#so I could take the reigns so to speak

[eboni-napalm]

me, trying as hard as I can to not succumb to the urge to make a Bionicle-themed headcanon/imagine request blog for other self-shippers in the fandom like myself-

[lcpmon]

idk how other ppl learn to read characters but even when someone has very few lines, if they're not a few throwaway lines and have a smidgen of thought put into them, you can really deduct a lot of things from what they say without mountains of dialogue and array of actions they take.

cIaus, even Iucas via his few lines and interactive dialogue, is so easy to understand and learn what hes about from the dialogue you are given. it shouldnt be hard to mess him up

and even tho these are more active characters in the story with goals to achieve and story beats to hit, u rly can apply the same to lngo and 3mmet. u can make assumptions or deduct possible aspects about how they act from breaking down their dialogue and possible routine. some things might be completely speculative and pulled out of thin air but as long as it matches the characters general front its hard to go wrong

[entitled-fangirl]

Meek.

Cregan Stark x Baratheon!reader

Summary: Cregan is determined to be a different man for his betrothed than the men in her family.

Warnings: poor treatment of women, sexism, cursing, talks of sex, making out

A/N: Based on TWO asks!!!! Also--- not proofread😯

Masterlist

....................................................

Everyone knew the absolute torment that house Baratheon put their women through.

They were cruel to them, not caring for anything but their own pleasure. That was well known.

When Cregan was betrothed to Lord Baratheon's second eldest daughter, he wondered how she'd fair under the Northern weather.

Lord Baratheon didn't even bother to see her go, sending her off to the Wolf with just her handmaidens and guards to see her safe to Winterfell.

Cregan stood at the doors, his shoulders back in a display of northern pride. He was beyond grateful to rid the sweet woman from the ungrateful Baratheons.

The moment her horse stepped through the gate, his people were attentive to her, taking her belongings and beginning to carry them into the castle.

She watched them with widened eyes, confused by their kindness. Cregan quickly stepped down the stairs to her, "Welcome, my lady."

Her head snapped to him and looked down at him from her horse. She said nothing in fear of saying the wrong thing.

He reached up and gently pulled the reigns from her hands. The leather slid from her grasp slowly. She dared not to intervene. 

Once he had the reigns in his hand, he pulled on them, walking the horse further into the yard and closer to Winterfell.

She merely let him as she held to the saddle. 

Cregan felt a small smile grow on his face. She was a curious thing. It was too bad she wouldn't voice her thoughts. 

As he looked up at her, he decided then to change that. He would get her to open up one day.

He tied the reigns off and held out his hand to her. "Let me help you." She reminded him of a skittish doe, ready to run at any sign of danger.

Her shaky hand reached out, and she swung her leg over the horse. She stared at him expectantly.

He let go and grabbed her waist, holding her as he slid her down the horse's side and placed her on the ground.

"Thank you, Lord Stark," her soft voice finally spoke.

He swore he'd never heard anything sweeter.

How the Baratheons could bare to mistreat her, he'll never know.

…

He told the North that he was in no way going to rush the marriage. So she stayed in the Winterfell walls unwed so he could understand her more before becoming one.

He felt like he owed her that. 

She deserved to be known. 

She had become a little more comfortable around him, beginning to slowly speak to him about only the things that were essential to say aloud.

The two walked the grounds together, a routine they had developed over time. 

"I wish you'd speak about things that don't matter," he finally mentioned. He peeked over to her to see her reaction.

Her brows furrowed as she stared in front of her, "I don't understand."

"I didn't mean it in that sense I suppose." He reached up with his free to stroke the hair on his chin in thought of what to say. "I want to know the things that you worry I'll find unimportant. Does that make sense?"

She hesitantly shook her head.

He sighed softly at how to correct his words. Finally, he shrugged. "I want to know you."

"You do," she countered quietly. 

"I don't," he smiles as he brushed hair behind her ear, "but I'd like to."

She sucked in a sharp breath at his touch to her face. The men in her family were far from this gentle. "I assure you there is nothing of interest to me."

"There is, I'm sure. I'll find it."

She nodded, "Whatever you wish, my lord." She began to walk again.

He pulled her back, "Not so quickly." He reached down and pulled both of her hands into his. "Don't say what you wish me to hear. Say what you are thinking."

"Why would I do that?" She asked innocently. 

He cursed under his breath but didn't let her see the way his jaw clenched. "It matters to me. Your thoughts, I mean."

She stared at their intertwined hands, "Even the unpleasant ones?"

"Especially the unpleasant ones."

It was a strange concept for her, but she nodded as her brain began to truly consider what he was asking for. 

He smiled in relief, still holding one hand and beginning to walk again. "Let us start with simple matters. Perhaps… your favorite novel?"

Her head snapped to him, "I don't… I…"

His thumb rubbed over her knuckles, "I know you have one. I've seen the way book pages soak you in like water."

The question had been a sensitive one. She shrugged in a fake nonchalant fashion and kept walking, "I don't have one."

He hummed lowly, a small warning. "Don't lie. Just say what it is."

"I… I don't remember the name of it," she finally admitted. 

He accepted that answer. "I see. What was it about?"

Her big eyes looked up at him, debating what to say. "It was… a fiction."

He smiled, "I see. There can be enjoyment in fictional novels, can't there?" He waited to say what else she would say. Each new piece of herself she revealed to him, he treasured like a precious stone.

"Well… it is the only one I've read, I'm afraid," she smiled weakly, eager to change the subject.

"The only?" He asked in pure shock. "The only one?"

She nodded, keeping in a certain side of herself. "It was left behind. Father has it."

"Ah," he said finally. 

…

That evening, he wrote to Lord Baratheon, urging him to send her favorite book. He was straight to the point, telling the man he could send the novel to earn Stark's forgiveness for avoiding the wedding.

…

A few weeks later, a letter arrived addressed to Lord Stark. He almost ripped it out of the maester's hand in concern when he saw the Baratheon sigil in the wax. It was a thick roll, only making his concern spike.

He pulled it open, revealing a few pages that fell from his hand. 

Book pages.

Ripped book pages. 

He picked up one with a shaking hand. He began to see red as he looked back up at the maester. "What is the meaning of this?"

The maester held out his hand, "Allow me to read this for you, my lord."

Cregan handed the letter to him as he began to gather the few book pages that were sent to him.

The maester's face turned white. "He dares to disrespect you."

"Do not tell me these are what I believe them to be," he growled lowly.

"I'm afraid they are."

Cregan's hand slammed the papers onto the desk in pure rage and stormed out of the room.

…

Cregan swung his sword with a fury. His sparring partner could hardly keep up, but he knew his Lord just needed to get out his anger.

His partner was grateful when Cregan's betrothed interrupted them.

"Cregan?"

Cregan faltered, freezing in place and turning his head to her. "Yes?" He asked with a surprisingly soft voice.

She wrung her hands nervously. "I… Forgive me. I shouldn't have interrupted."

He stood up tall, handing his sword off to his partner and waving him off. "No. Please. Tell me what you need."

She hummed and let out a deep breath. "I've been thinking."

He nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Aye…"

"I'm ready to marry you."

He sucked in a sharp breath. "What?"

"I- I want to marry you, Cregan."

He saw the absolute nervousness that radiated through her frame to admit that to him.

He stepped to her, "You're sure?"

She nodded. "If you still want me."

He stepped further to her in urgency, "Of course, I do. Never think that I wouldn't."

She stared at him, now unsure of where to go from there.

Cregan smiled. "Shall I set a date for the wedding then?"

Her eyes lit up. "Would you?"

"I would. And I shall. We shall have it two weeks before Winter strikes. I will leave for the Wall not long after. Would that suffice?"

She looked down at her hands. 

"What?" He tilted his head down, hoping to get her to look at him. "Did you wish for after winter? That could be quite a while."

She had worked herself up just to admit wanting to marry him. How could he expect her to do more?

"Talk to me, pretty girl."

She'd never been called that before. It made something inside of her stir. 

"It's so far," she whispered.

He felt a chill down his spine at her small confession. He gulped as the anger left him completely. "Sooner then?"

"Sooner."

He nodded, biting his lower lip in deep thought. "Aye. Soon then."

A bright smile pulled at her lips. "Thank you, Cregan."

He grinned back. "Of course. Now, go on," he tutted playfully, "Your betrothed must finish his spar."

Red came to her cheeks, "Right. Right, of course. Excuse me, Lord Stark-"

"-Cregan," he quickly corrected.

"Cregan."

He watched her leave. There was a slight skip to her step now that he hadn't noticed about her before. 

Perhaps she was finding happiness in Winterfell.

…

The wedding was a large northern celebration. The bannermen and families came  from miles around to witness their Warden's wedding.

Everyone was too kind. It was beginning to worry her.

"Quite the feast, I'd say," Cregan smiled at her as the two sat at the high table. 

Her hands immediately reached for her chalice of wine.

And she didn't stop for the entire night.

…

"Let us retire," he suggested when she tried to refill her cup again. His hand reached out and gently placed it over hers. "It is getting late. And before you fret, the bedding ceremony will not happen. It is only you and I."

Her eyes softened in surprise, not expecting him to say that. "One more glass for courage?" She slurred slightly.

His brows ticked down for only a second before he composed himself. "Courage isn't needed for this. Are you truly this nervous?"

"I'm perfectly content," she huffed. 

The crease between his brows returned. That was uncharacteristic of her to speak in frustration. Had the wine affected her? "Then let us go, hmm?"

She nodded, setting her cup down. "Very well."

He stood, offering his hand out to her. She took it and stood, trying to hide the slight falter in her first step. She moved her hand up to his bicep, letting him lead her from the banquet hall.

Entering their chambers, she sat on the bed. "Will you have me on my back or shall you take me from behind?" She asked bluntly, no hint of embarrassment or hesitation to her.

Cregan hand on the doorknob faltered. He locked the door and turned to her with shock on his face, "What was that?"

"Which way do you fuck, Lord Stark?" She asked in the same tone.

He shook his head with an amused chuckle. He stepped to her, reaching down and pushing her chin up to look at him. "I will not be fucking you tonight." He watched her posture change, a relaxation coming to her. "Why would you ask something so crude? It's unlike you."

"You wanted me to speak my mind, and I have," She stated in frustration. 

"You certainly have," he commented. "But I have a feeling that the wine is twisting your words. Tell me why you indulged in so much wine tonight."

She shrugged, "Why do you care?"

He gently pulled her chin back up, "I care about you."

"There it is." Her nose twitched. "I don't know what to do when you say things like that."

He stood straight, "You didn't answer the question."

"Fine!" She stood up and stepped around him, "I drank so much because I have never known a man to be as kind as you and it frightens me."

"Frightens you? How so?" Cregan was beyond confused. He turned to watch her.

She stepped to the fireplace and buried her hands in her hair in frustration. "I've never wanted to speak my mind to anyone until I met you, and now I fear I'll say something I shouldn't and ruin it all. Do you know what that feels like? To know that one wrong word could send you back to…" Her voice faded off. 

"I don't. And neither do you, because regardless of your words, I'm not going to send you back there. You're a Stark. The Baratheons are only a name now- if you want them to be, that is. If you want to truly be a Stark in name and heart." He offered. His calculating eyes watched her closely now, frowning at the tugging of her hair.

"Even after I've indulged myself in wine and ruined our wedding to the point that you refuse to consummate the marriage with me?" She turned to him and only then did he see the glimmer of the tears that sat in her eyes. 

"You did not ruin anything. But I will not sleep with you as long as you are not fully aware of your actions."

"I am aware," she huffed.

"We shall see in the morning." The slightest amused smile come over him. "I promised to take you to bed one way or the other. Perhaps tonight, it is only to sleep and nothing more." He walked to her. "Turn around. Let me undo your laces, stubborn woman."

She did as he asked, pulling her hair over her shoulder. "Will I regret this tomorrow?"

"The marriage or this particular conversation?" He asked. "If it has to be one, I hope it is the latter. I personally enjoy the former."

She hummed, pulling her outer dress down once Cregan had untied it enough. Layer by layer, she threw each piece to the cloth chair not far from the fire. 

Cregan's careful hands untied each string they came across. 

Silence filled the room, and she broke it with a small sniffle. Her voice was much softer now, "Do you believe my father didn't want to be here? Is that something you believe?"

Of course, he believed it, but he wouldn't say it. "I'm not sure. Do you, sweet girl?"

She hummed, "I do."

That surprised him. "Ah. Do continue speaking your mind, please. Do not let me stop you."

"He has a particular hatred for women. I'm not sure where it started. When he had a firstborn daughter rather than son, my mother was fearful for the girl. I was second. He married us off without a second thought. Dare I admit to you that he signed me away to you without truly reading the document?"

Cregan placed his hands on her clothed hips and spun her to face him.

No wonder she came here so fearful. She was mistreated from the beginning. He stared into her eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle. He reached up and brushed his fingers on her cheek. "How could a man ever hate you?" He asked with a barely heard voice.

Her heart jolted, "I have never felt love before. Is it supposed to feel this warm?"

Cregan let out a joyful laugh as he ran his hands through her hair. "I want to say yes, but you're near the fire. And the wine is coloring your cheeks. We shall revisit this when you are well. Let us get you to bed."

"Bed? Right." She pulled herself from him and moved to the bed. She tucked herself under the covers.

Cregan's smile stayed. "Are you warm enough for the night?"

"Yes, but… are you not staying?"

He shook his head. "I don't want you to wake in a fright if tonight's details blur in your mind. Waking beside me may be startling for you."

"No! I-" she looked around the room in thought. "I want you to stay. I want that."

His head tilted. "Alright. If you want this. But know that nothing will happen to you while I stay here tonight."

"I can live with that," she admitted as she laid on the bed completely.

Darkness filled the room with Cregan blew out the candles, and the bed dipped down as he laid on it. 

…

In the morning, she awoke with a groan. The sun was burning her eyes. 

"Ah, you're awake," Cregan's voice commented from across the room.

She sat up and rubbed at her eyes until they were raw, determined to get the feeling to fade. When she did, a headache began to erupt.

"Easy," he chided as he walked to her. He reached to the nightstand and held a cup out to her. "The maester made a tea to help with the pain."

She sipped it gratefully. "I had the strangest dream that I'm fearing is true," she said with a groggy voice.

He watched her with a glimmer in his eyes. His hand reached to her and smoothed her hair down.

She peered up at him. She wondered how someone could be so thoughtful.

"Tell me something," he said as sat down at her side. "If that's alright."

"Anything," she whispered. Her eyes flickered to his lips. 

"Is the warmth still there?" 

He watched her face began to near his. She placed her hand on his leg to help her lean over to him. "I believe I love you," she admitted gently.

He smiled and leaned the rest of the way to her. His lips kissed her softly and slowly. 

Before she could truly react, he pulled away again. The grin on his lips returned, as were his hands in her hair, "I was going to gift this to you yesterday, but I believe today is a better day for it."

"Oh," her shy demeanor returned and she set the cup down.

"Don't fret. You'll adore it. Or… I hope you do."

She watched him get up from the bed, beginning to dig though a drawer in his closet. 

He returned with a book in his hand. "It took some time, but I believe it was worth it."

She reached out and took it, examining the cover. She only stared at it for a moment before her eyes lit up. "Is this-?"

"Your favorite novel? It is." His head tilted back and forth, "Or, at least, I believe it is."

"This isn't the same copy as the one with my Father," she remarked.

"No, it's not. I tried to recover it but was unsuccessful. I hope this copy with be worthy of your happiness."

"Oh, Cregan," she mused. "It's… it is too much. I don't understand."

"It is a wedding gift. Do not think twice about it. You haven't the feignest idea of how far I would go to please you," he admitted.

"I've never had someone do something so selfless on my behalf." She hugged it to her chest, "Tell me how you managed it."

He smiled, content with the way she cherished the book. "I admit that I wrote a letter to your father, asking for the book. I was sent ripped pages in return-"

He faltered at the way her face fell.

"-But," he continued, "I sent the pages off to three well-read men and promised them anything to the man who found the novel it belonged to. It took a while, and I feared I would not have it in time, but alas, one of them found it. And here it is."

"What did he wish for?"

He frowned slightly, "Don't fret over that. Just know that it is all handled accordingly."

She pulled it from her chest to look at it again to guarantee that it was indeed real. "You are the most spectacular man I've met." She looked up at him. "I don't know what I have done to deserve you, but I shall spend my entire life thanking the gods for you."

"It is only a novel, my girl."

"It is much more than a novel."

"Then you'd hate to see what else I'd get you to only see a smile come to your lips."

She leaned over to him again as before, "May I kiss you?"

"Of course," he smiled. 

She grinned and pushed herself into his lap completely, pulling her body as close to his as she could, careful to not hit him with the book still in her hand. 

She finally connected their lips with a heavier intent than they had shared before.

He groaned against her and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm certain," she panted against his lips, "I love you."

"My girl, I've loved you since the moment you arrived in Winterfell."

She pulled away from him completely. "W… What?"

"Since that day," he said as he brushed his thumb over her cheek. "I've been quite sure that I love you."

"You feel warmth when you are with me?"

"When I see you, I want to keep you beside me. I want to hold and kiss you until you're dizzy. I want to watch you sit and read until you become one with the sofa," he chuckled, "I want to see your joy as much as I can. I want you."

"You're unlike any man I know."

"That's alright. Isn't it?"

She chuckled as full relief flowed from her, as if only now accepting that she was safe here. "What a silly question, my lord."

He tilted his head playfully. "My lord?"

"It was my attempt at a jest," she admitted sheepishly. "Was it a poor one?"

"No," he countered. "I was just not expecting it from my meek wife. Perhaps she is not as meek as I once thought."

She laughed again, "Perhaps. We'll see, won't we?"

He kissed her cheek, "I cannot wait." He spoke in her ear, "But for now, be gone. You have a novel to read, don't you?"

Her eyes lit up and she clambered out of his lap. "I do! Oh, I do!"

Cregan watched the woman run to the cloth chair by the fireplace and sit, pulling her book open in a rush to absorb its words.

He chuckled and stood as he began to dress, "I'll fetch you for dinner. There's breakfast on the table from earlier. I expect you'll be content until then," he teased.

She looked up and nodded, "I will."

"Read closely. I expect to hear a summary at dinner of whatever chapters you consume."

She grinned from ear to ear as he left.

………………………………………………….

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,

[ilydeku]

teacher izuku has a girlfriend??

Regardless of the joy and spur he expelled towards the students, Izuku knew how to maintain the steady hand of keeping the class under set composure. Nothing but the intent to teach and the will to learn, an equitable relationship between the two—and it was no question. Being the most loved and favored teacher had its perks, and grandiose respect was one of them.

But no matter how mature a student has grown, having fun will always reign somewhere along their focal point. Even if that fun means encouraging their teacher in his love life.

"...-because a good relationship between your teammates makes for optimal communication, conduct, and cooperation," explained Izuku, pointing from one spot on the board to another, well immersed in his lesson. "Now, considering quirk-"

"Speaking of relationships, are you in a relationship, sir?" A student, a frivolous girl, teasingly pipes in sudden interest. Plenty of students amongst the grade claimed a crush on Deku-sensei. Of course they did: he's sweet, very tentative and understanding to all his students individually, and takes his time to really help and engrave the knowledge he possessed for them to become the best future heroes they could be. That, and mostly his physical charms. So wouldn't it be in his best interest to have a girlfriend?

Little did Izuku know that this inquiry marked the beginning of his first uncontrollable havoc.

For a moment, he hesitated, pausing midway on the convoluted diagrams drawn on the whiteboard. A strange question, but he thought nothing much of it. He turned around and crossed his arms, lazily pointing the expo marker to the girl.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that. Unrelevant, didn't see a hand raised-"

"Aw, but sir!" She draws out, slumping back in her seat. "Are you?"

Some students began to look at each other and exchange a few grins until the room began to slowly increase in volume and erupt into unintelligible chatter.

"Ahem."

The room fell into silence accordingly, but he could clearly read the expression on everyone's faces. The class was still waiting for his answer, the way they stared and leaned over their desks in anticipation. Izuku sighs and turns back to the board.

"...no, I'm not in a relationship. Moving on, the information I've drawn-"

"Really?" The girl cuts in matter of factly with a tilt of her head. "But aren't you and y/n talking??"

A chorus of engrossed 'oohs' echoed across the room and a very subtle, but defined shade of pink dusted his cheeks at the mention of you. He turned around again and attempted to regain composure of the class.

"Everyone settle down-"

"Y/n L/n? Isn't that (hero name)?? I think she's in the top 20's now."

"Yeah! I've seen her drop by the school a couple times during lunch!"

"Now that I think about it, Deku-sensei does have her come in as a guest speaker a lot..."

It was just one after another, the addition of suspicions and theories now bringing the truth to the surface. Izuku swallowed.

A loose black band around Izuku's wrist caught another student's eye and they stood up and pointed in excitement. "Look!! Deku-sensei has hair ties on his wrist!! Hair ties!!"

"Kids, please...-"

"Wow..I've never seen your class this rowdy before, Izuku!!" That voice. His head snapped toward you in surprised, totally flustered about the situation. The entire class went dead silent and turned to you, standing at the entrance of the classroom. You wave at his kids with a smile and stroll over to Izuku's desk, dropping off a bag of some sort. He watches you endearingly.

"You forgot your lunch at home, silly."

"O-Oh did I? Haha, sorry y/n. Thank you. You're on break right now, right?"

The students watched you both like a show, taking in the interaction, the body language, the words. There's no doubt you two were a thing right? Deku-sensei and (hero name)!!

And just then, you confirmed it with simple kiss on his cheek.

"Bye, Izuku! Be nice to the kids, hm?"

"You know I always am!!"

As soon as the classroom door clicked, the class burst into awe.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US???"

[hlysins]

tag dump: characters part two

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon is the father of your children.

Warnings: fluff all the way; canon divergence; long post.

( @dracaryxzs for you! One hopes you might like seeing Aegon happy here)

***

• How it all began…

You are his twin, his other half… What one feels the other feels it too. Naturally, as a result, bond came. Courtiers like to say how “wherever the Lord Aegon goes, Lady Y/N is after him like a loyal puppet.”

What they don’t understand is that you and him are two sides of the same coin, blood of dragon, despite the prince calling you his sun, to which he himself gravitates.

“I cannot not believe you are never bored whenever we are together”, says Aegon.

You both are blossoming into youth. You are the only one he trusts, the one he is naturally charmed to. But something about his age doesn’t let him admit there are feelings too.

“I am unlike any other”, you tell him in turn, a smile on your rosy lips. “We came together to this world, Aegon.”

He gives you a shy smile, lowering his gaze—you tamed him, like, it is said, your grandmother had tamed her husband, your grandsire, when they were both the same age.

Lively and so full of life, not even Aegon can deny you anything.

“Let us ride, shall we?”

And not waiting for a response, he takes you by the hand and in between giggles and chuckles the two of you go after your respective dragons.

Sunfyre has been enamored by Dreamfyre and as a result the female dragon has put some eggs. As soon as you are told this, you tell the object of your affections that:

“See, Egg? Evident signs that we are bonded right here”, and you show him the different coloured eggs.

Aegon smiles at you. How can you make him forget the scars of his troubled soul? How can you even sweep away grey clouds, making it seem that it is possible to find happiness?

When looking at your serenity, at how beaming you are before the eggs you cling yourself to, the prince sees himself in you.

You are the light of my world, Y/N.

As if you feel the tenderness his thought emanates, you turn your head at him and give him an egg.

“We are grandparents now, I’m afraid.”

That makes him cackle. A sound so rejoicing, full of life. Few could tell to have ever heard Lord Aegon laugh merrily.

“Too young for that. Come, Y/N!” And then turning to Sunfyre, Aegon is the image of a boy who finds love and happiness where at home such were taken from him.

You smile warmly when seeing the golden dragon almost smiling itself the moment he welcomes his rider.

A bond as strong as the one I have with my beloved.

Then you are distracted by nearly losing balance when Dreamfyre comes at you, resting her head against your face.

“Calm down, girl. I am not as heavy as you are”, you giggle, gently laying your head over the scales of your dragon, whom you claimed when you were ten years old. “Ready to fly high? To some adventures, eh?”

A sound comes from your dragon’s throat. It’s almost as if she speaks excitedly: “Aye, let us go! I’m ready for it!”, which only increases your good mood.

Now here you two are, flying synchronized, one being the extension of the other. Skies may have some clouds, but sun shines high with some warm breeze that announces summer.

“I suggest we could fly atop Dragonstone”, you tell Aegon over your shoulder. “There’s a spot no one goes there.”

“Rhaenyra is settled there with her children”, says Aegon with an unread expression.

You shrug your shoulders.

“So what? I’ve been there frequently and not once she scoffed me off. I doubt she ever knew I flew to this spot.”

And you flash him a mischievous smirk.

Aegon laughs in turn, realizing he’s unable to deny you anything. Flying as high as he could, there’s little need to tell Sunfyre where to go. As if the creature captured the rider’s thoughts, he flies exactly to where he wants… as does Dreamfyre.

It is almost as if both dragons suspect something may come up… even if you and Aegon don’t know that yet.

*

There is a lake in the midst of vast forests, where silence reigns and there is no sign of any living being. A few hills here and there separate the spot of the rest of Dragonstone.

“How did you come here?”, Aegon inquires you, intrigued by this unusual place. Hardly a man acostumed to wild life, his eyes scan these new surroundings with a mix of suspect and curiosity.

You are untying your hair and loosening your gown—you often ride Dreamfyre in your feast gowns, much to the Queen’s dismay— when you say:

“I don’t think I fit very well at court. I tend to flee whenever I can.”

Aegon is somewhat distracted by your curves, and how poorly hidden your curves are beneath the fabric you dress. He swallows hard, then says:

“We are betrothed. One day you’ll be queen.”

You flash him another of your typical mischievous smirks.

“When have I never performed my duties, brother?”

Aegon shakes his head, but he’s chuckling when he comes next to you.

“Well?”, you tilt your head and the prince seems to notice how handsome you look, wild and free—the way you are born to be. “Aren’t you going to swim with me?”

“Is that a challenge?”, he asks you in a whisper.

You like how he looks at you. Maybe this makes your nipples hard. And maybe this makes him burning inside.

“Perhaps.”

And without waiting for a response, you jump in. Aegon smirks, soon following you.

***

• Summer Children.

His kiss is indescribable. No words can do justice to the warmth his breath gives you, to the bliss it inspires you, to the affection it craves in you. Oh, where are the words when we need most?

Whispers at court regard you and Aegon as the “Baelon and Alyssa” of your age, perhaps two souls reincarnated. Whatever the truth, all you can think about is the taste of his lips against yours.

Not only that, there is more to inspire. As you are riding Dreamfyre in the absence of your lover—he’s been summoned by your father to attend the council—, summer breeze cannot cool down the heat in your heart. And you still recall that night.

Where no living being is found amidst corridors, when, for a moment of weakness, no guard lies awake; when unprotecting is at stake… Here he comes, visiting you.

Boldly so, his steps are silent—right under his demeanor there is a haunted boy, famine for affection, filled with desire to please… but above all, a very insecure man who needs to play pretend before all.

Even though you are not like any other, being in fact the only one who’s witnessed his fragility, he remains blunt in his manners.

Yet when the door opens… and you stand there in your line nightgown with your hair loose, his confidence dies.

“I feared you’d not come”, but there is nothing blunt or arrogant in how you welcome him; but rather tenderness from the moment he’s engulfed in your arms. “I missed you, Aegon. Too much I long for you.”

“My dear Y/Nickname…”, he buries his head against your neck and from the moment he inhales your scent, no pride is strong enough to resist the obvious. “In vain have I struggled to repress my sentiments for you.”

Hearing these words give you the reassurance you’ve been longing.

“Oh you took long enough, didn’t you? I’ve been kept in waiting, but it was worth it.”

One kiss and you are doomed. Aegon waits no longer, not anymore. He takes hold of your face and presses his lips against yours, biting your bottom lip and slamming the door as he leads the way.

“You must promise, though”, you push him away gently, much to his frustration. But you need to be sure… just in case.

“Anything”, his voice comes out in a plea.

You raise your eyebrows and Aegon, though sensing what might be asked of, is willing to pay the price. He is not letting go of you.

“No more whoring. I am no woman of sharing”, you tell him seriously.

Aegon smiles warmly, but you spot relief behind his eyes. He grabs you by the waist and says:

“I am yours and yours alone, Y/N. We came out to this world together, didn’t we? So we are dying together as well.”

“That is some drama you put in there, love”, you smirk before clashing your lips against his.

That night you came to learn you loved riding your dragon and we are not talking about Dreamfyre.

*

Nine moons later, the results of you and Aegon’s indiscretion comes to the world with a very strong pair of lungs.

“Here comes a very strong prince”, so announces the midwife.

You are exhausted after almost 12 hours in labour, a puddle of sweat and blood, but from the moment you are told you delivered a boy, you beamed proudly:

“I performed my duty well.”

Aegon, in the meantime, is left waiting outside, pacing impatiently in the corridors.

“One wonders what witchcraft has Y/N used to keep you in this state”, muses Aemond in his unusual show of sense of humor.

The prince of Dragonstone doesn’t bother answering Aemond, rather limiting to shooting a glare. It’s when Princess Helaena comes with a smile on her lips.

“My brothers.”

“We salute you well, sister. But pray tell us the news soon: is Y/N well? How’s the child?”

“She is doing great, Aegon. She’s recovering and getting some rest. As for the child… congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy!”

Aegon is paled by the news and even Aemond gets somewhat concerned with his older brother, holding him by his elbows.

“Are you well?”

“A boy”, he mumbles. “Y/N gave us a boy.”

“Our line is safe”, Aemond agrees. Then turning at Helaena, he asks: “Has the name been chosen?”

“Well, Y/N wants a traditional name… so she decided to have the boy named after you, Aegon.”

No one had ever seen the prince Aegon this overjoyed. The way he smiles… who wouldn’t be captivated by this sight? Even Aemond smiles too at this sight. Of all the misadjusted family, at least two of them found happiness… though when Helaena looks at him, he’s not too far from it himself.

“I must see her!”

Ignoring Helaena’s advice that no man is allowed in these chambers, Aegon, tradition-breaker, storms inside, demanding to see you.

You have just left your privy quarters dressed in a line nightgown with your hair wet and recently brushed when he comes at you.

“Husband!”, you giggle quietly when you are engulfed by his strong arms. “You should wait for me. I am not churched yet and we must…”

“Fuck traditions. I wanted to see my wife”, says he, peppering your face with tender kisses before looking at you with the devotion of a lover. “Are you well?”

You cast him the most infatuated glance to him, locking your hands around his neck as if there were no witnesses in the room.

“I am, thank you. Nothing that I could not handle myself”, you assure him. “Aegon, I performed my duties. I gave you a son.”

“Even if it wasn’t, as long as the child is healthy and you are healthy too, nothing else matters”, he whispers in your ear.

The prince cannot state enough his relief in seeing you well and safe. By how he holds you close, it is as if he needs another reassurance that childbirth will not steal you of him.

Feeling his fears, you raise your chin and give him that blunt gaze that marks your lively personality which he’s familiar with.

“I have no intention in leaving you alone in this world, unless you choose another to be in my place.”

Aegon gives you a meaningful look before snorting and scoffing at the same time.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N! How could you possibly consider I’d find a substitute for you? I thought you knew me better, woman.”

You both share a quiet laugh before kissing as if to seal an unspoken vow. Not too far from the scene is the Queen, with her father by her side.

“Who’d know this was coming?”, she sighs, content with the merry scene that rolls before her gaze. “I may have been deprived of happiness myself, but on the other hand… thankfully such a burden is not placed on the shoulders of mine own offspring.”

“Do not be so dramatic, Alicent. This match is as fruitful as yours was”, says Otto, nonchalantly like usual. “But at times even I admit that I can see Baelor and Alyssa once more.”

A struggle he keeps to himself, since Otto and Baelor never saw eye to eye. Leaving such personal haunting aside, eventually this summer prince also named Aegon is seen placed in the arms of his mother.

“He’s a lovely child”, murmurs Aegon, whose head is now resting over your shoulder. “I cannot stop looking away of his delicate features.”

“Perhaps you should hold him”, you suggest in a whisper since the regal baby is asleep in your arms.

“I do not wish to wake him up”, says your husband, though you may detect a degree of panic in his voice.

You find his concern adorable, respecting his time. This afternoon, you and him watch over your newly born soon in great delight of how your love produced a handsome baby.

“Our summer prince”, you beam at him.

Aegon shares a smile with you. He looks thrilled before kissing your forehead.

“I cannot believe I am his father.”

“A doting father as I’m sure you will be.”

At times he doubts it, but this is a shadow he is unwilling to cast in such a bright moment. All Aegon can say is:

“Thank you for believing in me.”

He does blush though when you kiss his cheek and tell him in turn:

“How could it be otherwise? As my other half, you shall burn as bright as any dragon, my sun and stars.”

***

Little Egg, as he is called, is getting every attention Aegon’s father never bother doting his son. Whilst you are breast feeding, just nine months later his birth, a baby girl whom you named Alysanne after your favourite ancestor, father and son are found together at the nunnery.

“Your mother told me she plans to take you and Dear Alys to fly our dragon. I am not discouraging her, but we should best wait for a litttle bit, uh?”, says the protective father whilst rocking his lively and often chuckling boy in his arms. “Oh so you think this is funny? Are you planning to take after your great-grandparents?”

Aegon is holding him still, playing with the boy when the moment is interrupted by a maid.

“Excuse me, sire. His lordship must be fed. And your lady wife has summoned you.”

“Very well”, he stands, with the prince in his arms. “Before I handle you my precious jewel, Lady H/N, I must be certain you have been fed well. After all, you are responsible for feeding my child.”

“Indeed, lord. I am healthy and robust from the day I started the service”, the woman says seriously.

“Good. I appreciate it”, he nods before kissing his son’s temple. When seeing he’s about to weep, Aegon softens: “Do not cry, my prince. This is not a farewell. I shall go back later, I assure you.”

Reluctantly, he parts, though he does wish to go back when hearing a cry. Aegon pauses at the door but when looking back, Lady H/N has taken little Egg inside the quarters.

*

“How is mine faire ladies?”, the soon to be king asks you the moment he steps inside.

“Looking better than you”, you giggle quietly. “What happened, love?”

“I had to leave him with those women”, Aegon grumbles.

“I know. I don’t like leaving him there either, but thanks to you I can only feed one child now”, you laugh quietly.

Alysanne, whose hair is as silver as her parents’s, makes noises and Aegon, now more confident in how handling babies, carefully holds her.

“If I remember well, you were climbing on me when I was trying to sleep just the day you were churched”, Aegon chuckles.

“You keep saying that to yourself”, you lean to kiss his cheek. “You have been blessed with a handsomeness that makes me difficult not to merrily engage in marital affairs.”

Again, your bluntness makes him blush, a deed only you could brag in succeed doing so. Aegon gives you a long, meaningful look.

“Watch your tongue, woman. You don’t know what you are saying.”

But his mischievous smirk tells you precisely otherwise. The connection you two share has never grown stronger…

***

• Midnight Sun.

Little Egg is barely three when Aegon takes him for a ride in Sunfyre and you take two year old Alysanne with you as you mount Dreamfyre. It’s late night and since this family is restless, there’s no obligation to stop them in doing so—as if any would do in other period of the day.

“Fly high, Dreamfyre”, you whisper the command in High Valyrian and the dragon doesn’t need much before taking impulse and… weeeee, you and your excited child finally get to the skies.

“Let us do this, S.”, Aegon tells his beautiful golden dragon, resting his face against the creature’s forehead. “Look, this is the son I told you about. He gets my name, and Gods hope that he takes after my best traits. Not that I have many, but…”

Sunfyre buffs as if saying: oh please, you may not be perfect, but you have great qualities! To which Aegon blushes and smiles.

“You are a great friend, Sunfyre.”

“Daddy”, says Little Egg. “Fly!”

“Calm down young man. Are you in a rush?”, Aegon chuckles at his demanding son.

“Mommy… flew.”

“Oh. She’s always in a rush that woman you call your mother. Let’s do it then.”

And soon Aegon’s smile would spread larger if possible as Sunfyre finally spreads his large wings and begins to fly, the reason why Little Egg is happy.

When they are finally getting higher, Aegon makes sure his son is enjoying it. He wants to create this memorable moment that shall reinforce the bond father and son has.

It’s working since little Egg turns his head to his father and says:

“Amazing!”

“Are you enjoying that, my boy?”

“Yes! More, more! Please!”

Aegon laughs happily and does as requested. They fly as high as possible before diving below to meet you and Alysanne. The scene makes the prince emotional. His wife is looking as beautiful as wild as the day he realized he loved you to an unbearable point.

Sensing his gaze, you turn your head to meet him. And feeling your feelings, Dreamfyre is instantly drawn to Sunfyre.

“How’s it going?”, you ask him, eyes sparkling with delight for making it possible an old dream where you and Aegon, together with children of your own, would fly with your respective dragons.

“Just the way you wanted”, so Aegon tells you as if he’s read your mind.

You and him exchanged loving gazes and sweet smiles, letting the dragons taking the reins of the situation.

Indeed, as your children beam, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre dance.

Such is the dance of the dragons.

**

The toddlers are snoring by the time you and Aegon land.

“They should sleep with us in bed this night”, he suggests you, as he passes an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss on top of your forehead.

“I agree”, and then you instantly pause before the door of the red keep. “Aegon… I would like to thank you.”

“What for?”, he asks you, intrigued.

“For giving me these lovely children, for being the partner I’ve always known you’d be. For being my other half.” You smile softly. “I’d die for you, I hope you know that. You deserve to be loved, to all that you are given.”

“Y/N…”, he’s surprised to hearing these words of you, even though Aegon never needed proof of how you felt for him.

You stroke his face, wiping away his tears. Both of you know that you only have each other, and yet it’s enough. Specially now you have children of your own.

Resting his forehead against yours, the prince closes his eyes and kisses you.

“Whatever our souls are made of…”

“…mine and yours are the same.”

***

• Epilogue.

Alysanne is fast asleep when she dreams of dragons. Dragons that fight, dragons that die, dragons that survive. In the midst of chaos, she runs after her father.

Where is he? She calls out his name only to find another who is not in his throne. She wakes up thus, unable to remember the usurper’s identity, a mere shadow. But it’s enough to scare the seven year old princess.

She leaves her privy chambers. It’s still dark, but she needs to be sure he’s there somehow. Alysanne runs barefoot to her parents’ chambers. She opens its door, holding her breath but praising the Gods there’s some fire in the fireplace.

She sees you’re sleeping next to your father, but when seeing he’s there…. what a relief. Yet, the princess is scared to go back to her chambers.

“Papa”, she pokes him. “Papa, wake up.”

Aegon groans lightly, but when seeing it’s his oldest daughter calling him, he only rubs his eyes and makes sure to sit properly, careful in not waking you up.

“Lys”, he calls her affectionately and is probably thankful for wearing some proper garments after early copulating with you. “What’s wrong?”

Alysanne quickly throws her arms around his neck.

“I am scared. I don’t want to lose you”, she sniffs.

Aegon rocks her in his arms, smiling quietly for doing so.

“You’re not losing me. Who told you this nonsense? Has Little Egg been teasing you again?”

“No. He’s been good, actually”, she tells him, holding tightly against his neck. “I had a nightmare.”

For some reason, this gives him shivers. But Aegon isn’t inclined to dig into this deeper.

“A nightmare is just a nightmare. Come. Do you want to sleep with mama and papa today?”

Alysanne smiles brightly. She then kisses his cheek just as you are waking up.

“What happened?”, you ask, worried. “Are you well, my dear Alys?”

“She had a nightmare”, Aegon tells you as if this doesn’t mean anything, but one exchange of glances tells you this isn’t anything. Yet neither should feed it. And you agree. “So I’m letting her sleep with us tonight.”

You nod discreetly before kissing your daughter’s forehead.

“Of course. Like the good old days uh?”

And you watch as Alysanne makes herself comfortable in between you and your husband. Aegon strokes her hair as you cover her.

“Do you think…?” Aegon leaves the question in the air.

“Let us leave to concern about it tomorrow. It’s late.”

Aegon agrees. But neither looks forward to go back to sleep. As he casts a fond gaze at the princess, you take his hand and give it a small squeeze.

“It’s going to be all right. Helaena is doing well with it.”

“I know. But…”

“And at the same time she’s not like Helaena”, you tell him. “Let us not confuse things. It’s going to be well.”

“I just worry. I do not wish…”

Aegon looks away, remembering the wounds of his neglect childhood. There’s little need to explain since you can feel what he feels.

“Aegon, my love. We are not like them”, you tell him firmly. As he looks at you, you stroke his hair and place a lock of his messy hair behind his ear. “We are not like our parents. We are better than them. I’d not say so if I believed otherwise. Just look at how Egg seeks to impress you, how Alysanne came after you tonight… or how our twins Jaehaerys and Jaehaera often run after you.”

Aegon smiles quietly.

“How can you convince me that easily?”

“It’s the truth I speak. Besides… I have to tell you something”, and here you whisper. “I conceived again.”

“Oh how fertile we are!”, Aegon chuckles merrily.

You both kiss, before settling to lay down, careful now with your daughter fast asleep in between you. Shadows for once are pushed and in late night midnight sun comes to shine bright.

Oh these delights…

[teaboot]

I am often self-concious of how often I talk and laugh in social settings. I've tried to stop, but can't seem to help myself. This has been a problem my entire life, for as long as I can remember, since my very first days of preschool. In efforts not to speak, I just feel myself get more and more excited until I lose my will to reign it in and spill words everywhere.

In light of that, here are some positive things I've heard about it:

"I could listen to you talk all day. I think you're one of the only people I can listen to who doesn't bore me to death."

(I burst out laughing in class after a long absence. someone across the room hears me.) "Hey! Now Tea's back!"

"You always know so many weird facts. It's awesome."

"Your life is buckwild. I love hearing from you, I never know what you're going to tell me."

"You really struggle at this, but you still show up and you do it anyways with a smile."

"How does your brain move so fast? You always have the perfect response ready to go."

"You know, I don't think you should write your next presentation ahead of time. You're much more engaging and dynamic when you ad-lib. Sticking to the script seems to slow you down."

"You give really good talks. Have you thought about teaching?"

"I can really feel your passion when you talk."

"I love how every time I take you somewhere we have funny interactions with people."

[sandwhitches]

ೃ༄ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐄? (𝐩𝐭. 𝐈𝐈)

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀: bokuto koutaro, akaashi keiji, iwaizumi hajime, oikawa tooru & sakusa kiyoomi

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰: how they pop the question! (hcs + drabbles)

𝗰𝘄: implied fem. reader, mentions of marriage tehehe, mushy corny top romance

𝗮/𝗻: part two yayyyy!!! i wanted to post this earlier in the day but i unfortunately have to be a functioning member of society from time to time blegh. iwa's part is dedicated to my lovely moot @froyaoya who just gets it. sorry for any typos!!! also working on requests from the event still hehehe

(read part 1 here!!!)

𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎

» Look at this man, this beautiful blessing of a man, and tell me this is not about to be the showiest proposal ever

» He’s asking you to marry him and he wants EVERYONE to know (in the purest way possible)

» You knew what you were getting yourself into

» Is he nervous? No, maybe, he doesn’t want to think about it, OKAY?!

» Thinks the perfect time is asking you right after MSBY wins at finals, but one of his teammates (because he told them the plan…obviously) is like what are you going to do if we lose???? He almost dies on the spot because he totally forgot that was a possibility whoops

» There’s an easy way around that problem! Just win, duh!

Your heart feels as if it could just beat out of your chest with excitement as the last set ends, MSBY reigning victorious. Mind swimming with unadulterated pride, you’re already halfway down to the court once others begin to flood it, nothing you want more but the man who is currently wading through a crowd in search of you. 

For a brief moment, you pause at the sidelines, unable to find him, then remember Bokuto was probably in the midst of one of many interviews or something else much more important than a simple post-game congratulatory hug. Your conjecture is quickly smashed by the call of your name, paired with your boyfriend’s big, shiny beam of pure joy as he opens his arms for you. You let out a huff of laughter, then hurry over, practically launching yourself into his hold. 

Koutaro exclaims in delight, squeezing you close as he spins you around excitedly, “Did you see?!” You giggle, still holding onto his thick forearms as he places you down, “How could I not?” 

Bokuto’s chest puffs with pride before he bends over ever so slightly to give you a kiss that he’s been thinking about for the better half of the game. He dearly hopes that you didn’t see him dash off the court as soon as he was able to, making a quick job of fishing a ring box from his duffel bag on the sidelines as Atsumu cheered him on. Now, the box sits in the pocket of his uniform shorts, ready to be presented to you. 

“You did so good, Kou!” You add with an endearing smile, chest filling with warmth as his smile broadens upon hearing the praise, “Only because you were watching me.” Bokuto supplies in a chipper response, cheeks flushed. 

“I think you’re good, either way,” you chuckle fondly.

Koutaro clicks his tongue playfully, wagging his head back and forth in disagreement, “Nah, you’re the reason I’ve made it this far, after all.”

Though you beg to differ, it’s nice to hear it. You’re more than positive that Bokuto would have made it this far with or without you, still, you can’t help but count yourself lucky for being along for the ride.

What started as his hopeful attempts to impress you with showy spikes back in high school, what turned into a cramped downtown apartment, and what is now this moment that you share on the court. And while to you all of this seems so extraneous to his performance tonight, Bokuto can surely recognize where his motivation has been coming from, it’s only natural he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. 

“I want to be able to win every game in the future for you!” He declares, and it takes you a moment to register that he’s deadly serious, you’d nearly giggled in response, “I just want you to enjoy yourself, isn’t that what matters?” You speak up a bit over the crowd, head tilting. 

“Well, you’re right,” he shrugs, “But I also think you’re the biggest reason why I keep wanting to get better.” 

The sentiment makes a lump form in your throat, knowing that he doesn’t even mean to flatter you half of the time, he’s being entirely honest with you. That’s one thing you’ll never grow used to about Bokuto, how easily he can say something that knocks the breath out of you, and everything he tells you is undeniably true to what he believes. 

“So, that’s why I hope we can be together forever,” he adds with a simple nod, reaching into his pocket. You’re just about to agree, after all, he says such sappy things like this so often that it’s hard to tell when the words have more weight behind them. This time, you soon realize as he lowers himself to the ground, his words have the weight of the entire world. 

“I love you so much, you know? I’ll never stop, either,” Bokuto presents a ring box that looks absolutely tiny in his large hands, still, he’s ever so gentle in opening it to reveal a large diamond that glitters under the stadium lights. At this point, the people around you have paused their celebratory ministrations to watch, but none of that really matters to you and Bokuto. The most important thing in the world, you can’t ever deny, is the man staring up at you so lovingly. And coincidentally, you just happen to be the most important thing in the world to him, too. 

“I hope you’ll let me love you forever,” he speaks with sheer confidence and pride, as he does with everything else, “Can I marry you?”

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈

» Something simple but intimate, that’s just his thing 

» Definitely a winter proposal, Akaashi thinks the snow is just so romantic

» Takes you down to a snowy park to go ice skating (despite contrary belief, you probably had to hold him up almost the entire time, this man doesn’t exactly have any natural grace when it comes to treading ice)

» Afterwards, it’s the standard snow day affair, you two build a snowman and give it a name inspired by one of your countless inside jokes, the both of you engage in snowball warfare, he buys you a cup of cocoa and sits on the bench with you (and yeah, he helps you blow on it, he’s just that perfect)

» What you DON'T know is that all day he’s been waiting for the right moment to reveal the little gift he’s been harboring for you in his back pocket

You can’t remember the last time you felt cold in the winter at all. When you think about it, the icy bite of frozen wind hasn’t nipped at your cheeks in years, perhaps having something to do with the eternal warmth the man beside you incited, the sort of toasty comfort that made your muscles loosen and eyelids go heavy. 

Akaashi’s breath comes out in short, puffy clouds, then rolls out into nothing in a matter of mere seconds. The crunching of snow beneath soles of winter boots fills the silence and makes your heart sing, oh, how you love this time of year. Beside you, however, Keiji is struggling to discern what his instincts are telling him to do. Two separate thoughts of just do it now and wait for another time have been pestering him all day to the point in which he can no longer hold a conversation without feeling a nervous ache in his chest. 

“Ah!” You exclaim with surprise, tilting your chin up ever so slightly towards the cloudy sky. Akaashi peers at you first, then up in the direction you face, realizing that tiny snowflakes are beginning to fall down to earth once more. The world is so quiet during the winter, he thinks, even with the mirth surrounding the two of you in the busy park, the snow will always serve to bolster the sound in its milky white embrace. 

He chuckles to himself as you stick out your tongue, darting it upwards to catch a snowflake, and the sight nearly makes him forget about what he came here to do. If there truly is a perfect time, Akaashi isn’t sure he’ll ever have the confidence to pin it, but right now, things feel okay, they feel right. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs in a whisper, catching your attention. Akaashi doesn’t miss the snowflake stuck to your eyelashes, nor the stray speckles of snow glittering in your hair like sugar. Your cheeks flush, leaving you to grin sweetly at him in gratitude while he brushes snowflakes from your hair, “You know what I just realized right now?”

You hum, blinking up at him curiously for an answer, eyes training on the subtle upturn of his lips, the crinkle of his reddened nose. 

“I think this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.” Your heart swells and a flustered, almost sheepish, giggle falls under your breath at the compliment. Akaashi can be so romantic, sometimes, and it leaves you wondering if he even knows what he’s doing to you…he has to, hasn’t he? Keiji clears his throat, “Actually, that’s what I wanted to ask you about today.”

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you tilt your head at him ever so slightly, “What do you mean?”

Now it’s Akaashi’s turn to let out a sheepish laugh, slipping a knit glove off of one of his hands and placing it into his coat pocket, much to your perplexity. “I wanted to ask if you’d let me have this forever. There’s nothing else I’d really want more than this.” Suddenly, everything clicks in your mind as he reaches into his back pocket and lowers to one knee, that softened grin of his cracking into a wide beam once tears flood into your eyes.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to marry you,” the ring he’s since taken from the box shines so brilliantly under snowy sunbeams, and you realize Akaashi was right about one thing, this is the happiest you think you’ve ever seen him. 

“Would you let me have that? Will you marry me?”

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐄

» This is the world’s best boyfriend in case there was any confusion (which there shouldn’t be)

» Unfortunately this man wouldn’t know subtle if it slapped him in the face and stole his lunch money

» If you get your nails done, Iwa always pays for them, but he is oddly persistent about it the week leading up to when he plans to propose…which is kinda suspicious to you but you let it go

» He’s a big nature lover!!! He loves going on hikes with you (and doesn’t even mind in the slightest if he has to wait up for you, all he cares about is spending time together)

» Suggests the two of you go to your favorite trail and is absolutely relieved when you agree (Oikawa’s already headed over to hide in the bushes for three hours with a camera)

Wiping the sweat off your brow, you let release a drawn-out heavy breath of relief to have finally made it past the steep monster of a hill you and Iwaizumi had been dreading to trek. It’s worth it, though, it always is. The past few times that the two of you have gone down this trail, you’ve never lingered long enough to get the perfect view that you’re getting now, overlooking treetops gone vibrant green like everything else in springtime. 

“I thought you weren’t gonna make it for a second,” Hajime snickers, pulling at the collar of his shirt to cool himself down, and you can’t help but ponder why he seems so different today. For one, he’s taken every excuse to put his hands on you, holding your waist or lacing his fingers gently into your own with a periodic squeeze or two. Not to mention, he also can’t seem to be able to take his eyes off of you, which isn’t anything new in the slightest, save for a brand new depth to its usual shine that has puzzled you. 

“Are you kidding?” You scoff playfully, “I’m the one who almost had to drag you the rest of the way!” The two of you both know that is further from the truth than anything, but you still laugh, you always do. How can’t you feel such a dizzying high of joy when you’re together like this? Iwaizumi slips his backpack off his shoulder, presumably to grab a bottle of water, leaving you to admire the view once more. 

Today seems like it was made to be enjoyed, the trail isn’t as humid as it has been before, but it was just as lush, budding with the forest flora of early spring. Hajime noticed this too, in fact, not only is today perfect to enjoy, but he knows for certain it’s perfect for something else. And it’s now or never, he thinks, making sure your back is still turned as he grabs a navy velveted ring box from the front pocket. 

You glance back over your shoulder to make sure Hajime is sharing the view with you, that he too can see how terribly romantic everything can be when you care to notice it. He gulps, quickly tucking his hand behind his back as he comes up to place the other palm on your shoulder with a slight squeeze of affectionate warmth. “So pretty,” you note, knowing it goes without saying. 

Hajime nods, chewing on his lower lip in thought, until he’s unable to fight a shaky grin of excitement. You sigh contentedly, turning to face the sun again, relishing in the spoils of your hard work, and Hajime speaks up once more, “Today is perfect, isn’t it?”

You nod wordlessly, and he stares fondly as ever at the nape of your neck, knowing for certain that anything with you involved will always be perfect. That’s why he’s doing this, isn’t it?

“That’s why I thought today would be nice to ask you this.”

Your brows crease in confusion at the statement, prompting you to glance back over your shoulder again with a hushed hum, only to jump in surprise at the sight of him much lower to the ground than before. A hand flies to clasp at your mouth, Hajime gazes up at you from one knee like you hung the stars in the sky, and in fact, you might as well have. You’re the reason everything in his life is beautiful, why the thought of being without you is worse than death. 

“Don’t cry,” he chuckles adoringly at the sight of you falling apart, knowing it’s hypocritical of him to say with fat tears brimming in his own eyelids. Hajime carefully pops the ring box open, a quivering grin and creased brow are the only things standing between him and weeping.

“You know,” he starts, sniffling, “The only way I want to spend the rest of my life is with you, all I need to be happy is you.”

“Will you let me have the privilege of getting to marry you?”

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔

» Showpony (in the most loving way possible)

» He was going to have an airplane spell “Will You Marry Me?” in the sky before Iwa shut that down 

» Bottom line, he needs this to be as romantic as possible, it’s the most important night of your relationship by far, after all!

» New Years is right around the corner and what’s more romantic than celebrating another loop around the sun with fireworks?

» I’d imagine you two would be in Argentina so on New Years Eve he’ll suggest that you head down to the beach to watch fireworks pop over the city in the distance

» Much to your surprise, there’s already a picnic set up for the two of you upon arrival (this man is so extra. I cannot.)

Fireworks occupy the inky sky in the distance, brilliant, vivid speckles of light begin to dwindle as they fall to the earth. You’re entranced by the display, the dazzling red of another large firework bursts across the sky like stardust, glittering on its way down. And while the celebration is a sight to see, Oikawa couldn’t keep his eyes on it if he tried.

In his opinion, you were countless times more appealing to stare at, the way your eyes light up when another crackling display of gold goes off in the sky, how the flickering lights make the shadows on your face dance. This is something he could never get sick of, it seems. 

“You’re staring.” You mumble under your breath coyly, giving him a cursory once over, then looking back at the fireworks. Oikawa laughs under his breath, “How could I not? You’re stunning.” 

As he expected, you groan playfully, nudging him, “You are the corniest person I’ve ever met!” Tooru likes this bit, the one where he tells you something he wholeheartedly believes and you pretend you don’t hear the pure sincerity when he says it, “It’s true!” He scoffs in mock-offense, “You’re so gorgeous, am I allowed to say that?” Oikawa tilts his head back with a whine. 

You’re looking at him now, still sitting cross-legged on the beach towel; and Oikawa’s bubbly mood quickly goes flat with the realization that you’re not just beautiful, you’re captivating. He’s not sure what he’s done right in order to be sitting on this beach with you, eyes lingering on the way salty sea air blows gusts of wind past you softly, sending your hair to ripple like tendrils of smoke. 

Just in those few seconds, he knows that he can’t wait any longer to ask you to let him have this view for eternity, and he’s hungry to walk straight into the future knowing you won’t stray too far from him wherever the two of you may end up. Tooru sits up straighter, fixing his sweatshirt as he shifts to rest on his knees, raring to figure out how to begin to say what he wants to. 

You’ve since taken notice of his movement, smiling softly in confusion at him while he gives up on fighting the urge to stare at you, brown eyes glimmering with something warm each time another firework bursts in the sky. “Can I make a promise to you?” Oikawa whispers, head tilted. 

With perplexity, you shrug, then smile with a focused eye on his expression, “Sure.” He clutches your hand, “I promise that I will always be here for you, even if you don’t ask me to be there, I will always make sure you know how much I love you,” Oikawa’s voice goes low with uncharacteristic solemnity, and you’re on the verge of asking him what this is all about before he shifts to one knee, bringing a black ring box from behind him to light. 

You can’t help but gasp, sitting back on two knees, face now leveled with his. You can perfectly see his expression soften, melting into something entirely new. Oikawa knows he is falling in love with you all over again, he’s been the head over heels kind of smitten, but now? Now his love has grown to become a need to have you with him in order to continue on living.

“And I…” the box opens, a diamond reflecting the bright colors spilling across the sky enters your watery vision, “I want to be able to make these promises to you at the altar, and I want to spend my life living up to them.” 

“Will you let me keep my promise and marry you?”

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈

» Wants something quiet, you know? When it’s just the two of you guys, it’s most romantic

» You come home after a tiring day of work and he’s doting on you more than usual (which is saying a lot considering you’re the apple of his eye as it is)

» What’s this? Your hunky boyfriend made you pasta dinner? Oh okay.

» GODDDD no matter how many times you two eat together he always pulls the chair out for you even if it’s just at home, he’s subtle in the loudest ways about how much he loves you 

» Actually pretty nervous because doing something like this is so vulnerable and I can see that as something that frightens him a bit

» But it’s you!!! If there’s anyone he’d ever feel comfortable being 100% vulnerable around, it will always have to be you!

“What’s the special occasion?” You had snickered upon entering your dimly-lit apartment, raising your shoulders to make it easier for Kiyoomi, who’d taken to helping you slip out of your coat as soon as he’d finished kissing you hello. Your boyfriend said something along the lines of, “Just wanted to,” with that airy tone of his, donning a grin much larger than usual. 

Sakusa has never, and never will, be able to get over how utterly beautiful you are. Everything you do makes his chest ache with longing, even after having dated for years, he just has accepted that being around you will always make him go weak with adoration. “This is amazing,” you muse, twirling your fork around on the plate for another bite, “I think you should just take over dinner all the time.” 

The two of you laugh amongst yourselves quietly, “I can see it now, I’d love to come home to you in a frilly apron after work,” you add teasingly, tapping his shin with your socked foot under the table.

Kiyoomi simply shakes his head with a humored scoff, “I’m sure you would,” he drawls, taking a thoughtful sip of wine. He still can’t get over it, even thinking about it right now, you are the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon and it’s not fair how easily you can render him speechless. In the candlelight, you remind him of a painting, a set of perfectly carved out features, each one intentionally placed with the utmost amount of care. You’re perfect.

Tonight will be the night that he asks you to please let him devote his life to you, for the simple feeling of him to be able to bask in your radiance. And if that, in your own words, means cooking dinner in a frilly apron for you every night, Kiyoomi struggles to really find any grievances he has with that. 

“I’d gladly do that for you,” Sakusa finally returns, earning a playful quirk of your brows, “Oh?” 

“In fact, you know, I’d really like to do that for you,” Kiyoomi stands up, much to your confusion as he steps to your side of the table. You almost don’t process the way in which he bends over to kiss the crown of your head on his way down to one knee, a hopeful smile on his face. 

“If there’s anything I want you to know, it’s that I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life with you for a long time, now,” Kiyoomi slips a velvet box from his pocket and your jaw goes slack in surprise, a hand traveling to grasp at the collar of your blouse. 

“You’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with because you’re my best friend,” he says, voice faltering with a sudden onslaught of emotions, “And I think…I know that I exist to love you.”

You’re unable to speak, breath caught in your throat and hot tears threatening to overflow onto your warm cheeks, his voice comes out solemn and intentional, “I want to be able to love you for all the time that I’m able to.”

Kiyoomi presents the ring to you, a question he’s been dying to ask you for years forming on his lips as they part to ask it, “Will you marry me?”

[beforeimdeceased]

I would love an ellie x reader x abby fic, something super smutty, but modern day. I don’t mind unique details, I will give your free reign on those I just want something powerbottom abby x masc top ellie.

click me!

um okay. so this is actually so unnecessarily long like why did i do that also it’s terrible please don’t beat me up okay :( it’s um definitely something guys if u hate it i’ll delete it I SWEAR I SWEAR

inexperienced!lesbian (me asf) reader x ellabs, reader orgasm, lowkey mean ellabs but ignore that, i didn’t even do the request properly everyone throw tomatoes at me :(

2k words!

nsfw!

‧₊˚ 🎐✩ 🫧 ₊˚⊹♡

The time on your phone flashed 11pm, and underneath it was a flash flood weather warning. You had been watching the news closely and carefully, but even they didn’t predict this.

“I thought they said it would clear up around 10.” Ellie joins you on the couch, a bag of fruit gummies in her hand. You nod, but don’t take your eyes off of your phone. “That’s what i thought too. I don’t know, maybe I can make it home before it gets too bad.”

Just as the words leave your mouth, Abby walks back into the living room. She rips a piece of paper towel off of the stand in the kitchen, drying her hands. “Or you could spend the night here and not end up swimming home.”

Ellie snort laughs but you bite your lip. “I don’t want to intrude. Suddenly having someone else in your private space for longer than planned? Sounds overstimulating.”

Abby joins the both of you in the living room, a bottle of water in hand. She plops herself down on the loveseat, manspreading and leaning back. You feel a knot twist in your stomach. “I don’t mind having you here for longer. Els?”

Ellie tosses a gummy in her mouth before responding. “You’re a pleasure to be around.”

Abby and Ellie wanted to ease your nerves a bit, and proposed a game of two truths and a lie. Fairly simple, you tell a person two truths and one lie about yourself and they have to guess the lie. A half hour had passed and you felt yourself loosening up around them. Laughing at how ridiculous they were being.

“No, i swear it’s the truth. I shook hands with him and everything.” Ellie holds her hands up innocently, insisting she didn’t lie.

Abby shakes her head, bringing a hand up to rub her temples. “Ellie, you did not meet a robot at the grocery store. That man was probably lying to you for fun, or some social experiment.”

You giggle, watching as Ellie put a gummy to her tongue to wet it, then throws it at Abby. “Youre a jerk.”

Suddenly, Abby has lifted herself from her seat and is tickling Ellie’s sides. All of you have burst into laughter, tears rolling down your cheeks at their dynamic.

After Abby’s satisfied with herself, she lets up on Ellie, joining you both on the couch. “Okay, your turn.” Abby looks over at you, placing one of Ellie’s gummies in her mouth.

You take a moment to think of something clever, biting your lip. “Hm.”

“Okay I got it!” You exclaim.

The girls grant you their undivided attention, anticipating your answers. “Okay, so. I’m bilingual. I’m allergic to certain coins and, i’ve never been kissed.”

The two look over at each other, confusion all over their faces. “Fuck.” Ellie leans back. “I’m gonna have to say you’re lying about the coins.”

Abby shakes her head, shooting Ellie a side eye. “Seriously? The last one is obviously a lie, I mean look at her.” You feel yourself growing shy at her statement. “You guys sure about your answers?” You smile, raising your eyebrows.

They both nod, creepily at the same time, and it makes you laugh before your reveal. “I’m not bilingual! English is the only language i speak fluently, but i have been taking some Swedish lessons.”

Ellie bobs her head. “Shit, that’s cool. So wait, what coins are you allergic to?”

You don’t even get the chance to answer before Abby chimes up. “Wait, you’ve never been kissed?” She stares at you, bewildered. “Seriously?”

You nod. “I’m pretty inexperienced. I ofcourse, don’t like men, and I came out pretty late so…” You trail.

You can actually see the devious gears turn in Ellie’s mind. She looks over at Abby and it’s as if they’re communicating with their minds. You wonder for a moment if people truly do have powers, because it seems they came to a very silent agreement just now.

“Abby’s a wonderful kisser.” Ellie blurts out, smiling at the blonde. “And a pretty damn good teacher.”

Maybe they didn’t agree on everything, because after that statement Abby shot Ellie a look that could kill. Ellie just laughed it off, lovingly tapping her shoulder.

“Oh.” You whisper nervously, unsure how to respond. Truthfully, you had been admiring the two of them ever since you’d met them. You were so eager to visit their apartment tonight, making sure to spray on your best perfume. Wearing a cute new outfit that was casual but not loungey. Planning it on a day where you knew the weather would be bad, all with the hope that you’d get to spend the night.

You were also nervous, and inexperienced in this department. What if you fucked it all up?

“I’m sorry if we’ve made you uncomfortable.” Abby chimes up, noticing your body language. You were fiddling with your hands, avoiding their gaze. “I’ll make Ellie sleep in the old doghouse outside if that’d make you feel better.”

You giggle as Ellie hits Abby’s shoulder. “Hey, not out in the rain. Maybe in the closet in the hallway.”

“Oh, you’re going back in the closet?” Abby laughs which causes Ellie to roll her eyes. You watch them stick their tongues out at each other and feel warmth in their friendship.

“You guys didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just didn’t know what to say.” You blurt. The two of them stop goofing and look over at you. Ellie’s got a smug face. “Do you want Abby to teach you how to kiss?”

Butterflies, a swarm of them, rush to your stomach. You try not to look her up and down but your eyes betray you. Soaking in Abby’s tall muscular figure. The way her legs are spread open and wide like she’s daring you to sit in between them. Her blue eyes burning holes into your skin. Anticipating your answer. You bite your lip. “Yes.”

Abby remains composed, but Ellie’s enjoying herself way too much. Moving to the loveseat so that you and Abby can have the couch to yourselves. She looks at both of you, then at you, then at Abby, then at you again. “Wait, do you want me to go-?“

“No.” You say, a little faster than you mean to. “I mean, you don’t have to leave, if you don’t want to.”

Abbys only focused on you now. Eyeing you up and down as you scoot closer to her. “Here, get comfortable. Straddle me.”

You know Ellie’s looking. You can feel her piercing eyes on your spine. Watching your every move, examining you from behind. “Straddle?” You ask, a bit unsure. You’d read the word in a couple books, but never looked up the definition. You realized that was damning you now. Fucking up this very moment.

“Sit on my lap, facing me.” Abby guides you. “Put your legs outside my legs.”

So this was the tummy turning move you’d seen in porn. It felt as good as you’d imagined it would. Your hands latch onto Abby’s shoulders, looking into her pretty blue eyes.

“You okay?” She asks, hands gripping onto your waist to steady you. Her fingers are brushing against the skin underneath the hem of your shirt and the contact is driving you crazy. You just nod, too afraid to open your mouth, knowing your words will spill out. You’re everything but composed right now.

“Okay. Just let me know if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” She smiles.

You nod again, and establish an understanding. She moves a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in, and places a soft peck on your lips. Truthfully, it wasn’t all that exciting but it sent jolts and waves of pleasure through your body. Your first kiss. She pulls away and smiles at you. “How was that?”

“Great- good. Grood.” You stammer. She chuckles a bit and you feel hot with embarrassment. “I meant to say- Fuck i don’t even know.”

She rubs at your sides, licking her lips and looking at you with low eyes. “Don’t worry about it, alright? You ready for more?”

“Yeah.” you breathe, head growing fuzzy from her touch. Her fucking touch, fuck. Gentle, but firm. Guiding you so carefully. So kindly.

“Okay. Open your mouth a little bit.” She whispers inches away from your face. “Yeah, just like that.”

You feel like you’re about to melt, a moan stuck in your throat, swallowed by the blonde. Her lips meshing with yours, guiding the kiss. The hand on your hip gripping tighter. She thrusts a bit, attempting to pull you in closer, and you whine into her mouth. This causes her to dig her nails into your skin, scratching at the tender surface.

By now, you’d forgotten Ellie was still in the room. You’d forgotten where you were, actually. Completely lost in a state of bliss. Her tongue on yours, teeth nibbling at your lip, touch making you weak.

She pulls away for air, and you remain leaning forward. Missing her lips on yours.

“Someone’s eager.” She teases. You bite your lip, scratching your nails on her scalp. “Sorry.” you breathe in a low voice. She shakes her head, tutting and rubbing your cheek. “Don’t apologize, it’s cute.”

Abby calls Ellie over, and you can feel her dip into the couch next to you both. Her cheeks are a flushed red and her eyes look fixated on you.

“Where are you the most sensitive?” Abby asks, shooting a small smile to Ellie.

“Why don’t we let me find out? Is that okay?” Ellie asks. You nod, breath growing heavy. There’s no fucking way this is real, you’re dreaming. You have to be. These two are working together to get you worked up.

You can sense Ellie behind you before you feel her hand slide under your neck. Fingertips on your chin, leaning your head to the side. She places a kiss behind your ear and it makes you shudder. “Fuck.”

They both laugh. This evil, menacing, condescending laugh and it’s making your thighs clench on Abby’s legs. “Ellie, you’re teasing the poor thing. She can’t handle it.” Abby places her hands on your thighs, spreading them apart as they were before.

“She can handle anything we give her, right?” Ellie’s moving her lips further down now. Trailing hot wet kisses down your neck, hands sliding up to grab your breasts through your shirt. You throw your head back, a soft whine escaping your lips.

“She’s so sensitive because she’s never been touched. Bet we can make her come without ever having to take her clothes off.” Abby’s hands begin sliding up and down your inner thighs. You feel a wetness pool in your underwear. “You’re probably right Abs. She’s already so worked up and we’ve barely done anything.”

Are they…mocking you? They’re fucking mocking you.

Ellie hums against your neck, hands slipping down to your leg, making you straddle Abby’s thigh. Abby places her hands back on your waist, hiking up your leg and making you grind against her.

You whine, head falling back against Ellie’s shoulder, but she offers no comfort or sanctuary. Hands kneading your tits while she leaves wet kisses on your jaw. “She’s probably soaked right now.” Ellie breathes.

Abby nods, admiring the way you give into their touch. So willing to be their fucktoy. She looks down at your crotch and hums. “She’s got a wet spot on her pants.”

“Such a shame. They look brand new. Now you’ve made a mess of yourself.”

It’s embarrassing to admit it, but you’re close now. The way your slick has covered your panties and is spreading all over your clit, Abby’s hands on your waist grinding you against her, Ellie’s mouth on you. Her hands on you. The way they’re talking about you like you’re not even there.

“I’m gonna-“ Can barely leave you lips before your climax hits you. You shake, dig your nails into Abby’s shoulder. Cry out an “Oh god, fuck!” and roll your eyes back as they help you ride your high.

Your body goes limp while you try to catch your breath. Everything is sensitive and you feel like you’d just seen stars.

“You did so good, baby.” Abby leans in to kiss you, and then Ellie behind you. “Ready for round two?”

Round what?

[lemonmaid]

Imagine being Sukuna's mate before his reign of terror.

Warnings: angst, omegaverse, gender neutral reader, Heian period, this was rushed, kinda child neglect

Imagine being Sukuna's mate during the Heian period.

Meeting him before he was a curse. When he was human, mating with him right before he became a curse and began his regin of terror.

Then it takes two words for Sukuna to leave, (or hence send (Name) far far away in the mountains with only a small staff).

"I'm pregnant".

After that, (Name) was sent away. (Name) thought of it as Sukuna's way to protect them and their child.

But Sukuna saw it as a way to keep a distraction far away from his plans. He couldn't kill his own mate without effecting his own body, after all.

(Name) gave birth to Yuuji, giving the young pup their last name.

(Name) dropped but since they had Yuuji a switch in their brain made them care for the pup but not be there emotionally. But their own scent was very VERY dim, to the point where Yuuji was a pup he would sob for hours on end being understimmulated. (Name) couldn't feel stressed or hopeless, they would just stare at Yuuji until he cried himself to sleep.

(Name) got worst, year by year. (Name) stopped talking when Yuuji turned seven.

It wasn't untill Yuuji got his second gender when he turned 13, (Name) finally had the strength to speak again to him.

"Suk-"

Yuuji's eyes brighten up, rushing to his (mom'/dad's) bedside. Yuuji grasp his (mom's/dad's) hand, "No, (mom/dad) it's me, Yuuji-"

(Name) slowly turned their head towards Yuuji, smiling softy, "Yuu....promise me this".

"Yes (mama/papa)?".

"Never love someone as much as I love your father... mating... is the real-".

(Name) finally dropped on Yuuji's own birthday... the village doctor concluded that they had fell into a comatose state.

Yuuji mourned their (mom/dad) that day. Leaving his childhood home, set out to find someone who could help his parent.

Instead he found resistance fights against his father's rule; where they taught him how to use curse techniques, how to put curse energy into weapons.

"Yuuji, I heard a rumor when I went into town this week".

"Yeah? Rumors are rumors, so what? Toda-".

"If you kill a person's mate while they dropped, it could bring them back".

Yuuji felt something inside him snapped, like all the pieces of a puzzle was complete, the stars aligning. Everything made sense.

"Why do you come here brat?" Sukuna glared at the 15 year old from his throne.

Yuuji bit his lip, staring at the man above him; his father, in front of him.

Sukuna looked unamused, "Well. You've demanded an audience with me, no? You've killed my own curses? What have you come here, boy? "

Yuuji clutched the katana in his hands, 'why I am shaking'

"I'm not going to-"

"(Name)".

Sukuna instinctively flinched before resuming his movements. His mating mark burned with irritation.

"What brings you. Answer before I'll kill you".

Yuuji let out a broken laugh, "After all this time? Are they still your weakness?".

Sukuna dashed towards Yuuji. His eyes glowing red eyes, gripping the boy by the throat and pinning him to the wall. "Speak boy!".

Yuuji winced, "I made a promise to them".

Sukuna glared at Yuuji, squeezing his neck tighter.

"I promise (mama/papa) that I'll fucking kill you".

[hunnidmilly]

thru’ ya nose. r.r +millytober+

parings: dom!roman reigns x sub!blackreader

warnings; throat fucking, tears, usage of pet names, near choking, cursing, (18+ MDNI)

“you okay?” he breathed out, pulling himself from your throat

not being able to speak in your current state you just nodded. tears and snot running down your face, and long spit strings still connecting your mouth to his dick. you let out a few coughs before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

you sat on the floor against the bed with your head positioned towards the celling, roman’s body drenched in sweat as he towered over you, his thickness swinging in your face coated in your wetness.

“you gotta breathe thru’ your nose baby, m’kay? that’s the only way it’ll work. you need to learn, princess.” he caressed your hair as he leaned down to wipe your tears from your cheeks. he knew you were still up in the air—wanting to try something knew, and eager to please him, you didn’t really anticipate how much further it could go.

he’d so badly been wanting to train you at swallowing his dick whole, but it was hard enough to wrap your fist around him, why would you think it’d be easy for it to fit inside your throat? you only wanted to make him proud.

as if reading your thoughts, “you know how proud i am of you, baby girl? hm? taking my dick so far like that, you wanna try again?”

“y—yea.” you hiccuped with a small smile to assure him

he raised back to his full height, staring down at you with hooded eyes. he licked his lips and wrapped his massive hand around himself, yanking on the fat head a few times before pushing back between your swollen lips into your warm mouth.

“s—shit,” he choked out “breathe thru’ your nose, relax your throat.”

he placed a hand on the back of his hip to push himself further into your mouth, right into your throat. your throat immediately reacted at the tight fit, tears clouding your vision again. roman made sure to leave a small space, right before your nose would press against his well shaved area, for you to breathe.

you took a regulated breathe through your nose and coached your body to relax. your eyes traveled up your mans body; his defined stomach and chest, to his face. he stared down at you with a parted mouth pushing out harsh breaths.

roman was losing his fuckin mind; yea, your pussy was always tight and wet, but nothing could compare to the feel of your tongue pressed firmly against his dick as your mouth expanded pass limits to take him.

he sucked in a breath before slowly moving his hips back and forth. the ridge of the fat mushroomed tip moving deeper into your throat, creating repeated choking noises. roman pushed his hips down into your nose, his dick now lodged in the middle of your throat.

your legs thrashed around at the intrusion. you closed your eyes and focused hard to not choke around him.

“shit, princess! you look so fuckin’ pretty like this. my dick inside your mouth. i love this shit, wish i could take a picture.”

he started bucking his hips in and out your mouth again, before you reached up to hold onto his hips, “no, no, no, no hands, baby. you’re okay, baby girl. you can take it. don’t ever doubt yourself, mmhm?”

your hands fell back to the floor. you braced yourself before starting to slurp his dick up. you wanted to feel his cum in your tongue, and asap. you hallowed your jaw before moving further to press his dick back into your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks.

his breathing speeded up rapidly; he was about to shoot up right into your mouth. he placed his hands on your cheek, stilling your head, as his dick harshly drove into your mouth. you nails digging into your thighs, to prevent your hands from pushing against him to pullout.

you wanted to show him you could do this. and you could.

“i’m about to cum right in this mouth, baby. you want my cum right in that throat? shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty baby. mouth just full of my dick.”

his eyes squeezed shut, the feeling of your throat contracting around his dick, attempting to push it out, took him damn near to heaven. his toes even started to cramp as they repeatedly popped, his stomach beginning to tighten up. your gagging and choking became more intense and louder. your spit beginning to pool at the corners of your mouth and legs thrashing around.

with a few more pumps, he roared towards the celling as his cum jetted out into your mouth. he continued to move in and out making sure he emptied himself completely, before pulling out. you took in a deep breath, trying to drag back the air that you lost. he reached over to grab the warm towel he laid on the dresser earlier, and reached down to wipe your face clean. he placed small kisses all over your face as your breathing slowly returned to normal.

“you did perfect, baby girl. i’m so proud of you. yea? you made me feel so damn good, princess.” he whispered pressing soft kisses on your cheeks.

ᰔᩚ:@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine

@angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23

@empressdede @trentybenty @shes2real

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[jam3sacaster]

“I’m gonna have ‘ta punish ya’.”

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by darling anon 🫶🏽 / You and Declan butt heads, and then some…

Set just after the pageant, messed with the timeline a lil i think but I managed to work the punch in another way <3

18+ FANFIC / SMUT GALORE, angsty & lots of swearing. Fairly long and very HEAVY smut, sorry x Declan you horny bastard, we love you. Reader character aged 21.

As always, request what you wanna see in the ask box 💋

“I can’t just stop working for Corinium, Declan. You cannot just waltz into my life and expect me to give everything up for you!” You shout, feeling rage seep through your veins. Declan and Rupert have been cooking up a ridiculous idea within an hour, desperate to overthrow Baddingham’s Machiavellian reign of television. “They have my balls in a fuckin’ vice, my love,”

“No, they HAVEN’T! You have thrown a ridiculous temper tantrum, on television, because you are so determined to get your own way because you’re a selfish, stubborn bastard.” You interject, slamming your reddened palms on the dinner table, face contorting in fury. “They want me to sell my fuckin’ soul, babe. To sit and judge these fuckin’ superficial pageants whilst that cunt Vereker gets MY spot on my fuckin’ show.” The Irishman bellows, leaning across the table and pointing his finger dangerously close to your face. Declan O’Hara is fucking scary when he’s angry, but my God is he sexy.

Rupert leans against the counter top, remaining silent in embarrassment. It was certainly better for everyone that way. Steaming with rage, you sit back in your seat, stray hairs sticking to the beading sweat on your forehead. “You can’t keep behaving like this, Declan. Like a fucking child.” You tut, avoiding eye contact with him. Declan frustratedly rakes a hand through his slicked hair before pouring himself an intoxicatingly large unit of whiskey. “I’m sure you can coax Tony into some amicable solution. It’s blatant he wants to fuck you. He would do anything for someone willing to open their legs for him.” Rupert pipes up and gestures towards you, cigarette smoke creating an ashy veil across his face. An excruciating silence ensued. Your eyes widened in absolute horror — Declan would certainly not take kindly to this joke. Rupert should’ve kept his mouth shut.

“You fucking what?” Declan asked him, walking towards him slowly, eyes frenzied with wrath. “Calm down, Declan, it was just a joke.” Rupert chuckled, offering his hands up in defeat. “What did ya’ fuckin’ say?” Declan asked again, containing to walk towards him until they were nose-to-nose. Another incredibly painful silence— even Rupert didn’t dare speak. After a few seconds, he opened his mouth to speak but Declan swung at him, landing a brutal punch with a wet smack. “DECLAN.” You bellow, grabbing his muscular arm and pulling him towards you. “Get out, Rupert. I’m so sorry, but just go home.” You shake your hands frantically as Rupert pulls himself from the floor and ushers himself out, clutching his face in agony.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” You scream, voice croaking under the pressure. You push Declan away from you as soon as you hear the front door click. “Ya’ t’ink I’m gonna let him talk about ‘ya like ‘dat? Talk about ‘ya spreadin’ ya’ legs for tha’ CUNT Tony?” Declan matches your enraged tone, pacing around the kitchen table but maintaining eye contact with you. You couldn’t reply to this. He was wildly protective of you — often infuriatingly so, but he could barely stand to see another man so much as look at you. Rupert’s joke was way too far.

“My job is turnin’ me into a fuckin’ laughin’ stock, you t’ink I’m a joke and you’re wavin’ your fuckin’ arse around in front of Tony.” He howled again, enraging himself with his own words. “Oh, fuck off Declan.” You spit, pushing yourself out of your chair and beginning to abandon the kitchen. “Don’t walk away from me.” He tuts, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You scream and the words can barely leave your mouth — a pathetic mixture of anger and despair. “I am fucking sick of you!” You immediately regret the words as Declan’s top lip curls in vexation. Oh fuck.

•

He hurtles towards you, pushing you towards the wall and almost taking you off of your feet. You close an eye, internally preparing yourself for the crescendo of noise he is about to create. Instead, he collides his lips onto yours, grunting in annoyance as his tongue pushes his way into your mouth. Feeling yourself melt under his touch, Declan’s hand rides under your blouse, ripping it off from the inside and exposing your bare chest — perky breasts wobbling with the force and nipples hard from arousal. The bristles of his moustache send a quiver down your spine as he kisses down your chest before taking your left nipple into his mouth: swirling around the pink bud and sucking it softly. A stifled whimper escapes your lift as you lift your hand to his trousers, rubbing across his hardening bulge.

“Bend over.” Declan demands, pulling away from you and pushing you gently towards the dining table. Hesitantly, you do as you’re told and bend over the table, skirt riding up your thighs. Not that it matters too much, as it was promptly yanked down, exposing your bare arse to the man that owned it. Running his rough hand across the right cheek, Declan smacked it firmly, the harsh noise of skin on skin reverberating across the room. “Ya’ do know I’m gonna have ta’ punish ya’.” He growled, readying his hand for another firm smack. “Mhm hmm.” You whisper, nodding your head, consenting softly. Another unyielding smack made you yelp with aching pressure — a reddened hand print beginning to take form. “Oh fuck.” He groaned, lowering himself to your level and biting firmly into your arse, pleasure taking control of his entire conscience. You keep your eyes firmly pressed shut, awaiting the next smack. Instead, you chomp down on your lip as you hear Declan’s zipper, and the subsequent sound of his trousers dropping to the ground.

“Do ya’ want it?” The Irishman questioned, teasing your slick entrance with the head of his painfully erect cock. You could feel yourself practically dripping as he placed a firm hand onto your waist. “Yes…” You breathlessly moan, pushing yourself towards him, aching to feel his girth inside you. “Yes, what?” He growled. “Yes… Daddy.” You whimper once more, desperation overtaking you.

“Good girl.” Declan praised, and pushed the full length of his cock into you, but thrusted slowly in and out. “Oh, fuck.” You wail, as the walls of your vagina grip him like a vice, already aching with the girth of his dick. “Ya’ like that? Do I feel good stretchin’ ya’ out?” He asks, grabbing a fistful of your hair and increasing his tempo with every wet smack of your arse against his pelvis. Eyes rolling back in ecstasy, teeth firmly planted into your bottom lip, mind fuzzy — you must definitely cannot muster a reply. “Tell me, girl. Tell me how good I feel inside ya’.” He asks again, hand reaching under to stroke your clit, coaxing you even closer to orgasm. Declan lolled his head back, pumping harder inside you as his fingers worked their rugged magic. “So fucking good, Daddy.” You manage to muster a reply.

“Ya’ so fuckin’ wet. Wrapped around my cock. Look at ya’ bouncin’ on my dick like a good fuckin’ whore.” Your lover groaned under your heat as he pounded into you, but the tension twisting inside your stomach was too much to bare. “Dec..Declan, I’m gonna…” You begin, but you feel him pull out in preparation.

The repetitive pounding of his enlarged cock on your g-spot left you in a dazed mess as you squirted onto the kitchen floor, legs trembling insanely throughout your orgasm. Declan watched the obscene mess he’d created with a terrible smirk on his face, full of adoration. “Good girl,” He affirmed again, “Look at the mess you’ve made for Daddy. Fuckin’ good girl.” He thrusted into you again, tempo increasing, hungry for his own release. “Are ya’ gonna let me cum inside ya?’ He asked, but he needn’t. You were already pleading with him to fill you with his seed. You needed to feel his hot, sweet cum inside of you.

“Please. I need it, Daddy. Please fill me up.” You begged, feeling Declan’s cock twitching inside you. The gratifying groans leaving his mouth prompted you to reach under your legs and stroke his cum-filled balls, luring him to ecstasy. “Fuck. Get ready, princess. I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

Bracing yourself to feel his warmth inside you, you kept your hands wrapped round his balls whilst pushing your arse into him, goading him to go faster. Spurts of hot cum covered the walls of your pussy, each rope accompanied with a pleasurable groan — absolute music to your ears. “Ahh, fuck.” Declan murmured, pulling his cock from your pussy and pausing for a moment to watch a droplet of his seed drip from your walls.

“Well done, my girl. You’ve fuckin’ milked me dry.” He chuckled to himself, slapping your arse once more playfully and huffing to himself.

[velvrei]

Oh, so glad that your requests are open again! You're doing a great job and your writing is so good so take the time you need and stay hydrated!

Maybe could I request Logan with a strong/buff reader? Maybe she lifts him up and logan kinda likes that and being pampered by reader? So yeah I'm a sucker of sub Logan..

you guys r so sweet :)

please me (18+)

pairing: logan howlett x fem!strong!reader

summary: logan meets you, who is very strong, and has the power to control people if she has enough energy. you control him for the first time and it brings out a subby side in him.

warnings: absolute filth, smut, sub!logan, he gets a bit dominant at times but remains sub mostly, porn with small plot, lots of pet names, logan is obsessed with you it’s attractive, logan jerks off in the beginning to the thought of you

word count: 4k

you were sparring. sparring.

logan first met you through a fight. you were new, and he was your opponent.

it was no secret that you were strong as hell, especially to logan. during that first fight, logan couldn’t help but find himself cocky in the beginning, sure he would win.

but when you brought out your hidden strength, and picked him up, and threw him to the ground, he excepted his loss. and excepted the fact his pants were tightening.

he looked up at you, so desperate, and you could see it in his eyes, but you chose to use that against him another day.

ever sense that day, he’s been making up excuses to see you. hoping that somehow, you’d handle him like that again.

it was pathetic, he knew that. he was ashamed, but he couldn’t hold in his sexual urges.

so one night, he got off to the thought of you controlling him. fuck, it was dirty, but he loved it.

he pumped his hard, aching cock, imagining you talking him through it. he was creepy for this, he knew, but he didn’t fucking care.

his hips rut into his messy comforter, hoping for any sort of friction as he became truly desperate. his hand worked up and down on his dick, precum leaking out.

he moaned into his hand as the other moved up and down. he bit down onto his palm, trying to silence himself, knowing your room was only a few doors down, part of him hoped you’d hear, come in and take care of him.

the next day, he was forced to train with you again, hiding his hard on, trying to forget the fact that the night before he was stroking his cock to the thought of you.

you weren’t one to say anything this early, but you could tell by how he acted around you. he was not the normal wolverine.

he acted so differently around others than he did with you. around you, he found himself shyer than usual, letting you take the reigns, especially during training.

this time, it was different. the day after he got himself to the thought of you. he was whiny, too whiny, and you knew something was up, and decided to tease him about it.

you two were sparring, as usual. you were winning, also as usual. you were sparring, minutes before he had you in a headlock, then let you go, now, you got him, threw him down, and straddled his body.

he felt his throat run dry, unable to form words as your body pressed against his. you smiled down at him, feeling his dick grow in his pants under you.

“something, wrong, bub?” you always knew just what to say, and fuck, it always got to him. he swallowed, looking as more of a gulp to you, causing your smile to grow.

he didn’t answer, and you decided to speak again.

“cat got your tongue?” you teased, watching as his body shifted under you.

you watched the look in his eyes change from desperate to another emotion, that you couldn’t quite find the word for.

“no.” is all he cracked out, eyes never leaving yours.

at this point, it was almost night time, all the others heading to bed for another day of training and teaching. you two, however, were still in the ring, all over each other.

“got anything else to say?” your cocky words almost made him whine, he tried his hardest not to adjust his hips, so his clothed dick was closer to your clothed pussy. he was aching for it.

he finally adjusted his hips, rubbing you in just the right spot. you decided to tease him a little, so you moaned at the feeling.

he heard it loud and clear, eyes shooting to your face, catching a glimpse of your face as you made such sound. he almost whimpered. what the fuck was happening?

he studies your face for a moment. “oh.” is all he says, feeling his dick harden in his pants.

you let your tongue run along your teeth before smiling. “what? that get you hard?”

your words almost sent him to cardiac arrest, eyes widening. “wha?” his attempt at acting clueless made you giggle.

“don’t play dumb, bub.” is all you say, before standing up, offering him a hand to help him up.

as he takes your offer and stands, your eyes trail down to his jeans, seeing the incredibly large bulge in his pants.

you bit your lip, eyes trailing up and down his body. his little cunty leather jacket he was wearing hugged him so well, and his tight training joggers left nothing to your imagination.

he was fucking huge.

“follow me.” you didn’t have to tell him twice.

you grabbed him by his jacket, taking him out of the training room.

he didn’t even have the thought to ask where, he just was hoping he could get his hands on you.

you went to your room, a few rooms down from his. you opened the door, allowing both of you in then locking it behind you. you turned to him, pressing your back into the door.

your smile never faded, watching his nervous figure fidget with his fingers.

“you dirty boy. all we were doing was training, and you were hard..” he sighs at your words, eyes scrunching shut as his head falls slightly lower.

you smile, before imagining him on the bed, using your powers and he teleports onto the bed. he’s sat on his knees, looking like a lost dog, his eyes reminding you of a deer in headlights.

“what…?” he’s so confused at how he ended up on the bed, however his eyes are still glued to you.

“you haven’t seen all my powers, yet, bub. i can control people. just takes a lot of energy so i don’t do it often. but i don’t care i’m having my fun tonight.”

he shivers at your words, watching as you stride toward him. your hand finds his chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“look at me when i speak to you, baby.”

he moans, almost forgetting your words but he keeps his eyes on yours. “yes ma’am. okay.”

you smile, leaning down and kissing his face. he moans immediately, knowing he’d been imagining this moment sense the minute he met you.

you slowly push his body back, straddling him once again, you watch his body tremble.

you slowly continue to kiss him, gently biting his lip and enjoying hud moan that comes after. your hips start to move against his, feeling him twitch under you.

“yeah? that feel good?” he moaned, hands grasping to touch any part of your body he could.

“yes, fuck yes, please, touch me.” your hands move in between your bodies, slowly palming him through his pants. he whined as you touched him, hands squeezing your thighs as his head fell against the pillows behind him.

you just watched him tremble under your touch with a satisfied smile, slowly starting to unzip your training jacket that hugged your figure.

when his eyes opened, he was met with you, taking off your jacket, leaving you in nothing but your pants and skimpy bra.

he groaned at the sighed, hands roaming up to touch your chest. “so pretty,” he whispered. “can i touch?”

you smiled at his question and nodded. you unclipped your bra, letting it fall, watching his eyebrows raise. you grabbed his hands and placed them onto your breasts.

he squeezed, moaning as he did so, his hips rutting against you. “you like that?” your question wasn’t meant to be a tease, but it sounded more taunting than you meant.

you smiled and started to fuck back his hips, watching as he moaned, overstimulated.

you slowly sat him up. “strip.” he wastes no time once you get off and lay on the bed next to him. he stands, stripping completely naked, making you smile.

“you can take mine off for me.” for most guys that would seem like a chore, but for logan, it was a reward.

he’d been waiting so fucking long and he was finally able to touch you.

he crawls back onto the bed, toward you, kissing your thigh before lifting you up and taking off your bottoms and panties, moaning at the sight of your soaked pussy.

you smile. “been so wet at the thought of you finally touching me.”

he moaned at your words, feeling his body tremble. “you’ve been thinking of me?” his voice is soft, as he slowly grabs his dick, and rubs against your folds.

you turn him over, getting on top of him with a smile. his dick is aching in front of you, as he presses against your stomach. he moans as the slight contact, almost bucking his hips up.

“yeah, been thinking about you, bout all the naughty things i could do to you,” and with that logan’s body trembles, precum leaking from his tip.

you smile and touch his cheek before taking him into your hand. you stroke him a few times before lining him up and slowly sinking down.

both of you moaned in unison, as you went all the way down. “so fucking big, filling me so good,” your words of praise cause his lips to quiver and a whimper to fall out.

he whined again before speaking, “so tight..” his voice was just above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine.

you sat there with his dick fully inside of you, to give yourself a minute to adjust, before slowly letting up, and sinking back down.

your back arched as you did so, watching as logan’s hands came to your thighs. you started to make a rhythm making your legs already shake.

“fuck!” you shouted, trying to contain your yelling so the team didn’t hear, so you moan into your hand, trying to bite on it to stop yourself from screaming.

logan watched as you struggled, ultimately making it even harder for him to focus, his dick twitching inside of you.

you started to bounce on him, his dick hitting a spot so deep inside of you, your eyes rolled back on their own.

“fuck, taking me so good,” logan grunted, starting to get some of his dominance back but still willing to let you take the reigns.

he smiled up at you, watching as you bounced, smacking your ass and loving how your trembled as he did so.

you bit your lip to try and silence yourself, before letting some of your filthy words spill out for him to hear.

“feels so good, lo,” you whine, hands now on his chest as you bit your lip, almost drawing blood.

the sound was filthy. your ass slapping against him, the wet sound of his dick sliding in and out of you, and the gentle sounds the two of you let out in attempt to remain quiet.

your eyes fluttered back, and when you came back to look at him, you were met with logan’s blissed out face.

his mouth hung open, as his shirtless body glistened in sweat, his eyes looking at the ceiling, trying to compose himself from how good you felt around him.

you smiled and leaned down, kissing his face, feeling him twitch inside you as you did so.

when you pulled away, logan growled, like a hungry animal. he wanted to devour you, but right now, he was truly getting off to the fact you were in control of him. he felt helpless, and he fucking loved it.

you smiled down at him, some of your hair sticking to your face, logan smiled at the sight of you, boobs bouncing, your fucked our face and how good your body looked as you rode him.

his hand trailed up to your lower stomach, pressing and feeling him as he moved in and out of you.

“so big i can feel you in my stomach, fuck,” even if that wasn’t true, you were just saying shit at this point. logan moaned out, loud.

you smiled down at him, and brought a hand down to his face, covering his mouth. your eyes shot into his, practically daring him to make another noise.

your sudden act of dominance made him whine into your hand, feeling his dick twitch inside of you.

he must’ve really liked the control you had over him, because right after you covered his lips he spilled his loud into you.

his face went slightly red as he realized what happened, and you moaned as you felt his load spill inside of you.

“was that good, huh?” you say teasing him, and he whines, feeling guilty that he came before you.

not even a minute later, he flipped you both around, and started drilling into you. your back arched and your chest pressed up against him, causing him to smile.

“sorry bub, couldn’t help myself when you were squeezing me like that.” logan’s whiny words almost made you giggle, because you knew you were doing it on purpose, so his words were just confirmation for him.

you moaned as he drilled into you, the urge to scream making you get close to your climax. your eyes fluttered shut, and logan’s hand came up to your chin.

“look at me when you cum for me,” he says, watching as you moaned, then deciding to stay decently submissive because he knew how much it turned you on, “please,” he added at the end.

you moaned as his hand came down and messed with your clit, rubbing it in aggressive circles, before watching you cum on his cock.

your body shook, and you moaned, louder than he expected, so he covered your mouth, slowing his thrusts to let you ride out your high. his lips were on your neck, talking you through your high.

“love when you clench around me like that. you’re an angel, you know that? so good. made me feel so good. so fucking pretty.” his words of praise left you moaning in his hand, and when you both finally caught your breath, you smiled at each other.

“hi.” you said, making him giggle.

“hi, bub.” he says sweetly.

the sweet moment is ruined when he looks down and notices the mixed cum spilling out of your pussy and onto the bedsheets.

both of you moaned at the sight.

when you two finally came back to your senses, and after you cleaned him up, and he cleaned you up, you were laying in bed together, just enjoying the peaceful company of each other.

[trulyumai]

belittling the reign

synopsis: the people began to doubt Geta, and in return, so did members of the senate. The emperor began to act wildly, his temper just a reach away. It all came crashing down when a man of the senate brought the empress up and how she would fall with the emperor.

pairing: Emperor geta / empress! reader

Warnings: Violence, anger, choking, death. Protectiveness/Possessive.

The room was dim, save for the flicker of torchlight dancing across the stone walls. Geta sat at the long table, his goblet half-full, eyes fixed on the dull gleam of his dagger. He had been deep in thought, tired from the endless political maneuvering of the Senate, when the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his silence.

The door creaked open, and a figure entered—Marcus, a senator known for his sharp tongue and sharper ambitions. Geta didn’t look up as the man approached, choosing instead to swirl the dark wine in his cup.

“Geta,” Marcus began, his voice oozing with false politeness. “I trust you’re well this evening.”

Geta grunted in response, not bothering to hide his disdain. He knew this man all too well—his visits were never without some form of scheming. Marcus circled the room slowly, his fingers tracing the edge of the table as he moved closer.

“You know, it’s funny,” Marcus continued, his tone casual, though laced with something more sinister. “There’s been a lot of talk in the streets lately. The citizens are starting to wonder how much longer Rome will have to bear the burden of a violent ruler.” The man let out a chuckle, it reverberated through the room and Geta swore his fingers shook with an emitting anger.

The emperor’s eyes flicked upward for the first time, meeting Marcus’s gaze with a steely intensity. The senator smiled, a smirk dancing on his lips as he leaned against the table, arms crossed.

“They say,” Marcus went on, “that there will soon be a new emperor. A man who leads not with blood, but with wisdom. One who doesn’t lose himself to rage every time a senator dares to speak out. The people... they’re excited, Geta. They’re waiting for the day Rome is free of your wrath… Maybe Caracalla would be a better fit?”

Geta’s grip tightened on the goblet, the muscles in his arm tensing as he fought to contain his growing anger. “You tread on dangerous ground, Marcus,” he warned, his voice low and cold.

Breath in. Breath out. Remember your wife, the sweet laugh, those little dimples that littered your face when he told a good story.

But Marcus was undeterred. He leaned in closer, his breath hot and smug as he whispered, “Perhaps you’re the one who should be careful. People don’t fear you anymore, Geta. They’re waiting for your death. And when it comes, oh how they’ll cheer. Finally, a ruler worthy of the Empire will take your place.”

A dark laugh escaped Marcus’s lips, but it was quickly cut off by Geta’s sudden movement. In a flash, the emperor had risen from his seat, standing tall over the senator. Marcus stiffened, but continued, confidence seemed to block the mans rational fears. “What will your pretty little wife do when you’re gone, I wonder? Maybe she’ll find solace in someone with real power.”

That was the last mistake.

Geta’s fury ignited like a wildfire, burning through every shred of control he had left. Before Marcus could react, Geta’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around the man’s throat. The senator’s eyes widened in shock as he gasped for breath, his hands clawing uselessly at Geta’s iron grip.

“You dare threaten my wife?” Geta growled, his voice trembling with rage. His face was twisted in a snarl, the veins in his neck bulging as he squeezed tighter. “You think you can speak to me of death? Speak to me of weakness?” He spat the words with venom, his grip tightening as Marcus’s face turned pale, then purple.

The senator’s eyes bulged, and his mouth opened and closed in silent pleas for mercy, but Geta’s rage was far beyond words now. He lifted Marcus off the ground, the senator’s feet dangling as he struggled weakly. The torchlight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as Geta’s expression darkened with each passing second.

“You thought you could replace me? With my own brother?!” Geta whispered, leaning in close to the dying man’s ear. “There will be no one else, dear Marcus.  I am Rome, hm? I. Am. Rome.”

Marcus’s body jerked one last time, and then he went still. Geta held him there for a moment longer, the senator’s lifeless eyes staring into nothingness, before finally letting the body fall to the ground with a heavy thud.

The room was silent, save for the sound of Geta’s ragged breathing. He stood over Marcus’s corpse, his chest rising and falling with the aftershocks of his rage. Slowly, he lowered his hand, twisting and turning the jeweled rings around his fingers while wiping the sweat from his brow. His gaze dropped to the dead man at his feet, his heart still pounding in his chest, though calmer now.

A twisted calm, one born of violence.

“Threatening my liege. My Wife,” Geta muttered to himself, stepping over Marcus’s body as he made his way toward the door. “They will all burn before I leave the throne.”

-

The hallways were dimly lit, the flickering flames of the torches casting long, distorted shadows along the stone walls. Geta’s breathing was still ragged, his pulse pounding in his ears as he moved through the empty corridors. His hands, still tingling with the memory of squeezing the life out of Marcus, twitched at his sides. Sweat clung to his brow, slicking his skin and making his tunic stick to his chest.

He could feel the weight of what he had done. The senator’s limp body, the satisfaction that had come when his struggles ceased. It was a different kind of battle—one where no soldier could see him, and no one could speak of it.

Yet, the thrill of victory felt different this time. It wasn’t the fight he was used to. He wasn’t on the battlefield, brandishing his sword, earning the respect of his men. This victory had been personal, quiet... but more satisfying than he could have imagined. Marcus had been wrong—there would be no new ruler. Not while Geta breathed.

He thought of the senators who whispered behind closed doors, plotting to strip him of his power. He thought of the citizens who questioned his rule, who had dared to entertain the idea of another emperor, a more peaceful one. And now he thought of those who might still move against him. They had made one fatal error—they underestimated his resolve, his willingness to do whatever was necessary to protect what was his. He had been lenient for too long.

His footsteps echoed in the silence as he neared the door to his chambers. The weight of his actions, the violence he was still capable of, burned beneath his skin, but as he pushed open the heavy wooden door, the tension seemed to soften.

There, lying in the massive bed, was his wife—your form draped in blankets, the soft rise and fall of your chest showing the example of a  peaceful slumber. You were so..  completely unaware of what he had just done, unaware of the thoughts that now consumed him.

Geta stood in the doorway for a moment, simply watching. His wife had been the one constant in his life, the anchor to his rage. You had calmed him when no one else could. 

His breath still came in short bursts, his chest tight with the remnants of his fury. Slowly, he approached the bed, his legs heavy beneath him as if the weight of the world had finally caught up with him. He collapsed beside you, the bed creaking under his weight. He was slick with sweat, the heat of the earlier confrontation still radiating from his body. He exhaled deeply, his muscles sagging as he sunk into the mattress.

His wife stirred slightly, your hand brushing against his arm as she mumbled something incoherent in sleep. Your touch was soft, gentle—so unlike the violence that had consumed him only moments before. For a moment, Geta considered waking you, telling just what had transpired, but no. You didn’t need to know about the bloodshed, the threat to their life. You didn’t need to carry the burden of his thoughts.

But in the stillness of the night, with his wife sleeping so peacefully beside him, his mind churned with plans. He would not be overthrown. He would not be replaced by anyone who dared to dream of ruling Rome in his stead. Geta would seek out the usurpers, one by one. He would find every senator, every noble, every conspirator who dared question his rule, and he would deal with them the same way he dealt with Marcus. There would be no mercy.

His wife shifted again, pressing closer to him, your hand now resting on his chest, and for a brief moment, the thoughts of violence faded. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her warmth, the way your perfect body curved against his.

But even as his breath steadied and exhaustion began to pull him into sleep, one thought remained clear in his mind: no one would threaten his reign. No one would ever threaten you again.

And when the time came to deal with the rest of them, Geta knew, deep down, he would not hesitate. Rome was his. And he would destroy anyone who thought otherwise.

[aemondloverr]

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐) 

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra, you are sent to the North to negotiate terms with Lord Stark.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Disapproving Jace

𝐰𝐜: 𝟐.𝟒𝐤

𝐀/𝐍: Ngl school was kicking my ass but I still wanna deliver 😪 (btw, cregan appears in the next part, not the first. sorryyy :p

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

“Mother? You sent for me?”

Rhaenyra is sitting at a table in her chambers, sipping wine and surrounded by various papers and documents. She looks up as you enter and a soft smile tugs at her lips, her eyes seeming to light up for just a moment

“Yes, my daughter. Come, sit with me.”

She pats the seat beside her, clearing a space among the piles of documents. There's an expectant look in her eye, her gaze resting on you

“I have something to discuss with you.”

Oh no

You know whenever those words come from the mouth of a mother, it’s never good. You’re either in trouble, or it’s something serious.

You approach the chair nervously and sit.

She sighs and sets down her glass of wine, shifting her attention fully to you. Her eyes seem to search your face for a moment before she speaks again.

“You're growing up so fast, you know that? It feels like just yesterday you were a little girl running through the gardens, laughing and playing with your brothers.”

You smile at the mention of fond memories.

Oh Gods. A speech is always a bad indicator. Especially one of childhood.

A pang of bittersweet nostalgia seems to pass over Rhaenyra’s features as she continues, her voice taking on a hint of regret

“Sometimes, I wish I could freeze time and keep you just as you are right now, still young and innocent, before the world has a chance to harden your heart. But… that’s not the way things work, is it?”

“I know mother…” Your smile quickly fades and you worry for what she’ll say next.

Rhaenyra holds your gaze for a moment before she speaks again, her voice soft and earnest

“You're much more perceptive than your brothers, you know that? You always were, even as a child. You always seemed to know what I was thinking before I even said it-”

“Is there something you want me to do?” It would be nice if she stopped beating around the bush and just asked.

She takes a deep breath as if steeling herself for what comes next, her gaze unwavering and intent on you

“…As you know, my reign is not without its challenges. There are those who question my claim to the throne, who think that my rule is not rightful. I need you to understand, my love, that in the future you may be forced to make difficult decisions, decisions that will impact not just your own life, but the future of the entire realm.”

You stare, expectantly

“This is why I am asking you to go to Winterfell…”

What…??

“But mother…”

She knows that this is the part where you'll likely protest

“I know you don't want to go, my love. I know that leaving home, leaving me, is difficult for you. Believe me, I would not ask this of you if there was any other option.”

“But Cregan…you know what he did…”

You���d expected something important yes, but this?…This was simply too much to ask of you .

Her hand comes to rest on top of yours in a comforting gesture.

“I know, my love. I know it hurt you greatly, believe me, it pained me to see you so distraught.”

“So why can’t you send Jace. Why would you send me to see him??”

“Jace is a good, honourable boy. I know he would do his duty and serve me well as a diplomatic envoy to Winterfell. But he is not you. I'm sending you for a reason, my love.”

“And why’s that??” You begin to get frustrated

Rhaenyra looks straight into your eyes, her gaze unwavering as she speaks

“Because Cregan Stark is a proud and stubborn man, one who values strength and resilience. He is unlikely to listen to just anyone. But he knows you. He once cared for you, deeply. I'm sending you there as someone who has the potential to sway him to our cause.”

“This is not fair. How could you even consider asking me this when you know—“

She sees you tearing up and reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, her touch, gentle and tender

“You know that duty must take precedence over desire…”

“For the realm...” You mutter, a tear falling

Rhaenyra's heart aches to see the tears in your eyes, but she doesn't falter in her resolve. She lifts her free hand to your face, gently wiping away a tear that threatens to spill down your cheek.

“Yes, my love. For the realm…”

She gently pulls you closer, letting you rest your head against her shoulder. She runs her fingers through your hair, her touch soft and soothing

“…For our family. For all the people we are sworn to protect.”

*****

Later that evening at supper

The entire family is gathered around the large table in the dining hall, eating their supper and engaging in light conversation. Rhaenyra is seated at the head of the table, daemon at the other with Jace seated to her left and Luke to her right.

Joffrey is seated across from Jace, chattering away happily about some toy he received. Rhaenyra glances up to where you are sitting, a small but weary smile on her face

Jace notices your quieter-than-usual demeanor and nudges you gently with his elbow

“Hey, are you alright? You're awfully quiet tonight.”

“Yea I’m alright, I’ll tell you later” you whisper.

Jace looks at you for a moment, his expression one of concern, but nods understandingly. He returns to his food, but you can feel his gaze occasionally flicking over to you throughout the meal.

*****

Rhaenyra stands and taps her glass.

At her signal, the conversation around the table dies down, and everyone turns to face her. Rhaenyra stands, her expression serious as she looks around at her family

She clears her throat and speaks, her voice steady and commanding

"Before everyone retires for the evening, I have an announcement to make."

Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, her gaze flickering briefly to you before continuing.

"As you all know, the stability of the realm depends on maintaining strong alliances and relationships with our noble houses. It is therefore necessary for me to send an envoy to Winterfell to reinforce our ties there."

A pause.

"I have decided to send your sister to Winterfell as our representative. She will leave in two days' time."

There is a moment of stunned silence as the rest of the family processes this information. Jace looks over at you, his forehead creasing with confusion. Luke's mouth has dropped open in surprise. Even Joffrey is silent, for once.

Jace protests. Daemon just sits back and watches the drama

He speaks up immediately, his voice filled with concern

"Mother, surely you can't be serious? You're sending our sister all the way to Winterfell? Alone? It's too dangerous!"

Rhaenyra looks at Jace with sympathy but irritation at his protest.

"I understand your concern, my son, but this decision is not up for debate. Your sister is perfectly capable of handling herself and representing our house honorably."

“At least let me go with her“

"No, Jace. I cannot spare you here, I need you by my side. One dragon in the open is enough and the greens could spot you” your mother says sternly.

“Mother you can’t just-”

Joffrey cries and Luke tries to comfort him. He doesn’t like the arguing and yelling

“It is done Jacaerys. You will argue no more about this!”

You quickly excuse yourself from the table, hurrying to your chambers.

Jace looks like he wants to say something, but Rhaenyra gives him a warning glance, and he reluctantly stays silent

As you head back to your chambers, you can hear the murmurs of the rest of the family resume, their low voices discussing the announcement Rhaenyra made. As you begin to pack your things, there's a soft knock on your door

“Enter”

Jace enters the room, closing the door behind him. He stands awkwardly for a moment, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Finally, he takes a deep breath and speaks, his voice filled with concern

"Are you really okay with this, going to Winterfell and seeing...him again?"

“I…have to” your back is turn from him as you put your clothing into leather bags

His expression softens and he moves closer to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder* "I know, but that doesn't make it any easier. I don't want you to get hurt, especially not by him."

“You need not worry Jace, I will be fine.” You already know that’s a lie. And he does too. But saying it out loud makes it feel true.

"You can say that all you want, but that doesn't make it any less worrying. I know how much he meant to you before."

“I am not going there to pursue him, I am going there to gain the North as an ally for our house.”

Jace nods, his expression serious once more

"I know that's the purpose of the mission, but you can't deny that seeing him again will be hard for you. You have feelings for him."

“What are you saying Jace.”

Jace sighs and runs a hand through his hair, glancing at you with concern "I'm saying that you're fooling yourself if you think going to Winterfell and seeing Cregan Stark isn't going to stir up feelings you thought you had buried."

“So what if it does…It’s not like I’m going to act on them.” You’re just going to do what is asked of you and leave. Nothing more.

"You say that now, but what happens if he wants to revisit the past with you? What if he wants to rekindle what you had between you?"

You let out a huff of frustration. “Just stop Jace. You don’t know anything anyways…”

He takes a step back, his expression hurt, almost. "What do I know? I know that you've been in love with Cregan Stark since you were children, and I know how much it hurt you when he left and you still haven’t gotten over it!”

You turn and look at him in disbelief that he would mention the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid. “Just go…Leave!”

Jace's expression softens at your harsh tone, and he takes another step back, swallowing thickly. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again, his eyes flicking to the ground before back up to you.

“Fine.”

He shuts the door with force.

You stand alone in your room, the silence heavy and oppressive without Jace's presence. You feel your emotions welling up inside of you, a mixture of anger and sadness and frustration at Jace's words. But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that you know he’s right.

*****

For the next two days you stay in your room, packing and pondering until the night it’s time to leave.

The atmosphere in the castle is tense, the realization of your imminent departure hanging heavy in the air. Rhaenyra and the rest of the family have gathered to see you off.

Rhaenyra stands next to Silverwing, watching you with a mixture of sadness and pride. The dragon emits a low, melancholic whine, as if sensing the gravity of the situation. The boys and daemon stand on either side of Rhaenyra, their faces stoic but anxious.

“I will see you in few weeks time.”

Rhaenyra nods, her expression solemn. She steps forward and hugs you tightly, pulling you to her chest. The hug is firm and possessive, conveying a mixture of love and protectiveness.

"Be safe, my love. I will count every day until your return."

You step aside to hug Jace. He returns your hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He holds you close for a moment, his chin resting on the top of your head. When he pulls back, his expression is still serious, and he mutters quietly.

"Be careful, alright? Don't do anything stupid."

“No promises…”

Jace gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to allow Luke to say his goodbyes. Luke hugs you tightly, burying his face into your shoulder. When he pulls back, he's fighting back tears, his voice wavering when he speaks

"I don't want you to go."

Joffrey then hugs at your waist, teary eyed, his aebottom lip trembling.

"Please don't go, please...I want you to stay."

Joffrey buries his face into your stomach, his small hands tugging at your dress. Luke places a hand on Joffrey's shoulder, trying to soothe his younger brother's distress. He looks at you helplessly, his own eyes glassy with tears

“Hush sweetlings…I wont be gone forever” You kiss their cheeks and tops of their heads

"You'll come back, right? You promise?"

“I promise.”

Joffrey and Luke both look up at you, their eyes wide and pleading, searching your face for assurance. Rhaenyra steps forward, her hand resting on each of their shoulders.

"Your sister will be back before you know it, and she'll come back with a great success for our house."

Even Jace tears up a bit but rolls his eyes, trying to play it off.

"I'm not tearing up. I just got something in my eye, that's all." He rubs at his eye, trying to cover up the fact that he is, in fact, on the verge of crying.

Then comes Daemond with a large, tight hug, practically suffocating you.

“Alright alright I love you too” you struggle with a strained voice and he finally lets go

“Just come back in one piece.”

“You know I will” you playfully push his shoulder.

You tie your bags to Silverwing and mount her saddle, blowing air kisses as you lead silver wing out of the den and out into the dark of the night.

The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.

A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoyed and forgive me for the delay. AP clases are NOT for the weak 😭 part 2 will definitely be out within the next few weeks tho. Let me cook.

PS. The plot is a bit different from the teaser. Please don’t be mad at me🙏🏾

@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @cregansfourthwife

[feyhunter78]

When the Night Turns

Description: The night before your husband leaves for battle, he tells you of his aspirations for the throne. You in turn confess your fears.

“I spoke with Cole, told him it is time for someone better to sit on the Iron Throne, and that will be me. Obviously.” Aemond says, his head resting on your thigh, his silver hair splayed out against the light blue fabric of your nightshift.

You say nothing, only continue combing your fingers through his hair. To speak in agreement with him would be treason, to speak against him would be your undoing.

“That this is where my reign begins.” He continues, the one arm around your waist tightening as he looks up at you, expectant.

You know what he desires, but you cannot give it to him, not here where Aegon is still King, where you do not have a dragon or an army of your own to keep you safe from accusations of treachery. Not when it is so clear that Aemond had no qualms about directing his anger at those closest to him, you cannot count on him or his dragon.

So, you choose the safe route. “Here, My Prince? I am no strategist, but I cannot say I believe my chambers to be the most effective place for anyone to begin their reign.”

Aemond hums in response, his good eye closed, his sapphire one glinting in the low candlelight.

You bite the inside of your cheek, stomach churning as you digest Aemond’s words. Of course, you believe him better suited for the throne but…

“I can sense the wheels in your mind turning issa prumia, speak, let your king ease your mind.” His voice still has that low, smooth tone to it, a gentleness to his words that you remember from when he said his vows, in the Great Sept. He promised that you were his, and he was yours, that none shall tear you asunder.

You smooth your thumb across his forehead, admiring the shadows his eyelashes cast upon his cheeks. “I wish you would take more care with your words. Your brother is the rightful king; it is what this war is all about, and I do not wish to see another conflict spring up when all of your focus should be on defeating the false queen.”

“And her craven of a husband.” Aemond says, unable to let any mention of his uncle go unsaid.

You nod, though he cannot see, and caress the curve of his cheek, fear flicking in your chest. “Yes, and that butcher.”

You shiver at the memory of the screams, of the rage and grief that echoed through the Keep after Jaehaerys’ death.

Aemond’s grip tightens on you once more, there is no need to speak, the consequences of Blood and Cheese’s actions weigh heavily on him, and you. They had been tasked with killing Aemond, but could not find him, Daemon did not know you and Aemond kept separate chambers, did not know your husband spent half his nights in your bed the other half in his own.

If they had not come upon Helaena first, if they had gone a few rooms down and found your chambers it may have ended differently, Aemond would have been able to stop them…

“I will not mourn when the Stranger comes for Daemon Targaryen.” You cannot keep the venom from your voice, even as flames of fear begin to climb once more within you.

Your hand must have stilled because Aemond brings it to his lips, his gaze meeting yours.

His amethyst eye is alight, a smug smile on his lips. “I will defeat them, I will win this war, and the realm shall have a king worthy of the throne. Rhaenyra and Daemon’s heads shall adorn the gates, and I shall decorate the Great Hall with their dragons’ skulls.”

You pull your hand away, your throat tight as the smoke from the flames of fear in your chest rise up and choke you.

Aemond follows, sitting up and taking your face in his hands, his eye inspecting every inch, his expression changed, softer, more attentive. “I am sorry, I should not speak of such things to you, they are far too gruesome for your ears.”

“I am afraid, Aemond.” You whisper, your hands coming to grasp his wrists, clinging to him. You know Vhagar is strong, that Aemond is smart, but you cannot help but be afraid, afraid that his pride will be his undoing.

“Do not be. Have faith in me, in Vhagar, in Cole. We are blessed, guided by the Seven.” He says, his long, lithe fingers threading into your hair, massaging the nape of your neck.

“I do, but I do not fear for you at Rook’s Rest, I fear that you will—” You cut yourself off, you cannot tell him you fear his pride will drive him to act foolishly, you are not the Dowager Queen, you cannot speak your mind so freely. “You are right. I will have faith.”

Aemond’s grip on you tightens, his gaze hardening. “Speak, y/n.”

You cast your eyes downwards, your voice soft. “I fear that you will be blinded by your ambition, that your pride will doom you.”

Aemond releases you with a sigh, and slips from your bed, his back to you as he gathers his things. “I expected such words from my mother. Perhaps you have spent too much time with one another.”

You follow after him, the stone floor cold against your bare feet. “I do not wish to lose you.”

He turns on his heel, eye patch in hand. “So, you think to insult me? To all but imply you do not believe I will be able to accomplish our goals, to win this war, and rule the realm?”

You take his hands in yours and press them to your heart, hoping he can feel how fervently it beats, how it beats for him, as it has since the day you met. “You asked me to speak, My King, to let you ease my mind. I did as you asked because I could not bear it if I did not speak, and you were lost to me because of the very thing I wished to warn you of.”

Your use of My King has softened him, if only a little, and he inclines his head towards you. “You think me prideful, issa prumia?”

“I think you a great man, with the largest dragon in the realm, but you are also a man who comes from hurt, whose family has been hurt.” You say carefully, as you keep a tight grip on his hands. “Your pain is real, and deserves recompense, but not at the risk of your life.”

Aemond’s eye flickers to the burning hearth, and you know you have reached him.

“Promise me, swear to me that if Daemon comes, however foolish it may be, no matter that you think he will not, promise me that you will use the aid of others to defeat him. Let that butcher gloat and preen, let him act as if he is the conqueror reborn, for we know he is a fool. And fools always reveal their weaknesses in time.”

Aemond slips his hands from yours and there is an ache in your chest, but he soothes it quickly, when he presses his lips to yours softly, his hand coming to cradle your cheek, the other settling on your waist. “My little wife, how clever you are.”

You lean into his touch, your own hands anchoring themselves in his tunic. “I must be, for how can I be the wife of King Aemond the first, if I am not?”

He smiles at your words, and pulls you flush against him. “I will have the servants move your things to my chambers, I want to return from battle to find my wife safe in my bed.”

Your heart leaps, when you first married you had hoped that you and Aemond would share chambers as your mother and father did, but he had shown little interest in the idea. In truth, it had served you and him well on that bloody night, but those routes in had been sealed, and his chambers were checked for other secret doors. It had been declared safe and for more than one reason now you could not be happier.

“You will find no argument from me, though I will need prior notice if you wish me to wear anything particular for your return.” Your voice takes on a jesting tone, though your words are true, and the way Aemond’s lips drift downwards, ghosting over the skin of your neck, tells you he hears them well.

“I have no preference, provided it is easily replaced.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering closed as Aemond’s lips find your pulse point. “Easily replaced?”

“How fond are you of this nightshift?” He asks in lieu of answering your question.

“I think it is pretty, but it is not my best one, I did not know you would be visiting me, so I did not have time to prepa—” The sound of fabric ripping accompanied by the clatter of a dagger against the stone floor and the cool air on your skin silences you.

Aemond hums appreciatively, his eye drinking in your form as he walks you backwards towards your bed. “This is why it must be easily replaceable; I cannot attest to the patience I will have when I return.”

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