a small smile. "I know. I hope you get a dragon soon, too, Vaella."

She returned his smile, feeling a warm sense of connection with her younger brother. "I'm content for now, Aemond," she said, her voice gentle.

Aegon, who had been watching the exchange, stepped forward and placed a hand on Vaella's shoulder. "Can we go back to bed now?" he asked, his voice laced with fatigue and longing.

Vaella nodded, giving Aemond one last reassuring smile. "We'll talk more later," she said softly.

As Vaella and Aegon turned to leave, she exchanged a final look with Alicent. The Queen's eyes were filled with a complex mixture of emotions—pain, regret, and a touch of resignation. Vaella held her gaze for a moment, silently acknowledging the unspoken understanding between them. Then she turned and walked away with Aegon, their footsteps echoing through the now silent throne room.

As they made their way back to their chambers, Aegon leaned into Vaella, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude and exhaustion.

"For what?" Vaella asked, glancing up at him.

"For being here. For always being here," Aegon replied, his eyes softening.

Vaella smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. "Always, Aegon."

They reached their chambers, the tension of the night's events still hanging heavily over them. But as they settled back into the familiar comfort of each other's presence, a sense of peace began to wash over them. The world outside their small sanctuary was filled with turmoil and uncertainty, but in this moment, they had each other.

As they lay down, Aegon pulled Vaella close, his arms wrapped protectively around her. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.

Vaella looked up at him, her indigo eyes meeting his violet ones. "You'll never have to find out," she replied softly. Aegon sighed, his tension slowly melting away.

They closed their eyes, the warmth of their bond shielding them from the harsh realities of their world. And that, for them, was enough.