#she was spared this one indignity

[monabee-draws]

Sometimes I think about the Tranquil and how their skulls were used to make Ocularum.

Much of the horror in Inquisition is overlooked because of the sheer volume of it we encounter. But I always think of that shack on the water in Redcliffe, with shelves and shelves of Tranquil skulls. A second death after a brief moment of struggling life during their possession.

[stromblessed]

Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows

In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.

If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.

So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.

I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?

However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.

Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)

And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.

Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.

It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.

Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?

While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:

She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.

You see where I'm going with this.

When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:

And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD

When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.

MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS

No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.

And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:

Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!

The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.

And, uh

Yeah.

I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.

But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.

Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:

But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.

There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.

After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:

"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.

Kind of like another bird in this show:

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun (Part IV)

Aemond Targaryen x female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Angst begins, still lots of fluff, smut (of course), Aegon still being an ass

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

~~

The court was in a frenzy.

The news of their betrothal spread through King’s Landing like wildfire. It was all anyone could talk about for days on end. Some felt vindicated, that the rumors they had been spreading for months had finally come to fruition, while others were skeptical, unsure of what such a sweet young girl saw in the surly one-eyed Prince. 

The gossip was never ending, with many speculating the couple had been consorting inappropriately in private. While many knew of Ixtal’s customs, that they weren’t as strict about their Ladies maidenhood as they were in the rest of Westeros, it didn’t stop the looks of indignation she received from certain members of the court who turned their noses up at the mere possibility she had sullied herself before her marriage.

While Aemond hated the speculation and had to be held back more than once from storming over to a group of tittering Ladies and threatening to take their tongues for daring to speak ill of his betrothed, she found it laughable. She had to remind her betrothed they weren’t exactly wrong. 

Their nights of pleasure together were only all the more exciting and mind blowing knowing they would have each other forever, that they no longer needed to fear what the future held. 

They could finally relax, they would soon be each other’s in the eyes of the Gods and no one could take that away from them. 

Their wedding was spared no expense. Lords and Ladies of great houses from across the realm traveled to the Capitol to witness the union of a Targaryen Prince and the daughter of the most prosperous house in the realm. 

Aemond paid no mind to the fanfare. All he cared about was her. 

He barely got to see her in the weeks leading up to their wedding, with her swept up with the Ladies of the court in dress fittings and as her family arrived at King’s Landing, she was rarely seen without her dear younger sister or mother at her side. 

The King demanded a three day tourney be held to celebrate, with lavish hunts and feasts raving practically each night. Aemond had never seen his father so excited and he knew it had little to do with him and all to do with his dear friend, the Lord of Ixtal, that their families would officially be uniting. 

He rolled his eyes at the whole affair. He just wanted to marry his love. He didn’t want all this attention and unnecessary flourish. 

She would laugh softly everytime he slunk into her chambers at night, her bright eyes alight with mischief, a delighted smile on her face at the annoyance on his.

“Couldn’t stay away?”

“You know I couldn’t.” He crooned, inhaling her scent as he hugged her tightly from behind. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“I am.” She answered with a blissful smile. “Are you?”

“I was ready to marry you years ago.” 

She practically swooned, leaning her head back onto his shoulder, her gaze filled with nothing but devotion. She never would have pictured this for herself. She never could have imagined she would be able to marry her best friend, that she would find a love so pure and so beautiful for herself. She didn’t think that kind of love even existed. 

“Everything seems so perfect.” She spoke softly, reveling in his embrace. 

He hummed in agreement, wishing they could go find a Maester now to perform a ceremony and bind themselves together. He didn’t want to wait another minute. He just wanted to be her husband. 

The next morning, the entire Keep was a flurry of activity. Maids scurried in and out of her chambers to prepare her, most desperate to catch a glimpse of the Island girl that would soon become a Targaryen princess. 

She sat nervously at her vanity, her hands fidgeting in her lap. 

Today was the day she would finally marry her best friend. It all seemed too good to be true, as though they had gotten away with some elaborate plan. 

“You look beautiful, my love.” Her mother spoke, her eyes already brimming my tears.

“I’m not even in my dress yet.” She laughed as her mother waved her off, wiping under her eyes as she had been doing all morning. 

To her left, Alicent stood, her demeanor much more reserved than that of her own mother and sister, who could barely contain their excitement. The Queen had yet to crack a smile since she had entered her chambers and had been silently picking out jewelry for her to wear, barely sparing a glance to her soon to be good daughter. 

A nervous lump grew in her throat. She didn’t have the best relationship with Aemond’s mother, even as children, the woman seemed disinterested in speaking more than a few words to her. She at least thought the day she wedded her son she’d try to bridge the gap between them, but it seemed she still had little interest. 

She didn’t seem all that thrilled her son was even getting married. 

The maids around her all gestured for her to stand and move towards the floor length mirror, their excited giggles growing in volume as her dress was brought forward. 

Her breath hitched. It was real. This was happening. 

Her heart was racing as the maids helped her dress, her eyes beginning to sting with the pressure to cry the happiest of tears. 

“I assume you know what is expected of you tonight.” Alicent’s voice broke through the throng of excited chattering, abruptly shattering the positive energy in the room. 

The way Alicent looked at her, so intently, almost judgmentally, made her want to shrink. She swallowed and nodded. 

She felt a hand at her shoulder, her mother’s presence steadily at her side.

“We have already discussed what her duty is tonight.” Her mother answered for her, her voice sounder stiffer than before. 

Her mother had been in King’s Landing barely a day before she figured out what her daughter and her betrothed had been up to for months. Aemond had been horrified when his future good mother blurted out their long held secret. 

She was sure he would be blushing for the rest of his life. Even after her mother laughed heartily and assured them she would never tell a soul, that she held no judgment for them, he still had trouble meeting her eye out of sheer embarrassment. 

With one look at Alicent, the Lady of Ixtal knew she would do whatever she needed to do, say whatever she needed to say, to not let the frigid woman before her try to sink her claws into her daughter. 

She would not ruin her daughter’s big day. 

 Alicent hummed, the sound neither that of satisfaction or disdain, and she remained quiet, though her critical eye never lessened. She had no compliments for the young girl who donned her beautiful, extravagant dress, she had no well wishes for the girl as her eyes brimmed with happy tears.

All Alicent could fixate on was how angry her father was at the turn of events. They had lost a monumental opportunity to gain allies due to the girl in front of her. She had bewitched her son, her uncivilized ways weakening Aemond’s sense of duty and proprietary. She never forgot how her son had stormed into her room, practically demanding a betrothal. It was so unlike him, not at all how he had been raised to act and she knew the Ixtal girl was to blame. 

All she could do was plaster on a fake smile and hope everything her father had worked on for years wasn’t all for naught. 

~~

She was a vision as she stepped out of the carriage, her pulse thrumming in her ears, her hands trembling in anticipation. 

In a matter of minutes, she was going to be married to the love of her life.

“Are you ready?” Her father asked, a soft smile on his face as he stared at his first daughter with barely contained emotion. She nodded eagerly, latching onto his arm, taking in a final deep breath before they stepped inside. 

The crowd of guests were in awe as she passed, though she could not spare a glance to any of the onlookers that seemed to swoon at the sight of her. Her gaze was locked onto the man at the front of the room, meeting his eye effortlessly.

Aemond had been watching the door and nothing else for the past few minutes, anxiously awaiting her arrival. The second she stepped inside, his breath had been stolen from him. 

He felt nervous flutters within him, as if he was once again that little boy who was in love with his best friend before he even knew what it meant to love someone. 

His vision blurred slightly as tears gathered in his eye at the sight of her, so beautiful, so perfect, his wife. 

They couldn’t take their eyes off each other as her father removed the cloak from her shoulders. Aemond felt his breath hitch at the sight of her in her dress, the shape of her body, the delicate silk outlining every curve he had spent many nights memorizing and worshiping. 

As he stood before her, placing the heavy Targaryen cloak over her shoulders, he breathed in her familiar scent, calming every one of his nerves. 

He took her hand, guiding her up the steps of the dais. No one said a word as he kept his hand in hers, the crowd was absolutely enraptured by the sight of them, the Ladies dramatically sharing looks of longing at the couple as neither one of them spared a glance to the Septon that began the service. 

They only had eyes for each other. 

No one could deny the love they shared. As they spoke the words that bound them together, their smiles dazzling, no one could deny this was a marriage of pure love. 

“I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days.”

The words left him with ease. He used to dread this moment as a child, hating the idea of being bound to a woman he didn’t know and didn’t care for for the rest of his life, purely out of duty. 

Now, he couldn’t imagine saying the words to any other person but the woman in front of him. The thought of spending the rest of his days with her, his love, brought him nothing but relief and endless happiness, a feeling he never pictured for himself. 

Since he lost his eye, since a piece of him had literally been taken from him, he had always felt slighted, but now, as the Septon announced their union, as he kissed her for the first time as his wife, he felt whole again. 

He was no longer that overlooked second son, he was no longer that scarred and feared man who longed for revenge. 

He was a husband, he was her protector, her friend, her love. He felt he finally had a meaningful purpose, one that meant so much more than the duty his family expected from him. 

The crowd cheered voraciously. It wasn’t often they got to witness a union so blessed by affection. 

Aemond kept his awed gaze on her as they made their way down the aisle, his hand clasped tightly in hers, paying no mind to anyone else around him. 

They could scarcely keep their hands from each other. 

During the feast, Aemond kept his hand on her thigh, his touch thankfully hidden by the long train covering the table. As both of their fathers gave speeches, spouting lovely rhetorics of family and peace, he couldn’t bring himself to listen to a word of it. 

His attention was focused solely on the woman beside him. His wife. 

He felt himself smiling just at the thought of it, that he could finally say the word. 

When the music started and they made their way to the floor to share their first dance, a moment Aemond had been dreading for weeks, he found he couldn’t care less that everyone’s eyes were on him. 

He realized nothing else mattered. Everything he thought would make him feel insecure wasn’t even a thought in his mind. He held her closely, his heart racing as if they were dancing for the first time, as if he was touching her for the first time.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile so much.” She spoke with a laugh.

“I have a good reason to smile.” He responded with a smirk as he twirled her. 

The guests couldn’t take their eyes off the couple as they danced. Most felt they were intruding on an intimate moment with how intently they gazed at each other, their love radiating from each of them effortlessly. 

They noticed how the couple sparsely ceased their touch from each other. The Lords present couldn’t help but feel slighted there would be no bedding ceremony. They were sure it would be a spectacle with how the Prince eyed his new wife with a hunger most men couldn’t conceive for their own wives. 

Aemond’s pout as his new wife accepted Helaena’s offer to dance, leaving him to sit by himself, would be fodder for most of the gossip the next morning. 

He watched her with a small smile, looking more at ease than the court had ever seen him, content at the mere sight of her delight as she twirled around with Helaena, their shared laughter ringing out louder than the music playing. 

He took a small sip from his wine, content to not drink much more, knowing he’d rather have a clear head for what the rest of the night held. He would finally take her as his wife, he would lay with her, spill his seed inside her without consequence. 

After tonight, her stomach could swell with his child and no one could say a thing. 

The thought made him desperate to drag her to their new shared chambers. He would be eager to see the end of the feast and lay with her for the rest of the night, but with how happy she was, he wouldn’t do a thing to take her away from it. 

As she twirled with Helaena, her head back, eyes closed, a picture of pure happiness, she suddenly lost her footing. She stumbled slightly, her eyes widening, but sturdy hands on her waist stopped her from falling to the floor. 

“Mind if I cut in?” 

She stiffened at the voice in her ear, turning to see Aegon’s smarmy smile. She wanted nothing more than to wrench his hands off her, but she couldn’t make a scene at her own wedding. If she displayed any ounce of discomfort by his hands, she was sure Aemond would forever be tainted as the man who killed his own brother on his wedding night.

“Aegon…” Helaena called out wearily, not wanting her dear friend to be subjected to her brother’s cruel games, though she didn’t have power in her own corner to derail him.

“It’s alright Helaena.” She assured her, giving her a weak smile to the Princess who eyed her worriedly for a moment before retreating back to the head table. 

She cleared her throat and stood stiffly, holding back a grimace as Aegon’s hand slipped around her waist, his other taking hers, his grip tight and domineering, as if he wanted to prove to her how much stronger he was than her.

“You were lucky my grandsire allowed this to happen so quickly.” He spoke blatantly as they began to dance. “I was hoping to expose your big secret to the court.”

She felt her insides twist. Knowing Aegon was aware of her and Aemond’s secret, of their sneaking around, had her wanting to retreat where no one would find her. Even now they were married, Aegon still had the power to destroy her reputation.

She just hoped he ruined his own before he had the chance to tear her down. 

“You think they would listen to the words of a drunken idiot?” 

His smile turned wicked, his disdain for her clear, though there was no denying the lust in his gaze as he looked at her. He didn’t have to like her to fuck her. 

“More than they would listen to a whore who spreads her legs for anyone.”

“You mean my husband?” She retaliated, her patience for him wearing thin. 

Aegon chuckled, though his bitterness was clear. He leaned in close, his nose almost brushing against hers. She jerked back, sending him a vicious scowl, all she could allow herself under the prying eyes that surrounded her. 

“You could have been mine.” He crooned, the wine on his breath making her feel nauseous. “Gods only know why you decided to settle for my twat of a brother. As if he could please you better than I could, as if he could fuck you the way I could. I bet you were the first woman he ever bedded.”

His words made her feel sick to her stomach as she staunchly looked past his shoulder, refusing to look him in the eye. She didn’t want him to know how much he could get under her skin. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I would rather let the entire brothel of whores you sully yourself with flay every layer of my skin off slowly until I beg for death than ever crawl into bed with you.”

Aegon only smirked joyously.

“The mouth on you.” He admired with a shake of his head. “Such a shame it’s wasted on my brother.”

“Aegon.”

The stern voice of his brother made his eyes widen for a fraction of a second and he quickly schooled his expression, quickly removing his hands from his new good sister, plastering on a smirk so his brother wouldn’t see how successfully he could intimidate him.

She turned, meeting the questioning gaze of her husband. She nodded subtly, silently assuring him she was ok. 

He’d been chatting with her brother but the moment he spotted her in Aegon’s arms, he had abruptly given his well wishes to his new family and was quickly making his way to rescue her from his lecherous brother’s grip.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded eagerly, linking her arm through his, more than eager to say goodbye to the feast and make her way to bed with her new husband. 

“What, no bedding ceremony?” Aegon called out, forcing Aemond to send him a wicked glare. 

“Not if you wish to live, brother.” He spat and turned on his heel, desperate to get his wife far away from his depravity. 

He was more than thankful his good father had appealed to his father about doing away with the bedding ceremony. The Lord of Ixtal cared about his daughter too much to put her through that embarrassment. 

“Did he do anything?” He asked under his breath as they walked away, ignoring the cheers of congratulations from the guests he cared little for.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched in anger, his instincts telling him to turn back and threaten his brother within an inch of his life for daring to speak to his wife in ways that were anything but cordial. 

The moment they stepped out of the grand hall, allowing them a brief moment of privacy in the empty hallway, she pulled her arm from his and took his hands in her own, turning to face him, a soft smile on her face.

“Don’t let him ruin our night. This isn’t about him or anyone else. It’s about us.” 

He let out a long breath and nodded, though it wasn’t an easy feat to let go of the anger that burned hotly at the mere mention of his debauched brother’s attention on his love. 

“Besides, I’m quite eager to get to bed and if my husband chooses to delay any longer, I might begin to rethink this union.” She teased, smiling victoriously as his eye darkened with desire.

Her laughter echoed in the halls as Aemond practically dragged her to their chambers, his quick pace signaling he was equally as eager as she was to lose themselves in bliss.

~~

She lay draped across his bare chest, the sheets pooled at their hips. She hummed in contentment, her limbs aching, her eyes heavy with exhaustion as Aemond gently ran his fingers up and down the length of her arm. 

Any other night, his touch would lull her into much needed sleep, but the excitement that continued to course through her veins stubbornly kept her eyes open. 

She turned her head, looking up at her husband.

Gods, she would never get over saying that.

He looked down, their shared smiles growing as their gazes met. 

Her hand that was placed on his strong chest cheekily began to move lower, making him laugh.

“You can’t possibly be needing more.” He spoke tiredly. They had already gone multiple rounds, he had already pulled a countless number of orgasms from her. 

“I thought I married a dragon.” She teased. “Are you saying you no longer have the stamina to please your wife?” 

Aemond’s gaze darkened, his exhaustion worn out by his desire she could so effortlessly spark. 

“You dare to doubt me, wife?” He crooned, knowing how deeply the word affected her, watching with satisfaction as she practically preened against him, a wickedly delightful thrill coursing through her at the mention of their newly married status. 

She laughed and pushed at his chest, forcing him to lay back onto the pillows below him. He eagerly expected her to crawl atop him and ride him in the deliriously, mind bending way she could, but he was left in a pleasured surprise as she began to press heated kisses across his abdomen, moving lower torturously slowly.

He let out a heavy breath, his body thrumming with anticipation. He hissed as she took him in her mouth, his head falling back, already feeling weak under her touch, sensitive from his previous leg-shaking peaks. 

Her wicked tongue knew exactly what to do to render him a useless fool who couldn’t remember his own name. His hand tangled in her hair that was already a mess from their previous passionate rounds. 

His breath left him in heavy pants as she worked him with her mouth at a quick pace. He knew her well, he knew the determined glint in her eye signaled trouble for him. She went further and further and took him deep in her mouth until the tip of him hit the back of her throat. 

He whined, writhing against the bed, his hand that wasn’t pulling at her hair pathetically fisting the sheets below him in an effort to keep himself tethered to some semblance of control that she was steadily shattering. 

“You are wicked.” He moaned, the delight in his voice causing her lips to curl around him in the guise of a victorious smile. 

His lips were parted with a litany of moans and whines as he watched her, eagerly taking in the sight of her, his cock in her mouth, her eyes alight with desire, greedily taking his pleasure. She sped up the pace of her mouth, delighted at the sound of his loud groan echoing throughout the room. 

His toes began to curl, his weak body, already spent from hours of ecstasy, leaving him powerless under her. 

He called out her name frantically, sounding more debauched than he ever would have imagined he could have. 

“Oh fuck, just like that, darling, don’t stop.” 

She doubled her efforts, eager to see him fall apart. She loved to hear his noises of pleasure, to see him so unrestrained as he let himself fall to the haze of bliss. His back arched, both of his hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair, as if to ensure she wouldn’t leave him wanting, that she stayed worshiping him as she was, as only she could.

“Love,” He warned, feeling his end nearing, feeling the familiar fire beginning to stir within him, one that came before a powerful release. With only a few more flicks of her tongue, he felt himself shatter. 

He cried out, a loud, desperate sound most wouldn’t believe to have come from the surly Prince, as he came. His vision was stolen from him as he had squeezed his eye shut in the moment of climax, though he wouldn’t have denied that she had just extricated his soul from his body, leaving him to lose what was left of his sight. He didn’t doubt she had the ability. 

His chest heaved, his jaw slack, small whines leaving him as she was slow to part from him, her mouth lazily working his spent cock that twitched in overstimulation at her touch. 

He reached for her blindly, his limbs weak as though he had just fought a grueling battle. She grabbed his hand, laughing softly at the sight of him thoroughly exhausted. 

She allowed him to pull her over him, his hands desperate to touch her, to feel her close to him, to prolong the pleasure running through him. 

He kissed her hand, his lips moving up the length of her arm until he reached her neck, smiling at the sound of the contented noise that left her lips as he found the spot that always made her giggle with ticklish delight. 

“One of these days you are going to stop my heart.” He told her, still working to catch breath. 

“I would never do such a thing.” 

He smiled and kissed her firmly, his mind a haze of delirium. He briefly wondered if he was dreaming, for this seemed too perfect to be his life. He kissed her again, as if to confirm that this was real, that the woman that just brought him pleasure like no other was truly before him, that he was lucky enough to now call her his wife. 

“Give me five minutes and I will return the favor.”

~~

Their marriage was nothing short of blissful. Now there was no longer a need to hide, the public was shocked by how affectionate the dragon Prince acted towards his wife. One was seldom seen without the other. 

Maids constantly gossiped about the salacious noises heard from their shared chambers practically all hours of the day. With the noises the new Princess made nightly they couldn’t help but begin to lust over the elusive Prince, or at least wish he could give some tips to their own lovers. They almost fought over who got to service the Prince and his new wife to catch a glimpse of the lovesick expression on the feared one-eyed dragon’s face. 

It had to be seen to be believed. 

They knew it wouldn’t be long until the announcement of a new Targaryen babe was made. 

Aemond hated the attention. He wished he could take his wife across the sea and indulge in their newly wedded bliss in private. 

He had just sneered at yet another passing Lady who practically fawned at the sight of the two of them, when she laughed, tucking her arm tighter in his. 

They had simply been walking in the gardens together and still couldn’t escape the gossiping Ladies of the court who could talk of nothing else but their marriage and ponder about the feared one-eyed Prince’s new found prowess among the Ladies. 

“Do they have nothing better to do?” Aemond muttered in annoyance.

“Our novelty will wear off soon.” She assured him. “They are just not quite used to seeing you so… soft.”

“I am not soft.”

She laughed, the sound causing him to look over at his wife incredulously. The disbelieving look on his face only had her suppressing more laughter, 

“Tell me, dear husband, if I told you my legs were hurting and I couldn’t possibly make it to that bench over there, would you not carry me?”

Aemond regarded her for a moment, an almost imperceptible pout growing on his lips as he contemplated the situation. He knew there was no way he wouldn’t indulge her in anything she asked for. 

“That does not make me soft.” He answered defensively, though he knew he was a lost cause. 

She giggled at the obvious answer as they continued to walk. Aemond looked over at her, eyeing her carefully for a few moments, his brows furrowing.

“Your legs are not hurting are they?” 

Her laughter rang out in the gardens as she leaned in closer to his side. Aemond felt his own smile tugging at his lips and he placed a kiss to the top of her head.

He knew he would endure all of the petty gossip that came his way. He would endure a lot worse just to hear that laugh again. 

He almost couldn’t believe the bliss he was living in. He loved her more than he thought it was possible to love someone. Now that they no longer had to hide their true feelings for each other, now that they were married and could freely show affection without any repercussions, he found himself living in a dreamlike state. 

It felt too good to be true. 

Every day was spent showing the rest of the court just how much she meant to him, how he was hers and she was his and no one else mattered, while late nights were spent tangled in bed, their limbs weak with pleasure, a time just for them and no one else. 

As she got up to pour them another cup of wine they had been drinking before he had dragged her to their bed, she looked over her shoulder at her husband who was looking up at the ceiling tiredly, a content smile on his face.

“Have I finally worn you out?” She teased as she handed him his cup. 

He chuckled softly and took the cup, drinking down much needed swallows of the sweet wine. She crawled back into bed beside him, settling herself in his open arms once again. She pressed teasing kisses across his chest, feeling the hum of soft moans that escaped him. 

He cupped her face and kissed her firmly, the gesture lacking much heat as they were both thoroughly spent from the haze of pleasure they’d been tangled in for hours. 

He pulled away, letting his forehead rest against hers as he took her in, simply admiring his wife with an awe that was certainly not unfamiliar to either of them. 

She noticed a flicker of something she didn’t recognize flash across his face, his eye softening almost imperceptibly. 

“What’s on your mind, Love?” She asked, nuzzling in closer to him as she sensed his sudden anxious energy. 

He stayed quiet for a moment longer, carefully contemplating his next words and if he should divulge the sudden thought in his head to her. 

“What if…” He started softly, his teeth worrying his lip as he feared her reaction. “What if you didn’t drink any moon tea tomorrow?”

Her expression smoothed out in surprise at his request. She couldn’t deny that it was something she had thought of since their wedding, but she had never spoken of her fantasies of silver haired children with her husband. She knew he had complicated feelings for his own family, especially his father, and she never wanted to bring it up in fear of pushing him to something he feared.  

“Is that something you want?” 

“I want everything with you.” He told her sincerely. 

The beaming smile that grew on her lips soothed every ounce of anxiety he had and he breathed out deeply, leaning forward to kiss her once more. 

“You’re going to be a wonderful father.” 

Her whispered words made his insides twist and flutter in ways that left him holding back the flood of emotions he hadn’t expected, her words soothing the deep rooted anxiety he felt at the prospect of starting a family, no matter how badly he wanted it. He had no way to tell her how grateful he was for her, there were no words conceivable to tell her the depth of his love for her. 

So he settled for kissing her, silently thanking the Gods above for bringing him to the woman in his arms. 

~~

Aemond stepped into their shared chambers the same time he always did, his perfect hair slightly disheveled from his time spent training. He stopped in his tracks, the warmth in his expression gone in an instant as he eyed the Maester sitting before her with growing apprehension.

“What’s wrong?” 

She laughed at his blatant worry as he approached her quickly, reaching for her hand. 

“Everything’s fine, Darling.” 

“What happened?” He turned to ask the Maester, all care gone from his voice, leaving nothing but strict power as he demanded an answer. 

“The Princess wasn’t feeling well this morn-”

“Are you alright? Why didn’t you tell me?” He interrupted, turning his attention back to her, his concerned tone back in full force, all traces of the demanding Prince gone as he kneeled before her, his expression wracked with worry. 

She smiled again in amusement and looked to the Maester. 

“Would you mind giving us a moment?” 

The old man nodded respectfully, giving her a warm smile and hastily leaving the room, most likely relieved to gain some distance from the dragon Prince with the feared temper. 

She intertwined her fingers with Aemond’s, taking in a deep breath as she prepared herself to bring him the life changing news. 

“I have been feeling a little off the last few days and I called the Maester to confirm my suspicion.” She explained vaguely, her mischievous smirk remaining as she watched Aemond’s brow furrow deeper in concern. 

“And?”

Deciding to finally let her husband off the hook and spare him his heart that was no doubt racing in anticipation, his dramatic mind probably conjuring horrible conclusions, she guided his hand forward, letting his palm rest flatly on her stomach. 

She watched him carefully, noting the exact moment he realized what she was telling him. His lips parted and his gaze moved from his hand to her face abruptly, his eye shrouded in disbelief, looking at her pleadingly, as if needing confirmation that this was real. 

She let out a laugh and nodded, tears brimming in her eyes at the pure love she saw in Aemond’s. He let out a breathless laugh, the sound of delight one she had never remembered ever hearing from him before. He grabbed her hands, swiftly bringing her to her feet and barely a second later, he was hugging her tightly, his hands gripping onto her desperately.

Her delighted laughter filled the room as he twirled her around, the moment filled with nothing but elation. 

“Thank you.” He whispered from where his head rested in the crook of her neck. 

She smiled, her own emotions rising at the sound of him so touched, so loved. 

He pulled out of the embrace, his gaze immediately falling to her stomach that had yet to show any evidence of the life that grew there. He pictured it swelling, the bump that would grow with their child, the life they had created together and he was sure his heart was moment away from bursting out of sheer love. 

“I can’t believe it.” He breathed out in awe. It had only been about a month since they had made the decision to forgo moontea, he had no idea it would happen for them this quickly. 

“With how often you take me to bed, surely this isn’t a surprise.” 

He looked almost proud at her jest and she shook her head, pulling him in for another embrace that he gladly returned, his arms holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world and if anyone were to ask, Aemond would certainly agree. 

He kissed the top of her head and pulled back, taking her face in his hands as he looked down at her reverently.

“You have given me more than I ever could have imagined I would have.” He told her honestly. “You’ve made me the happiest man to ever live.” 

He kissed her with all the love he could, hoping it would be enough to convey every ounce of adoration he held for her. 

However, their peace didn’t last long. 

Rhaenyra and her sons would soon be arriving at King’s Landing to counter Vaemond Velaryon’s petition for the Driftmark throne.

The moment Aemond heard the news, he became reserved, building that familiar brooding wall around him, portraying that of the feared one-eyed prince the court loved to gossip about. 

The night before they were due to arrive, he had resided in their chambers, wishing to avoid the prying eyes of the court and their whispers about his bastard nephews and the likelihood of there being another duel between them that would result in bloodshed.

He heard the door of their shared chambers open and close, but his gaze remained on the flickering flames in the hearth in front of him. 

“There you are.” Her sweet voice called out, his wife taking her place at his side. “I’ve barely seen you all day.”

“I’ve been here.” He responded softly, his voice lacking its usual warmth that was always present with her. 

She watched him carefully, knowing exactly what was eating away at him, but hesitant to mention it, unsure of how he would react. The mere mention of his nephews was enough to incite his rage. 

“Do you wish to talk about it?” She asked softly.

“No.”

His voice was curt, betraying just how tormented he felt. A flare of pain lashed his scar, the sapphire in place of his eye seemingly burning, as if the thought of that Strong bastard’s imminent arrival alone could cut him like the dagger he wielded that night. 

A tense silence lingered between them, one they both hated. 

With a pained hiss, he tore his eye path off, tossing it to the side carelessly, his sharp features contorted in pain. He leaned his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands as the sapphire in his eye bloomed with pain. 

It wasn’t often the wound still caused him aggravation, but in the moments it did, he always felt like he was that young, helpless boy again. His hands shook slightly as the pain flared so deeply it was all he could do to breathe through it. 

Within seconds he felt gentle hands on his, carefully prying them from his face. He looked up to his wife sitting before him, the concern on her face stirring his emotions he tried desperately to hold back. 

He noticed the vial of ointment in her hands, the one the Maesters gave to him to use whenever his wound became unbearable. He was tense as she cradled his cheek, her thumb caressing the edge of his scar, her eyes taking in the angry looking wound. She had seen him do this for himself a few times but he had never let her do it before. 

She looked at him thoughtfully, posing a silent question to which he nodded slightly, still hesitant to let her touch what was his greatest shame, but the pain was becoming unbearable, he was left out of options. 

She dipped her finger into the ointment and carefully applied it to his eye, her own heart racing as she felt her husband was baring a piece of himself he had been adamant on hiding for so long. 

As her fingers brushed as gently as possible across his wounded eye, the cooling ointment bringing him relief immediately, he finally started to let himself relax, releasing a long breath. 

She reached out with her other hand, laying it over his own that was still clenched into a fist, beginning to trace meaningless shapes over his knuckles. Her touch soothed something in him he didn’t even know could be soothed, the simple gesture enough for him to feel comforted in a way only she could give him. He sighed loudly as he sank into his seat, the rigidity leaving him limb by limb. 

Smiling softly at the sight of him so much calmer than before, she moved to sit next to him once she was finished. Aemond was quick to close the distance between them, moving in closer to her side, taking her hand in his, eager for her touch. 

“Thank you.” He whispered, the look of reverence he sent her stirring her own emotions and she suddenly found herself on the verge of tears. She would never understand what he went through as a child, she would never understand what he felt for his nephews, but she was adamant she would be there for him in the moments he struggled. 

“You never need to thank me for this.” She assured him. 

Another heavy breath escaped him, as if his ire was leaving him with each exhale. His resentment was no match for the love his wife gave him. It would succumb to her each and every time. 

His hand roamed gently over her body, eventually finding its place on her stomach, where it stayed, pulling a small laugh from her.

“You do realize there’s no bump yet.”

Aemond just shrugged, the look of contentment on his face a far cry from the derision that had steadily remained all day. 

“It doesn’t matter. He’s still in there.”

“He?”

He seemed bashful as he looked up at his wife, a slight blush on his cheeks, as if embarrassed to admit the many nights he spent thinking about their child, imagining their son as the perfect mix of them both, of how much he already loved their child. 

“It’s just a feeling.” 

She began to picture it, Aemond cradling their son, his eyes the same vibrant blue of his father’s, his smile wide, his cheeks chubby, every bit of him absolutely perfect. 

Her own smile grew, her vision growing blurry as tears gathered in her eyes at the thought, her hormones that were now on a hair trigger since her pregnancy, coming to a head. 

“Hey,” Aemond called out in concern, reaching up to caress her cheek and she shook her head, letting out a small laugh.

“They’re happy tears.” 

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her softly. It was easy to forget the turmoil he felt, that he was soon to face the object of his anger, when he was next to his wife, their child growing within her. 

That night, he was ravenous. He had taken her with a fervor he hadn’t felt in weeks. He had been insatiable when he knew of her pregnancy, but he seemed to treat her like glass, as if she were now delicate because of the precious life that grew within her. 

His touches had always been gentle, but urgent, hungry yet loving. 

Tonight, he was starved. He fucked her as if they were newlyweds again, every touch portraying just how desperate he felt for her. 

“Aemond!” She cried out, her hands tangled in his hair, pulling hard as he brought her to yet another blissful orgasm.

He growled, burying his face in the crook of her neck, the enticing nip at her neck making her moan. His steady pace never faltered, his powerful hips crashing against hers as he chased his own end. 

Her cries turned to laughs, delirious with pleasure. 

“I love you.” She breathed out and screamed as his pace became quicker, his thrusts becoming harsher, more frantic as he quickly approached his high. 

“Say it again.” He growled, now hovering over her as he gazed down at the beauty beneath him, his eye and the striking sapphire a sight that left her shivering under his tight grip.

“I love you.” She repeated, hoping he believed every word, hoping he knew just how much she cherished him, how much he meant to her. “You are the only man I’ve ever loved, the only man I’ll ever love for the rest of my life.”

His jaw clenched, his eye squeezing shut as the sight of her below him, writhing in pleasure, was just too much to handle. He was powerless against her. 

His thrusts became relentless, the bed shaking beneath them with every one of his brutal strokes. 

He breathed harshly, feeling as though flames were alight in his veins. 

“Again.” He commanded roughly. 

She shivered at the commanding edge of his voice, her toes curling as she felt sparks ignite within her. 

“I love you, more than anything.” 

Her breathless words were his undoing. He shouted a curse and groaned loudly, his arms feeling weak as he practically fell over her, never stopping his movements, his cock thrusting into her almost violently as he came, his body shaking against hers. 

She gasped at the feeling of him spilling inside her, her arms wrapping tighter around him, her head thrown back as she cried out, his name falling from her lips in a chant, as if he were a deity she prayed to for salvation. 

“I love you.” She whispered breathlessly and began to laugh tiredly as he planted kisses over the expanse of her neck, making his way upwards until he met her lips, kissing her soundly, as if she were the very air he breathed. 

“I love you.” He panted in a blissful daze. 

By the next morning, every good feeling Aemond had coveted the night before had dissipated like smoke in the wind. 

He woke early and spared his sleeping wife a kiss to the forehead before heading to the training yard where he spent the rest of the morning, endlessly sparring with Ser Criston and any other worthy opponent available when the knight needed a break from his endless plights. 

Those that dared to step up were left bloody and bruised in a matter of minutes. 

Aemond was wound tightly, his entire being ready to snap as he laid his eye on his nephews for the first time in years. The fury that had been buried deeply within him for years bubbled to the surface with one look at the brown haired bastards. 

The sapphire in place of his eye burned as his glare remained steady on them. 

He preened inwardly as they cowered under his eye. To know they couldn’t meet his gaze brought him more satisfaction than he had expected. He grabbed his sword and gestured to Ser Criston to get into position.

He fought with determination as if he were in actual battle, as if his life was truly threatened and every movement dictated his survival. With every powerful strike of his sword against Criston’s shield, he felt vindicated, as though the years of shame that had come from the bullying he endured from his own brother and nephews stripped off layer by layer with each powerful swing of his weapon. 

His eye drifted to his nephews, a sickly satisfied smirk growing at the sight of their intimidation. 

They held no power over him now. He had made sure of it. 

“Husband.” 

Her voice cut through the haze of victory he had been lavishing in. He turned on his heel, confusion overtaking him as he saw his wife standing in the training yard. He dropped his sword and rushed over to her side. 

“What are you doing down here? Is everything alright?”

She didn’t often make her way down into the training yards and with her current state, he couldn’t help but fret over her every minute of the day he was with her.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t killing yourself before the petition.”

He sighed heavily. He didn’t know if he loved or hated how easily his wife could read him. She took his hand and he let her guide him out of the yard. 

“You’ve been here for hours, I think you’ve earned yourself a break.” 

He opened his mouth to retort, but she stopped him with a knowing look. 

“Based on the looks on your nephews face’s I think you’ve proven everything you needed to prove.”

The smirk that grew on his lips should have worried her, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel any concern for the ire he felt for his nephews. It was more than justified, she just hoped it would be enough, that their visit to the Keep wouldn’t result in any more bloodshed. 

Aemond looked back into the training yard, as if hesitant to leave the glory he’d managed to carve out for himself, for the retribution he felt he had finally earned, no matter how slight it was, but her hand in his forced him back to her in an instant. 

“Don’t let them get to you. They hold no power over you.” She told him softly and he let out a long breath, allowing the hatred that had been clouding him all day roll over him like dark thunder clouds making way for the shining sun to warm up the earth after a vicious storm. 

His hand remained steadily in hers, as if needing her like a lifeline in tumultuous waves. She was the only thing that kept him tethered to himself, that kept him from spiraling into his anger. 

She could see how tense he was and if it were any other day, if they didn’t have royal duties to attend to, she would’ve been content to keep him in their chambers and let him use her to both of their delights until he was spent, too exhausted to feel any anger at all. 

She didn’t like to see him in this state. It was so unlike the sweet boy that had been by her side for years. She didn’t like what her nephews had created in him the night he claimed Vhagar. 

~~

The petition unfolded as she expected. While King Viserys’ presence had been a surprise, Vaemond’s demise certainly wasn’t, especially after the accusations he had spouted to Princess Rhaenyra and her sons. 

Aemond had tugged on her arm, instinctively pulling her behind him as Daemon brought his sword down upon the man. 

He had shielded her from the violent display, something she had been grateful for. With the pregnancy hormones swirling within her, she most often felt nauseous around anything that wasn’t plain bread. The sight of Vaemond’s severed head would’ve been enough to put her off eating for the rest of her life. 

As the court reacted in a frenzy to the brutal display, Aemond had placed his hand on her stomach, his eye looking her over carefully, ready to rush her out of the room at the slightest hint of nausea. 

She gripped his hand and nodded to his silent question, assuring him she was ok, that she wasn’t about to spill her guts in front of everyone, though the darkened look in his eye remained. Who it was targeted at, she wasn’t quite sure. 

Neither one of them had been looking forward to the family dinner Viserys was adamant on hosting. It was as if he was completely oblivious to the tension in the family as he forced them in proximity to each other. 

Aemond had barely spoken a word as they readied themselves for dinner. He was tense, his face drawn tightly, as if he expected the worst to unfold, as if he were facing enemies on a battlefield and not a simple dinner with his family. 

“We don’t have to attend.” She told him, wishing she could protect him from the torment he felt in the face of his nephews. 

He didn’t spare a look to her, every inch of him was shrouded in anger, barely contained fury that he couldn’t shake. He didn’t seem like the man she married at that moment. 

“Why wouldn’t I attend?” He asked, as if his torment wasn’t visible, as if she wasn’t aware of the burning anger he couldn’t shake, the vitriol he experienced as a child coming back to the forefront of his mind, reminding him of the slights that he had been faced with. 

“Aemond,” She started softly. “No one expects you to forgive them.” 

He scoffed, shaking his head, his expression filled with bitter irritation. 

“No one expects me to hold any anger at all.” 

She frowned deeply and approached him slowly, eyeing him carefully. She had never felt so out of depth when it came to her husband but she would be damned if she left him to suffer alone.

“We don’t have to go.”

He clenched his jaw, his eye holding a faraway look, signaling he was deep in thought. 

She reached out, cupping his face in his hands, startling him out of his reverie that was filled with nothing but hatred. 

“You just tell me and we’ll leave. I’ll make an excuse and we can go without any question.”

Her words, her ability to show him she was staunchly in his corner, a feeling no one else had ever assured him of, disarmed him completely. There was one thing his nephews would never take from him, the love he felt from his wife stood the test of time, standing strongly against any other force that dared to weaken him. His eye softened, his hand reaching out to grasp her arm, his fingers gently caressing her skin. 

“What have I done to deserve you?” He whispered, his voice cloaked with reverence, as if surprised by the love she held for him. 

She frowned, hating when he spoke as if he didn’t deserve the love she showed him, as if it was some kind of gift he wasn’t worthy of coveting. 

“You read to me my second day here.” She answered simply, reminding him of the beginning of it all, when they were nothing more than two wonderstruck children. 

He exhaled deeply, desperately wanting to hold onto that feeling that always surrounded him when he thought of their childhood together, like warmth embracing him soundly. 

It was a feeling he kept close to him as they walked to the dining hall, though he knew it was futile. The feeling would be gone, shielded in the depths of him in the face of his family.

As they stepped into the hall, Aemond left her side to grab her a drink from the servers, allowing her to step towards Rhaena and Baela, greeting them politely. Rhaena was quick to give her a smile, while Baela only had distrustful eyes to throw in her direction. 

Her name was called and she turned to see Rhaenyra approaching her with a warm smile. 

She smiled and embraced the Princess slightly awkwardly. She had fond memories of the woman growing up, especially in times when she was desperately missing her own mother, but it had been years since she had seen her and knowing her actions on the night Aemond’s eye had been taken had irrevocably changed her view of the woman since.

“It’s good to see you again, Dear.” Rhaenyra smiled warmly at her. “Where is your father, I was hoping to say hello.”

“He’s at Ixtal. He was missing my mother and decided to take a short visit.” 

“You didn’t join him?”

She felt her cheeks heat at the question and she couldn’t help but smile. 

“I would, but I wasn’t exactly in a good state to travel.” She explained and placed her hand on her stomach exaggeratedly. 

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened and she beamed a smile, laughing happily. 

“That is wonderful news.” The Princess congratulated. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.” 

A hand on the small of her back made her look up to see her husband now at her side, his steely eye locked onto his half-sister whose smile faltered at his sudden presence. She cleared her throat, her demeanor now tense as she nodded politely in greeting.

Rhaenyra left their side quickly, leaving her to wonder just how deeply one family could fracture. She couldn’t imagine ever greeting her brothers in that manner. She couldn’t imagine hating the ones she shared blood with. 

Letting out a long breath, knowing she was in for an eventful night, she turned to Aemond, placing her hand on his arm that was stiff, as if he wouldn't allow himself to relax or even take a breath in their presence. 

They all took their seats, the tension in the room strangling as King Viserys was carried in. 

She held back a grimace at the sight of the decrepit King. He was a far cry from the man she had met all those years ago, far from the man who was a dear friend to her father. 

The awkward aura in the room remained steadfast, with most avoiding eye contact with each other. Even Viserys’ heartened speech about family and the uniting of the house of the dragon did little to mend the obvious rift in the family.

Until Rhaenyra stood. She was shocked to hear her speak such lovely words about the Queen and for the Queen to return the sentiment. 

Their apparent truce for the time being broke the tension, though her husband at her side remained tense, his lone eye unflinchingly cold as he regarded his distant family. 

Her eyes kept circling back to him, as if waiting for the moment he would strike. She wondered when the wood of the chair under his white-knuckled grip would splinter. She wondered when the night would take an irredeemable turn.

She didn’t even get to enjoy Helaena’s thinly veiled jab towards Aegon in her toast, she was too worried about her husband to pay attention to the others around her. 

When the music began, signaling the end of the toasts, she leaned back in her seat, giving her husband a small encouraging smile, anticipating that they had made it through the worst the night had to offer. 

Aemond remained stiff as stone, his posture straight and rigid. She noticed his eye darken further, his gaze locked past her and she turned, her brows furrowing slightly as Jacaerys stepped towards her, a hopeful smile on his face.

“Would you care to dance, Princess?” He asked, offering her his hand. 

She stared at his hand for a long second, contemplating her choices. With the entirety of the table watching the exchange, she knew she had little choice but to accept his offer. 

She spared a brief glance to her husband beside her and the fury that blazed in his lone eye would have melted the wall in the great north. With a heavy breath, she gingerly took Jace’s hand and stood from her seat, allowing him to guide her away from the table.

Her husband’s gaze practically burned at her back. 

Aemond watched with barely contained rage as the bastard danced with his wife. His teeth grinded together so harshly it was a wonder they didn’t crack. He briefly contemplated what the repercussions would be if he murdered the Strong bastard where he stood. 

The fire within him was simmering, ready to unleash as he watched another man touch his wife. The smile on the bastard’s face left Aemond wondering whether he should slit his throat, dismember him, or let Vhagar turn him to ash. 

None of the choices seemed punishment enough. 

As Jace twirled her, her eyes briefly met Aemond’s and her stomach twisted at his expression. She knew tonight wouldn’t end peacefully. 

She flinched slightly as Jace quickly spun her back into his arms, causing her to almost crash into his chest, forcing her much closer to him than she felt was necessary. She leaned back to gain some distance, hoping it wasn’t noticeable, hoping her husband hadn’t been able to tell she had been uncomfortable for a mere second.

Jace would be dead and buried before the sun rose if that were the case. 

“I have to admit, I was quite shocked when I heard the news of your wedding.” Jace suddenly spoke, keeping his voice low so only she would hear. 

“What was so shocking?”

“I didn’t expect you to end up with someone like him.”

“Someone like him? You mean my oldest friend?” She questioned, disdain creeping through her tone, her defenses raised, which didn’t allow her the wherewithal to speak in a friendly manner. 

Jace sighed, as if wanting to dispute the simple fact that she and Aemond had been close for years before marriage was even a thought in either of their heads. 

“You two are very different.” He said with a slight shrug. “I pictured you with someone more… warm, romantic even.” 

“I assure you, my prince, my husband is plenty romantic. You do not need to worry yourself about my marriage.” She smiled stiffly. 

Jace, seeming to sense her attitude, remained silent for the remainder of the dance. As the song ended, she politely curtsied and was walking back to the table before he could rise from his bow. 

The tension didn’t dissipate as she took her seat at her husband’s side once more. If anything, the fury radiating from the man beside her only set her more on edge. Aemond leaned into her, making her shoulders tense both in apprehension and desire. 

“If he touches you again, I will break every bone in his body.” Aemond hissed in her ear, smirking delightedly at the shiver she repressed. 

She looked up at him, his fury now morphed into an insatiable hunger only she could tame. She knew she would be in for a long night. 

She was just thankful he seemed to be feeling anything other than murderous rage. 

But it did not last long. 

She had been speaking quietly to Helaena, Aemond’s hand in hers, his thumb caressing over her knuckles a steady comfort when he suddenly pulled away. 

She barely had time to look over at her husband before he was bolting out of his chair. His fist that slammed on the table made her flinch in surprise, her wide eyes looking up at him in confusion.

“Final tribute.” 

Her heart raced wildly in her chest, her gaze wandering around the table, wondering what could have possibly stoked his fury. It wasn’t until she saw the sheepish guilt that permeated with fear on Lucerys’ expression that she began to understand. 

“To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… strong.”

She felt her breath hitch in her throat, her wide eyed gaze meeting Alicent’s for a brief moment, his mother looking equally as petrified for what was to unfold. 

“Let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.”

She sent her husband a pleading look, but it was lost on him, his gaze, full of hatred, cemented on his nephews. 

“I dare you to say that again.”

“Why? Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”

She gasped, her hand covering her mouth as Jace landed a punch to Aemond’s cheek. The room erupted in chaos. She could watch with disappointment as her husband pushed his nephew to the ground, as Aegon joined in and shoved Lucerys against the table. 

Helaena stood from her seat and rushed towards her, her face shrouded in fear. She sighed and stood from her seat, wrapping her arm around her friend who seemed disturbed by the rift tearing in her family before her. 

“It’s alright.” She assured her. 

Across the room, Rhaenyra’s eyes bored into hers, pleading, as if she had any control over her husband’s ire. She sent her an apologetic look and bowed her head, wishing Aemond had taken up her offer to avoid the dinner altogether. 

The room came to a standstill, the fighting men separated, a room divided by two factions. 

Aemond glared at his uncle who looked at him as if disappointed, as if he were out of line to enact revenge for the slight against him. 

He grit his teeth and in a quick motion, swallowed the wine left in his cup before turning back to the table. He avoided looking at his wife as he grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him as he stormed out of the room.

Her feet moved quickly to keep up with his quick pace, her heart in her throat as he led them through the halls.

Once they were back in their chambers, her eyes seldom left him, watching every one of his movements carefully, noticing how highly strung he still was, how stiffly he moved as paced for a moment before he finally took a seat on the edge of the bed. 

His anger wouldn’t be leaving him easily. 

“Are you alright?”

He stayed quiet for a long moment, gazing ahead blankly, the burning fury that simmered in his veins leaving him practically trembling, the desire to wreak havoc not yet dissipating. 

Every part of him was wrought with tension, his mind a mess of thoughts, though his anger was the easiest to make sense of. 

“Don’t try to convince me that what I did was wrong.” He spoke bitterly.

“I won’t.” 

His jaw clenched, the events of the last few minutes running through his head on a loop, keeping him in the state of rage that made him shake, that made his hands twitch, wishing he had done more, wishing he could hurt that bastard the way he had been hurt all those years ago.

The thought briefly startled him. It was a thought he used to have frequently, when the rage in his heart was so new he didn’t know what to do with it. It was a thought he hadn’t focused on since being with her. 

The revelation had an unfamiliar upset stirring within him.

“I should sleep in my old chambers tonight.” He muttered tersely. 

The bitter anger burned within him, he felt on the edge of cracking and he would hate himself if he ever took it out on her, his sweet wife. He felt he needed to be far away from her to avoid darkening her with his presence.

“What?”

The sadness in her voice almost broke him. He closed his eye and bowed his head, he couldn’t bear to see the look on her face. 

“I don’t want you to see me like this.” 

It was quiet for a long moment, his words lingering in the room like an ominous death rattle that signaled the bitter end after a long, torturous fight. 

But she refused to let him sink into his despair. 

He flinched as she stepped before him, catching his gaze. Her hands smoothed out the doublet he wore, roaming upwards to brush the hair off his shoulders and gently caressing his neck as she reached up to hold his jaw affectionately. 

He let out a deep breath, the tension slowly but surely easing from him in waves under her touch. 

“I am not letting you feel this alone.” She told him, her voice soft yet stern, letting him know there was no way he would change her mind about this, that nothing could force her to accept his absence from her side. 

“I don’t seem to recognize myself around them.”

His whispered confession hit her harder than she had expected and she felt her breath hitch in her throat, her own emotions rising to the surface at the sight of him so tormented. 

“You can never undo what they took from you.” She began slowly, her voice wavering slightly. “I’ll never understand what you’ve been through. I wish I could and I’m so sorry I don’t, but you cannot let this consume you.”

His face remained a mask of torment, his derision and anger battling against the exhaustion that permeated his bitterness, that left him feeling weak in the aftermath of his rage. 

She gently guided him to tilt his head upward so she could look at him, so he could see her and the resolution on her face and understand her honesty.

“You are more than your eye. You are more than the rage you feel when you look at them. You are more than them.”

He almost shuddered under her hands, the words striking him with force as though they were dealt with a physical hit. 

“I see you, the real you. The one I fell in love with, my sweet husband, the father of my child.” 

With that, she grabbed his hand to place it over her stomach and his expression changed in an instant, the anger gone as he caressed where his child grew. 

He leaned forward, his forehead falling to rest against her chest, his arms circling her waist. He spread his legs, allowing her to step closer to him, her own arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding him tightly. 

She ran her fingers through his hair, the soft motions pulling a soft sound from deep within him, his rigid body falling lax against her. 

As she hugged him tightly she felt her eyes begin to sting with tears. She wished she could pull the agony from him, untangle the strings of rage that wound him so tightly. 

She wished she could’ve gone back in time and held tighter to the wounded boy who hid his despair from her for so long. 

~~

The girls are fightinggg

And the angst is coming xx

~~

Tag List:

@jacaeryslover @allsouls-emma @lianna75 @emoxio @noneedtosearch @watashiwasun @guacam011y @darlingisntit @trickycarrot89-blog @stcrrjoon @knyam @bettysexile @marysucks-blog @lovelyteenagebeard @anehkael @darktrashsoulbear @violetiss3lfish @hueanhdang @mamawiggers1980 @azaleapotterblack @littlestarfighter03 @discofairysworld @ner-dee

[docdudo]

Familiar 141 - Young Witch!Reader (Part 2)

“Aww, look at these sparks…” Gaz coos gently, watching your scared little figure curled up in the back of the nest as you try your best to use your magic to keep them away. “For a baby witch? Isn’t that just precious?”

A heavy grunt scares you enough for your magic to just die right then and there, your head whipping to the side where the big bastard of a familiar was sitting. His body looked completely relaxed, arms crossed and eyes focused on your little form curled against the wall.

“Careful, little witch,” Ghost warns, voice low and heavy, making you just stare at him with even more terror. “Might get hurt.”

“Ow, just let the lassie get everything out, she’s scared.” Soap smiles big, laying down on his belly, looking up at you with both hands holding his head up like a teenage girl in love or something.

He was so close to your curled-up legs too, almost asking for a kick in his face.

“We’re such good familiars, baby. No need to try to harm us,” Gaz coos again, crawling a little closer to your little form.

His movement was enough to startle you, magic immediately coming to life as your hands sparked hot red for a second.

Only to die right away thanks to big, warm hands enveloping your little ones and forcing your magic down easily.

“Our strong baby witch,” Ghost rumbles in an animalistic way, his giant hands holding yours close to his chest now that he was by your side. “It’s okay, calm yourself. You can get hurt like this, darlin’.”

“M-My magic…!” you manage to exclaim, a mix of indignation and fear as you look up at his face with big, wide eyes.

“No guidance, no preparation, no form.” Price’s voice immediately alerts you, making you look at the end of the room where the oldest familiar was quietly preparing something on that stupid high table of his. “It is pretty incredible that you have such high-level magic for a baby witch with no Coven, but it’s not good to try and use your magic at any given time like this.”

“I-I can use—I know how to use my magic…!” you protest slightly, now more indignant than anything else, little hands still stuck in the bigger familiar’s grasp.

You pretend not to notice the way he was rubbing your hands gently, not letting go.

“Never said you couldn’t, doll,” Price smirks a little as he spares you a glance from his chair. “Just saying it’s not smart. Might get hurt; even experienced witches lose control of their magic from time to time.”

“And no one’s expecting a baby to have the best control, mo leanbh,” Soap adds, still laying down with a big, dumb smile plastered on his stupid face.

It made you annoyed enough to uncurl one of your legs and… kinda kick his face? Well, not kick, more like push his face to the side as you press your little foot to his cheek. He didn’t seem to mind, though, a stupid grin as he lets you do as you want.

“Such a gentle little witch too…” Gaz mumbles, approaching once again to nuzzle against your side gently. Yeah, no, this jerk has to be a cat or something. “It has been ages since the last time I saw an actual baby witch….”

“They are always so well-hidden deep in Covens. A pity, too, that our last witch dinae take much interest in them.” Soap agrees easily, still not doing anything about your socked foot on his face.

You try to push him more, but he doesn’t really budge.

“Let go,” you grumble at Ghost, trying to free your hands as you glare (such a cute glare, he could look at your baby-ish, cute expression for decades) at him.

“Aww, but baby, what if you try to use your magic again?” And you know the second that you see the pout on Gaz’s lips that he’s mocking you. The audacity…!

“Boys, stop that, you’re going to overwhelm her—“

“G-Get away…!” You raise your voice a bit more, squirming against them, trying to free your hands from the restraining grip and trying to push the face against your foot farther from you.

And then you feel Soap grip your ankle. Gently, but he grips it nonetheless.

And then you’re crying, overwhelmed.

“Oh no, no, no, no, didn’t mean it, lassie!” Soap quickly lets go, getting up on his knees with a worried expression.

Ghost also lets your hands go, almost as if he was burned, and you immediately start to rub your face and eyes, sniffling as you try to contain your tears.

“I’m so sorry, hun, I’m sorry, I was being an asshole, wasn’t I…?” Gaz is also quick to apologize, lowering his body enough to be smaller than you as he bumps his head quietly against your arm, regret written all over his face.

Price lets out a heavy sigh from his chair, rubbing his face with the hand that isn’t working with something on the table.

“I know none of us are used to baby witches, but boys, you have to tone down. She’s not a mature witch; she can’t take your provocations like this.”

“Ah dinae even provoke…!” Soap immediately protests, hands hesitating around you as he tries to calm you down. “Gaz did it…!”

“Oh, shut it, Tav.” He growls quietly, shuffling a bit to your side as you keep sniffling and trying to control your tears.

And then, a black cat jumps onto your lap. A big, fluffy black cat. It confuses you for a second until you remember what familiars are, and you quietly settle down a little, hands hesitantly touching the cat now laying on top of your legs, looking up at you with big, yellow eyes.

The other familiars seem to calm down too as they see you calming down. Ghost is still unmoving by your side, but he doesn’t seem like a ball of anxiety anymore, and Soap also settles down in front of you, sitting on the mattress with a relieved sigh.

“Ghost, Soap, come ‘ere,” Price calls, approaching the nest now with what looks like four gold bands on his hands.

“Oh, we’re doing it already?” Soap asks, eyes big in excitement as he quickly grabs one of the gold bands. “Ah’ll start!”

You watch in almost shock as he quickly slashes a cut on his hand with just his long nails, rubbing his blood over the band before turning to you with a big, delighted grin, his hand coming up to gently, but firmly, pull your right leg closer to him.

“Johnny MacTavish, mah beirn.” And then, the band locks on your ankle, a flash of light blinding you for a second, your magic twisting inside of you in response to what you thought was his own magic coming into contact.

The cat jumps out of your lap in a quick movement, becoming a man in the span of a second and grabbing the other gold band, also swiping his nails against his arm to let his blood drip onto the gold.

“’M so sorry, sweetie, I’ll keep myself in check, yeah?” Gaz smiles gently, pulling your left leg forward with his hand. “Kyle Garrick.”

Another flash of light, another band locked in place, and once again, your magic twists inside you as soon as it comes into contact with his.

“Ugh…” You wince slightly, curling up a bit on yourself at the intense feeling.

“Is she hurting…?” Soap mumbles, unsure, looking at you worriedly.

“Probably a bit weirded out with some of our magic seeping through to hers…” Kyle says calmly, though he is also worried, pushing your hair a little out of your face.

“Even though we’re forcing the bond indirectly, she’s bound to feel some kind of discomfort…” Price nods, offering the third band to Ghost. “It would be way worse if we were actually doing the bond pact right off the bat. That’s for when she’s older.”

Ghost grunts as he bites down on his hand, rubbing the blood messily against the shining gold. You try to scoot away from him, but one of his hands immediately goes for your small back, pulling you close and grabbing your right arm.

“Simon Riley.” Immediately, the gold band locks on your wrist, a new wave of magic coming through you and almost knocking you out.

“Price, be gentle…” Kyle murmurs, frowning a bit at your pinched expression as he quietly tries to soothe you.

“Lass might pass out…” Soap observes, hand coming to your hair to pull it out of your face slightly.

“It’s going to be quick,” Price nods, approaching you and pulling your left arm close to him. He gently pulls it close, and with a small kiss against your palm, he locks the band in place. “John Price.”

The magic running through you is immediately bothered once again, twisting out of the way of a new presence as you squirm and whine in their arms. It’s getting hard to stay awake, your body still too weak and young to take the presence of four powerful familiars tied to you. Sure, it’s a weak bond, not a proper pact, but it would be unreal for a witch your age to manage to endure a bond pact. That’s probably why they chose this option in the first place; like this, you’re all tied together, and your young body and mind will be able to get used to them as time passes for a proper pact in the future.

For now, though, it’s all a little too much as you loose consciousness in their arms, feeling four traces of ancient magic stick to your much younger magic core.

[okaylikeschaewon]

Photographer: Part 3

~10k words, IU, smut, deepthroating, sex, anal, rough, degrading

Disclaimer: this fic is a bit more on the intense side compared to the rest of the series. It's a bit rough, and it's quite vulgar/demeaning.

“I’m fucked,” IU gasped as she caught glimpse of herself in the mirror. “Why would you get it in my hair?”

“No way you’re blaming me,” you retaliated while pulling your pants up.

“Yes I am,” IU snapped back with that sexy sharpness to her voice that you’ve come to adore so much in recent times. “And stop that, keep them off.”

“Babe, you have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Did I fucking stutter?” she scowled as she used a tissue to wipe her hair.

IU really was a sight to behold, standing there sporting nothing but a purple hair tie on her wrist, head tilted slightly while she tried feebly to bring her hair back to a respectable state - quite the insurmountable task in your humble opinion. She didn’t even bother sparing you a glance in the mirror, entirely focused on making herself presentable. Eventually she gave up, realizing it was futile, and finally turned around to give you some proper attention.

“What? Are you just going to stand there?” IU scoffed, crossing her arms and glaring at you, it almost felt like she was stabbing you with her sassiness.

“You’re the one who said you have a meeting,” you replied, walking up to IU, wrapping an arm around her body and slapping her ass hard, making her whole body jolt. Her expression, however, remained indignant. “Tell me. What do you want?” you asked, squeezing her ass hard.

“I want you to actually fuck me,” IU whispered into your face. “And don’t cum in my hair this time.”

“I’ll cum wherever the fuck I want,” you whispered right back at her before grabbing her head with your hands and forcing her down onto her knees.

She dropped down, barely putting up any resistance - her own subtle way of telling you that she wanted this treatment. By the time you pushed her face towards your cock, she had already opened her mouth wide, giving you easy access. You shoved your entire cock into her mouth, pressing her nose firmly against your crotch until you could feel your cock stiffen to its full size.

It didn’t take long for the blood to rush into your cock while it was inside IU’s mouth, her lips stretching from the size. As your cock grew, you could feel IU naturally pushing back, struggling with your size, but you refused to give her any form of reprieve. You held the back of her head firm, pushing your cock as deep as physically possibly down her throat. She was gagging slightly, but you didn’t care at all. Even as her saliva began flooding out of the corners of her lips, you held her mouth to your cock.

IU didn’t get to escape your cock when she wanted to, she only got to take it out when you let her. It wasn’t until she looked like she was on the verge of passing out, tears of struggle spilling from her eyes, that you finally let go of her head and released your cock. She began violently coughing, spitting absurd amounts of saliva out of her mouth onto the floor, hunched over on all fours.

“Up,” you commanded, pulling her up to her feet by her hair. “Hurry up, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“It is,” IU coughed in front of you before you turned her around and bent her over the dresser.

“You’re going to be late for your meeting,” you said while rubbing your cock against her pussy.

“It’s a bargaining technique, make them sweat a bit,” she explained, staring at you in the mirror over her shoulder.

“Maybe I should make you sweat a bit,” you teased, moving your cock away from her pussy.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” IU hissed. “Hurry up and fuck me before I leave.”

“Leave,” you called her bluff.

“Fine,” she huffed, turning around to face you.

Before she could even take a step, you picked her up and tossed her onto the dresser. You stepped between her legs, forcing them apart, and shoved your cock into her. As soon as your cock entered her warmth, you started thrusting. Your hips moved in a steady rhythm, in and out, in and out, squishing her soft pussy, stretching her out. An act you don’t think you could ever physically get tired of.

“I knew you couldn’t- resist,” IU moaned, emphasizing that last word, leaning back onto her hands, pushing her pussy towards you, giving you even better access to fuck her.

“How could I, you’re IU after all,” you grunted, shoving your hips forward with pure carnal intention.

Her tits bounced up and down with each thrust, calling out to you, begging for you to grab them. The soft squeeze of her chest wasn’t enough for you though, your body yearned for more, IU needed to be experienced in every way. You shoved your face forward and put her nipple in your mouth. By genuine mistake - thanks to how fucking distracting her pussy was - you accidentally bit down harder than intended on the little nub.

“Ow! What the fuck!” IU screamed, placing her hand on her tit.

“I’m so-”

“I didn’t fucking tell you to stop,” she cut you off. “Keep fucking going.”

Your hips reacted before your brain and began pumping into her tight pussy again. She really was so tight. She began squealing, crying out softly, screaming about how ‘fucking close’ she was getting. You kept going as fast as you could, this went on for minutes, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the room - anyone outside the room would be able to hear IU getting the life fucked out of her, and she clearly did not care.

“Yes baby, keep fucking going,” IU cried out, completely overwhelming the sounds of your grunts with her voice. “I’m going to fucking cum, don’t fucking stop!”

“I won’t,” was all you could huff back as you were starting to sweat with exertion.

It was getting difficult, your body was starting to go numb, your vision getting hazy, your own orgasm nearing already. Yet IU’s pussy was giving your cock all the energy it needed to keep pumping into it. You were silently begging for IU to cum already, pushing yourself physically to keep going - if it didn’t feel so damn good you would have been done by now.

“I’m close,” you gasped, unsure if IU even heard you.

She had her eyes shut tight, face squinted in pure ecstasy.

“Fucking cum already,” she cried out, rubbing her clit rapidly with her hand. “Fuck-”

Greed took over, she was just too pretty. You just needed to cum in her mouth - something you’ve taken an intense liking for recently. It didn’t matter how much she was enjoying this, it was time. You picked her up and placed her on the floor in front of you before grabbing your cock and stroking it as hard and fast as you physically could.

IU, while still using one hand to rub herself, reached forward and grabbed your shaft, replacing your own hand. She looked up at you, made eye contact, and shoved your cock into her mouth. With nearly the same speed as your own hand, she started blowing you and jerking you at the same time, twisting her hand softly and focusing her mouth on your tip.

This went on for the longest minute of your life, absolutely obliterating your senses. You nearly fell over as your legs began to tremble, failing to hold your body up; You had to grab the dresser with one hand for support.

Seconds before you were about to cum into her mouth, IU’s grip went slack and her head launched backwards. She closed her eyes again, scrunching her face up, her mouth slightly agape as she began cumming. Her hand between her legs was still going just as fast, her legs writhing in pleasure while her back arched, sticking her tits up.

As you were already at the point of no return, you quickly wrapped your hand around hers, tightening her grip on your cock and began stroking again. With your other hand, you grabbed the top of her head, positioning her directly in front of your cock. She couldn’t do much as she was clearly completely inundated by her own delectation, but she did manage to open her mouth just a bit more. It was perfect, all you needed, and using IU’s hand as a fleshlight didn’t just take you over the edge, it launched you over the edge.

Your first torrent of cum left her face painted white immediately, earning you a single squeal as your cum reinvigorated IU’s senses. The subsequent volley of cum was near impossible to aim, barely half of it making it into her open lips, the rest landing directly onto her face. The only redeeming part was that you were accurate enough to make sure each spurt landed somewhere on her face: forehead, nose, cheeks, everywhere.

However, the goal was still to see her swallow your cum. You gave up trying to aim and shoved your cock into her mouth, letting your cock release the rest of your orgasm directly into her throat. Each pulse shooting through your shaft was met with a gentle squeeze of IU’s lips, and each pulse led to you pushing your cock deeper into her. The warmth, the wetness, the vulgarity of it all kept your cock pumping, filling IU’s mouth with an unholy amount of your cum.

As your final few dribbles went into IU’s mouth, she pulled back and took her mouth off your cock. A huge mess of cum was left on your cock - there was evidently too much for her to handle. She looked up at you, opened her mouth for a second, leading to a bit more of your white mess spilling onto her chin, She reactively brought a hand up, catching it before it fell, and shut her mouth tight.

“That’s right, don’t waste even a drop,” you moaned, giving her a second to swallow before shoving your cock back into her mouth. “All of it.”

She sucked you clean, making sure to get your entire length into her mouth, using her tongue around the entire shaft. She squeezed her lips hard as you pulled your cock, completely clean from all cum, out of her mouth slowly, the tight grip making sure none was left. Looking up at you again, she first licked the cum off her hand before she started wiping her face as well.

“Good fucking girl,” you exhaled before dropping down onto the floor next to her.

With her glistening pussy in front of your face, you picked her ass up slightly and shoved your mouth forward, sucking up any of IU’s sweet mess directly off her pussy. She cried out, squeezing your head with her thighs, but you ignored it. You didn’t care how sensitive she was right now, you wanted to suck on her pussy. Only once you were content did you back up, sitting on your knees in front of her.

“Almost got it all,” you smiled, using your finger to wipe a glob of cum that was hanging off her chin and bringing it to her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiled back before sucking in your finger, making a real show of moving her mouth down to the last knuckle.

“Now, that meeting,” you switched up the topic as she playfully searched for more cum on her face. “You said it was really important?”

“It is,” she replied casually while looking down, finding some more of her prize that had spilled onto her chest.

“Should I go and let you get cleaned up?”

“No,” she answered, still just as casually, while wiping her tits with two fingers and bringing them to her mouth.

“No?” you repeated.

“Can you get it up again?”

“My God,” you laughed in shock. “Fucking insatiable today, are we?”

“You could say that,” she replied casually, making a point to push both of her fingers into her mouth and very slowly pull them out. “So, can you?”

“Give me a minute then,” you chuckled, getting off the floor and taking a seat on the chair you pushed to the side earlier. “Help me out?”

“Of course,” IU smirked, standing up and climbing onto you. She straddled your body, dropping her pussy onto your cock and moving her hips back and forth, rubbing your soft shaft against her body. “How’s that?”

“Fucking love it,” you moaned, taking your hands and grabbing her ass as blood slowly began filling your cock for the third time this afternoon. “Almost there, it’ll be quicker if you tell me what exactly you want me to do to you.”

IU slowly got off your lap and turned around. She looked back over her shoulder before bending at the hips and reaching back with both hands.

“I want to try again,” she said softly.

Her request was very clear, and your cock immediately woke back up. The sight of IU’s tight asshole being accompanied by this request was the greatest blessing. It had become a goal for the two of you, a goal to get past the difficulty of fucking IU’s tight ass.

“Are you sure?” you began stroking your cock. “You don’t have to do it just for me, I know last time was…”

“I’m sure.”

A drop of clear liquid had already formed on your tip, just the thought of what IU was suggesting was making your cock twitch. The two of you had tried a few times now with little to no success, maybe today would be the day you finally accomplished this goal.

“Please be gentle.”

“Absolutely,” you started rubbing your thumb against her asshole. “Still have the bottle?”

IU reached forward and grabbed her purse, pulling out a small bottle of clear liquid out of it and handing it to you. You squeezed a considerable amount of the lube between her cheeks, making sure to spread it evenly around her hole before squeezing another hefty glob onto your middle finger.

“Tell me if it hurts,” you said while grabbing her ass with one hand to spread her cheek wider as you pressed your middle finger against her hole.

“If I can’t do it, I want you to spank me.”

“What?”

“Spank me, hard.”

With your finger held against her asshole, you let go of her cheek with your other hand and brought your palm down onto her ass.

“Like that?”

“Harder.”

“Like that?” you asked again after giving her a substantially harder slap, even eliciting a small whimper from her.

“Fucking harder,” she gasped, bracing herself.

The next slap had to hurt. The way her cheek immediately turned bright red, burning up in warmth. Droplets of lube sprayed off her ass from the shockwaves you sent through her body, her thigh jiggling intensely as she fell forward and grabbed the dresser for support.

“There we go,” she gasped for air, looking back over her shoulder again. “Promise me you’ll do it at least that hard.”

“I promise,” you replied, rubbing lube over your shaft which was full-mast now. “Finger first or should we just try?”

IU answered you by leaning back and lining her ass with your cock. You helped her out as you stuck your crotch forward in the chair.

“Go slow,” you suggested once your cock was lined up with her asshole.

She began lowering her body very carefully. Your tip just barely started to enter her asshole when she stopped and hissed through clenched teeth. She held herself there for a second, composing herself, before trying to push down again. You held yourself steady, letting her do all the work, letting her try desperately to sit on your cock, but it wasn’t working. She was too tight.

“I can’t,” she panted, standing back up and bending over the dresser. “I need you to do it.”

“It’s okay,” you stood up and walked up behind her.

“You’re forgetting something.”

“Ah, right,” you brought your hand up towards the roof and swung it down hard onto IU’s ass, wincing as the second-hand pain could be felt in your own body. “Sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize, I asked for it,” IU gasped, grabbing the edge of the dresser.

Without giving her time to react, you slapped her other cheek just as hard.

“I was apologizing for forgetting, not for spanking you,” you lined yourself up with her asshole again. “Ready?”

“Mhmm,” she moaned as you had already started pushing your tip against her.

It was unbelievably tight, you could barely fit - part of you didn’t think you could fit at all. All you knew was that you were going to try, even if it wasn’t possible. After a few seconds of switching up angles, you finally managed to penetrate.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck,” IU began stammering.

“Out?” you asked with your tip inside her asshole.

“No. One second. Fuck. Ugh,” she cried out before dropping her head down to the dresser, leaving her bent ninety degrees at the hips. “Keep going.”

Her wish was your command, and you immediately started pushing yourself deeper. It was nearly impossible, this was by far the tightest sensation you have ever felt in your life. Even though almost all of your focus was on trying to get your cock up IU’s ass, whatever remaining brainpower you had left couldn’t help but relish in how fucking amazing her body felt. Part of you wanted to just start plowing her, ignoring how difficult it was for her, but you couldn’t do that. You didn’t want to break her.

“Okay stop, I can’t!” she screamed.

As quickly and carefully as physically possible, you pulled your cock out of her ass. IU immediately fell to the ground and started rubbing her asshole.

“I’m sorry,” she looked up at you, wincing in pain.

“Don’t worry babe,” you crouched down next to her and kissed her forehead before wiping her eyes. “You did so well this time, I made it halfway,” you lightly encouraged her.

“We can try again,” she panted. “Just give me a second.”

“No, we’ll try again another time,” you said gently. “You’re amazing,” you added while stroking her hair softly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you answered before giving her ass one final slap. “It’s not like this is going anywhere, there’ll be more tries.”

She let out a sharp cry after that last slap.

“I don’t want to just leave like that, let me at least finish you off,” IU requested after recovering from the pain, crawling forward and pushing you to sit down on the floor. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you pulled her body so that she was next to you. Once she took your cock into her mouth, you reached your hand over and started massaging her asshole softly. It felt great after the struggle of IU’s tight asshole to just have her blowing you gently, and you leaned your head back to enjoy it. “I fucking love you.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed without taking your cock out of her mouth.

—

During the ride home, you picked up a few groceries in preparation for dinner. This meeting IU had was allegedly incredibly important, she had been talking about it all week. Part of you really questioned her plan of having you fuck the life out of her right before it, but you figured she knew what she was doing. Your job tonight wasn’t to question her, your job was to make sure your girlfriend would come home to a delicious meal, and that was exactly what you planned on doing.

After putting the chicken in the oven, you quickly cleaned up and started making the table. You decided to get extra cheesy tonight and even brought out some candles, remembering how much IU appreciated it last time. With how much she has been doing for you lately, you loved to spoil her with gestures whenever you could.

Things were actually starting to get serious. Ever since making the decision to go exclusive, things have been amazing. Both of you agreed to keep the relationship private for now, but neither of you let the idea of people finding out stop you from doing what you wanted to do; Even though you both made some minimal efforts to stay private, the two of you still enjoyed a lot of time going on walks and eating out.

It was a given that eventually your relationship would be revealed to the public. Truthfully, you were shocked people didn’t already pick up on it. Other than some basic disguises, the only time you two would be truly secretive in public was when you decided to have sex - she was a fan of the thrill. She was a fan of sex in general.

Daily was an understatement, sometimes it felt hourly. IU was regularly waking you up with a blowjob - she believed you should start the day happy. The only time she wouldn’t was if you woke up first, in which case you quickly learned that she would become extremely grumpy all day if you didn’t fuck her as soon as she woke up.

It was rare for you to not join her at work lately. Whether or was for a quickie during breaks, or simply just for support. You were almost always by her side - or at least a room away staying somewhat discrete from the rest of her staff. She had some questionable story about how she wanted a personal photographer at all times in case you were needed, but you were pretty sure most of her staff knew what was actually going on at this point.

With how much influence IU carried when she walked into a room though, it really didn’t matter what she told them. You would constantly fuck IU just for her to go back to work a few minutes later, they would never question her. If anything, her hair and makeup team was probably starting to hate you.

After just a few days of making it official, IU had essentially forced you to move in with her. You were almost never at your own place anymore, and you even considered moving in officially. The only thing holding you back was that it was still a bit early, but you did think about how much you’d save in rent from time to time.

It was a small price to pay, however, and you truly did not mind. With how much IU was spoiling you financially now, there was really no reason to complain. While she didn’t outright give you money, she was taking you on random shopping sprees and fancy dinners. Even the groceries, she gave you her card to use for them, claiming you had to use her card for the food instead of your own.

This is also why you put so much effort into small gestures like making dinner for her. Of course you could just order food, and you guys usually did, but she was a real sucker for these types of events. Not that you did it for the sex, that was just a nice bonus. You did it because you really did care for her, your feelings for this girl were getting stronger by the day.

The front door clicked and the sound of keys jingled in your ears.

“I’m home!” IU announced as she walked into the kitchen. “Oh my God, that smells good.”

“Just needs like fifteen minutes,” you smiled, picking her up into a hug and kissing her. “Figured we’d have a nice homemade dinner tonight.”

“You made all of this?” she gasped, noticing the spread of food on the dining table.

“And roast chicken in the oven.”

All of a sudden, IU started to cry softly.

“Babe? What happened?” you quickly pulled her into a hug again. “You good?”

“This is just so… thoughtful…” she sniffled in your arms.

“Whew, I thought you weren’t in the mood for chicken or something,” you chuckled while rubbing her back. “How about you go get freshen up, it’ll be ready when you’re back.”

“I love you so much,” IU sighed, giggling gently at your comment.

“Love you, too,” you let go of her. “Now go quickly, it’s almost ready.”

IU scurried off, leaving you to finish the dinner preparations. Once everything was done, you sat down at the table and waited patiently for her return. It didn’t take long before IU came back in a t-shirt and some very short shorts with her hair tied up in a ponytail.

“This looks so good,” she squealed, hugging you from behind before taking a seat. “By the way, there’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about work today.”

“Work talk after dinner, I want to hear all about the meeting,” you replied while holding up two bottles. “Red or white?”

“White please,” she smiled, flashing her beautiful teeth at you.

“Just tell me one thing,” you started pouring the wine into her glass. “Did you get the contract?”

“I did,” IU picked up her glass while you poured yourself some as well.

“Then cheers to that,” you held your glass up. “Congratulations.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled before taking a sip.

Dinner was a mostly silent affair. Other than the occasional compliment about your cooking, IU was clearly distracted - probably by hunger. Not that you minded, you were equally as hungry, and you knew there was plenty of time afterwards. You didn’t want to think about it, but it was a fact that after every dinner you’ve made for IU, the night has ended very much in your favor sexually.

After finishing the meal, the two of you quickly put away the dishes and leftovers. Once everything was cleaned up, you both found yourselves in the living room where you took a seat on the couch. Instead of sitting next to you, IU decided to drop down to her knees in front of you.

“Whoa there babe,” you chuckled, pulling her up by her arms. “I love you, and you know I want that, but first tell me about work. You said you wanted to tell me something earlier?”

“Alright,” IU looked saddened by the situation. “Can we go to the bedroom then?”

“Fine,” you smiled, standing up from the couch. “Don’t look so sad, we’ll do all of that soon.”

IU smiled weakly before following you into her bedroom. You sat down on the bed and IU, to your surprise, sat down on the chair.

“Everything alright? You know I’m going to let you suck my cock still, right?”

“Something happened during the meeting.”

The tone in the room shifted suddenly. You leaned forward, the smile disappearing from your face as you stared at IU, trying to read her expression.

“Something happened?”

“The meeting started off not exactly like how I wanted it to go,” IU began explaining. “I told you right, this contract was incredibly important.”

“You did.”

“I thought it was basically guaranteed, I thought they needed me,” she continued. “Turns out they had more leverage than I knew about.”

She paused for a second to take a deep breath.

“He said he had a few people tell him about what I used to do,” she started to get choked up. “He threatened to… if I didn’t…”

“That’s fine though, right? You told me there was protection in place, that your company was ready to disprove any allegations that could be made.”

“This was a really important contract.”

“Did you…” you hesitated, suddenly feeling a burning anger inside you. “Tell me what happened.”

“I’m really sorry, I had no choice.”

“What did you do?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What did you do?” you repeated.

“I had to… convince him,” IU stammered. “He said there was only one way.”

“How did you convince him?”

“Don’t make me say it,” IU pleaded.

“Did you fuck him?”

“No!”

“What did you do?”

“I just sucked- I’m sorry!”

“Is this why you wanted this relationship to be a secret?” you laughed sarcastically. “Un-fucking-believable.”

“No, it’s not like that!” IU protested.

“All that bullshit about keeping this a secret to protect me,” you spat. “It was actually just so you could keep blowing every cock that walked through your door?”

“It’s not like that,” she muttered, her voice quiet, eyes low.

“Isn’t it?” you snapped. “How long have you been lying to me?”

“Please, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t un-suck a cock,” you hissed before suddenly remembering something. “That time you came to me in tears right before we decided to go exclusive…”

“I wanted to tell you,” IU started to cry. “But you were so…”

“Understanding? Forgiving?” you intervened. “You probably thought I would judge you just like everyone else, you were scared of it, you didn’t know how to react when I didn’t call you a slut?”

That last word clearly stung, you could see it clearly the way IU’s lower lip immediately began to tremble followed by a fresh wave of tears.

“I should have told you the first time, that was wrong of me,” she stammered between tears. “I didn’t know that I could, but I do now. That's why I’m telling you this. I fucked up and don’t want to hide it from you.”

“Now I don’t give a fuck if you tell me,” you replied coldly. “I trusted you, and you lied to me. Tell me then, when you claimed ‘nothing happened’, tell me what actually happened that time.”

“I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t fucking apologize,” you interrupted. “I want to hear you confess. Did you fuck him?”

“No! I told you, I’ve never fucked any of them.”

“Oh forgive me for not believing everything you told,” you laughed condescendingly. “Then what, did you blow him? Did you let him nut down your throat? We both know how much you enjoy that part.”

“Why are you doing this?” IU sobbed, using her shoulder to wipe her eyes.

“Because now I know you are a slut, and I want to hear you admit it,” you answered angrily, leaning back on the bed. “If you don’t want to, I can leave.”

“Please don’t,” IU begged, taking a deep breath. “I just… used my hand…”

“How many times since you asked me to be exclusive with you?”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” IU started sobbing again.

“How many times?”

“Not many,” IU answered quietly.

“Meaning there were multiple times?” you burst out laughing. “I can’t fucking believe I trusted you.”

“Today was the first time I touched someone.”

“What else did you do?”

“Please-”

“Fucking answer the question,” you snapped.

“There were a couple clients who I let see me,” she sobbed. “They touched themselves, I didn’t touch them.”

“Until today,” you replied with ice in your tone. “Until you really needed to convince someone, that was enough to make you go back to sucking cock for gain.”

“I had no choice.”

“Stop fucking saying that!” you shouted back. “You had a choice, the choice was to not suck another man’s dick.”

“Please forgive-”

“You’re a fucking slut,” you cut her off without any remorse in your voice. “That’s all you are.”

“I thought you said even if I did something, it was okay,” IU sobbed, wiping her eyes.

“That was before you asked me to be exclusive,” you retorted sharply without hesitation. “By the way, letting people jerk off on you is also not okay. You fucking slut.”

IU burst out crying, falling off the chair and onto her knees. You didn’t care, you simply let her. There was no consoling her this time, she fucked up and she knew it. The anger inside you couldn’t be put into words, but you knew this was the end. You knew she went too far, and you were not okay with this.

“Slut,” you mumbled under your breath.

She heard it, wincing at the word again, but she didn’t respond. She just took it, like she knew that’s what she was, and she wasn’t defending herself. She couldn’t.

“Even now, I can see you still don’t want me to leave. Even after everything I’ve said.”

“I don’t,” IU sniffled before crawling forward between your legs.

She started pulling your pants down, and you didn’t stop her. You let her do it, you let her release your cock from your pants. This time, you weren’t lusting for her, this time was different. You didn’t want to make love to her, not that you could right now. If she wanted to do this, then you were going to use her. This wouldn’t make you forgive her at all, but you didn’t care.

Every fiber in your body wanted to get up and leave to never look back. Yet for some reason, you didn’t. For some reason, you sat there as IU, face covered in tears, started stroking your cock. It didn’t even take long for you to get hard, it’s not like IU stopped being beautiful, but you couldn’t see her in the same way anymore.

It wasn’t an easy decision for you, but you decided fuck it. If she was going to let you fuck her again, you were going to take the opportunity. It was different this time though because you didn’t care, at this point she was a - just barely - glorified prostitute for you. She was your tool to use, and she was seemingly fine with that.

“That’s right,” you commented as you slipped your cock into her mouth. “Do what you’re made for, what you’re good at.” You placed your hand on the top of her head.

Even as tears flowed down her cheeks, she accepted your cock into her lips and sucked with the same effort she always put in. She still managed to use her tongue in all the right ways, all that experience she had with your cock down your throat, the countless blowjobs, the excessive deepthroat sessions, they were all paying dividends right now.

“It can stop whenever, all you have to do is take my cock out of your mouth and I’ll leave,” you told her, knowing she wasn’t going to stop. You gave her an open palmed slap on the side of her face, one that didn’t even phase her more than a little jolt as she kept sucking. “You’re just hoping I’ll fuck you, aren’t you? You think by sucking my cock you’ll get me to fuck you again? After everything you did?”

She kept going, even using one hand to fondle your balls the way she knew you loved. Your cock never left her mouth, even as you started thrusting your hips forward, slamming your body against her face, smearing the teardrops against her cheeks. Her body was jerking backwards with each thrust of your hips, she nearly lost balance and fell, but her mouth never left your cock. Not until you spoke up again.

“Stop.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, IU pulled back. She waited patiently on her knees, hands on her thighs, not even wiping the mess of saliva all over her chin steadily dripping down her shirt. Her gaze fixated on the floor between your feet, waiting for your next command while her entire body moved up and down with each heavy inhale and exhale.

“So you can hear me,” you taunted her, rubbing her cheek lightly with your saliva-covered cock. “That’s actually what you want? You just want to get fucked again?”

No response.

“Stand up,” you grabbed her arm, giving it a yank so that she was standing in front of you, still seemingly incapable of looking at you. “Take it all off.”

IU wasted no time in stripping off her clothes. She stood there, completely nude now, covering up herself with her arms.

“Adorable,” you laughed as you pushed her arms away, leaving her body entirely exposed. “A piece of fuck-meat like you shouldn’t be ashamed of showing her body.”

She winced at the phrase fuck-meat, finally giving you a reaction again.

“What’s wrong, don’t like hearing the truth?” you pressed, stepping to the side of her body and giving her ass a hard slap before leaning into her ear. “Aren’t you just my fuck-meat?”

She shook her head no.

“You’re right,” you continued softly, stepping again so that now you were behind her. You reached your arms around her body, cupping both of her tits into your hands and squeezing hard before leaning into her ear again. “You’re not my fuck-meat, you’re everyone’s.”

“Not everyone’s,” she muttered under her breath.

“Why’s that? Because you claim I’m the only one who has put it in here?” you asked as you slid your cock between her legs, teasing it against her pussy. “I’m not sure if I even believe that anymore, but I do believe this one's all mine,” you let go of one tit and brought your hand between IU’s asscheeks. “Maybe I’ll try to take it one last time before you start giving it away, too,” you whispered as you pressed your thumb against her asshole, threatening to push it in.

IU exhaled heavily as you finished your lap around her, sparing her asshole - for now. She still couldn’t look at you directly as you stood right in front of her. Her face was completely wet from a mixture of her tears and saliva, but she still didn’t bother wiping any of it away.

“All you have to do is walk away, or tell me to leave,” you said casually while wrapping her hair around your fist. “This all stops whenever you want it to stop.”

Again, no response.

“Fine,” you grunted before using your grip on IU’s hair to bend her over at the hips and bring her face down to your crotch.

Without even giving her time to think, you shoved your cock down her throat aggressively before holding her head steady and using your hips to slam your cock as deep as it could go again. You held yourself balls deep in her mouth for a few seconds, pushing hard as her nose squished against your body before letting go of her completely.

She stayed bent over, hands on her knees for support, and violently coughed up spit all over the floor. Her entire body was trembling as she gasped for air. After a few moments where you did nothing but watch her struggle, she composed herself and got back up. Finally, she looked up at you with a blank expression, not caring at all about the tears dripping out of her blood-shot eyes.

“You’re really this desperate?” you whispered, using your hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. “If this is what you really want, get on the bed.”

IU suddenly broke down and started to sob, turning her head away from you again, this time covering her face with her hands. She turned around and climbed onto the bed, sitting in the middle of it in a ball, burying her face in her arms.

“Spread your fucking legs,” you demanded as you walked up to the bed.

She obeyed, spreading them wide enough for you to see her pussy. She was already drenched between her legs, within just a few seconds leaving a huge stain of wetness on the bed sheets beneath her. After aggressively wiping the tears from her eyes, she stared at you, waiting for your next move as she tried desperately to control her crying.

There was zero effort on her part to stop you as you grabbed both of her ankles and yanked her to the edge of the bed. Her back fell to the mattress and she lay there, waiting as you brought your cock to her pussy. You took your time, rubbing your tip against her body for a while before gently easing your cock into her. Slowly, you pushed forward, stretching her pussy wide until you were all the way inside her.

She started to cry again.

“Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

She nodded her head.

“Fine,” you grunted as you started to thrust your cock into her. “Then say it.”

“I-”

“Louder.”

Before she could say anything, you leaned forward and gave her another slap on the face, not as hard this time - it was less for the pain and more for the intent. IU took a deep breath before staring directly into your soul and speaking with utter conviction. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Of course you do,” you spat, picking up both of her legs and placing them on your shoulders.

At least now she had stopped crying and was moaning quietly each time your balls slapped against her skin. You decided to ignore the state she was in and focus entirely on how tight her pussy was squeezing your shaft right now. She felt tighter than ever, and you fucked her harder than ever to get through it. You had no more regard for her well-being, and that’s what she wanted.

She had no control over anything in this position - it was all you. You were relentless, smashing her pussy harder than you ever have before. Even when you’ve had rough sex with her before, none of it compared to how hard you were going now. IU felt each thrust deep in her core, each inch of your cock, each ounce of tension that you launched deep into her pussy.

It didn’t even matter if she was enjoying it, you didn’t care that her moans were those of pleasure. At this point she was nothing more than sex in your eyes, you didn’t care about anything else she had to offer. She was warm, she was wet, she was tight. She was yours. Suddenly, you started to feel her pussy convulse in a way you knew all too well at this point.

“Fuck,” she cried out softly, shutting her eyes tight.

In your mind, her orgasm had to feel better for you than it did for her, because she felt fucking amazing right now. The way her pussy squeezed your cock in these beautiful rhythmic contractions, the most ethereal sensations of gratification shot up your spine - but you weren’t done yet.

With great difficulty, you pulled your cock out of her pussy and watched as a small gush of liquid spilled out of her. You watched as her pussy continued to convulse, letting her finish before dropping her legs off your shoulders. She squirmed as you bent down in front of her and plunged two fingers up her pussy.

“Oh fuck yes,” she moaned softly as you pressed your mouth against her clit, sucking up some of her tangy mess.

It didn’t last long, however, and you quickly stood back up in front of her.

“Turn around.”

She looked up at you, hesitating for a split second before complying and turning onto her stomach. You pulled her backwards so that she was bent over the side of the bed with her feet on the floor and gave her ass a hard slap.

“I’m going to fuck you in the ass,” you informed her as casually as if you were telling her the weather. “If you want to stop, speak up.”

“I don’t want to stop,” she answered without looking back at you.

“It’s going to hurt. A lot,” you continued, using both of your hands to spread her cheeks as wide as they could go, exposing her tight asshole to the world. “I’m not going to be gentle.”

“That’s fine,” IU stuttered, reaching back with both hands to help you spread her cheeks.

“I don’t care if you scream,” you pushed the back of her head down into the bed with one hand before lining your cock up with her asshole, holding your tip against her tight entrance. “I don’t care if you cry. Unless you say stop, I’m not stopping.”

Her body was so pristine in this position - almost too perfect. You slapped her ass again, this time as hard as you could, leaving a very distinct red mark. She let out a small yelp, but she held the position with her cheeks spread for you. It was time, you positioned yourself right behind her ass and got ready.

IU’s asshole was even tighter than you remembered, even pushing just your tip into her was difficult this time. The lack of lube - if you didn’t count what IU’s body left all over your cock - made it so much harsher, but you didn’t care. You didn’t even consider backing off, your mind was set on putting your cock into her ass and that was exactly what you were about to do.

It was as if a wall broke down, and suddenly your hips lurched forward. IU’s high pitched scream pierced your eardrums as half of your cock plunged into her asshole. Her body was vibrating now, but the hard part was done, it only got easier from here. You pushed forward just a bit more before pulling back until just your tip was in her ass.

After a short pause, you took a deep breath and shoved your cock all the way in. IU screamed again, letting go of her cheeks and clinching both hands into fists. She began whimpering into the bed uncontrollably. With how intense her asshole was probably feeling right now, you weren’t even sure if she felt the next slap of your hand against her ass leaving another mark.

Your cock was fighting for its life against the tight squeeze of her asshole. After a couple of short minutes, you had gotten used to how unbelievably tight she was, and it was starting to feel incredible. You used your hands to hold her tiny body, giving you better leverage as you shoved your cock into her asshole.

Her asscheeks squished against your thighs so beautifully each time you pumped into her. The rhythmic ripples of her skin each time your bodies made contact was hypnotizing, you couldn’t take your eyes off her body. The way she lurched forward so aggressively with each thrust was beyond beautiful to you.

The way her initial piercing screams had been entirely replaced by whimpers. Initially, you were pausing after every few thrusts, giving her a chance to make it stop - an opportunity she never took. Once you realized she wasn’t going to quit this time, you let go of all ideas of sanctity. IU’s asshole was yours for the taking now, and you were going to take it.

She deserved credit. You knew her asshole was burning right now, it never really loosened up for you. Each thrust was difficult, but each thrust felt so fucking good. Her pussy was tight, but her asshole was impossibly tight. Yet here you were, forcing the impossible to happen with the power of pure lust.

Your cock loved it more than you ever could have imagined. At some point, IU’s whimpers had once again turned into screams, but you could barely comprehend anything in the world right now other than the orgasm that was quickly approaching. The screams began to die down again, or so it seemed like they did. Even the whimpering was gone at this point, it was just the sound of your cock penetrating her asshole now.

IU’s entire back was flexed, her toned body trying desperately to hold on and survive the attack. You had no idea how she was faring anymore, and with how phenomenal it felt, it was honestly hard to care. It seemed like she was using every ounce of strength in her body to hold on, but it was hard to believe it was enough.

Just a bit more, you could feel the end nearing. IU’s body must have felt it too, because she was finally starting to loosen up just slightly - or perhaps the relentless attack on her tight asshole was finally becoming too much, or perhaps her body was finally starting to adjust to the brutality of your thrusts, or perhaps her body was giving up. All of this was secondary to the fact that you were probably seconds away from blowing.

It was time, there was no more holding back, and you knew exactly where you wanted to finish. You swiftly pulled your cock out of her asshole, giving her barely enough time to gasp in relief before she squealed as you grabbed her hair and pulled her backwards. You yanked her off the bed and onto her knees in front of you, facing away from you. Then you pulled her hair harder until her head was tilted upwards towards the roof. You took a step over her and pushed your cock straight downwards into her mouth.

The bulge in her neck was so well-defined as your cock invaded her throat, you could so clearly see the outline of your cock. You pushed down until you felt your balls make contact with her nose before grabbing the sides of her head with your hands to hold her steady. It only took three, maybe four - who’s really keeping count - half-thrusts of your cock before you felt yourself start releasing a slurry of cum straight into IU’s throat.

“There we fucking go,” you moaned, leaning your head back as the pleasure became too much.

Your cock stayed in her throat for a whole minute, still unloading more and more cum into her. It felt so fucking good that you didn’t care one bit that she was gagging on the sheer volume of liquid. She was physically overflowing, the cum was spilling from her lips faster than she could swallow it.

As you moved your cock up and down slightly, the cum that spilled out of her lips was being spread around her face, some of it spilling down her neck, some of it spilling onto her nose. You didn’t care. It wasn’t until you felt the final dribble of cum leave your body did you finally take your cock out of her mouth.

IU immediately fell forward onto her hands, coughing violently again. She gasped sharply for air before coughing and spitting. Her body was still shaking as she balled herself up on the ground in fetal position, breathing deeply and sobbing. For the first time, you truly felt bad for her. Maybe this was too much, maybe you went too far, or maybe the post-nut clarity was just hitting really hard.

“It’s time to talk.”

IU looked up at you, a fresh set of tears on her face, in utter disarray.

“You want to talk? After that?” she croaked before coughing again. “What’s there to talk about?”

“This relationship,” you replied, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of her.

She began to stand up when you stopped her.

“No, stay on your knees. It’s where you belong.”

“I did everything for you,” IU coughed as another fresh wave of tears spilled from her eyes. “Why are you still being so mean?”

“Did you think this would fix things? Did you really think you could fuck your way out of this like you do with everything else?”

“I don’t fuck my way out of everything,” IU cried, her voice completely hoarse.

“For what it’s worth,” you paused to lean forward and gently caress her face, wiping the tears away. “I don’t even fault you for what you do, it’s quite innovative in a fucked up way.”

Another wave of tears.

“I’m not going to tell anyone about us, or about what you do. I have no interest in dragging your name through the mud,” you stood up in front of her. “But I can’t do this anymore.”

“Is this… the end?” IU hiccupped.

A nod was all you gave in response, and this time you didn’t stop her as she tried to stand up. The two of you stared at each other for a brief moment before IU lunged forward and wrapped her arms around you.

“I’m really sorry for what I did,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by your body.

A sudden rush of feelings hit you, harder than you anticipated. All of a sudden your skin got warm and you felt like your heart was about to explode. You wiped your eyes before any tears could fall and then hugged IU back, holding her tightly.

“I’m sorry,” IU sniffled as another wave of sobs hit her.

“Don’t apologize,” you rubbed her back, your own tears falling now.

It took what felt like a couple of minutes before her sobbing finally started to subside somewhat. You let go of her and gently guided her to the edge of the bed before grabbing a tissue box from the side table.

“Here,” you held it out for her as she graciously accepted a tissue and blew her nose.

“I’m such a fucking mess,” IU said before tossing the tissue to the side and taking another one.

She carefully wiped the corners of her eyes with the tissue. You gave her all the time she needed, patiently sitting next to her. Once she was done, you grabbed one of the pillows and gave it to her to place on her lap, offering a tiny bit of modesty.

“That was a lot,” you said softly, pausing between each word.

“Does this really have to be the end?” she asked quietly, laying her hands on the pillow you gave her.

“It does.”

There was a long pause during which IU stared at her hands as if they were the most interesting artifacts in the world. Her legs were still trembling slightly, you didn’t know if it was from emotion or pain at this point. A part of you started wishing that she had said stop now, wishing she wouldn’t let you hurt her. Finally, she looked up at you.

“I understand,” she whispered.

Tears began running down her cheeks again, but there was no sobbing. She didn’t bother wiping them either, she just let them flow freely.

“I’m sorry things had to end this way,” she stated, an eerie emptiness in her voice. “I just want you to know I really loved the time we had together.”

“I did, too,” you replied, quickly wiping the tears that began forming in your eyes. “And I really loved you.”

Her lip began to tremble, her expression threatening another breakdown, but she held strong for the last time.

“You always know how to reach me,” she said softly after taking a deep breath. “If you ever want to.”

“I know.”

Those were the final two words you shared before you started getting dressed. IU watched in silence instead of also getting dressed. You were quick, skipping the socks and shoes before walking to the door. You paused with your hand on the doorknob and turned back to face IU one final time. She hadn’t moved from her spot on the bed.

“I’ll come back for my stuff tomorrow.”

She started to choke up before burying her face in her hands. As the first few sobs hit your ears, you walked out of the room and closed the door behind you.

---

A/N:

The final (probably) part of this series! Hopefully the ending wasn't too sad or anything. If I made this series longer I probably would have spent more time building the relationship. I did feel like things moved a bit too quickly, but hopefully I did it justice.

Anyway, future plans! I have a handful of fics currently in progress. I know I said I'd update my Twice series, but I ended up spending a lot of time planning the rest of that series out. Part of why I ended up writing this chapter was because someone left a very lovely comment on part 2 that inspired me - use that info as you will, I'm very easily inspired by positivity!

Please feel free to leave comments/asks/whatever. I might not reply to every ask I get anymore, just to reduce spam on my followers, but I do read them all. Future updates will be kinda sporatic again as I'm back to being busy with life until my next break, but they'll be more consistent than they have been (I think, no promises)!

[jymwahuwu]

cw: non-consensual spanking, humiliation, hairbrush spanking, reader has hair

This took me hours😭💀💔... I just wanted an excuse to get spanked, thought about it for a long time and decided to write humiliation + spanking for arrogant reader. That's my favorite type, enjoy!

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Capitano has his own standards for justice, morality, and honor. Punish others…in a special way. Doesn't sound ethical, does it? But what if there is a valid reason? Correct others and stop them from going further down the wrong path. Especially, you. You are young and energetic, have outstanding strength, and respect the Queen. The Queen cherishes and favors you for this reason, and bestows you with status. But- you always disrespected him, crossing your arms over your chest, mocking him. The other Fatui are shocked by your boldness.

Being spoiled. He doesn't want to argue with you at all. Just pat you on the head and leave. You looked even more annoyed, frowning. Damselette was amused and covered her mouth. She also added fuel to the fire by taking you and Dottore for afternoon tea, secretly gossiping about Capitano while the restaurant singer sang. You are filled with indignation. Dottore nodded in agreement, tapping notes on the table with his fingers and raising his lips at the same time. Capitano can take action immediately when facing an enemy, but for you… what should he do? He needs to think about it carefully. He didn't want to crush the Queen's hopes and burn out her remaining love and kindness.

And you are not a cruel enemy. You're just…too naive. Sometimes when he closes his eyes, your face will appear. You weren't so rude to him back then…

The turning point was that special mission. Capitano needs to work with you. You reluctantly responded, but you ignored his orders and were caught by the enemy. He had to get you back. Those enemies were reduced to ashes.

Capitano snapped at you. Past experience is the basis for you to underestimate him. You wanted to apologize, but you felt embarrassed. You met his gaze defiantly, but this time…no one was spoiling you anymore. He took off his gloves, then forcibly grabbed the glowing vision around your waist and threw it aside. "What are you doing! You scoundrel!" Scoundrel. You have to learn manners and respect from now on. The world was spinning, and the next second you were thrown into his lap, with a buzzing in your ears. The buttocks touch the cold air. He-he took off your clothes? "What do you want to do!? I will report you!"

An unexpected slap. Intense pain. Your pupils constricted and you clenched your hands on his pants, the muscles in your calves tensing. Spanking? How dare he spank you? You are an adult! You struggled, but Capitano's palms pressed against your waist. Just that is enough to render you completely immobile. Uninterrupted and brutal slaps landed on your buttocks, leaving traces of the slaps.

"Stop…ah…stop this!" Twenty, twenty-one, thirty. He alternates smacking you left and right, never sparing either side. It hurts so much. The curses faded into messy sobs and whimper.

Your tears were shining, and your hands were helplessly wiping away the tears, but you always endured the impact of those slaps and stopped yourself from begging for forgiveness. The Queen was right in telling you to listen to Capitano. You really can't resist him. "…I-I…you…bad guy…"

Then the slaps just… stopped like this. Your eyelashes with teardrops were still trembling, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Is the torture over? You didn't ask for mercy. Did you win? you win-

"Do you need a paddle?" the deep voice asked with authority. You are petrified. Paddle? Thick paddle? You shook your head and sniffled again, shame burning your cheeks. "Good, then apologize for your arrogance and rudeness."

You grit your teeth. "I'm not going to-" You're not going to lose.

"Um, use your hairbrush then." Capitano pulled open your bedside table and searched for it for a few seconds before finding it. He looked at you with some condescension and adjusted your position so that your swollen butt was facing upwards towards the ceiling. Hairbrush? You didn’t even know that a hairbrush has such uses…

The impact of a hairbrush is special. Screams left your throat, tears welling up in your eyes and you started kicking your legs to relieve the pain. Eight, nine, ten…fifteen. Especially since it was your hairbrush, the thing you used to brush your hair every morning, it added a layer of humiliation. You taste the regret and tears, how could there be such an evil thug like him who keeps spanking you!

"You get what you deserve…" he responded. "Maybe I should have done that from the beginning, when you first talked back to me."

"Apologise. Maybe I'll forgive you," he warned. "Or you get spanked every day. Your choice."

Eighteen, Nineteen-

Twenty.

There seemed to be no end to the punishment, and you burst into tears and broke down. "Sorry, I'm sorry for everything!"

The hairbrush threatened to drop again, but didn't. As always, Capitano never tortured any of his enemies who surrendered. He carefully lifted you up and placed you on his legs. You lowered your head, whimpering, and snuggled into his arms weakly, listening to the vivid heartbeat. His arms crossed your armpits, maintaining the hugging position.

You really didn’t want to admit it… you didn’t hate Capitano, you could even say you admired him. It's just that one day, you find out that he treats other members the same way, or even treats others better. He is always upright and courageous. You wonder if he'll react differently, if he'll look irritated…but then, you're just seeking his attention. Your acting skills deceived yourself.

And now are the consequences. You were actually humiliated, completely. Humiliated by the one who is always righteous.

"But if it's up to me…" You suggested to the Queen, but felt the warning gaze behind you and shuddered. "…I'm sorry, Your Majesty. Maybe I am not capable of such a task."

Tsaritsa narrowed her eyes, her icy eyes scanning you and Capitano back and forth, but her smile was as warm as the sunshine in winter. "You've grown a lot in just a few days. You two work well together."

"Yes, this is your Majesty's kindness." You bowed your head and complimented.

After leaving the palace, you snorted and crossed your arms, deliberately irritating him. "Don't think I'm afraid of you now. I just...oh, I remembered my date with Tartaglia. I'm going now, bye."

You trotted towards the orange-haired harbinger, and he greeted you with a smile and silly jokes. Capitano stares at you without saying a word.

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family B-Side (1)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell (on the way!)

This is part of a series of unrelated works entitled "Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually" and I think that title is fairly self-explanatory. If there are any other couples you think would be good parents for our Stevie boy, let me know and I'll take them into consideration!

Anyway, the B-Side thing is because this is like taking my Addams Family Steddie au and just flipping the cassette tape hfjsdk

This time, it's Steve that's the Addams and Eddie that's normal!

Anyway, blame @whatthemeepever for this one specifically cuz it's gonna spiral into a wild ride actually, so let's all pray for Eddie in advance

If you'd like a tag for any future parts, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

-------

The moment Steve is born, his father sticks a light bulb in his mouth. When it glows, he jumps with joy and throws Steve into the air. The moment Steve's mother realizes what's happening, she slaps his father upside the head, throws the light bulb at him, and threatens to blow him up again if he sticks anymore into Steve's mouth before he starts teething.

She follows through on the promise exactly two weeks later, and Steve's parents (one smug and the other notably singed but delighted) rebuild their house next door to his father's brother.

Steve's mother chooses his first and last name (Harrington, a reference to some long-lost family friend or other), and his father is reluctantly given the freedom to choose his middle name. In the end, he is dubbed Steve Faustus Harrington, a name his mother is so surprised to find acceptable that she kisses his father as a reward.

And so begins Steve's life.

------

"I can't believe you got expelled," Steve's mother seethes, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn white. "Again!"

Steve crosses his arms, sinking lower in his seat as he glares out the window. "It's not my fault they were shitty friends. They got what they deserved."

He hears his mother laugh, the sound strained and indignant and very quickly followed by his father turning to look at Steve from the passenger seat. His sunken eyes are filled with suppressed delight as he asks, "What did they do this time?"

A few seconds pass before Steve sighs. "They said they couldn't go out later because they had to study for finals. I mean, what kind of bullshit is that? Finals are three weeks away, and they can't spare one weekend for the funeral museum?" he says, scoffing as he looks at his father, grins, and adds, "So, I brought the funeral museum to them, coffins and cremations and all."

His father's eyes light up, sheer joy and pride dancing in them. And for the very first time in Steve's life, his mother pulls over to the side of the road and parks the car.

"Pumpkin?" his father asks.

"Fester," she says, her voice low and somewhere in the range of upset, "do you remember when I tried to kill your entire family?"

"Of course. It was a splendid attempt."

She nods and looks at him with a tiny, somewhat pained smile. Then she turns and sets her gaze on Steve. "Darling, what kind of grades do your friends have?" she asks. "Because if you're anything like me, and I know you are, you tend to befriend people who are significantly dumber than you."

Steve blinks, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, most of them were about to fail," he admits.

"Then, isn't it possible they really were studying for finals? Especially if they were close to failing at a school where passing is a requirement of attendance? Perhaps you could have suggested going to the...funeral museum after finals?"

A few seconds pass as Steve considers her words, a crushing sense of realization and guilt dropping on his shoulders and traveling to the pit of his stomach. It makes him feel nauseous, and he stares down at his lap. "I fucked up," he finally says, voice quiet and apologetic.

"Of course not!" Fester says, reaching out and ruffling Steve's hair despite the affronted noise from Debbie, "Your plan was beautifully conceived and masterfully executed. Perhaps you should just talk a little more before pulling out the urns next time."

"Incredibly, your father is right," Debbie says, looking pleasantly surprised before turning her gaze to Steve. She sighs and holds out a hand, squeezing Steve's when he takes it. "Don't get so blinded by a beautiful pair of shoes that you completely miss the sale two aisles over, Steve. At the very least, do a little more research before resorting to torture and murder. Personally, I'm very tired of calling the family's lawyer."

Steve snorts at the utter lie. Debbie loves calling the family's lawyer. She does so regularly just to double-check the state of Fester's stocks and bonds and deeds and general worth. "Okay," he says, nodding once, "I'll remember for the next school."

"You know," Fester says, looking at Debbie hopefully, "Pubert is a senior this year. Maybe Steve could go to high school with him."

Debbie hesitates, frowning slightly before saying, "Yes, but it's...public school."

"The best Gomez and Morticia could find! It was highly recommended by Margaret, and Pubert can make sure Steve adjusts and makes friends."

Steve can see the moment his mother agrees. She sighs, lets go of his hand, and fixes her already perfect bob. "Well, I suppose," she says before looking at Steve once more. "And you, Steve? Would you like to try...public school for your junior year?"

"Sure, might be fun," Steve says, thinking about all the movies he's seen that display public high schools as a zoo and the worst place on Earth. It sounds great, and if the place is still standing while Pubert attends, it must be somewhat entertaining.

------

"You've got everything you'll need?"

Steve looks up from lacing his shoes and smiles at his mother, earning a nervous grin in return. Her blonde hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, and Steve feels warm and fuzzy (like a mold growing over his heart) at knowing she's so worried as to appear less-than-perfect in front of him.

"Yes, I've got everything," he says, gesturing to the backpack on the stairs next to him. In addition to notebooks and his pencil case, Steve has also packed a travel mace, a miniature bomb (alarm clock detonator stored separately, of course), a tiny bottle of tequila, and his lucky lightbulb (just in case).

His mother nods once, takes a deep breath, and then turns her head toward the kitchen to shout, "FESTER!"

Something crashes, a cat (they don't have a cat) yowls, and Steve's father slides into the doorway. "Yes, Pumpkin?" he asks, eyes bright and happy and utterly stuck on Debbie.

"Is Steve's lunch ready? You made something normal, right?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.

Fester glances at Steve, a brief look shared between them that's both sympathetic and endeared toward Debbie. "Of course," Fester says, disappearing for two seconds before striding over to the stairs with a pink lunch box decorated with black skulls (Steve chose the color, Fester chose the pattern, and Debbie gave them her stamp of approval). "A turkey sandwich, fruit, cookies, and juice."

"Fruit?" Debbie asks, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Apple slices!"

After a few seconds, Debbie nods, and Fester gives the lunch box to Steve, shifting some so Debbie doesn't see the conspiratorial wink that tells him the juice is definitely poisoned. Steve grins and shoves the lunch box into his bag. He finishes lacing his shoes and stands, holding his arms out so his mother can inspect him.

"You've done a wonderful job pairing your shirt and shoes," Debbie says, walking around Steve with an air of pride and approval. She rubs the sleeve of his pastel yellow sweater between her thumb and forefinger, nodding once. "The plum pants are a bold choice, but it pays off. And, as always, your hair is flawless, dear."

Steve grins, letting his arms fall to his side. "I tried that new mousse you gave me," he says, fingers twitching as he fights the urge to run them through his hair. "It works great."

His mother smiles even wider and kisses his cheek, pulling out a handkerchief and carefully wiping away the lipstick residue she leaves behind. "I knew it would," she says, inspecting Steve's face once more before nodding with approval.

"Pumpkin, it's time for Steve to go. Pubert is waiting."

Debbie huffs softly and gives Steve one last once over before nodding and hurrying him toward the door. "Have a good day at school, try not to blow anything up, and call me if Pubert tries to cut off your head with a rusty knife again," she says.

"What if it's a clean knife?"

"Well, that's fine. Grandmama will just sew it back on."

Steve grins and waves to both of his parents before hurrying toward the sidewalk where Pubert is waiting. His hair is parted down the middle and gelled down, his pencil-thin mustache is immaculate as ever, and he's wearing a three-piece suit. When Steve is closer, he pulls out two cigars and offers one.

"This isn't an exploding cigar again, right? I'm wearing a new shirt," Steve says, taking it and looking it over.

"Nah, that joke only works once," Pubert says, dragging a match against his palm to light it. He holds it to his cigar first, puffs a few times, and then does the same for Steve. "How long till you get expelled again, you think?"

Steve shrugs as he takes a puff from the cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment before skillfully blowing it out in perfect circles as they walk. "I haven't been to a public school before," he says, tapping the cigar over the sidewalk, "so, hopefully, at least a year."

"Public school is fun," Pubert says, getting a wicked grin as he looks at Steve. "You can get away with a lot."

"And the other kids?"

"Well, they've certainly got a lot to learn. I mean, most of them can't even handle a little cyanide."

Steve scrunches his nose and takes another puff of his cigar. After a few seconds he asks, "Will we have any classes together?"

"You're a year below me, so maybe an elective or two. What did you sign up for?"

"I signed up for, uh, shop class, forensic science, and Gothic literature."

"We'll have Gothic lit together," Pubert says, flashing a smile before asking, "And you know what shop class is, right?"

Steve blinks, suddenly a little hesitant. "Is it not, like, something about shopping?"

"No. It's building things. With wood, usually."

"Oh! So, I can build anything?"

"I guess. I haven't taken it."

"Well, I'll find out. Maybe I can build Dad a catapult or guillotine or something."

As they get closer to the school, more students fill the sidewalks, but Steve notices that most of them seem to give him and Pubert a wide berth. They also stare, looking at Steve like he's some kind of puzzle to be solved, with more than a few flashing sympathetic smiles like he's trapped and can't get away. "You're popular," Steve notes, taking one last puff of his cigar before dropping it into a trash can.

"I would fucking hope so," Pubert says, finishing off his cigar and tossing it into the next trash can they pass. "I didn't flood the place with roaches and vermin to not be known."

Steve grins, listening as Pubert regales him with the tale only to cut it short when they get inside the school and pass the front office. "I need to get my schedule, but Mom said she made sure we'd have lunch together," Steve says.

Pubert waves him off. "Yeah, I'll meet you in the cafeteria. Have fun, cousin," he replies, mockingly saluting him before heading off down the main hall.

-----

Steve's first class of the day was AP Calculus, followed by AP Physics, Wood Shop, and AP U.S. History. When it's finally time for lunch, he surveys the cafeteria for a few seconds before finding a table in a dark corner that everyone seems to avoid. By the time he gets there, Pubert has sat down with a tray from the lunch line.

Steve sets his backpack on the table, sits down, and says, "For a place that's so lifeless, it's not even fun."

"Yeah, it's like that," Pubert agrees, poking some unidentifiable mush on his tray with a spork before spooning some into his mouth.

It's with a somewhat jealous expression that Steve pulls out his lunch box and removes a thermos of poisoned juice. "Is it bad?" he asks, nodding to the tray.

"Utterly repulsive."

Steve sighs and takes a sip from the thermos before pulling out everything else in his lunch box. "They made me wear safety goggles in shop. Safety goggles! It's like they don't know how fun splinters in the eyes are. And everyone is soooo scared of the saws, it's ridiculous," he complains, taking an angry bite of his sandwich.

"What about your other classes?"

"Physics would be better with more practical examples. I mean, who cares about apples when we could learn if a body falls faster than a cannonball?"

"From experience, no," Pubert says, "Anyway, you gonna join any clubs?"

"Maybe the swim team? If I'm lucky, I'll drown," Steve says, perking up a little at the thought.

"Best of luck with that," Pubert replies, stealing Steve's thermos to take a sip of his juice. When he places it back, he offers Steve a sporkful of the mush.

Steve lights up and happily tries it, wondering how something can be so perfectly undercooked and overcooked at the same time. "Impressive," he says, passing the spork back. "Is that freezer burn?"

Before Pubert can answer, a bang from the other side of the cafeteria cuts off all other sounds. Steve glances over to see a boy in heavy combat boots climbing onto his table with a mischievous grin. He's wearing a shirt with a devil head on it and "Hellfire Club" emblazoned above and a vest with spikes, pins, and patches. His hair is just below his shoulders and a little curly, and Steve can see from here the wild glint in his eyes as he stomps down the table while talking.

"I'm tired of the double standards of this lame school. If you're into science or band or some other 'uncool' interest, the administration couldn't give two shits! Oh, the choir room needs new risers so the current ones don't break any necks? Well, that's too bad, we've got to give the football team new monogrammed towels for the locker room!" the guy says, grinning when a group of kids to the side shouts their agreement. "And never mind that our Robotics team has won the school three trophies when the basketball team so valiantly scraped into third place last year for being kinda good at throwing balls into laundry baskets."

"Prick!"

Steve glances at the guy who shouted, taking in his letterman jacket before quickly dismissing him. He looks back in time to see the boy on the table sticking out his tongue and holding his hands to his temples to make horns. There's an even wilder look in his eyes now, a sheer glee at causing a scene and getting under someone's skin.

Steve doesn't realize he's smiling until the boy scoffs, shouts one more line about the school's unfair preference for "mediocre jocks," and hops off the table. He looks over at Pubert and asks, "Who was that?"

Pubert glances at Steve, studying him for a moment before swallowing another mouthful of mush and saying, "Eddie Munson. He does that once a week, usually."

"Eddie Munson," Steve murmurs, glancing over at Eddie's table again and smiling a little wider.

[beat-the-morning]

🖤Guitar Face || Hozier x Reader🖤

FULL FIC ON TUMBLR AFTER CUT || READ ON AO3

Rating: 18+ - Smut

Tags: Pre-Debut Hozier, vaginal fingering, finger sucking, vaginal sex, teasing, protected sex.

Summary: Andrew teaches you how to play guitar while you both try to ignore the very obvious and overwhelming sexual tension between you.

Word count: 5.4k

A/N: I’m back after a month of not posting (sorry lol) with a long fic to make up for lost time (yay) and to take our minds off of everything, really. When will I post my next fic, you ask? I don’t fucking know man, I’m just vibing. I do have a few ideas that I want to start, including a multichapter fic that will get written someday. Love you all, enjoy this pre-debut hozier fic💙

💙FULL FIC UNDER THE CUT💙

You needed a hobby, urgently. It was your second semester of your first year of university at Trinity College Dublin, and you had yet to find something to occupy your time that wasn’t studying, working, or just doing nothing with the group of friends that, despite your nervous and introverted nature, you had managed to form in your first semester. You were desperate for something new to do, a new skill or pastime to occupy you when all your friends were busy or simply when you felt like doing something other than hanging out with them.

The idea of learning guitar came to you after talking to one of your friends about your newfound need for a hobby, she mentioned that you had a great sense of rhythm and that you already really liked music, so why not pick up an instrument. She didn’t tell you to pick up guitar specifically, but it seemed like a good choice for learning in your spare time, and it’s not like you had the money to buy a keyboard or drums, much less a more classical instrument like a violin, a cello or a harp, and you already knew that you didn’t have the lungs for wind instruments.

You asked around your friend group if anyone had any suggestions for cheap guitars to buy, you got one that was moderately good and within your budget. You started to learn by yourself, the only thing was that you sucked, you barely understood the tutorials you found on youtube and didn’t even know if you were really doing it right, your fingers were sloppy and uncoordinated and you only angered yourself more and more with each note you got wrong. So, after two weeks and a half of frustration, you decided that maybe a guitar teacher wasn’t a bad idea, and that if that didn’t work you’d sell your guitar and pick up photography or something that didn’t require you to use your fingers as much.

It was Friday evening, and some members of Trinity Orchestra were having a small rehearsal/get together, and you knew your friend would be there since she was a pianist in the orchestra, so maybe she could help you learn guitar or at the very least find a teacher. You arrived at the get together when it was almost finished, you didn’t want to interrupt them, even if it wasn’t really a rehearsal, you felt out of place just by being there. Miranda, your friend, spotted you from her bench and beckoned you over to her, she’d been expecting you since you told her earlier that day that you’d go see her at the rehearsal, she was leaning on the closed piano, a half eaten bag of crisps sat on the cover of its keys. “I thought you’d come sooner, you missed the little concert.” She smiled.

“Nah, I’d rather not interrupt.” You smiled back, “anyway, what I wanted to talk about before you ran off today because of your horrible time manage skills-“

“-They’re not that bad, come on.” She pouted playfully, faking indignation.

“Bullshit.” You argued back, trying to hold in a laugh. “Now, do you know how to play guitar?”

“No, just piano, and the organ, kind of. Why?”

“I’ve been trying to learn how to play on my own but I can’t get the hang of it, I need a teacher or something.” You explained, trying to be quiet enough so that no one else would hear.

“Teacher for what?” A masculine voice asked from behind you, making you jump slightly in surprise. You turned around, a lanky guy with dorky glasses and a blonde fringe stood there, looking at you as he tried to guess who you were. “Have we met before?” He finally asked.

“I don’t think so,” you answered, a nervous smile on your face

“I’m Alex,” he smiled back to you, but his smile was more welcoming than anything else. You told him your name, and that you were a friend of Miranda, which prompted her to speak up.

“They’re trying to learn guitar,” she joined in. “Maybe you could help them?”

“Can’t, I’m drowning in coursework already, sorry,” Alex said earnestly, seeming genuinely sorry that he wasn’t able to help you learn how to play.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure I’ll find someone to teach me.” You assured him, relaxing a bit more now that you had spoken the slightest bit more to him.

“Andy could help you, though.” A smirk grew on his face, “he’s always looking for an excuse to not do his work.”

“Andrew’s a vocalist though isn’t he?” Miranda chimed in again.

“He does more things apart from singing, you know.” Answered Alex.

“I didn’t know he played guitar though, I’ve never seen him play it.” She argued.

“He does! He’s self taught though, so his has this weird way of playing where he-“

“Sorry, but, who’s Andrew?” You interrupted, needing some clarification as to who they were talking about.

“Right, you don’t know who he is,” Alex chuckled, “he’s that one over there.” He said, pointing over to a group of about five guys all chatting while standing around a table.

“Which one?” You asked, still not knowing who to look at.

“The tall one.” Alex and Miranda said in unison. Your eyes focused on him, a pale, lanky guy with dark, shaggy curls on his head and a 3 day stubble on his face and neck, he was at least half a head taller than the second tallest man in the conversation circle. He was smiling, his cheeks a rosy tone from how much he’d been laughing, his front teeth were slightly crooked from what you could see from a distance, and you noticed a pair of glasses in his left hand as your eyes trailed down his body, you assumed that they were his glasses with how he was holding them so close to his body. He was so cute, you thought to yourself, a bit of a nerd maybe but it’s not like you weren’t into it as well.

“Andy!” Alex’s call broke your train of thought, and maybe that was for the best, who knows where you were going to end up with those. Andrew turned to look at Alex, noticing Miranda sat on her seat, and then you, you could’ve sworn you saw him look you up and down as a small smirk formed on his face. Alex moved his arm to call him over, and he approached without hesitation, quickly walking over to the little group you were in.

Alex introduced you to each other and quickly explained your situation to Andrew, who agreed to teach you. You agreed on payment, how many times a week you’d meet, the whole thing, really, and then you exchanged numbers.

“If you want we can meet up tomorrow and we can start with the basics,” he suggested, putting on his glasses as he put your number in his phone. Fucking hell, he looked adorable with them on, you felt your cheeks heat up as you looked at him.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” you agreed without thinking, “I’ll send you my address and we can meet at my place if you want.”

“Sure,” he looked at you with a small smile. You decided on a time to meet and then went home for the night after saying goodbye to your friend.

You felt a nervous knot in your stomach as you laid down in your bed, the worry of making a fool of yourself in front of a cute guy was catching up on you. You shook those thoughts off, putting on some faint music before finally going to sleep.

You woke up the next day, looking at the clock on your bedside table only to find that it wasn’t actually morning, but past noon, almost 1pm in fact. You got ready for the day and had what could best be described as a big brunch before deciding to clean your apartment before Andrew arrived later in the day, something that you only remembered when you saw a message from him confirming that he had your address right. Why did you agree to this again? You cursed yourself as you cleaned up the small space you lived in, it was an attic converted into a studio apartment that was way too cheap for how big it was, but it’s not like you were going to complain.

Time passed as you finished cleaning your apartment, having just enough time to shower before Andrew arrived. You had just finished dressing up when your phone rang, you picked up to find Andrew on the other side of the line, asking you to open since the doorbell wasn’t working, so, taking your keys in your hand, you ran downstairs to open the front door for him. He was carrying a guitar case and what you assumed was a small amp, he wore a very simple outfit, a shirt and jeans with a brown leather jacket and some old tattered converse, but no glasses. “I like the jacket.” You said while guiding him towards the elevator.

“Thanks,” he smiled shyly, “I brought my electric guitar, I hope you don’t mind, my acoustic one has a broken string and I still need to replace it.”

“It’s fine, mine is electric too.” You smiled back.

You went into your apartment, he commented on the fact that it was a studio, and on the absence of a sofa. “The TV’s over there so I usually just put all my pillows on my bed and use it as a couch.” You explained, pointing out the TV on the wall next to the bed. Andrew laughed to himself, he mumbled something under his breath that you thought sounded like “that’s so fucking cute”. He sat on your bed, taking out his guitar and tuning it without even plugging it in to the amp.

You took out yours, tuning it as well with an app on your phone. You and Andrew talked for a bit, making jokes and breaking the tension before he explained the basics of guitar playing to you. You listened attentively and asked questions about the things you didn’t understand, he was a great teacher so far, and you could honestly listen to him speak for hours, his voice was lovely, no wonder Miranda said he was mainly a vocalist.

The time came to finally plug in the guitars, yours was already plugged to your amp, you just needed to turn it on, which you quickly did while Andrew set up his, he plugged the amp to the wall, grabbing the cable to plug it into his guitar, he wasn’t paying much attention to it though, his mind was somewhere else. While his head was, in fact, pointing down towards the guitar, his eyes were mostly looking up at you through his brows, using his curls as a shield so you wouldn’t notice him staring. His hand faltered, the jack circled the plug it was supposed to go in, making some magnetic noises come from the amplifier, you smiled at his dorkiness, finding it adorable. “Trouble putting it in?” You asked, not fully realising the other possible meaning of the question until it was already out of your mouth, he looked up at you with a quizzical look before you both burst into laughter at the question.

“I’m good, thanks,” he said between laughs, getting the jack into the plug once he finally stopped looking up at you. “‘trouble putting it in,’?” He echoed your words with a lovingly mocking tone, trying not to laugh again.

“I wasn’t thinking!” You tried to defend yourself while suppressing more laughter.

“Clearly,” he giggled.

The real, practical, lesson finally began, you spent the next hour and a half learning to play a couple chords and how to transition between them. It was hell, your hands were oddly shaky and very uncoordinated, so you asked for a break before you threw your guitar out the window. “Tea?” You asked, already thinking about making some for yourself so you could have an excuse to wander your apartment for a bit.

“Sure, I’ll have whatever you have.” Andrew nodded, standing up and stretching a bit and walking over to your bookshelf.

You went over to the kitchenette to put the kettle on, your thoughts wandering to how Andrew looked, he was so pretty, and you were definitely embarrassing yourself with your horrible guitar skills, but he had to have expected that, right? You did tell him that you knew basically nothing about playing guitar after all.

He walked closer to you, leaning on the kitchen island. “You’re not as bad as you told me you’d be yesterday, you know.” He said with a kind look in his eyes.

“I’m not?” You asked as you turned to face him.

“Yeah, I mean, your fingers are a bit uncoordinated and all but that’s just getting the hang of it.” He explained. “You picked up the chords and their positions on the neck of the guitar pretty quickly, though, that’s a good sign.”

“Oh, well that’s good at least,” you chuckled, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get the hang of it, though, I have horrible hand-eye coordination.”

“It can’t be that bad, come on,” he scoffed playfully, walking over to you and almost-sitting on the counter closest to you

“It is.”

“I think your hands are just fine, you just need to practise, and maybe learning guitar will help when you do other things with your hands, it did for me.” He winked, you felt your face heat up.

“What other things?” You tilted your head to the side as you smirked.

“Just… things, you’ll see what I mean.” He chuckled, he pressed his thumb into his palm. His eyes looked you up and down slowly, but you pretended not to notice.

“Oh I’m sure.” You laughed.

The water boiled and you made the tea, you lost the track of time as your conversation went on, it was ever so slightly flirty, just some comments here and there that made you both blush coupled with a few lingering touches. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to do more than just learn guitar with him, but you didn’t want to be too forward, so you waited.

/#/#/#/

You met with Andrew for guitar lessons every other day for the next four weeks, slowly improving on your skill while also getting to know each other more and more, to the point that you’d hang out with him even if you weren’t practising, you’d gone to the pub with him and a few more friends a couple times and would just randomly message each other every so often throughout the day just to check on one another. It was nice, and, even if your crush on him had only gotten stronger as the days passed, you were glad to have a new friend. He was so sweet and just the right amount of dorky nerd that you couldn’t help but love him, you only hoped he felt the same way about you.

It was a Saturday evening, Andrew had been over at your apartment since lunch, you’d started the lesson right after he arrived at 1 and it was now 6:30pm, he’d been teaching you a song, or more so trying to. It wasn’t even a hard one, your hands just were not collaborating today and both you and Andrew were growing increasingly frustrated.

You were standing next to your bed while Andrew sat down on it, the guitar was strapped around you, you were considering making it against the ground in frustration. “You look angry, darling.” He pointed out, his expression unreadable.

“I’m not,” you lied, “just frustrated, I don’t know why I can’t get it right.”

“Maybe your hands are just tired, rest a bit and try again later.” He suggested.

“No.”

“The guitar won’t leave if you stop playing for a second, you know?”

“I just want to get this part right, just to hear how it sounds and then I’ll rest.”

Andrew scoffed, the smallest smirk forming on his face, he rolled his eyes before standing up and walking over to you, his frame towering over yours. “Let’s hear it then.” He ordered.

You swallowed air nervously, slightly intimidated by the combination of his height and the more strict and dominant tone his voice had taken. Your fingers moved on the guitar, clumsily playing the song and restarting it every time you messed up a note. After a few failed attempts, he moved behind you, grabbing the guitar even though it was still on you.

He pushed himself flush against your back, his hands playing the instrument as if you weren’t there. You felt the vibrations of the guitar against your abdomen and his body against your back, and, thanks to your height difference, you could perfectly feel his crotch pressing against your lower back. You felt your face heat up and a few whimpers escaping your mouth as he played, and he was definitely getting a bit into it as well, thrusting his hips into you as the song went on, the worst part was that you weren’t even sure if he was doing it because of the song or to rile you up, but that was the effect it was having anyway.

He stopped playing before he got to the chorus of the song, taking the guitar off you before he finally stepped away. “Heard it. Now, rest.” He instructed, throwing himself back on your makeshift couch.

“What the hell was that?” You asked dumbfounded, a nervous chuckle escaped you.

“Sorry, I just… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, it was weird.” He mumbled, his eyes focusing on your pillows instead of on you.

“I didn’t think it was weird,” you stretched the truth lightly, you had thought it slightly weird when he did that, but you also couldn’t ignore the burning between your thighs and you needed to know if he was feeling the same way you were right now. “You could’ve just taken the guitar off me, though.”

“It wouldn’t have worked, you would’ve gotten mad at me.” He bit his lip to fight back a smirk. “I wasn’t really thinking, anyway, and you said you wanted to hear how it sounded so… yeah.”

Your eyes wandered to his crotch for a second, he looked like he was at least slightly hard. Quickly focusing back on his face, you giggled and threw yourself on the makeshift couch next to him, you laid on your side, looking at Andrew with a small, loving smile on your face.

“What’s the smile for?” He asked, turning to his side so he could face you as well.

“Nothing,” you continued to smile. “It’s just funny that you’re kind of beating yourself up about it when I actually kinda liked it.”

“Oh?” His eyes widened for a second as he scooted closer to you. “And what about it did you like?”

“I like how the guitar felt against me. The vibrations of it, you know? I play so slow that I don’t usually feel them like… that.” You bit your thumb lightly, trying to appear a bit more innocent so he wouldn’t guess what you were really thinking about.

“Yeah, they’re nice,” he looked at your lips as well, then scooted even closer. “Anything else you liked?”

“Well… I liked how you felt… against me.” You admitted, only to see Andrew’s smile widening. His hand moved to your cheek, silently encouraging you to keep going. “I liked how you were thrusting against me, it felt nice.”

“Just nice?” He teased, caressing your cheek.

“It was kinda hot, too.”

“I thought so too, maybe we could do something about it?” He suggested, his hand moving to your hip.

You nodded weakly, your lips parting ever so slightly. Andrew lunged in to kiss you, his mouth crashing against yours as you kissed him back passionately. Slowly he moved to be on top of you as you kissed, his right leg moved between yours, pressing against your core. Your hips moved against his legs, desperate for any kind of release. His tongue darted into your mouth, exploring as it pleased while your hands tangled in his shaggy curls.

You deepened the kiss, it became sloppier and more desperate as the seconds passed by, Andrew pulled back, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths to each other’s. His breathing mirrored yours, ragged and irregular even as you tried to calm down slightly. His glasses were slipping off his nose, so, as one does, you moved your hand from his hair and adjusted them, making him chuckle softly. “I feel like a fucking teenager.” He laughed, leaning in to plant small kisses on your jaw and neck.

“You’re twenty-two, not that far from it.” You teased while quiet moans escaped your lips.

“Shut up.” He laughed, his kisses on your skin turning more demanding. His hands snaked under your shirt, slowly pulling it off you until he could finally throw it on to the floor. He grabbed your breasts, moving his face between them before starting to kiss and lightly bite them, you arched your back into him, more moans escaping you.

“Fuck! Andy… please,” you moaned loudly, he hummed against your chest.

“What is it, baby?” He asked with a wicked smile, looking up at you through the rim of his glasses. You whimpered and rubbed yourself against his leg as a response, making him chuckle once more. “So needy… I’ve been wanting you for a while, let me at least play a little before I ravage you.”

“Play faster, I want you now.” You whined again, pulling him in to kiss him. He happily obliged, kissing you back while his hands made quick work of your jeans.

Your jeans and underwear quickly joined the growing pile of discarded clothing on your floor, leaving you completely bare. Your hands moved from Andrew’s hair as he pulled away from your mouth, instead trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone once more, your touch moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling at the cloth to try and pull it off him already. He quickly caught onto that and pulled his own shirt and undershirt off himself, uncovering his torso. He was still as lanky and thin as he was with clothes on, but he was a bit fuller than you had imagined, the slightest bit of pudge gathering on his abdomen. Your gaze turned him slightly shy, his cheeks reddening as he looked away for a second.

“I know this probably isn’t what you imagined,” he said sheepishly, a nervous tone in his voice, “I’m s-“

“You’re so pretty,” you interrupted him, still staring at his body.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do.” You smiled, your hands grazed his skin. “You’re very hot, too.”

“Flatterer.” He smiled back, leaning in to kiss you again. You felt goosebumps forming on his skin the more you caressed him.

“I would never, I’m only saying what I think.” You kissed him back.

He hummed happily into the kiss, his hand travelling lower and lower on your body until it reached your core. He gently caressed it with two fingers, smiling darkly when he felt just how wet you were. Slowly, he played with your clit, making you whimper and buckle your hips against his hand, silently begging for more. He obliged, moving to push two fingers inside you and making you gasp at the intrusion, he slowly pumped them in and out, his thumb moving to play with your clit.

“Is this something that playing guitar helps with?” You teased while trying to suppress your moans.

Andrew chuckled, his fingers quickening. “Yes, actually.” He kissed along your jaw. “It helps a lot, makes it easier to fuck you.”

You moaned more, holding onto him like a lifeline as he played with you. His lips moved to your neck again, leaving passionate kisses and hickeys as he memorised every inch of your skin. His movements quickened even more, his thumb playing with your clit in a way that made your legs shake slightly, his other hand grabbed your hip, his nails digging into your skin. You felt the all-familiar burning-white desire in your lower abdomen, your whines got more and more high pitched until they were nothing more than needy whimpers.

Andrew chuckled, pulling away from your neck to look at your face as you came undone before him. “That’s it, let go for me,” he whispered softly, his free hand now moving up to brush your hair away from your face. “That’s it, good girl. Let me feel you, baby, please.”

You felt something snap within you at his words, pure pleasure running through you as you came on his fingers, covering them with your essence. He smiled at your blissed out expression, taking it in as he fingered you through your orgasm. Once it subsided he pulled out his fingers and licked them clean as you looked at him, a moan escaping him as he finally tasted you.

“Fuck, you’re delicious, I’m going to fucking devour you next time.” He growled.

“Why not now?” You teased breathlessly, still recovering from your orgasm.

“Because I might explode if I don’t put my dick inside you right now.” He teased back, reaching into his wallet for a condom. “Can I fuck you now, baby? Or do you need to recover a bit more first?”

“Now, please.” You begged without thinking.

Andrew smiled at your eagerness, taking off his pants and underwear to reveal his cock, it was as long as you thought, or hoped, it’d be, somewhere above average that was still enjoyable, but his thickness surprised you, he was wider than you’d imagined. You felt your mouth watering. “You’re staring.” He said firmly, rolling on the condom, “does it scare you?” He asked, his tone a mixture of dominance and genuine concern.

“No.” You smiled, opening your legs more. “I was just a bit surprised.”

“A good surprise, I hope.” He smiled back, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer to him. You chuckled at his words.

“A very good surprise, yeah.”

You reached out to touch him once again, his hands catching yours and pushing them to be above your head. He held them in place with his left hand while his right travelled to your thigh, lifting it ever so slightly as he positioned himself between your legs. His cock brushed lightly against your core, making you both whimper lightly at the feeling, then, slowly, he pushed in. Your gasp matched his moaning, soft and quiet enough that it was almost whispered, he was pushing in slowly, making sure it wasn’t painful for you. He bottomed out after a few more seconds, his movements stopping as he let you get used to his size. He leaned in to kiss you, a slow, loving kiss that had you melting into his touch even more.

You moved your hips after a few kisses, signalling Andrew to move. He happily obliged, slowly thrusting in and out of you. Your moans filled the room, making a symphony with his. “You feel so fucking good, baby, oh my god.” He practically whimpered into your ear, interlocking his fingers with yours. His other hand held tightly onto your thigh, his grip almost bruising as he lost himself in you. You shook your hand free from his, moving it to his hair along with your other hand to pull him in for a kiss, muffling your moans.

“Faster, please.” You begged between kisses, Andrew growled in response, letting go of all his restraint. His pace quickened to a brutal one, pistoning in and out of you without a care in the world. Your hands moved down to his back, your nails leaving scratches as you neared your peak just from the feeling of his cock inside you.

He straightened up, getting a better view of you, completely blissed out and moaning like crazy, sweat making some of your hair stick to your face. His hand caressed your cheek lovingly, his thumb pressing on your mouth to pry it open. “Open up, baby.” He ordered, and you obeyed without hesitation. His thumb moved inside your mouth, pressing on your tongue. “Suck.” He added.

And you did, sucking gently on his thumb as a lopsided smile grew in his face. He whispered soft praises as he fucked you, his thumb thrusting slightly in and out at a gentle pace to contrast the one of his hips.

He moved your leg with his other hand so your ankle would be resting on his shoulder, changing the angle in just the right position so his pubic bone would hit your clit every time he bottomed out. Your moans got louder, or as much as they could since your sucking of his thumb muffled most of the noise. Andrew moaned too, quieter, softer moans that could only be audible between your own, but you loved every single one you could hear. You felt his cock twitch inside you.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your own hand moving to your clit to give you the extra friction you needed. Andrew pulled his thumb out of your mouth and moved it to your clit before you could reach it on your own, flicking it rapidly as he moved your leg off his shoulder so he could lean in to kiss you again. You moaned into his mouth and he moaned into yours, both of you nearing your respective climaxes, his cock twitched more inside you, his thrusting becoming erratic and uncoordinated. You felt the pure, unadulterated ecstasy threatening to explode within you once more, your hands moving once more to Andrew’s hair as he kissed you.

“Come for me, baby, come on, let me hear you again pet.” He moaned, pulling back slightly so he could see your face as you came undone below him. “So fuckin’ pretty, come on, love.”

You came under him not long after, pure pleasure flowing through you as your body shook with your orgasm. But Andrew didn’t stop, chasing his own release as his thrusts became even more irregular than before, and, just as you were starting to feel the overstimulation taking over, he came, releasing his spent into the condom and stopping his movements almost completely, savouring the feeling of your walls around him. He moaned loudly, his head going back slightly as his eyes closed and his jaw slacked, you grinned slightly, recognising his current expression as the same one he did when playing a more upbeat guitar solo.

After a few more seconds, you both calmed down, and Andrew leaned in to kiss you once more, slowly and lovingly this time. You kissed back, your bodies still entangled with each other as you savoured the afterglow of your lovemaking. Carefully, and despite how much neither of you wanted that, he pulled out of you, detaching himself from you so he could take off the condom and throw it out. “I’ll be back in a second, stay put.” He murmured before giving you a quick kiss and walking towards your bathroom.

He came back not long after with a damp washcloth in hand, cleaning you up slightly before helping you sit up on your bed. “I should go to the bathroom,” you pointed out.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “go on, I’ll wait here for you.”

You smiled lovingly, getting up and into the bathroom, coming out of it a few minutes later after refreshing yourself. You found Andrew laying on your bed, having put his boxers back on while you’d been washing up. He smiled at the sight of you, opening his arms for you to cuddle into, and that you did, crawling into your bed and hugging him tight. He played with your hair as you cuddled, talking about random things before you decided to be a bit cheeky. “Did you know you have the exact same face when playing guitar that you do when you cum?”

“Shut up,” he laughed, “…do I really?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it at least a nice face or do I look like an idiot?” His face reddened ever so slightly.

“I think it’s a very pretty face, just like your normal one.” You assured him honestly.

“Thank god.” He laughed again, holding you tighter to him. “Can I stay the night?” He added, a hint of uncertainty and pleading in his tone.

“You better stay.” You smiled, nuzzling your face into his chest.

Andrew smiled back, burying his face in your hair and taking in your scent.

[thefiery-phoenix]

PLATONIC YANDERE MALFOY FAMILY

Narcissa would probably be the first person to meet you and get obsessed with you? How? That's a very goo question but fortunately or unfortunately for you, she'd either spot you at Diagon Alley curiously checking out the cauldron shops and thinking what to buy for your first year at Hogwarts. Draco may or may not be in the same year as you but either way, you'll still have a new friend. Or she'd probably meet you at Flourish and Blotts reading your list and struggling to hold the books. She'll be ever so kind to help you with your books and she'll start cooing how cute and adorable you look, her protective motherly instincts kicking in to see such an innocent little child like you all alone. And she isn't too fond of your parents either for leaving you alone and if she ever sees them, she'll be having a word with them. Or maybe little more than having just a word with them 

After that interaction she sees you come to Diagon Alley a few more times and each time she gets real touchy and grabby with you till you tell her to quit it and you try running away from her, hoping against hope that you'll never see her again. But Narcissa is infatuated with you and she just can't stop thinking about you and how you might be suffering with your so called family. Lucius will observe her cheerful and happy behavior and it would confuse him for a while till he demands her to explain why she's behaving in such a weird manner. Narcissa then spills her heart out to Lucius and Draco describing every detail and inch of you perfectly 

Lucius just brushes her off not thinking too much about it but Draco is somewhat curious to know who you are and how you've managed to capture his mother's heart. He decided to keep an eye and a lookout for you if at all the does manage to see you and he sincerely hoped you'd be in Slytherin along with him 

Draco would see you in the Great Hall for the first time either for your Sorting Hat ceremony or you're just there with the rest of the other people applauding the first years and stuff. Whatever the case is, if you're in Slytherin he'll be really happy and pleased, you'll end up sitting with him for everything and you're like the Slytherin Princess to the Slytherin Prince or something. If you're not in Slytherin and you ended up in some other house especially Gryffindor, he'll be sulky and sulk around for a while like a child when denied candy and his feelings are hurt. He wouldn't be able to spend too much time with you as he thought but no matter, he'll still find a way to make you notice him and make you be his friend. Oh, and anytime he sees someone trying to bully you or tease you, they'll be at the wrong end of Malfoy and his family and let me tell you, NO ONE wants to be on the wrong end of the Malfoys since you know.... they ARE Death Eaters after all and they're not going to spare the fool who dared to insult you like that 

Draco will lure you into a friendship pretty quick and he's really clingy, always getting jealous if you pay attention to someone else other than him. If that person ends up taking too much of your time and attention he'll just get mad and secretly find a way to hex them and pretend like he doesn't know anything

Lucius meets you one fine day while visiting Hogwarts, to criticize Dumbledore's teachings of course and the ways and methods of education of the staff there. And Draco introduces you to his father despite your indignant protests. And guess who told their parents all about you in their letters to their parents updating them on what you do every singe freaking day? The little ferret here. Lucius finally understands why Narcissa and Draco are so obsessed with you and he couldn't believe someone so innocent and naive like you was getting mixed up in friendships with mudbloods, blood traitors, half breeds and half bloods (So sorry Hermione, Ron, Hagrid and Harry, no offence TvT)

Don't be too surprised if your real family disappears one fine day. Draco sees you crying and his heart feels like shattering into a million pieces, he doesn't want to see his darling baby sister/ brother cry! He thought you'd be glad that those fakers were now dead and you can now return home to your real family but he really didn't expect you to start crying. So, he'll comfort you no matter how much time it takes. Oh and guess which family now has custody of you? The Malfoys and if you've guessed that right, yay you, you win a cookie! 🍪

The Malfoys don't want you getting mixed up in all this Death Eater business but they'll find out anyways and if you're not careful of your actions you'll have Voldy as a platonic yandere for you as well. Bellatrix might be a bit sus of you at first but when she sees how happy and glad her sister is, she'll accept you as well and even though she isn't a Malfoy she will gladly kill anyone who dares to look at you in the wrong way

You'll always be their perfect innocent little angel in this dark and tainted world 

[corn-cardigan]

please yap about enki’s sister I beg of you. she’s so cool and so are you

AW thank you!! 🫶

and thanks for letting me indulge in talking about these two!! here's how I see it:

I really like the idea that the ritual fight that was mentioned in Enki's intro wasn't the only time he had to face off against his sister. It was always like that for him and Ninmah. The priests that took them in saw their potential and wanted to know who the superior sibling was.

My headcanon is that not only was Enki physically weaker than her, but emotionally frail as well. That no matter what, he'd always be a close second to his "better" twin. Ninmah was exceptional and obedient. Enki was completely pathetic next to her.

I like to think when they were super young, they did care for each other. But under harsh, abusive conditions from the priests, it further drove a wedge between them. And Enki's frailty warped into his distinct bitterness as to no longer appear as weak - as to compete on the same level as Ninmah.

The ritual fight was an inevitability. A scheme to see who truly was strong enough to live. So when Ninmah spared Enki, it was sort of her way of communicating that she still cared about her brother. Even if they were pitted against one another, even if she seemed unfeeling and unbothered, she still loved him as much as a young (definitely traumatized) girl could in that situation.

So when Enki's given the choice to either accept her mercy or literally backstab her, both are completely plausible. Like yeah he also possibly still loves her. That's his sister and she was always there for him. But on the other hand, after years of cruel reprimanding, he finally had the perfect opportunity to prove his superiority.

Either way, it doesn't end happily at all. If Enki kills Ninmah and raises her as a ghoul, I'm going to assume she won't be completely herself. She's basically dead. The other route is also tragic. Enki accepts defeat and gets chucked into a well. And at the bottom, his resentment festers. Not only towards his whole diocese but also directed at Ninmah. Because if she did truly love him, why did she not rescue him? (In truth, she would've also been doubly punished, let's be real.)

Assuming they're both alive, I'm entirely convinced that they haven't spoken to each other in over a decade. Enki's probably got a LOT of indignation for his old order and, by extension, Ninmah. And Ninmah acknowledges that he's moved on. Maybe it's best they never see each other.

No wonder Enki is such a big hater. He was one of the few people born into this world with someone and yet he still ended up abandoned and alone. :,)

anywayzz that was very rambly and very sad. but did you know bc enki is green and ninmah’s red this means theyre mario and luigi coded

[natjennie]

my favorite part of tlou so far has to be ellie's viciousness. her rage. her fury. a 14 year old girl with no one. with no future. with no prospects. except for the fact that the universe randomly decided to spare her instead of millions of others. the grief of that. the indignation of that. when you're born and raised and trained to kill infected that were once, are still ostensibly, people. to kill fireflies, who are wholly people. who are your best friend. your first love. when you expect to die again and again and have to live. are punished with living. "no one who's infected fights this hard to stay alive." she's stark raving bullshit mad from the beginning. fighting against her chains. count to ten slowly and clearly. flinging herself at joel with her knife raised at the slightest provocation. stab the guard in the neck before he can raise alarm. slice the cheek of an infected to watch the strands of fungus open the wound. shoot a boy not much older than you before you have to watch someone else you care about die. carve your own palm open because your blood is medicine. scream and destroy the room with a bat at the injustice. rip apart a kitchen for a cure. raise your rifle high and scowl down the barrel before they can reach for theirs. bite and claw and kick and break his finger and give them a cleaver to the neck, the face. burn the building down. refuse to let this be the best it gets. fight and rip and scream and howl at the audacity of the universe to fuck you like this. put your head down and keep walking because fuck no is this not gonna be how it ends.

[estellan0vella]

Scary Puppy Privileges Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

You walk into the mall with Sukuna and Yuji, feeling the usual stares from having your intimidatingly handsome boyfriend and his adorable little brother by your side. Sukuna, with his impressive muscles, his plethora of tattoos, and that smirk, always turns heads. 

Yuji, skipping along happily while holding your other hand, adds to the charm of your little group. His innocent excitement contrasts sharply with Sukuna's intense presence, giving you the best of both worlds: scary dog privileges with your boyfriend and golden retriever puppy privileges with his little brother.

Today is no different. As you make your way through the bustling mall, you notice the way people part to let Sukuna through. His aura demands respect and a hint of fear, but you know better. You see the softer side he shows only to you and Yuji, the playful grin that spreads across his face when Yuji does something adorable, and the tender way he looks at you when he thinks you're not watching.

Yuji tugs at your hand, his wide eyes sparkling with excitement. "Y/N/N, can we get ice cream? Please?"

You glance up at Sukuna, who gives a mock sigh of exasperation before nodding. "Yeah, yeah, let's get some ice cream. But only because Yuji asked so nicely."

Yuji cheers, and you laugh, squeezing Sukuna's hand. "You're such a softie, Kuna."

He rolls his eyes but there's a fondness there that he doesn't bother hiding. "Only for you two," he mutters, leading the way to the ice cream stand.

As you wait in line, you feel someone approach from behind. Turning slightly, you see a man with an overly confident grin sidling up to you. He clearly doesn't notice Sukuna standing next to you or doesn't care. You doubt the former as your boyfriend is impossible to miss so you assume it's the latter which makes you question his intelligence.

"Hey there, beautiful," the man says, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes you uncomfortable. "How about you ditch the kid and come get a drink with me?"

Before you can respond, Yuji lets out a loud, indignant huff. "She's with Suku!" he declares, puffing out his chest. "And me!"

The man barely spares Yuji a glance, his attention still focused on you. "Come on, sweetheart, what's a guy like him got that I don't?"

You open your mouth to tell him off, but Sukuna beats you to it. He steps forward, looming over the man, and crosses his arms. "For starters, I can break every bone in your body without breaking a sweat," he says casually, his tone light but his eyes promising pain.

The man pales but tries to muster some bravado. "Hey, man, I was just trying to—"

"Trying to hit on my girlfriend while I'm standing right here?" Sukuna interrupts, his smile turning dangerous. "Bad move."

Just then, Yuji, who has been glaring at the man, decides to take matters into his own hands. With a growl that's more cute than intimidating, he lunges forward and bites the man's leg. Hard.

The man yelps and jumps back, shaking his leg to dislodge Yuji. "Ow! What the hell?"

You can't help it. You burst out laughing, the sight of little Yuji attacking a grown man too funny to resist. Sukuna joins in, his laughter a deep rumble that makes the man's eyes widen with fear.

"Good boy, Yuji," Sukuna says between laughs, ruffling his brother's hair as he looks at you. "Looks like you've got the scary puppy privileges too, huh?"

Yuji beams up at him, proud of his efforts. "Did I do good, Suku?"

"Very good," Sukuna assures him, glancing at you with a grin. "See, baby? Even Yuji knows how to handle idiots."

The man, thoroughly embarrassed and clearly regretting his life choices, mutters an apology and hurries away, limping slightly from Yuji's bite.

You shake your head, still chuckling. "That was amazing. Thanks, Yuji."

Yuji smiles up at you, his expression bright. "You're welcome, Y/N/N. No one's gonna bother you when Suku and I are around!"

Sukuna wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "Damn right," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Now, let's get that ice cream."

As you finally reach the counter and place your orders, Sukuna allows Yuji to go overboard and get whatever he wants as a reward for being 'feral' as Sukuna puts it.

You find a table and sit down, enjoying the cool treat as Yuji chatters away about his favourite ice cream flavours and Sukuna watches you with a soft, contented expression. It's hard to believe that the man who can make grown men quiver in fear is the same one who looks at you like you're his entire world.

"So," Sukuna says after a while, his tone teasing, "you think you can handle being with the two scariest guys in the mall?"

You laugh, nodding. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Yuji grins, his face smeared with chocolate ice cream. "Yeah! We're the best team ever!"

Sukuna chuckles, reaching out to wipe a smudge off Yuji's cheek. "That we are, kid. That we are."

Back at home, you tuck Yuji into bed, his sleepy eyes fluttering shut as you read him his favourite story. Sukuna stands in the doorway, watching with a soft expression. Once Yuji is asleep, you join Sukuna in the living room.

You curl up on the couch together, his arm around your shoulders as you talk about the day. "Today was... interesting," you say with a laugh.

Sukuna smirks. "Yeah, didn't expect the little guy to go all attack dog on that guy."

"He's got your protective streak," you tease, poking Sukuna's side.

"Guess so," he admits, pulling you closer. "Now, how about we watch a movie and relax? You've had enough excitement for one day."

You agree, settling into his embrace as he picks a movie. The rest of the night is spent in comfortable silence, the warmth of his body against yours a constant reminder of the love and protection he offers.

As you drift off to sleep in Sukuna's arms, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you'll face them together. Because with Sukuna and Yuji by your side, you're unstoppable. And that's all you'll ever need.

[tsukimefuku]

kintsugi :: higuruma hiromi

Higuruma, former lawyer, curse user, and reformed jujutsu sorcerer tries to make sense of what his life has become after the war is finally over.

content warning: spoilers for jjk 269. hinted kusahigu. mostly fluff and introspection, some hurt and comfort if you squint.

wc: 1.8k

notes etc.: written to the sound of “here I dreamt I was an architect” by the decemberists. Inspired by this stunning higuruma fanart by @valleyofwater.

The sun hung high, and fully illuminated the classroom with the golden spring warmth. The blue sky surrounding it would be pristine, if not for a few stray clouds that on occasion cast its shadows over Jujutsu High, only adding to the idyllic, leisurely ambiance. 

“I didn’t understand that very well,” Yuji admitted as he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, earning him the indignant grunts from Megumi and Nobara.

“What do you mean? Higuruma-san explains things much better than Gojo sensei ever did and you learned from him, of all people!” Nobara complained, leaning over her classmate’s chair and smacking the back of Yuji’s head with her fist. She then proceeded to adjust her eye patch and sink into her chair with her arms crossed over her chest.

“His explanation was, indeed, very clear,” Megumi chimed in as Yuji attempted to soothe his pain by brushing his fingers over a growing bulge on his scalp. 

Higuruma, unaccustomed to juggling three teenagers, solely watched the unfolding scene in utter helplessness. With a sigh, he reclined back against the black board while looking at Itadori.

“What exactly did you fail to understand?” 

Yuji cleared his throat for a second, knowing full well his answer would earn him another round of getting kicked around like a poor puppy.

“Everything,” he whispered, lowering his gaze towards the floor before Nobara’s protests in disbelief reverberated like a roar throughout the vicinity.

With a sigh of resignation, Higuruma relaxed his shoulders while checking his wrist watch.

“You do better with practical lessons, Itadori,” the reformed jujutsu sorcerer remarked.

“I do!” Yuji confirmed, starting to pull a contented smile on his face.

“That wasn’t a question.” 

“Oh.”

That smile left as quick as it came.

Megumi covered his face with his palm, and wondered for a second when the elation for being back to normal life gave place to the mundane, every-day annoyance of dealing with Itadori and Kugisaki’s shenanigans.

“Let’s wrap this up for the day, and tomorrow we can have a practical lesson at the Dojo,” Higuruma concluded, crossing his arms.

After some fumbling around, the three students finished packing their things. Nobara and Megumi stepped outside, as she tried to place a bet on who would get to the vending machines first. Megumi’s grumpy demeanor did little to hide the fact that he had, even if begrudgingly, taken her up on her challenge.

Yuji remained on his chair, though, still ruminating on his hardship to learn about the inner workings of the cursed energy world as quickly as his classmates.

Higuruma looked at the boy, and remained silent for a short while before asking him what was the matter.

“It’s just… I don’t know, after everything that happened, I thought I could learn these things faster now, you know?”

Softly brushing his hand around his jaw, Higuruma pondered for a moment.

“Each person has a different learning process. I learned jujutsu by reverse engineering my own cursed technique and figuring out how it worked. Most learn about cursed energy and then go onto training their own CTs all the way up to domain expansion. It’s fine. With only three students, we can tailor classes for each and every one of you.”

His words seemed to soothe Yuji, who looked at Higuruma and spared him a relieved smile.

“I guess you’re right,” Yuji conceded, pondering for a few moments before proceeding, “you remind me of someone.”

“I do?”

“Yes,” Yuji replied, getting up and walking towards the door. For a second, Higuruma’s suited up, responsible demeanor brought him flashbacks of a much lighter colored suit, a blonde, side parted hair and a pair of green shades. “He was a very serious person, and kind, just like yourself.”

Higuruma’s mouth fell slightly open, but no words came out before Yuji waved at him, bidding his teacher goodbye before sprinting towards Nobara and Megumi.

I am so out of my element. Why did I agree to come here, of all places? Higuruma asked himself while sinking down on his desk’s chair. 

“Rough class?” 

The familiar, low baritone voice came accompanied by a few footsteps inside the classroom. Hiromi lifted his gaze to see the signature brownish-beige trench coat, along with the man who wore it.

“Good afternoon, Kusakabe,” Hiromi offered, nudging himself over his seat while motioning to get up. Kusakabe signaled for him to keep seated with one of his hands, before leaning himself on the desk’s side with his hands in his pockets and a lollipop shoved into his mouth.

“Rough life,” Higuruma replied, half in jest. Truth was, those past few months — nearly half a year after the fight at Shinjuku against Sukuna — felt like some sort of uncomfortable fever dream to Higuruma.

He was offered the opportunity to atone for his crimes as a teacher at Jujutsu High, and he seized said opportunity. However, the former lawyer caught himself struggling to fall asleep most nights while pondering. He didn’t know, unfortunately, what had made his soul so uneasy.

“At least we are not shacked up like sardines inside a makeshift bunker while fighting for our lives against a genocidal maniac,” Kusakabe promptly replied, earning him a nod from Higuruma.

”I guess you’re right. How has life as the new NSS headmaster been?”

“Almost pushing me back into smoking. Sometimes, I wish these lollipops were made out of pure nicotine.”

At that, Higuruma spared a quick, discreet smile.

“That bad?”

“Don’t even get me started on it,” Kusakabe grunted, glancing over towards the windows. “It’s a beautiful day, huh?”

Higuruma looked down at his hands, which sat together over the desk. After Kusakabe was done admiring the view, he turned his eyes to Higuruma, noticing the man sinking further into himself.

”Higuruma, how have you been? Is everything alright?” 

“I…” Higuruma let his voice drag, uncertain just as his feelings had been about everything that had happened ever since that fateful day in Keita’s trial, “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” Kusakabe inquired, confused.

“I thought I was supposed to die back at Shinjuku. I believed that I would fulfill my duty, and… I don’t know, achieve some sort of spiritual absolution if I died while playing my role in the battle against Sukuna. But I just lived. It doesn’t make sense, it’s not adding up to me.” 

Kusakabe quickly realized this was the first time Higuruma was effectively putting these feelings into words, and conceded him the moments’ reprieve necessary for the man to collect his thoughts.

“Everything I’ve learned since gaining my CT was how to fight a war.” 

Higuruma sighed, and upon further contemplation, realized that what he said wasn’t the entire truth.  

“Actually, ever since I was a lawyer, all I ever did was fight a war, be it symbolically or literally. No one told me how to live my life after it was over, in peaceful times. I don’t think I quite know how to do that.”

“No one does,” Kusakabe quickly interjected.

“What?” Higuruma asked, his voice slightly surprised.

“No one knows how to live life. We’re just… living it, and doing what’s needed to get by. Clinging to what might give it some meaning from time to time.” 

Higuruma looked down, and let his colleague’s words sink in slowly. For all this time, he’d felt like a movie that overstayed its welcome, dragging along its plot for much longer that it should have. Upon experiencing the warmth of the sun coming through the wide set windows caressing his skin, however, Higuruma thought it didn’t seem so bad, after all.

“Everything I had ever believed in was broken, and I guess I was, too. My life,” Higuruma remarked, “and I’m finding it hard to piece things back together. I don’t know if that’s possible.” 

“I suppose you’ve heard of kintsugi,” Kusakabe said while pulling another lollipop from his pocket and replacing the already finished candy with a new one.

Higuruma was taken aback by the sudden shift in the conversation.

“The practice of fixing broken ceramic pieces with gold? Yes, I’m familiar.”

“Your life is the broken ceramic.”

… What?

Kusakabe had no ease for metaphors, and it showed in Higuruma's completely puzzled expression.

With a grunt, the seasoned sorcerer pulled the lollipop from his mouth and began gesturing around, as if trying to pull the words to have himself make sense out of thin air.

“What I mean to say is… broken things can be fixed, and sometimes the way they’re fixed can make them more valuable than they were before. Or something like that.”

Higuruma’s confusion subsided for the most part, but he remained silent to see if Kusakabe would offer some final commentary.

He did. 

“There is value in the healed cracks. That’s all. Perhaps this second chance you’ve been given is an opportunity to do just that. Heal those cracks with something valuable, I mean.”

Higuruma’s eyes traveled gently over the classroom in front of him, and he finally gazed out the window while actually paying attention to it for the first time in a long while. He saw the golden rays of sunshine projecting a soft, welcoming light over the students’ desks, noticed how clear the sky truly was, and the cloud-scattered blue that encompassed it all together as a visual symphony.

“It really is a beautiful day, after all,” Higuruma remarked, looking back at Kusakabe with a smile.

Kusakabe’s eyes met Hiromi’s, and this was probably the first time he had actually seen the man smiling with actual joy.

In a second, Kusakabe coughed, feeling his face warming up, and averted his gaze while covering his mouth with his fist.

“Is everything alright?” Higuruma asked, gently tilting his head to the side. “Did you choke on your lollipop?”

“No. It’s okay, I’m fine,” the other man answered, mentally pulling himself back to normal. “I just really have to go back to work.”

“Oh. Okay. I should probably leave this classroom too and get something to eat.” 

Kusakabe nodded and propped himself up, walking towards the door. However, he stopped as he was nearly past it, and turned around.

“Higuruma.”

The former lawyer had just gotten up himself, and turned to face his colleague.

“What?”

“Me and some other people from jujutsu high — assistants, mostly — will have a happy hour this Friday. Would you like to join us?”

The question caught Hiromi completely off guard, and he faltered for a few seconds before clearing his throat and answering, “yes. I appreciate the invite.”

Kusakabe nodded once more. “Okay. See you this Friday, then.”

As he watched Kusakabe leaving, Higuruma could feel the liquid gold slowly seeping into the cracks of his broken life, gluing things back in place.

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[mikavlcs]

Heaven Sent

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!winged!reader

Summary: While sharing a bed, Wednesday finds a new use for your wings.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday(!!!), it’s cute tho i promise

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: this is an adorable request from an anon, hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Wednesday was not having a particularly good night.

She had spent the entire evening venturing around campus for a new mystery to solve. Hours upon hours were spent searching for something, anything to entertain her and satiate her hunger for a fresh case to sink her teeth into.

But she had failed. Miserably. By the end of her hunt, she felt like she was suffocating in the air of utter boredom that settled comfortably around Nevermore after the Hyde had been detained and Crackstone defeated.

The only saving grace for her dreadful night was the fact that you had invited her to sleep in your dorm. It was something you began doing more often and she could never bring herself to say no. 

Not because she enjoyed it, but because she didn’t want to have to deal with your pouting if she refused.

That was how she ended up outside your door at nearly midnight.

She quickly looked around. With no roaming teachers in sight, she took the chance to speak.

“Thing?”

Her disembodied companion came crawling out of her bag and up to her shoulder. She glanced back at him.

“I will be sleeping here tonight. You go back to my dorm. You know how to bypass the lock, just try not to give Enid a heart attack this time.”

She turned back to face your door, but Thing didn’t move. Confused, she faced him again. “What?”

The hand responded with a series of taps that made Wednesday glare at him.

“You can see her tomorrow. She invited me here, not you.”

Thing didn’t budge, looking as indignant as a sentient limb possibly could. Wednesday clenched her jaw.

“If you go back, I will let you sleep on my bed,” she gritted out. Thing perked up at the proposal. “But I will rescind the offer entirely if you do not move.”

That seemed to be enough to get him going. Thing gave her a soft tap, a gentle “good night” that she couldn’t help but return as he made his way off her arm and onto the floor. He quickly scampered off toward her dorm, clearly excited to have the entire bed to himself. Wednesday rolled her eyes and reached for your door, sighing when it opened with a quick twist.

You liked leaving the door unlocked for her, even though she told you that there was no need. After all, she could pick locks as simple as these in her sleep. But you insisted. She found it equally as endearing as she did utterly stupid, though she’d never admit it.

Stepping inside, she saw your sprawled form on your bed and paused, silently shutting the door behind her. 

You were laid on your stomach in the middle of your bed, one arm hugging your pillow while the other rested under you. Your wings rested peacefully beside you, unevenly splayed across the blankets. Her eyes caught on the way they twitched every now and then, likely in response to whatever you were dreaming about.

She granted herself a moment to simply observe you in your rest. 

During the day, you kept your wings in your harness. You said it was because they were too big and you didn’t want to unknowingly whack someone with them in the halls, but she knew there were underlying reasons as well.

Though they were easily the most magnificent things she had ever laid her eyes on, you were insecure about your wings. You had yet to tell her why and she resolved not to push you, but that made moments like this—when you allowed yourself to be fully exposed, truly yourself—all the more special to her. 

It showed how much you trusted her. And she would be remiss to say that it wasn’t just the slightest bit touching.

Hesitantly, she tore her eyes away from you and focused on what she came here for. She took her boots off and set them on the floor beside yours, dropping her bag there as well, then silently made her way to your dresser, where you kept her spare set of pajamas. 

After she changed, she walked over to your bed. Your wings fluttered lightly at her quiet approach, but you showed no signs of waking.

She stared down at you briefly before lightly shaking you.

No response.

She tried again, harder this time. You only hugged your pillow tighter.

An idea came to mind. One that you wouldn’t like, but she certainly would. 

With a spark of joy in her chest, she leaned down and shoved you off the bed. You crashed to the floor with a loud thud and a pained groan much to her amused satisfaction.

Your head shot up to look at her, affronted. Your wings flared up behind you in a way that was more cute than it was menacing.

“Wednesday! What was that for?!”

“You wouldn’t move,” she shrugged.

“You could’ve just woken me up like a normal person,” you grumbled as you stood and dusted yourself off.

“Well, you don’t wake up like a normal person. So I did what I knew would work.”

The smirk she had been trying to hide was on full display now. She sat down on her side of the bed and gave you an expectant look. You maintained your half-hearted glare for a minute then gave up. 

Your eyes and wings drooped simultaneously under the weight of your exhaustion and Wednesday couldn’t help but be disgusted by how effortlessly adorable you could be.

Oblivious to the effect you had on Wednesday, you flopped down onto the left side of the bed, which you had deemed yours the first time you shared it with her. 

The smaller girl watched as you curled tightly into yourself, ensuring Wednesday her personal space through the night. Her cold heart thawed some at how seriously you took her comfort.

(A small, weak part of herself wished you would disregard it just once and hold her, even if it was just her hand. A negative side effect of being around Pugsley for so much of her life, she estimated.)

“Good night, Wends,” your words slurred slightly, already falling back into your slumber. Wednesday huffed in amusement as she turned your lamp off. She settled down and got comfortable, arms crossing over her chest. 

Not daring to say anything to you directly, she only replied long after you slipped back into your dreams, voice so quiet it could hardly be considered a whisper.

“Good night, cara mia.”

Just as she began to succumb to the cold embrace of sleep, she felt something large and…oddly feathery rest itself on top of her.

Curious, she opened her eyes, and there on her chest lay one of your wings. It covered the upper half of her completely, acting almost as a blanket. 

Her eyes flitted to your sleeping form, scrutinizing you. You were definitely asleep, so you must have covered her subconsciously.

Momentarily, she considered pushing it off, but she dismissed the thought as soon as it came.

Even though she wasn’t a big fan of physical affection, the soft heat and light pressure of your wing on top of her was…not entirely unpleasant. So she decided that she would indulge you, even if you were unconscious. Just this once.

She adjusted her position slightly, huffing at the way your wing twitched in response, and close her eyes once more.

Encompassed in your warmth, Wednesday drifted off into a blissfully dreamless sleep with the smallest of smiles on her face.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Heyyy are you requests open?? I have 2 requests for 2 different characters! Recently I just discovered the Ron Weasley Lore and I’m just like why was I sleeping on Ron!!! But could you write something about Ron. Maybe like sorta like glimpse of their relationship throughout the HP years and an aftermath. Ik it’s super long but I love your writing!!!

I’ll send the send one separately cause this one is too long now 😂

ron weasley x reader with your relationship throughout the years

First Year

You and Hermione hit it off immediately – you’re both brilliant, maybe a bit too good at charms and way too nosey. The two of you become an inseparable duo, and Ron? Well, he’s not impressed. He rolls his eyes every time you and Hermione get into a lively debate or excitedly huddle up to compare notes.

“Do you ever stop talking?” he huffs after one particularly long conversation about broomstick history. You give him your best glare, and he just smirks, calling you a “walking library.”

Yeah, he’s not on your favorite people list either.

Second Year

Somehow, Ron’s teasing just gets worse. He sits next to you in Potions and constantly pokes at your side, whispering, “Did you know you snore when you sleep?”

“I do not!” you protest, swatting his hand away.

“Sure, sure,” he grins, leaning back smugly. “Better ask Hermione if you’re not convinced. Or maybe everyone in Gryffindor – they probably heard you all the way up in the boys’ dormitory.”

He even pulls your pigtail one day during Herbology, making you squeal in indignation. He laughs, but you notice Hermione is side-eyeing the whole scene, trying (and failing) to hide a smirk.

Third Year

It's the start of term, and you notice something. Ron’s grown taller, his hair’s more auburn than red in the sunlight, and when he laughs – it’s oddly... nice?

You shake the thought out of your head and give him a harsh glare for no reason as you slam your bag down beside him at breakfast. He jumps and gives you a wide-eyed look.

“What did I do?” he mutters, genuinely looking confused as you stomp off in a huff.

Hermione raises her eyebrows at you later. “Are you sure you don’t have a thing for him?” she teases, barely able to keep her laughter down.

“Absolutely not!” you protest, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Fourth Year

The Yule Ball is coming, and Ron’s been annoying you even more than usual – something about him asking Padma sends you into an unexpected spiral of jealousy. And then, to top it all off, you overhear him fuming about someone dancing with Viktor Krum, and it all clicks in the worst way.

“Oh, of course he likes Hermione,” you mutter to yourself, feeling your chest ache as you walk away before he can say anything else.

The next day, Ron finds you red-eyed, sitting by the lake. He and Harry ask if you’re okay, and in a burst of frustration, you shout, “You two are absolutely clueless!” before storming off.

Ron scratches his head, looking at Harry in complete bafflement. “What did I do?”

Fifth Year

By now, you’ve decided the best way to deal with Ron is to just... not deal with him at all. You start spending more time with Luna, who offers you the peace and acceptance you need. Ron, however, notices the shift.

“Since when are you and Loony Lovegood so close?” he mutters one day, his tone more annoyed than curious.

“Since I found out she’s a better friend than you,” you snap back, not even sparing him a glance.

Harry raises his eyebrows at Ron, while Hermione sighs, clearly fed up with the tension between you two.

“Honestly, Ron, are you ever going to sort this out?” Hermione whispers later. But Ron just shrugs, as though he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to sort out.

Sixth Year

This year, you make a brave decision: move on from Ron. And Draco, of all people, catches your eye. The two of you start dating casually – it’s friendly, flirty, and you like his mischievous sense of humor. But when Ron catches wind of it, he’s absolutely fuming.

“You’re dating Malfoy?” he demands, storming up to you one day in the library.

“Oh, now you care who I’m with?” you retort, rolling your eyes.

Draco smirks, stepping beside you with a cool, “Problem, Weasley?”

You and Draco part ways amicably by the end of the year, but Hermione nearly loses her patience with Ron’s grumbling. “For Merlin’s sake, Ron! She’s single now,” she all but yells at him. “Stop sulking and do something about it.”

Seventh Year

Finally, it’s here – the year everything changes. Between the chaos of the war and the danger lurking around every corner, Ron finally realizes his feelings. He catches himself watching you more than usual, every smile and laugh searing into his mind.

One night, he pulls you aside, eyes downcast. “I... I’ve been a git,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper.

“What was that?” you tease, crossing your arms.

Ron’s cheeks turn red, but he continues, “I’m trying to say... I’m sorry. For everything.” His voice softens, vulnerability flickering in his gaze. “And... I’ve missed you. Really.”

You bite your lip, the old pain and confusion melting away. “Well, it took you long enough to realize that,” you whisper, offering him a small smile.

Ron lets out a shaky laugh, then reaches for your hand. “Can I... would you... go to Hogsmeade with me? Maybe?”

“Maybe,” you reply, and with a teasing grin, “If you buy me a Butterbeer.”

He grins back, squeezing your hand tightly. And as you walk back to the castle, Harry shoots you both a knowing, smug look, while Hermione just shakes her head, finally relieved.

Aftermath

“Dad, you were so clueless!” your daughter exclaims, eyes wide as she stares between you and Ron.

Ron lets out a bark of laughter, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Oi! I was not clueless!” He glances at you, chuckling. “Right, love? I mean, you were just as lost!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Because I distinctly remember somebody storming up to me in the library, fuming about Draco Malfoy.”

Ron’s cheeks turn a shade of red as he leans back, giving a sheepish grin. “I was just looking out for you. Malfoy had an… attitude.”

Your daughter’s giggles fill the room. “Dad, I think you just didn’t want Mum dating anyone else!”

“Okay, maybe there was a bit of that,” he admits, winking at you. “But your mum wasn’t exactly clear either. I mean, there were days she’d stomp off before I’d even said ‘hello!’”

“Oh, that’s true,” you say, giving a playful sigh. “All because of a certain Gryffindor boy with no clue how to express his feelings.”

“Hey!” he protests, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I was just busy fighting off trolls, acromantulas, and basilisks, you know? Didn’t exactly leave time for romance.”

Your daughter grins, eyes twinkling. “And then what, Mum? When did you finally realize Dad was totally in love with you?”

You exchange a knowing smile with Ron, your hands automatically finding each other. “Seventh year,” you reply softly. “After everything we'd been through, he finally told me how he felt.”

Ron squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your fingers. “And she finally stopped running off every time I came near her,” he teases, looking down at your daughter. “And then, we just… never let go.”

Your daughter beams, resting her chin on her hands. “You guys are so cute.”

Ron laughs, giving her a light nudge. “Oi, enough with the ‘cute!’ Now, do you want to hear about the time your mum hexed me because she thought I called her a know-it-all?”

“Oh, yes!” she cries, practically bouncing. “Tell me everything!”

And with that, you and Ron launch into another one of your Hogwarts stories, the laughter of your little family echoing warmly through the room.

first time writing for ron and i loved it!!

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xxvi

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: In the aftermath of everything, back to Woodsboro YN and Tara go.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of violence.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this is a bit of a nothing chapter, apologies in advance. This is also the penultimate chapter, part of why I've been procrastinating so long. but alas, all good things must come to an end ;'))

The trip back to Woodsboro hospital is smoother than anticipated. 

The morphine does wonders for your pain, but not so much for your coherence. By the time you’re rolled out into the ambulance, you’ve told Tara how pretty she is at least six times and declared Sam ‘best sister-in-law in the world’ at least three. 

Thankfully, Nurse Rosario is nowhere to be found. 

Although Tara had mellowed slightly after your last talk, you’re not keen for a repeat. After she’d plied you with enough morphine to take down a horse, she’d disappeared. Perhaps heeding the warning of Tara’s stormy glare. 

Tara rides in the ambulance with you, her hand pressed in yours. Sam sits beside you (Dewey had re-romandeered the car they’d stolen with a sigh and a forgiving smile). 

By the time you’re rolled into Woodsboro hospital, it’s near noon. Your Dad’s insurance has paid for a private room for him, your Mom and you and so you tilt your neck eagerly as you’re rolled onto the floor, searching each face for the familiarity of your parents. 

“Your parents are here,” Says one of the EMTs, noticing the way your head tilts around madly, “Your Mom is getting a scan done, your Dad is with her. They’re both okay. They’ll be here soon.” 

“Thanks,” You say, though it doesn’t sate your anxiety. That won’t be gone until they’re both here with you.

The floor is awash with busy doctors and nurses. 

Most don’t give you a second look. 

Except for one. 

Nurse Dawson is standing near one of the nurses stations when you’re rolled into your room. 

You see her first, though Tara doesn’t notice her. 

And when Nurse Dawson turns and sees your girlfriend, her face falls. 

Only for a moment. Her face conflicts, but the professionalism wins out. 

She straightens her shoulders. 

And you can tell by the look on her face she’s the one assigned to you. 

Tara smiles at you as the EMTs settle you into your new bed. Oblivious to the carnage she causes. 

It’s like some sort of reverse superpower. 

The ability to somehow irritate every medical professional assigned to her. 

You sigh and lean back into your pillows as the nurse approaches. 

“YN. Ms Carpenter,” She says politely enough, “Nice to see you again.” 

Tara looks over impatient. You can tell by the lack of recognition in her face she doesn’t recognise the nurse. Instead, she looks over to Sam. 

“Sure,” Says Tara, nonplussed, “I’m going to need another bed in here for my sister. She spent last night on a couple of plastic chairs.”

You look around the room. 

There’s two empty beds - presumably for your mother and father. It’s cramped in here, more so than usual with your family reunion. You can tell before the Nurse speaks Tara isn’t going to like her answer. 

“We don’t have beds to spare for visitors, Tara,” Nurse Dawson says pointedly, “Perhaps you and your sister could come back in the morning.” 

Tara stares a moment. 

Then her eyes narrow. 

You tug gently at her hand trying to draw her attention. 

“Babe,” You touch her arm gently, “Maybe it’s not a terrible idea. You and Sam could both go home and get some rest.”

“Absolutely not,” Tara says, voice indignant, “I’m not leaving you alone, baby.”

“Mom and Dad will be here with me,” You assure, but Tara’s turned her glare towards you, “Seriously babe. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Says Tara, voice final. She shoots a look over to Nurse Dawson, “I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to.” 

-

Your Mom is wheeled back in first. 

You sit up in your bed so abruptly you almost knock Tara to the floor. 

Your Mom is misty-eyed, gaze a little unfocused, undoubtedly strung out on pain medication. Her eyes well when she sees you, hand twitching as she sits a little taller in her seat. 

“Mom,” You croak, “Mom, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, darling,” She says. The nurse wheels her into the slot beside you and she reaches for your hand, “Are you okay?” 

Sam wanders off to leave you to your reunion, but Tara stays nestled into your side. Your Mom’s leg is gone, and you can’t help the flood of tears that burst through each time your gaze wanders down. 

“It’s alright, YN,” Your Mom assures, “I’m alive. Dad’s alive. You’re alive. That’s all that matters.” 

Your Dad follows in, shortly after. 

He’s in a wheelchair, looking so frail with dark circles under his eyes and milky, pale skin. He squeezes your hand and leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

And then he surveys Tara. 

She’s sitting up now, your hand still pressed firmly in hers. He watches quietly for a moment. You almost think he’s about to ask her to leave when he reaches out, and outstretches his hand. 

Tara blinks in surprise. 

Your eyebrows furrow. 

Your Dad looks serious. The kind of seriousness usually accompanied by a raise in tone or the promise of his shotgun. But there’s none of that now.  

Hesitantly, Tara takes his hand. 

“Thank you,” He says, as she clasps her hand in his. He shakes it firmly, “Thank you for saving my daughter.”

Tara doesn’t say anything. 

You look at your Dad. His voice is earnest, his brows pinched.

He looks open.

Like he’s about to cry. 

“Dad,” You say, voice soft.

He squeezes Tara’s hand once, then lets her go. Slowly, he wheels towards you, eyes misty. 

“You,” He says as he pulls you into a hug, “Are never leaving my side again.” 

He pulls back slightly and thinks. 

“Or hers.” 

-

When the dust settles and your Dad has got the last of his dewey, sappy words out, the room moves back into normality. 

Normality now, it seems, is absurdity. 

Tara and your Dad are watching a ball game together. You survey them, eyebrow raised, sharing a look of bewilderment with Sam as she walks back into the room. 

“Hey,” Says Sam, tray of donuts in hand. Tara and your Dad don’t look up from the TV, “What are we watching?” 

“Giants,” Says Tara. She lounges back into your hospital bed, nestling her head on your shoulder, “Flores is killing it.” 

“About damn time,” Grumbles your Dad, “He spent the last game striking out.” 

“Speaking of striking out,” You say, eyebrow raised at Sam, “Did you speak to Nurse Dawson about a spare bed?” 

Sam shakes her head. 

“It’s fine,” She says, “I’d rather sleep in my own bed anyway. Besides,” 

She eyes your Mom and Dad.

“It seems like a family affair in here anyway. You’re sure you don’t want to come with me, Tara? The nurse seemed pretty insistent that no more beds would fit.” 

“I’m sure.” Tara says, voice flat. She curls a protective arm around your waist. 

You flash Sam a small smile, “It’s fine, Sam. She can sleep with me. She’s little, she fits.” 

Sam purses her lips. 

Tara glares up at you. 

“I am not little.” She says, frowning. 

You press a kiss to her lips. 

“Okay, then big guy, better go home with Sam.” You tease. 

She pouts. Nudges her face into your neck. 

“I fit,” She tells Sam, and then turns her attention back to the ball game. 

Sam makes her departure, shortly thereafter. Your Dad falls asleep midway through the game, your Mom is wheeled off for an MRI at just the moment Tara’s friends make an appearance. 

Liv’s bought flowers, Chad and Mindy follow in with wide eyes. They hug you, settle down into the seats by your bed, careful not to wake your snoring Father. 

“Hey,” Mindy says, “How are you feeling?” 

“She’s okay,” Says Tara, smoothing your hair back, “Now the morphines kicked in, right baby?” 

“Right,” You echo, sitting up slightly. 

Liv smiles. 

“These are for you,” She says, “Tara said they were your favorite.” 

“Thanks Liv,” You say with a smile. 

Mindy settles on the chair to your left, Chad and Liv hover near the end of your bed. 

Mindy leans over to you, a little wide eyed. 

“The Sheriff,” She says, chewing her lip, “Damn it. I should have guessed.” 

“I just don’t understand,” Says Liv, eyebrows pinched, “Why would she kill her own son?” 

Tara shifts, uncomfortably. Mindy rolls her eyes. 

“She didn’t kill her own son, dumbass,” Says Mindy, “Isn’t it obvious?” 

You swallow. 

“There’s no body” Mindy says, leaning forward in her seat, a little excited, “When Ghostface kills, there’s always a body.” 

Liv blinks back at her. 

“What if…” Mindy says, eyes squinted like she’s thinking hard, “What if Wes isn’t dead at all. What if that’s just what he wanted us all to think? What if there’s a third Ghostface, and it’s him?”

Your heart hammers. 

A wave of nausea rises at the theory, but before you can voice your displeasure, Chad beats you too it. 

“Give it up, Nancy Drew,” He says, shaking his head, “You haven’t been right a single time. All those powerpoints for nothing. I think it’s time to pack it in.” 

Mindy pouts, slumping back in her seat.

“I could have been right,” She says, but Chad raises a hand. 

“But you weren’t. Jesus. Leave it alone.” 

He pats your hand, not unkindly, “The important thing is Ghostface is gone and YN and Tara are okay.” 

“Thanks Chad,” You say. 

He leans back in his seat, eyebrows pinched. 

“I just don’t get why she did it at all,” Says Chad, tilting his head in a frown, “Same with Richie. Why? It all seems so pointless.” 

Tara stirs, pressing a comforting kiss to the side of your neck. 

“That’s for the police to figure out,” She says, squeezing your hand, “For now? Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth.” 

-

The days pass by in a blur of morphine, and nausea and the blare of Tara and your Dad’s newfound hobby of watching sports games together. 

Tara sleeps at your side, dotes on you like a baby bird who has fallen from the nest. 

Sam stops by in the afternoons, Nurse Dawson avoids the two of you as best she can, coming into your room wordlessly and appraising Tara with a resentful glare everytime she changes your bandages. 

Dewey returns to take your statement, takes Tara and Sam away for hours to question them, but ultimately, the case is clear cut. 

The Sheriff is Ghostface, Richie her accomplice, and by the seventh day of your hospital stay, Dewey informs you the police are closing the case as solved. 

It would be worrying - the police’s utter lack of comprehension - had it not been in your favor. 

So you nod your head and squeeze Tara’s hand as you accept his apology for the Woodsboro police failing you both. 

“We’ll be suing the police department,” Says your Father curtly, before Dewey can make his exit, “For gross negligence and endangering the life of my daughter.” 

You sigh. 

Tara cocks her head, as if she’s about to list off a variety of law firms she’s learned of through her extensive research before you squeeze her shoulder, and pull her back down to you. 

Your Mother huffs before you can say anything. 

“We’re not suing anybody,” Says your Mom firmly. She offers Dewey the smallest of smiles, “Thank you, Deputy Riley.”

“We should be suing the police,” Tara grumbles later, when she’s helping you into the back of Sam’s car. 

You’d be discharged by a happy Nurse Dawson. Your Mom and Dad would stay a little longer in the hospital while you slept over at Tara’s for a few nights. 

Hospitals give you the creeps, and you didn’t want to spend any more time there than necessary. 

Tara slips your seatbelt around your waist and you pull her in for a brief kiss. 

“What’s all that about not looking a gift horse in the mouth?” You say quietly as Sam slips into the drivers seat and Tara falls quiet. 

Your stomach is still a little sore - you feel it now as Tara and Sam help you up the staircase to her bedroom. 

“Watch it Sam, you neanderthal,” Tara snaps as Sam almost steps on your foot as they're half-carrying you to bed. 

You scold her if you had the strength. Instead, you focus all your energy into trying not to focus on the searing pain in your side as Tara slips you into her sheets. 

“Sorry, YN,” Sam says quietly before Tara shoos her out. 

You’re sweating a little, gone is the morphine. Nurse Dawson had put you on something else - something a little less addictive, and a little more prone to letting the pain in. 

You groan as Tara slides into the spot next to you, soothing your pain with the press of her lips. 

“Does it hurt, baby?” She asks, brown eyes mournful, “Do you want me to get you your pills?” 

You shake your head. 

The pain stings, like a dull ache, but it doesn’t hurt so much you need more. You touch her arm, nestle yourself into her side. 

“Just stay with me and I’ll be fine,” You say, as she curls her arm around your waist. She leans down and places a protective kiss to the top of your head. 

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” She admits, softly. You lean up and she presses the softest kiss to your lips, “Do you want me to see if Chad can get you something stronger?” 

“No babe,” You chide, gently, “I’m fine.” 

Tara thinks. 

“Do you want me to go down on you?” She asks, hopeful, “That might make you feel better.” 

You laugh. 

“Might make me feel better, or you feel better?” You ask. 

“Both,” She says with a pout. 

You lean up to her, press another warm kiss to her lips.

“Just stay with me,” You say, “As long as you’re here I’ll be fine.” 

Tara rubs her hand along the stretch of your back. 

“Okay,” She says, voice soft, “I’ll just stay here with you.”