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just-some-random-blogger · 2 days ago

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Daemon is clearly smitten against his will.

this is literally the best way to describe this fic HAAHAH

I hate the idea, really, because I remember his attempts to murder her earlier (I SAW YOU, DAEMON. I DO NOT FORGET EASILY)

THISSSS 💯💯💯💯💯💯 IM SO HAPPY YOU CAREEEEE T_T everyone seems to be so daemon biased (and i mean i dont blame them its a daemon fic for goodness sake) BUT LIKE ITS OKAY TO SAY THAT DAEMON IS FUCKED UP BECAUSE HE ISSSSSSSSSSSSSS EWWWWWW HAHAHAAHAHA. he's still going to go through a lot of character development, unfortunately at the expense of YN T_T

I was really rooting for the twins so I missed them a bit during this chapter. I feel sad for Erryk, ignored, though I understand reader's mood. I would be mad too. And sad.

)): ur so right. (btw you should know everything you say, i make sure to add in the next chapter HAHAHA. you want more twins. you got it) i feel bad for erryk too ): im happy you understand YN tho. shes constantly going thru it lmao

AEMMA! ..... yeah.... i wont say anything.

IM HAPPY YOU LIKE THE SMUT! i literally made sure to add smut in the next chapter just cos you said you like the way i write smut. it can be such a chore sometimes cos 🙄 why isnt daemon just fucking me y'know, but its worth it HAHAHAH. I'm so happy you find it compelling because ..... HAHAHA as i said it can be such a chore because i want it to be the way it is i imagine it in my head 🫦🫦🫦

HAHAHAHA IM TRYNA IMAGINE YOU CLAP LIKE SNOW WHITE WHILST READING THE SMUT HAHAHAHAH.

IM SUPER HAPPY YOU LIKE THE TOURNEY SCENE!!! I think its a really important turning point between the two of them sooooooo YAHH!!!!!!

thank you for your lovely reblog cristi. i love you so much we should make out rn

Tormented Spirit | 6

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (piv, biting, marking, mild choking) DD:DNE, violence/death, panic/anxiety attacks, mentions of pregnancy/labor, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: ayo my high valyrian is probably wrong so if you know it is just roll with it. girl this fic doesnt want to end wtf i- if you like my work, please consider leaving a comment or reblog as I really look forward to them

@arabellasleopardcoat

You fall asleep in Daemon's arms as he walks back to the Keep. He cannot help himself. His lilac eyes go back and forth between your face and where he was going. There seemed to be nothing else. It was just him, the moon, and your breathing against his neck.

When he reached the door to his marriage chambers, and he was taken aback by the sudden galloping of a Cargyll twin. The knight opens the door then makes way. Daemon turns over his shoulder and realizes both brothers had been following him.

There is an angry annoyance that forces up his throat, but when you release an audible sigh, and he remembers it was he who had instructed them to retrieve you. He says two words before entering the room and kicking the door closed, "thank you."

Daemon lays you down and gulps at the sight of your body. Your brown hair falls over your face as you shuffle and reach out for nothing. He realizes then, as the urge to push your tresses away intensifies, that he's never witnessed you sleep before.

He removes your shoes, placing them at the foot of your bed.

And he never will.

Daemon walks off. He's five steps from making an exit when he hears the noise you make. He stills and waits a few seconds. You make the noise again.

With a line between his brows, he returns to you, peering over your body. Indeed, you were still asleep, but from the way your lips and forehead curled, you were dreaming of something unpleasant. He sighs, clasping his hands, "amīvindigon sesīr isse ēdrugon." Tormented even in sleep.

There is a discomfort that spreads in his ribs as tears leave your closed eyes. He shakes his head "mundagon riña." Miserable girl.

He sits beside you, staring for a moment before finally brushing your hair back, doing the same with your tears. While caressing your soft skin, he finds his thumb itching to smoothen out the creases on your face that seem to only deepen. Under his breath, he speaks to you the way he would Caraxes when he's overcome with emotion. He forfeits the commanding tone however and whispers each word.

At some point, both his hands find your cheeks. He is so caught up in tracing your lips, he doesn't even realize you were no longer in distress, nor does he know of your consciousness until you lean into his touch.

He is frozen when his eyes meet yours. He starts slightly when you sit up, heart racing when you embrace him. His pulse thunders so loud that you pull away and examine his face in worry. Daemon's breath hitches when your hands clutch his cheeks. Your eyes rove across his face and again, your forehead curls. You speak in the softest of voices, "what's wrong?"

He thinks for a moment. He stares at you. You just had a nightmare, yet you ask him what is wrong? He shifts and rests his hand at the small of your back. He shakes his head as his expression falls. He whispers, "mirre iksis sȳrī, jorrāeliarza." All is well, beloved.

You do not understand him.

He repeats, "all is well."

Your features slowly relax.

His harden as he tests the word he omitted in translation, "beloved."

His belly flutters at the faint chuckle you release. His eyes begin to widen when you slowly lean closer.

Daemon pulls his head back, intent on watching what you, but he freezes when you kiss his cheek, again and again. You kiss his jaw, his jowl, his lips. Suddenly, he can smell you so clearly. Suddenly, he pulls you in.

You gather your skirts as you climb onto his lap. You sigh as you deepen your kiss him. He makes a strangled sound against your mouth when you grind on his crotch. He digs his fingers into your hips before pushing your dress out of the way to claw at your thighs.

He sighs when your hands brush his chest. His breathing grows heavy at your attempt to free him of his top. He helps you get him out of his garbs, and soon he is getting you out of yours. Once you're both naked, he pulls you in, pressing his skin against yours, unwilling to part from your body. Simultaneously, he has a strong urge to examine you, to commit to memory the hue of your skin and the curves of your flesh. Daemon, in all his greed, tries to do both at once.

With you still sitting on him, he squeezes your bum, securing you on his lap as he drinks in your visage. He shamelessly moans and pants as you continue to grind on him, and now he can feel your wetness on his hardening member. As you undo the tie of his hair and comb the silver strands back, he remembers the first time you'd ever fucked.

He is hypnotized by your confidence, by how unbridled and overt your desire for him is. Nothing remains of the timid little girl he claimed on the beach. You were lust incarnate, the goddess of sex. You scratch your nails up his nape and besiege him with open mouthed kiss. He returns your fervor, scratching his nails up down back, garnering out a shaky moan from your lips

He breaks away only to ogle at your breasts and he knead them. His breath grows heavier at your continued grinding and hitches upon catching your dazed reaction. He spews out a string of High Valyrian curses before capturing your ribcage. He sinks his face into your chest and you mewl at the feel of his hot mouth on your breast, feeling restless and needy.

"Daemon," you tug at the roots of his hair, "I need you."

You are uninclined to wait for him as you lean into his shoulder while your other hand grabs his cock. Your breast in his mouth muffles the noise that leaves him as sink down on him. You yelp when he nips your sternum, but it does not deter you from beginning to maneuver your hips up and down.

"Fuck, fuck," Daemon huffs against your chest. He looks up at you, going mad at the sight of your closed-eyed concentration. He licks a stripe of sweat building on the side of your neck and thrusts up in sync to your movements.

"N-ñuha dārilaros," my prince falls from your lips.

He moans at that. He straightens and traps you tightly in both his arms, "where did you fucking learn that?"

You squeak as his thrusts grow more vigorous, "I- mmm- in- uh- book."

Daemon licks your lower lip before biting it, "desperate hussy," he moans against your mouth, "iksan jāre naejot pryjagon ao." I am going to destroy you.

You gasp as he pushes you back like you were nothing. Your legs immediately lock around his hips as he comes atop you and your voice trembles when his hips thrust slower but deeper as he adjusts you to the center of the bed. He nuzzles into your neck, licking your jaw. He then pushes himself up and rubs your the curve of your ass.

You yield to him as he pushes your thighs back, bringing your legs over his shoulders. Using his weight to keep you down, he takes your wrists and pins them above you while the other tightens around your throat.

He fucks you thoroughly in this position and you can do nothing but whimper, arch your back, and feel your arousal drip onto the bed.

His hand brushes up your neck and soon he's tracing your parted lips with his thumb. You take him in and bite his finger. It stokes a flame in his belly, thus why he pulls away to push hand into the back of your knees.

You are helpless as he plows into you. Daemon, in his delirium, reverts back into his mother tongue. He sings your body praises in High Valyrian. He calls you dirty names as he slaps his hips into yours with a wet squelch. Your fucked-out expression pulls out an honest confession of how pretty he think you'd look stuffed with his seed.

Of course, you cannot understand a word he's saying, nor do you know how much calling him name is egging him on.

He watches you, his darling doe. The dragon in him relishes your screwed eyes and opened mouth. You throw your head back as you chase your building pleasure, meanwhile Daemon feels his stomach tighten as his own nears.

Fuck, you were beautiful. It would be a shame to waste his seed.

A deep line forms between his brows as he imagines the child you would bear him. Fuck. He does not want it.

He grabs your jaw and pushes your head to the side. It's enough to push you over the edge. He curses as he feels you tighten around him. You're so hot and wet and divine, he grits his teeth to build his resolve. Quickly, he quickly pulls out, gliding his cock back and forth your slick folds, sequentially finishing on your pulsing cunt and belly, just as he always does.

The image is nothing new, but it drives him no less wild. Behold, the Lord Hand's dearest daughter, all dirty with his molten come. It's a wicked, wet dream made reality. It was all his.

But there was something different. Daemon doesn't just pull away and roll over. He stares at you for a while, watching you catch your breath as he does the same. He stares at the mess he's made of you, and yes, you were filthy but you were also glimmering. He gulps, before grabbing his discarded clothes to clean you up.

He wets his dress shirt with water then wipes you down. He does the same to himself and catches you staring.

His instinct is to ruin the moment, to berate you for looking so dumbstruck and to praise the prowess of his cock, but he cannot find it in him to do so with how utterly enchanting you look in the afterglow of your love m— fucking.

You reach out to him.

His heart races.

"Stay," you whisper.

If there's one thing he hates, it's people telling him what to do.

... why then was such a simple word so compelling?

You fix the pillows on the bed as your husband crawls beside you. Daemon feels his throat constrict as you throw yourself on him. He is unable to move as you press your chests together and snake your leg over his hips. He does not know why he's become petrified by your touch. You trace your thumb across his face, "you're so beautiful."

Daemon does not reply. He cannot.

His brows furrow when he thinks he notices your eyes water. They furrow deeper when you smile and laugh out, "I wish you were real."

You feel sick after saying that.

He feels sick after hearing that.

Your prince shakes his hand and takes the hand you had on his face, "I am real."

You nod and laugh again. "I believe you."

Why then do your tears fall?

Daemon lets you curl into him. You latch onto him so tightly, he feels you would not be able to push you away even if he wanted. He doesn't want to though.

You fall asleep in his arms.

You wake up all alone.

You groan at the sound your servants telling you to rise. You brush your brown hair off your shoulder and knit your brows at the feel of your night gown. A pit instantly forms in your belly. Of course it had been a dream.

Hot tears that instantly rush down your cheeks. You hide underneath your blankets and manage to croak, "leave me alone."

You weep into your pillows for you did not know any better. You did not know Daemon had slept with you. You did not know when he awoke, he watched you sleep until the last minute. You did not know he put you into the clothes you wore because you shivered without his heat.

You hear your servants fuss over you. They ask if you're ill and in need of a maester. The only response you give are sniffles and groans. They ask if you will be able to attend today's tourney.

You moan, "what?"

"It will be starting soon, milady," one of the servants say, "do you not want to see your husband joust? He is quite good."

You know she says it to entice you, but it only makes you feel sick. After all, you did not know Daemon roused early, only because he needed to prepare for the tourney. You never will.

The same servant says, "and your brother? Isn't it his last day in King's Landing?"

You push your blankets down and stare at your two servants.

"Milady," the other says softly, "it would be good to attend."

"I do not want to behold my brother in such violence," you snuggle into bed.

The servants turn to each other, and one offers, "you can close your eyes upon collision, princess."

You sigh and shake your head. You think of Daemon. You think of how he'll surely hurt Gwayne if they face each other. Your think of how he'd done so in a tourney once before. You shake your head, "I do not want to go."

So you do not.

When the tourney commences, Daemon is most eager to make his entrance. One by one, the players are called, and upon his turn, he trots on his horse with a look of pride. He basks in the cheers as his eyes fall to the main balcony, where he quickly spots the king. His expression further brightens at the sight of his brother's smile and his niece's grin. When he spots your sister and your ugly father, he looks the crowd once over, looking for you. His lips flatten when he realizes you're not there. He awaits your arrival, forfeiting the first pick to witness your entrance, then he realizes, you wouldn't be coming. Suddenly, it was as though he never woke up in a good mood.

Meanwhile, you were aimlessly roaming the castle with one Cargyll twin trailing behind you. You do not know who it is, as you cannot find it in you to speak to him. You knew if you did, you'd end up asking him what happened after him and his brother found you in the temple. You did not want to be disappointed by the reality you'd dreamed up Daemon, so you hold your tongue.

You are torn from your lonesome trance when you hear wailing across the hall. You find yourself drawing near to the source, and you realize it was coming from Queen's chambers. Your feet falter when it dawns on you she was now in labor.

One of the servants spots you and curtsies, "princess. Have you come to visit the queen?"

You release a shaky breath, "I-"

"Who is it?!" Aemma snaps loudly then sighs.

You step back, heart racing. You gasp when you knock into Cargyll's chest plate. Another gasp comes when you turn forward and find the face of the queen. She looks distraught and yet she laughs, "your husband visited me just this morning."

You watch as she groans and rubs her belly, "he requires your attention more th-" she winces, "than I."

You cannot help but take her arm, "s-should you not be in bed, my queen?"

Aemma sighs, squeezing your arm in return, "walking can help speed-" she does not continue as her face curls in discomfort.

You feel your breath hitch as she squeezes you tighter, "sh-shall we walk to-together?"

She looks at you, a deep line between her brows, "Daemon was very excited for today's tourney. You should be there cheering for him."

"But-"

Aemma lurches forward as a particularly painful contraction hits her.

She is taken by the midwives and lead back into her chambers. You are so stunned by the encounter, your ward has to reel you back and shake you.

"My princess," he takes your shoulders.

You look at him, unable to speak. Your eyes become glassy but you manage to take deep breaths to calm yourself.

"Do not distress," he says, rubbing your arms, "the queen has everyone she needs at her disposal."

Your lips wobble, "her p-pain must be unbearable."

He cannot help the twist of his face nor how his face reaches out for your cheek, "you need not think about anyone else's pain. You have far too much of your own."

You do not respond to him until you find yourself in the gardens. You are grateful he did not think to lead you into the maester's ward, and guilty that you still do not know who it was accompanying you.

"Erryk?"

"Yes, my princess?"

You turn from the flower bushes to him, "did I get it right?"

He knits his brows and nods, "yes, my princess."

"Apologies for not speaking to you earlier. I... was not in good spirits."

"You needn't apologize for doing what is best for you."

You lower your head, "you are too kind to me."

"I really ought to be kinder," he says, taking your hand in both of his.

You look at him as he rubs your knuckles. You smile and cover his hands with yours.

"I would tell you to watch the tourney if I were kinder," Erryk says.

You laugh, "it is precisely because you are kind that you do not tell me to do such things."

Erryk thinks how inappropriate it was of him to act this way, to hold your hand, to impose his opinions upon you. If he was kinder, he would not be so apparent with his fondness. He mutters, "I am dutiful, my princess, but I am not kind."

You knit your brows at that.

He does not clarify and pulls away, "perhaps you would like to go out and pick flowers again?"

You smile at the thought, but remember your brother, "I do not want to miss my brother. He will leave today before sunset no matter what."

He nods. If he were kinder, he'd offer to take you to the tourney to see your brother while he is still here, but he also does not want to bring you to your husband.

You think of the tourney nonetheless, as well as the queen's words. You sigh and shake your head, "would it be inappropriate to watch the games at this hour?"

Erryk is surprised by your question.

"I do not want to appear as though I meant to make an entrance."

"I assure you," he shakes his head, "no one would think it. It is not your nature."

You chuckle to yourself, turning to your feet, "you're right. They'd probably assume I was subject to the horrors. As it is my nature."

"That is not what I mean-"

"A jest," you smile, "a mere jest."

When you arrive at the tourney, your father immediately assumes exactly what you said, and looks you over in concern. You simply agree with what he assumes to save yourself the trouble but reassure him you were better. You then assume the seat beside Alicent.

It's harder to reassure her, as her worry is more frantic than your father's. She secures her hand in yours throughout the event, and tells you which players she thinks will do poorly so you are not so shocked if they end up on the ground.

You are glad of it, but in truth you pay little attention to the violence. You let your mind wander, counting how many birds fly overhead. You daydream about flying on Caraxes. You daydream about embracing Daemon from behind.

You are only pulled back into reality when you hear your brother's name announced.

Alternatively, Daemon rolls his eyes as he dawdles around his tent, waiting for his turn to bash someone in with his lance.

You perk from your seat, watching the man with the Hightower sigil gallop across the stadium, all the way to you. Gwayne removes his helmet and smiles. He calls out, "I am glad to see you, sister. I was concerned you would not come."

Daemon stills when he hears this and looks out his tent.

"Cast away your concerns. Focus on staying on your horse," you call back.

Gwayne offers his lance, "perhaps your favor will keep me upright, princess."

You roll your eyes at your brother's teasing regard. Still, you stand and throw him a wreath, "do not dare fall off your horse, ser."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he puts his helmet back on.

As the Hightower twins were speaking, Daemon exited his tent and mounted his horse. Without even looking at the man who meant to go against Gwayne, the prince announce he have his turn and gallops off, leaving everyone nothing else to do but follow.

Daemon replaces your brother, huffing as he halts before you. He looks up at you and your parted lips, your braided brown hair, your terribly modest dress. Suddenly, his chipper mood returns to him. He licks his lips and grins, calling out your name.

Alicent turns to you, gripping your hand. Rhaenyra turns to you, chuckling under her breath. Otto turns to you, clenching his jaw. Viserys turns to you, smiling softly. You turn to Daemon, voice breaking, "husb-and."

Your husband releases a breathy laugh. His stomach feels fuzzy, "I am gladdened by your appearance."

Your throat tightens yet your jaw slacks. He is?

Daemon watches you. He waits for your response but receives none. It makes his brows furrow, but his smile remains. He points his lance, "give me your favor."

"I-"

"He's already given her favor, uncle," Rhaenyra says, leaning forward.

Daemon's eyes remain on you, "then she'll give another."

The princess laughs, "she cannot favor two knights. Especially not two knights jousting against each other."

Daemon finally turns to his niece. She smiles at him as he huffs, "fine," but the prince turns to Alicent, "if I cannot have my wife's favor, her sister's suffice."

Rhaenyra turns to Alicent. Alicent turns to you. Your eyes do not leave Daemon. Your sister pulls away and takes the wreath, dropping it on his lance, "I do hope fortune finds you, my prince."

Daemon nods at her.

Alicent sits back down, turning between her friend and her sister. The former looks sulky while the latter looks agitated. Your heart pounds as Daemon smiles at you once he is positioned opposite Gwayne. You misinterpret his expression. Alicent takes your hand, and this time you squeeze her tightly as you turn to your twin, "he will hurt Gwayne."

Your sister watches you gulp and rubs your hand, "it's a tourney."

You turn to Alicent with wide eyes, "precisely," you rapidly shake your head, "I should not have come."

Alicent lowers her head to offer you a solemn expression, "our brother is not made of glass. He is knight and a formidable player in his own regard."

You smile at your sister and nod, trying to find comfort in her words. You look back at Daemon, finding him already looking at you. His grin is renewed and you feel your stomach churn. You shift on your chair and avert your gaze to your brother. Gwayne is already faced forward with his helmet on. You mutter a prayer of protection under your breath.

Daemon's brows knit when you do not turn back to him. He tries to will you to look with his mind, but you do not, not even when the horses begin to run.

Gwayne manages to hit him, the cunt's lance colliding with his chest where his own misses. A point is called and the crowds cheer. Daemon turns to you and finds a look of relief on your face. It causes his lips to tighten. He barks as he charges the second time.

Gwayne hits him again, this time, nearly dismounting. Daemon skids on the railing but manages to get himself upright.

The prince huffs, eyeing his opponent darkly. His eyes trail back to you, finding you looking out to him in concern. Part of his anger dissipates, but then you turn to your brother, gesturing vaguely. Your twin gestures back and you roll your eyes at him. Daemon doesn't understand what it means, but it irritates him all the same.

He huffs and decides to be done with this bother. The prince is silent until the horses start running again. His lance expertly makes the hit, causing the horse to topple forward, effectively sending the ginger cunt flying off. The heavy crashing and loud gasps are music to his ears. Daemon looks back at his opponent and laughs. He chucks his splintered weapon to the side and entices cheers with his victory scream.

The only reason his celebration stops is because he hears shrill scream from the balcony. He turns and finds you standing by the railing, calling out to your brother. Your father and sister are stood behind you, trying to calm you down. You thrash against them and manage to slip away. Daemon watches you leave the balcony and the Cunt Hand gives an apologetic look to the king.

Erryk follows you as you make your way down the arena to Gwayne's tent. He is uneasy by how distressed you were, and though he knew your distress would not wane until you see the condition of your twin, he did not like the idea of you coming to him, lest it inspire the rage of your husband, who was rather happy to watch your brother crumple to the ground.

You find Gwayne laid on a cot, attended by some squires. His helmet is removed and his pained expression makes you run to him.

"Brother," you come to his side, finding relief in the maester that enters his tent.

You tense when your brother calls your name and worriedly wipe the blood that trickled down his philtrum with a towel.

He groans and you pull away, allowing the maester to inspect him. His bent breastplate is removed and you see bruises on his pale chest. The measter presses his ear against his chest and turns to you, "Lord Gwayne is strong. He will be fine."

You breathe a sigh of relief and nods, "thank you. Thank the gods."

"You should not be here," Gwayne groans as he sits up.

You glare at him, gripping your skirt.

"Get her out of here, Carygll," he motions vaguely. Erryk comes to your side on cue.

You scoff, "hypocrite. If you were in my place, would you leave if I asked you?"

"Please," he looks up at you with tired blue eyes, "I do not wish to quarrel."

"Then do not wish me away!" you shake your head, "I-"

Your attention is stolen when your name is called again. You, as does everyone else, turn to the man who walks into the tent. Daemon knits his brows, gaze lingering on your twin before turning to you. He brings his hands behind him and sighs, "See. I did not kill him. You needn't be so worried, darling."

The pet name makes you feel sick. Erryk clenches his jaw.

"Come," he reaches a hand out to you, "your heart will only heavy with worry if you stay here. There's plenty of space in my tent."

Anger builds in you at his callousness. Gwayne recognizes it and curses under his breath. He watches you intently, noticing the twitch of your face twitches and the very moment you resign yourself to your husband's whim. He stares at his lap, unwilling to witness the bitter tears he knew would come after you take his hand.

Daemon shoots Gwayne a shit-eating grin as he walks out of the tent, but the cunt does not even see it. Still, he is pleased as he brings you to his tent and immediately pours you a cup of wine. The prince freezes when he realizes you had been silently sobbing. You stand there aloof as tears wet your face.

The prince drops the cup he meant to offer you and captures your cheeks. He gazes at you in concern and repeats what he had already said, "I did not kill him."

Your eyes focus as he swipes your cheeks. The coldness in your gaze unnerves him, "you did not have to be so cruel."

He pulls his head back, "cruel?"

You say nothing.

Daemon chuckles dryly, releasing you, "we were both in a tourney," he chuckles again, "girl."

You flinch when he calls you that. Your father's face appears in your head.

The prince is riled up by your silence. His stomach is uneasy by the steady flow of your tears. He scoffs, "your brother lost, but your husband-" he enunciates, "won."

You sniffle and wipe your cheeks, "yes," you offer him a smile, "apologies. Congratulations, my prince."

He stills at your words. He finds no satisfaction in it. His jaw feathers and he scoffs again, "do not congratulate me. I've still others to defeat."

You nod and step forward, "yes," you place your hand on his shoulders, "you are not injured at all, are you?"

It's as though your hands were heating his armour. He flinches when you touch his face. You pull your hands away ready to apologize for the intrusion but then he barks, "I am not feeble like you and your twin."

His anger is familiar. It is no worse than that of your fathers, thus how you sustain your stillness.

Somehow it is worse that you do not react.

Daemon clenches his fists at your blankness, "say something, damn it."

You are taken off-guard by the desperation you discern, "w-what do you want me to say?"

"..."

"Do you have nothing more to tell me than I am cruel?"

The softness of his voice strikes a fear in you that you have not yet known. Your hands begin to tremble.

In a second, his softness is gone, and he snaps, "if you love that cunt so dearly, you should have married him instead."

You are stoic as Daemon storms off. The prince glares at Erryk, who had been waiting outside his tent the whole time, "get that bitch out of here."

Your ward's face contorts in contempt as your husband walks away. When Erryk makes his way towards you, he is unnerved by your stillness. He reaches for your arm, "princess?"

You turn to him and suddenly, you're laughing.

Goosebumps form underneath Erryk's armor.

"He said I should have married Gwayne instead," you turn to him.

He is tense at your eerily jovial expression. He mutters, "I heard."

"I do not ascribe to the unorthodox ways of his house," you shake your head. You laugh again but tears begin to flow after, "he thinks I'm stupid, doesn't he?"

The man gulps at your words and frowns, "even if he thought your skin was green, it would not make it so."

You laugh, but it is not so unsettling this time.

Erryk leads you out of the tent, "where to, my princess?"

"I... would like to go for a swim."

He takes a moment to think but then nods, "there is a stream that not many know of. We could go there. It is no very far."

As the tourney progresses, Daemon takes out his anger on his opponents. The is no satisfaction in any of his wins however, as each time, the looks over his shoulder to search for your face, and each time he is reminded you are not there.

At some point, he's so distracted that one vermin opponent manages to dismount him. He rages and screams for his sword. His foe grabs a flail. In the end, the prince is overpowered and forced to yield. It takes everything in him not to lunge at the stupid fuck as he walks towards the princess and her friend.

He storms to his tent, unwilling to be attended by anyone. He barks as a trembling squire, "I want my wife."

"S-she left with ser Car-"

Daemon kicks his table down.

"I-I— I will go call for her-"

He groans in pure vexation as he removes his armor. He looks down at himself, finding dirt, bruises, and small cuts on his body. His eyes water, but not in pain. You would clearly spare him no sympathy for his injuries. He did not even win. His breathing grows heavy in anger. It doesn't take long until he is overcome with emotion. Instead of drinking the cup of wine he poured himself, he slams it to the ground then proceeds to raze the other furniture in his tent.

#arabellasleopardcoat cutie #tormented spirit #cristi my love #we should kiss so much #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen smut

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in1-nutshell · 2 days ago

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Hello and is it okay to request TF with this idea?

Fem Buddy as a cybertronian (or Terran) and has a twin bot. They've been raised on earth and by humans, since they were babies and They don't know anything about Cybertron, they still loves/cares Earth and anything on it

They're famous or celebrity twins on earth. (like being genius, performer, artist, model, YouTuber, actor, or others, you choose). They do love it, the fame, the happy faces that humans get when seeing them, but They sometimes wondered where they came from.

Fem Buddy and Male! Twin are both inseparable, caring for each other, they sometimes speak/act in unison, having same and/or sharing thoughts, and had great teamwork/synchronization, and yet had teasings/sassiness in a mild way

Yet Fem Buddy and Twin have differences

Fem Bot looks like a Decepticon, has an reclusive yet timid and good-hearted, yet sometimes expressive with closed lip, also being supportive (and somewhat child-like or oblivious/innocent) twin.

M! Twin, he looks similar to an Autobot, known for being a leading/leader twin, having energetic, bold, and pompous yet somewhat mature, or something like spoiled prince yet mature and has smart personality, often showing his sharp teeth, whether he's smiling, frowning, etc., also being very protective/ aggressive for his twin.

You can add this idea if you want:

Autobots' human friend/kid(s) have been a fan of the twins (and probably had a celebrity crush/es on them), before the cybertronian thing, and they introduce the Autobots to these Celebrity twins via media of sort?

I apologize if this is complicated or I've been requested a lot. Thank you so much and also take care of yourself.

(also Happy Decepticon Day!)

Finally! I got to this one before it got erased! Again!

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy Twin's who live on Earth

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronian reader

TFA

The name Issac Sumdac was one well known throughout the city of Detroit.

It was also a little-known fact of his daughter, Sari Sumdac, who was almost always accompanied by two of his most astounding looking robots.

A tall one and a small one.

Affectionally given the names Sonia and Syrus.

Sonia was the larger bot that was often seen walking the grounds of the Tower, presumably as a guard bot.

It seemed like the bot fit the job having such a large, and sharp framework.

Perfect for intimidating any trespassers.

As intimidating as the bot looked, Sonia’s family knew that she was a shy bot who just so happened to look like she could end someone with her pinkie.

A couple of tourist are looking at the big bot from a distance. Tourist 1: “Do you think it can think?” Tourist: “No way, its just a machine.” Tourist 1: “But if it could…” Tourist 2: “Probably thinking on how to annihilate human kind. I mean have you seen the size of those fists!” Meanwhile with Sonia… Sonia: “I think I’ll go visit the red birds nest before lunch time.”

Around her family, Sonia was a bit of a pushover for her younger siblings.

She couldn’t help it!

They had a mastery of the puppy dog eyes she had yet to conquer.

But make no mistake, if there is even the notice of a threat to Sonia’s family, she is making sure to get them to safety before dealing with the situation.

Sari loves hanging around Sonia’s shoulder and loves doing random trust falls with her.

The Professor has lost count of the number of times he has had to buff out dents in his eldest daughter’s frame.

Sonia loves her younger sister to death but she needs to stop giving her near death experiences.

Sonia is with the Professor watching Syrus playing with Sari play. Professor Sumdac: “You know you could always join them, Sonia.” Sonia looks at him. Sonia: “But what if I hurt them? I’m too sharp and big” Professor Sumdac: “It would be on accident. We both know you would never actively harm them.” Sonia still looks a bit conflicted but ends up joining the pair in ‘Mega trust fall’. Professor Sumdac winces a bit as both Syrus and Sari fall from a ledge and Sonia cushions their fall. Professor Sumdac: “Maybe I should have talked to them about taking it easier on their sister…”

Syrus was the smaller bot.

Often seen giving some tours around the Tower for guests and tourists.

His energetic and charismatic personality fit well for the tours.

He is the closest with Sari.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Sonia, but his baby sister is way more fun to hang out than Sonia the worry wart.

Both love playing around the Tower’s private grounds, letting their imagination run wild.

On the occasion they do decide to make the day an adventure, they both know that if things get too hairy, Sonia was always one call away.

No one in their right mind would DARE mess with them when Sonia was in her protective mode.

Sonia is just minding her business when she gets a call. Sonia: “Syrus? What—” Syrus: “Can you come get us? We might have gotten in a bit of trouble…” Sonia is already tracking down Syrus location. Sonia: “What happened? Are you and Sari okay?” Syrus: “Well… we might be hiding from Fanzone’s new rookie cop.” Sonia: “And why?” Syrus: “To be fair, he started calling Sari a brat… and we might have put a virus on his phone… and currently hiding in the park.” Sonia: “… Give me 5 minutes.” Syrus: “Yes!” Sonia: “But you two are explaining to Dad why your in this mess.” Syrus: “…Hey big sis—” Sonia: “Don’t even think about it.”

That being said, Syrus is almost, if not more protective of his family than Sonia is.

While Sonia can handle certain things being thrown at them, she has a hard time standing up for herself.

That’s where Syrus usually comes in and stands up for her.

Syrus has no problem chewing out anyone who goes after her.

Both robotic siblings are ready to choose violence if someone decides to go after their squishier family members.

The topic of the bots creation has been a hot topic for years, mainly kept up by Syrus constantly pestering Professor Sumdac about it.

Sonia stopped asking a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about it from time to time.

Especially looking at other, less emotional robots.

She is simply content with her life keeping her father and siblings safe.

Now, to the day the Autobots wake up…

Sonia was away on a nearby island trying to help Sari with her project on bird nesting sites.

Syrus is beside Sari’s side the entire time the Autobots are going around.

Absolutely blown away when the bots reveal that he is a Cybertornian like them.

Even gets a vehicle mode from them!

Every single one of the Sumdac’s remember at the last second that they had forgotten to mention the whole incident to Sonia.

The Professor swears he can hear Sonia’s ‘blood pressure rise in less than a couple seconds when he talks to her over the phone.

Syrus and Sari are in charge of telling the bots about their older sister.

Sari: “You guys are gonna love Sonia!” Optimus: “Sonia?” Syrus: “That’s our big sister.” Bumblebee: “Like human or bot?” Syrus: “Bot—Sari! She is going to flip when she finds out she’s an alien too!” Sari: “I bet she’s gonna watch all those alien movies with us now!” Ratchet turns Prowl. Ratchet: “I swear if this ‘Sonia’ is like Syrus…” They both share a look of slight dread. BOOM! The ground starts to tremble a bit. Bulkhead: “What is that!?” Bumblebee: “You think it could be the Decepticons?” Sonia appears at the front door venting heavy with panic in her optics. All the Autobots are ready to attack when Syrus and Sari run to the bot. Bumblebee: “Sari! Syrus!” Both jump up as the larger bot kneels and holds them both to her chassis. Sonia: “Your okay! Wait are you?” Sonia looks at both of them from head to toe trying to see any signs of harm. The bots are just stunned. Syrus: “We’re fine Sonia, but guess what! We’re aliens! Just like the Autobots!” Sonia finally looks up at the bots and looks just as surprised as Syrus had when he first met them. She shyly goes over and takes her servo out. Sonia: “Its nice to meet you all. I take it you helped keep Syrus and Sari safe?” Optimus blinked a bit before slowly shaking her servo. To his surprise, she was very gently in handling it. Optimus: “Yes, and you are Sonia?” Sonia smiles a bit while placing both her sibling on her shoulders. Syrus stops her. Syrus: “Wait! Sonia look what we can do!” He proceeds to transform into a car and drives a bit around the Plant. Sonia: “Wait we can do that!”

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfa x platonic reader #tfa x reader

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 2 days ago

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I have a little request if that’s alright😊

Could you possibly do a like fluffy aftercare fic with Rhys? Like I love the smut but sometimes that really fluffy aftercare with him checking in on you and making sure you are okay is even better. Him getting a bath ready and helping you clean up and him feeding you.

Basically what I’m trying to say is fluffy smut with fluffy aftercare is delicious lol

I absolutely love your Rhys fics!!! I’m DEVOURING Love and War and just your Rhys fics on general lol

I hope you’re taking care of yourself and have a great day sweetheart💜💜

I love requests! Send as many as you like! <3 Rhys doesn't get enough love so I've decided to roll up my sleeves and put out as many fics as possible and it makes me so happy to see other people enjoying them as much as me! I hope you like this one! <3

-----

Vacation Days

It's the crackling of logs in the fireplace that awakens you; the hiss of flames and the hint of pine that perfumes the air a gentle alarm clock that makes you roll over onto your side to peer out the window to see how early in the morning it is. The sky is still gray, though it could be the encroaching storm clouds that darken the sky and not the time.

You drag the heavy, fur lined blanket up over your head and bury your face in the pillow. Whatever the case, it's too early! And you're too comfortable to get up.

The bed dips beside you, blankets shifting as another body climbs into the mountain of furs needed to keep out the deep Illyrian chill. Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against a very bare, and very icy chest.

You give a little squeak of discomfort as your mate tosses a leg around your waist, effectively trapping you against his body.

"Rhhhhyyyyssssss," you whine, voice still thick with sleep.

He kisses the top of your head, hands soothing down your back, even as the deep baritone of his laugh rumbles through his chest. "Morning, love."

"No morning. Sleep." You grumble, burying your head in his tattooed chest and squeezing your eyes shut. "We're on vacation. I'm sleeping."

The hand on your back trails lower, until he can, teasingly, give your ass a squeeze. "I can think of a few other activities we could be doing in this bed for our vacation."

In the early morning haze, your shields are completely down, and he slips right into your mind with the ghost of a caress, filling your head with images of your running your tongue along his body, tracing tattoo and muscle as he guides you onto his lap, letting you ride him slowly, leisurely, taking your time until you're both a mess. You can taste the tang of salt from the sweat that clings to his bare skin, hear those soft, breathy moans you love to drag out of him as you roll your hips over his, taking him deeper into your tight heat. Despite your desperate attempts to cling to sleep, heat pools in your lower belly.

"Rhys," you warn.

His other hand slips beneath your nightgown, dragging sensual fingers along your spine as his lips drop to your shoulder and leave slow, deliberate kisses along your exposed flesh.

"I'm not doing anything," he lies, the image he crafts shifting to him rolling you onto your back, his head between your legs, tongue lapping against your center, warm and wet in contrast to the bruising grip his hands keep on your thighs.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight; you can practically feel him inside you already.

"You're a terrible liar," you retort. Especially when the proof of his own arousal is flush against your hips.

His teeth nip at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his own hips rocking just enough that he can claim it’s an accident, even though you know it's not. You've been mated long enough now, you know his tells, can practically taste how much he wants you, even if he’s clever enough to tamper down on it through the bond so it doesn't blast you with the strength of it. Sometimes it still shocks you, just how much he wants you. You'd thought it would fade over time, had kept yourself up at night early in your relationship, convinced that eventually the High Lord of the Night Court would get bored having a simple little healer for a mate, but every day he calms those fears and shows you just how much he loves and wants you.

You can't help the little sigh that escapes you when he gets his lips on your throat, head tilting back reflexively to give him more access. Though your mind knows what it wants, your body moves on instinct, melting in his grip. This is as natural as breathing. The proximity of his body is calming, soothing the irritation of being woken up, filling your body with warmth.

His lips trail over your throat, along the underside of your jaw, warm breath caressing your quickly flushing skin, as he trails over your chin. He fills your mind with more images: You on your stomach, body flush with the mattress as his lips trail up your spine, hands caressing your bare skin in heated touches; the two of you in the shower, bodies slick with soap, caged against the damp stones and his chest, hips rutting leisurely into each other. Each image is a little more intense than the last, the bond flickering with the need he's been trying to hold at bay until you were more awake and ready for it.

You slide your hands over his bare chest, feeling the thundering beat of his heart against your palms as his lips finally slot over yours. Though he is more than ready for you, there is a leisurely pace to his movements; he knows he has time, days even, to have you. You'd come up to Illyria for a long weekend, and the Inner Circle is under strict orders to not contact either of you until you've returned to Velaris. Things have been tense in the city lately, Rhys' office cluttered with all the paperwork necessary to rebuild after the War with Hybern. Your little clinic has been full to the brim for weeks and weeks. Both of you have spent the better part of three months only seeing each other in passing before exhaustion pulls you into bed with little more than a kiss goodnight. You feel that lack of intimacy in his movements, in the way his body moves against yours. There is an air of desperation, only quelled with the knowledge that he can take his time with you.

And you with him. Fully awake now, your senses on alert, you are painfully aware of the ache between your legs. It's been too long. Far too long without this sort of intimacy. Your hands slide up his chest and shoulders, trailing until you can card your fingers through his hair.

He moans against your lips as you scrape your nails against his scalp. "Tell me..." his voice is a ragged, desperate thing, lips brushing with every word like he can't bear to drag himself any further away from your body. "Tell me to stop and I will."

Sleep is distant memory now, though you no longer mind it like you did a few minutes ago. You adjust the placement of your hips and manage to roll him onto his back, hips flush, his erection heavy and hot between your legs. You give your hips a little roll as you brace yourself on your elbows, brushing your chest against his as you lean down to kiss him once more.

"I've been convinced to get up," you tease.

His hands eagerly grip your hips, urging you to grind down on him as his tongue slips behind your teeth. Your bond hums appreciatively at the contact, the months of stress and separation slipping away.

"Although, I hope this doesn't become a habit of yours, you know I need my beauty sleep."

He releases his grip on your hips just long enough to find the hem of your nightgown and push it up and over your shoulders, letting the silken fabric fall somewhere in the pile of blankets you'd disturbed. Deft fingers trace the swell of your breasts, tweaking over nipples pebbled in the cool cabin air, before skimming back down your stomach until he can once again hold your hips.

"How could you possibly get any more beautiful than you already are?" He says, violet eyes tracing every bare inch of you, narrowing in on the lone piece of clothing separating you from him.

You kiss him again, trying to hide the blush that dusts your cheeks. You know he can feel it through the bond, know he knows just how much little things like that mean to you.

"So perfect," he murmurs, chasing after you when you break the kiss. You'd think you had starved him of affection for years on end with the way he keeps coming back, body shifting and rocking beneath you. Soft, little moans leave his lips every time you grind yourself a little harder against his cock, still separate from you by the thin layer of his sleep pants and your violet colored panties. You hadn't been paying too much attention to them when you'd changed last night, but the color and the little bow along the waistband are fitting now.

You try to pull away to rid him of his pants, too many layers between you, but he keeps you locked in place with a grip on your hips that's tight enough to leave a bruise.

"Want you out of these pants," you insist.

A small wave of his fingers has both your clothes disappearing into a random pocket realm for the time being, leaving his hands free to position the tip of his weeping cock against your entrance.

The first drag of his tip through your folds makes your head lull back, mouth falling open as you moan unabashedly. It has been far, far too long since you've been able to enjoy him like this.

"Look at my pretty girl, all ready for my cock," Rhys croons. "What was that about being tired, love?"

"Don't remember," you mumble, hands splaying across his chest to brace yourself as he slides into you an inch at a time.

He grins victoriously. "I've missed this."

It's always a bit of a stretch, taking all of him, especially after so long without him, but despite the desperation that claws down the bond at you, he takes his time, letting you adjust.

"Me too," you say, voice a breathless rasp as you try to find your bearings again. He's everywhere, filling you up so thoroughly you forget why you had reservations at all. You should have spent the whole night with him inside you, making up for lost time.

He's barely sheathed inside you before you start rocking your hips, forgoing all patience and chasing the pleasure that has started to build at the base of your spine. It's too much and not enough. Everything you need and yet not quite within reach yet.

He tuts at your neediness, holding you in place with a chuckle. "What's the rush, Darling?"

You gently drag your nails over the plains of his chest. Later, once the bond is satiated a little more, you'll take your time and run your tongue over every swirl of his tattoos. Let the dark ink lead you steadily down between his legs so you can take his glorious cock down your throat, but right now... right now the last three months are obvious in every coiled muscle of your body. You need him to move, hard and fast; to fill you up until the absence no longer feels like such a gaping wound.

"Move, please, Rhys," you beg.

He temporarily lets go of your hips so he can prop himself up on his elbows and kiss you properly, hips shifting upwards, cock driving deeper into your aching core.

You use the freedom to roll your hips, savoring the slight burn as he stretches you out further, body adjusting to his size. It's all a delicious torture you'll come back to time and time again.

You're not going to last very long at this rate, but there's no stopping your body from slowing down, from trying to savor it. The bond knows you still have days left to be slow. When he pulls out of the kiss, your lips automatically drop to his neck, kissing and sucking as many marks into his skin as you can.

One of his hands soothes down your back as the other goes back to your hip, helping you follow the quick pace of his thrusts as he slides almost all the way out of you and then right back in.

"So perfect," he purrs as he hits the spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Your natural reaction to the stimulation is to clamp your teeth down on his shoulder, and he lets out a groan that makes the coil in your belly even tighter. You love it when he's vocal for you, when he doesn't hold back the obvious sounds of his own enjoyment. Sometimes he gets too focused on your pleasure that he loses sight of his own.

Your bodies find a smooth rhythm, the headboard tapping the wall with the rocking motion of your bodies. The air filled with the sounds of your joining and the soft crackle of flames in the fire place. The flames cast your bodies in an orange halo, you trace the fractions of light across his bronze skin with your lips, just as his hands trace your skin.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, chanted and recited like worship as your bodies meet over and over again. Stars blur across your vision, maybe from your mate, maybe from the bond, it is hard to tell at this point. Not that it matters, as long as the heat coiled in the base of your spine continues to spread and fill you.

Rhys' hand slips between your legs, rubbing tight circles into your dripping heat. He hums appreciatively at the wetness that spills down your thighs, coating his cock in a milky rings as he slides in and out of you.

"'m'close," you murmur into his neck, where you've left a darkening bruise with your teeth. He looks so pretty all marked up by you.

His thrusts stutter at your words, losing the rhythm for a moment as you feel the muscles in his abdomen tighten against your pelvis. "Let go, I've got you," he assures, lips dusting over yours. He won't be far behind.

His fingers rub circles against your clit, drawing that blissful edge closer and closer with every pass. Your breath stutters out of you, hips rocking without rhythm, trying to chase the white hot pleasure that licks up your spine.

His own motions chase after yours, finding the rhythm again, hitting the perfect spot inside you once, twice, and a third before your orgasm crests and washes over you. The clenching of your core around his aching cock drives him into his own release, hips stuttering as he fills you with his own release.

Your bodies slow their movements as you collapse on top of his chest, sticky with sweat and your joint release. His heartbeat slows, becoming steady against your cheek as he catches his breath, hands soothing down your back.

"Did so good for me," he coos, lips pressing soft kisses against the top of your head.

You let your eyes drift shut as you catch your breath, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his body as you come down from your high. The bond finally quiets, content for now, and you stroke a mental hand down it, letting him know just how much he means to you through it.

Once you've both come down from your highs, he rolls you over onto your side so he can slide out of you, lips gently caressing yours when you wince from the over-stimulation. "I'll be right back."

Even though you believe it, it's still a loss, the lack of warmth obvious from the moment he leaves the bed to fill the tub with water. You need him back in your arms immediately and you will not be soothed until it is so.

Like he knows this, he's back quickly, but instead of sliding back under the covers, he lifts you up into his arms and carries you to the bathroom, where the tub is full of bubbles and sweet, jasmine scented oils. He doesn't even try to let go of you, especially not when you have your face buried in his neck, just steps into the tub and settles you comfortably in his lap in the delicious heat of the tub.

A sigh escapes your lips as the heat licks up your aching muscles, body relaxing as you close your eyes again. Rhys' hands sooth up your sides, drawing simple patterns into your skin as he rests his head atop yours.

"Are you all right, Darling?"

You let your own fingers trace the water droplets that adorn his tattooed chest, movements leisurely and slow. You can take your time now. "Perfect."

He leans back against the tub with a hum of approval. A flick of his wrist makes the lights dim and candles along the counter flair to life, bathing the room in a soft glow that feels like it's made to match the flicker of starlight you feel dancing around the bridge between your souls.

"I've missed you," you say as you tilt your head back to look at him.

Rhys presses a kiss to your temple as his magic brings a matching set of champagne glasses and bottle to sit along the edge of the tub. "We've spent too long apart," he agrees as a shadow of his power moves to pour the champagne for him. "Let's definitely not make a habit of it."

You take the glass despite the bubbles that drip from your hands and tap it against his in toast. "Agreed."

To go with your drink, a plate of fruits and pastries appears, the later still warm, a curl of steam slipping out the sides. You raise a brow at him. "Whose oven are you pulling these out of?"

He grins as he takes a grape off the plate and offers it to you. "Maybe I made them before you woke up."

The fruit bursts in your mouth, but even the pleasant flavor isn't enough to distract you. "Darling, you are many things, but a pastry chef is not one of them."

"Fair enough," he concedes, bringing a strawberry to your lips this time.

After months of tending to so many other people, it is nice to have someone taking care of you. Your muscles relax further against his body, letting the gentle lapping of the water soothe any residual discomfort as he feeds you.

"I thought about making you something I could cook, but I didn't want to leave you alone that long. We only have so much time before we have to go back."

You take a sip of your champagne and reach for a croissant with chocolate dripping from the sides, but he snags it first and brings it within reach of your mouth for you.

"Maybe we should extend our vacation," you don't like the heaviness you feel when he sighs, not when you finally have a moment to not think about it. "Just for another day or two?"

He steals a bite of your croissant as he thinks about it.

"Amren can handle things for one more day," you suggest as you drag your fingers between the plains of his chest. "We've earned a vacation and more than our fair share of rest."

He leans down to kiss you gently. "That you have, Darling."

"Both of us," you press. "Besides, I didn't get out of our comfy bed for nothing, I think we still have some catching up to do."

Stars glitter in his violet eyes as he takes his glass from the edge of the tub and taps it against yours in another toast. "Yes we do."

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand x reader fluff #Rhys x reader #Rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #asks #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #acotar smut #pro-rhysand #Rhys fic #rhysand fic #rhysand fluff fic #fluffy #aftercare #established relationship #mating bond

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ghostgirl-22 · 2 days ago

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Hi! <3 You’re like my favorite writer for Artrick! I swear you characterize them perfectlyyy

I keep thinking about the idea of Art and Patrick going on a date when he’s at Stanford. Like obviously Art wouldn’t admit it’s a date, but I imagine it’s after Art reluctantly admits that he wants to hang with Patrick alone when he comes to visit and that he’s a bit jealous of Tashi. So they basically have an unofficial date night. How do you think this would go, and how would Art go about initiating something physical between them because he’s obviously not gay right?

Okay but you’re actually such an amazingly talented writer and I love your stuff so much! Thanks so much for this request I honestly don’t think I did this ask justice and I’m sorry it was so long but I hope this attempt brings you some amusement <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! 3.8kish words

—-

It’s not that Art is jealous. He’s not jealous. He’s not. But up until now Patrick’s always called him and stopped by on his little trips to Stanford. It’s not like he expects Patrick to stay long, he knows he’s not the main event… but he at least expects him to come by.

So when Patrick shows up at his door three days later, asking if he can stay in Art’s room, Art tries his best not to express his irritation that he hasn’t once come by his room till now. And it really stings because Art knows the only reason he’s here now is because of the limit on how many days he can consecutively “visit” her dorm.

“You’re saving me man,” Patrick says, patting his arm as he drops his duffle on Art’s designated chair full of stuff.

Art shrugs. “Yeah well. Happy to be an afterthought.” He mumbles.

Patrick raises his eyebrows and then gives him a crooked smile. “You are never an afterthought.”

“It’s fine,” Art says, already embarrassed that he brought it up. “You’re dating Tashi Duncan. It’s totally understandable dude.” He tries to sound nonchalant, hopeful that it’s how he comes across. He feels like he spends so much time these days swallowing down on feelings. Feelings he can’t name, feelings he doesn’t even really understand. None of them jealousy. He’s really not jealous.

He does often wonder what they do alone. He thinks about what they do in bed since the most he really knows is that they’re fucking. He knows Patrick calls her all the time because he doesn’t really call Art that much anymore. They used to sit on the phone for hours, barely talking or talking too much, sometimes till late in the night. The same way they did when they were sharing a room in high school. But gradually it became, Patrick leaving the call earlier and earlier. To Patrick not really calling that often at all.

“You know, you can help me with something actually,” Patrick says, flopping onto Arts bed.

“What?”

“I’m taking her on a date tonight, we’re going to get dinner and see a movie.”

“Oh,” Art says. “What movie?”

“The new Saw movie. What number are they on now? 11?” Patrick laughs.

“Oh I didn’t know she’d like something like that,” Art says carefully.

”Yeah well, she saw the first one and she said liked it. She never got around to the others. I asked her if she’d be scared to see it but she said even if she was… she wouldn’t mind being scared if I was there. Isn’t that kinda… hot?”

Art shrugs again, swallowing it down.

”Sorry, is this hard to hear?” Patrick asks, patting his cheek.

“Fuck off,” Art mutters. “I’m just… I’m thinking about my game on Sunday. I’m not really worried about your relationship actually.” He lies.

“Good cause I was just gonna ask for your advice on what to wear. She tends to dress up for this kinda thing and I don’t want her to be annoyed if I show up in shorts and a t-shirt again.”

“You want me to help you pick out an outfit?”

“Yeah… you’re always put together,” Patrick says.

“All your clothes are tailored. Just pick something.” Art says, dryly.

“Okay but I want to wear something comfortable. Not something that makes me look like I’m about to donate a hefty sum at some stuffy fundraiser.”

Art sighs, “fine what’d you bring? Lay it out.”

Patrick empties his duffle on the bed, everything he has that isn’t training gear, playing gear and t-shirts is all wrinkled but Art has an iron. He helps Patrick pick something out. He’s still irritated, but he thinks he covers it well.

He’s actually stunned by how happy it makes him when Tashi calls and says she has to cancel. She does kids tennis lessons for extra spending money and a client wanted her help to prep for a game in the early morning.

Patrick’s talking to her, his tone understanding making her feel better about canceling last minute and promising to see the movie another time. He’s such a good boyfriend. It’s so weird that he’s not fucked it up by now. Art can’t remember Patrick ever dating anyone this long before.

Art’s sitting on his bed, back up against the wall, kicking his feet over the edge, listening to him.

“Sorry man, you’re stuck with me all night,” Patrick says after he hangs up. He knees the bed and sinks into it, settling down and leaning close to Art, he picks up his half ironed slacks and frowns.

“Mm… why don’t we go out?” Art suggests.

Patrick laughs and so does Art, feeling himself beginning to flush.

“Or… I mean… we could just hang out. Watch Hell’s Kitchen or something,” Art says quickly. He looks up when Patrick doesn't reply and Patrick is staring at him, a peculiar look on his face.

“Fuck it, let’s go out.” Patrick smirks. “You can be my date.”

“Yeah? Why not?” Art smiles. “I mean who says two friends can’t go out for dinner and a movie.”

Patrick laughs a bit, his expression flitting quickly between amusement and something Art can’t recognize. “Mm right. Platonic date night. Here we come. You have something nice right?”

”Yeah,” Art says. “I can wear that one shirt I wore to the awards dinner last year.”

“Oh yeah, you look so hot in blue, wear that,” Patrick teases.

“Shut up,” Art smirks, ignoring the weird feeling that blossoms in his chest after Patrick calls him hot.

They get dressed. Patrick’s clothes fit him so well. He’s in an outfit that might read as casual (fitted t-shirt, slacks, and a blazer) if not for the simple elegance of it all being quietly wealthy.

He’s also got a great body and anything fitted on him is going to bring that out. Art doesn’t think about his body often or anything like that, it’s just something he notices. The sky is blue, water is wet and Patrick Zweig has a great body. It just is.

They go to the movies first. “I prefer that when I go out on a date, so we have something to talk about over dinner or drinks,” Patrick explains as he drives them over to the theater in his jeep. “You know in case the date is boring. Not that that’s ever the case with Tashi. Actually, you know what’s crazy? I feel like she’s as easy for me to talk to as you are.”

“Hm,” Art says, swallowing down on something bitter in his throat. “Well I think you should try to find a balance. Talk to other people. You don’t want to scare her away by only ever talking to her.”

“Oh is that what you think?” Patrick says, smirking. “I don’t only talk to her actually. I’ve just got a lot of pressure on me. The only time I get a chance to rest I’m so exhausted— I got one phone call in me and so you know…”

“Oh,” Art says. “Well yeah I guess that makes sense.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” Patrick asks.

“Mm, I mean… I think I might be interested in this girl on the team. She’s really good.” Art lies. He’s not really interested in anyone and he’s probably wasting his time, thinking more about Patrick and Tashi than he spends thinking about his own social life. He wants her so bad unfortunately every other girl he meets just pales in comparison.

—-

They’re actually on the 4th Saw movie, and it’s as stupid as Art might have expected. They laugh about it over dinner at Applebees. Patrick’s got this pretty realistic looking fake id so he orders a drink and they split it when the waitress isn’t looking. Not that she cares, she’s also a Stanford student. She’s been to a few tennis games to watch Tashi play but she knows Art is the number one singles player on the men’s team.

“You’re really good,” she smiles at him and he can feel his skin flushing as Patrick grins at him from across the table.

”Thanks uh— but Patrick actually plays professionally.” Art says.

“That’s so cool,” she says, she smiles at Patrick and then looks back at Art. “I would love to learn to just hit the ball over the net.” She laughs.

”He can teach you that easy,” Patrick says. Art kicks him under the table and he just grins wider.

“Can you really?” The waitress asks, flipping her pretty blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Yeah I mean… whenever,” Art says, awkwardly.

“Cool, I’ll be back. You guys want anything else?”

Patrick gives Art a meaningful look and then orders a second drink.

“When were you gonna tell me you got number one singles?” Patrick asks, watching her as she walks away.

“I figured Tashi told you,” Art says.

“Yeah but you should have told me,” Patrick says. “She’s hot right?” He adds, gesturing back towards the waitress.

“I mean… I can tell her you think she’s hot,” Art says. “I don’t think she believes you’re actually dating Tashi anyway.”

Patrick laughs, “God you’re such a dick. I meant for you. That would be a fun night.”

“I guess,” Art says, rubbing his palms on his lap. It’s all he has to say for Patrick to keep teasing him throughout the rest of the night, getting her to come back over and flirt with Art. He orders more and more drinks which she happily brings over.

In spite of the teasing, it’s actually really fun. Of course Art has been to movies with Patrick before, even gone out to dinner with him and their friends or family before, but this feels different. Art can’t figure out why… maybe because he gets to be in Tashi’s place. Maybe because it feels like old times.

They probably spend two and half hours in Applebees talking about the movie, high school, tennis, their parents, video games, girls and anything else that pops into their heads. They only leave because its 12 am and the restaurant’s closing. By then they’ve split a total of six cocktails and Art is feeling so tipsy.

“How much is it?” He asks when the waitress brings the bill.

“I’ll take care of it,” Patrick says.

“Dude it’s okay we can split,” Art says.

“No relax, it’s our platonic date night, right?” Patrick pulls out his credit card. “I can give you this though.”

He hands Art the non singable copy of the receipt and on the bottom the waitress left a note: For whenever you decide to teach me how to serve, Jenny. Followed by her phone number and a heart.

“She drew a heart and everything,” Patrick teases.

”It’s for you,” Art says, shyly.

“It’s so clearly for you, Stanford boy,” Patrick smirks.

“We probably have to take a cab home,” Art hiccups. Changing the subject. He does slip the receipt into his jeans pocket though.

“Oh yeah,” Patrick says. “You’re so responsible by the way. I love that about you.”

Art snorts a laugh and Patrick starts laughing too. Patrick leaves a big tip and they call a cab. Art promises to come back with him to pick up his jeep in the morning and they share a cigarette while waiting for the cab. When it arrives they hop in the backseat for the 25 minute ride back to campus.

Art’s feeling sleepy, the combination of food, alcohol and a long car ride is lethal for him. He closes his eyes, head slipping to settle on Patrick’s shoulder. Distantly, he feels Patrick rest a hand on his thigh and he opens his eyes, suddenly wide awake. It should be a nothing feeling but Art goes rigid, he feels it all up and down his spine and even worse, his cock starts to wake up.

“Did you have fun?” Patrick asks, quietly.

“Yeah,” Art says, he stares at the meter on the cab. He feels so dizzy and confused as Patrick’s fingers play a light pitter patter along his thigh.

“I’m sorry I’m not… free all the time. Like in high school, you know?” His voice is soft, Art can almost feel the vibration of it from where he’s leaning. He can feel Patrick’s breath on his cheek. It makes no sense the way his body is reacting. Maybe he’s drunker than he thought.

“Uh,” Art sits up. “Don’t worry about it. We’re both um— busy.”

“I know,” Patrick says, he’s still playing the pattern on Art’s thigh. “But I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”

Art feels anxious, he looks up front, he can see the driver glancing back at them in the rear view. “Look… obviously your girlfriend comes first. We can do bro stuff whenever…” Art says as he gently eases Patrick’s hand off his thigh even though it feels nice. His heart is racing like he’s running some kind of marathon he doesn’t know why but it’s probably just the drinks. All the alcohol making his head all fuzzy.

“Yeah,” Patrick sighs. “Bro stuff.” He rests his head against the back of the seat and they’re mostly quiet for the rest of the ride. Arts mind is racing. All he can think about is how close they are but how much it feels like something is slipping away.

The halls are mostly empty as they get back to the dorm. There’s a few students still up. A couple talking softly to each other. One girl on the floor with her headphones plugged in watching something on her laptop. Some guy exits his room, talking on his cellphone as he breezes past them.

“You think I can sneak back to her room or no?” Patrick asks, one arm resting on the door frame as Art leans in to unlock his room.

Art feels his heart still beating oddly fast, probably because Patrick is right behind him. He’s never been able to manage personal space as long as they’ve been friends but right now Art is just so… aware of him. “You can stay here. It’s just one night. I’ll even let you have the bed all to yourself.” Art says.

“It’d be two nights. I leave on Sunday.”

“Okay, two nights then,” Art pushes open the door, breaking the closeness. It feels like a temporary bit of relief.

Patrick follows him in and slips off his shoes. “That’s the one thing I hate about dressing up. Fucking boat shoes.”

Art smiles. “I’m really drunk I think.” He says, kicking off his own shoes.

“Yeah?” Patrick smirks.

“Yeah, I don’t know how I’m gonna make it to practice tomorrow.”

“Isn’t it in the afternoon?” Patrick pulls off his jacket and then his t-shirt. He digs through his duffle for something to put on.

“Yeah but still.” Art realizes then he’s been watching Patrick undress, like he hasn’t seen him butt naked before. He shakes his head and goes to change into his own night clothes.

“Don’t be mad,” Patrick says as Art gets his jeans off.

“What?”

“I think I need a session, maybe I found that waitress hotter than I realized,” he’s in his boxers holding himself. His eyes fall over Art’s body.

Art looks down and swallows. He’s seen Patrick erect before… even touched it… But they were a lot younger last time. They’d actually grown out of doing it in front of each other a long time ago.

But ever since Patrick brought it up that night… ever since they kissed… Art’s mind would occasionally wander to what it might be like to see it again. And now there it was… just… right in front of him. Patrick holding it idly like it’s not ridiculous to be carrying all of that around. Art’s fingers twitch, his mouth is suddenly too wet and he swallows again. The worst part… he’s getting hard.

Patrick sighs. “I’ll go in the bathroom.”

“Um…” Art can hear his heartbeat in his ears, he sits on his bed just because his knees are shaky. “I thought… I think she’s hot too.”

Patrick is still for a moment watching him, before he smiles and approaches Art. “Right? I think it was the skirt. I mean those fucking legs.”

Art nods. He reaches for Patrick. His head is all fuzzy, his ears are ringing and Patrick straddles him on the bed. Art touches it through his boxers. It’s heavy and really, really full.

Patrick eases his fingers into Art’s hair. “And she’s blonde….I think I like blondes more than I should.”

Art grips him properly. It’s not just lengthy, it’s thick. The only thing he can think about is what it might feel like in— in— just in.

He rubs it up and down, like it’s his own. He’s never done anything like this before so he’s shocked when Patrick reacts, “Fuck,” he gasps, this quiet sound that makes Art shiver. Art grabs at the front of his boxers and eases them down, revealing a shock of dark hair and Patrick’s cock as it bobs forward. Circumcised, all pink, and all so real. So much bigger than the last time Art saw it like this.

He leans over and licks at the shaft.

“Whoa,” Patrick breathes and then he chuckles.

“I uh—‘m sorry,” Art looks up at him, anxious that maybe this is too much, too far. That he did something wrong.

“God Art. You’re so fucking…” Patrick breathes and settles down on Art’s lap. He takes Art’s face in his hands and kisses him. Art breathes in as their lips touch. It almost feels the way it felt that night. Something warm, almost on fire. Their chemistry overwhelming.

God, is he into this? Is he into Patrick? He thought it was all because of Tashi but this still feels good even when she’s not watching. And right now Art knows he wants to feel more of Patrick’s tongue. He wants to lick his cock again. His mouth hasn’t really stopped feeling wet, but the kiss feels good in spite of it…maybe because of it. He finds himself exploring every inch of Patrick’s mouth. His heart is still racing. He knows Patrick can feel how hard he is. The way he feels Patrick poking against his stomach. He grips it and gets excited when Patrick hums a pretty little moan.

Patrick eases them out of the kiss and looks at Art, fingers tangled in his hair. His cheeks are all flushed and rosey. His freckles are so vivid up close. He’s actually incredible. “You want to taste it again?” He asks, brushing up against Art’s lips.

“Mmhm,” Art nods.

Patrick takes a deep breath and he actually stands up in front of Art, so his cock is just right in front of Arts face. Art stares at him and nibbles on his thumb. Patrick’s got freckles on his tummy, just a couple spattered here and there. Art wants to lick those too.

He sits up and grips Patrick’s cock again. It feels so warm he must run at a thousand degrees. Art licks at him. He can see the way Patrick’s muscles tense. Hear his little breaths. Art starts licking more. Up and down, all over the length of him. He likes how it feels along his tongue. The heat of it, how soft and solid it is at the same time. He likes the taste and the smell, salty and heady. He sees the pearls leaking from the tip and tastes that. He really likes how it tastes so he sucks on the tip a little more. And it’s all punctuated by the way its affecting Patrick.

“Mm, fuck sweetheart, I know you want to explore but this feels insane.” Patrick breathes. “You’re gonna mess around and make me shove it in your mouth.”

Art feels warm at the way he says sweetheart. And the thought that Patrick might lose control over him.

He opens up and takes in more.

“Fuuckk,” Patrick sighs like he’s sinking into a warm bath. Art closes his eyes and runs his tongue over the length. He’s almost sure he can taste Patrick’s heart beating through it. It feels incredible and Patrick starts moaning for him which makes Art begin to lose himself in it. It’s too big to get it all inside at once but he tries to take a little more. His mouth is so wet that when he pulls back spit drips onto his thighs. He licks and then takes it in again, more this time.

“Oh shit,” Patrick gasps. He starts moving his hips like he can’t control himself and Art needs to grab on to keep him from shoving it too deep. But he likes the sliding feeling as it moves back and forth over his tongue. His own cock is aching. He feels like he might start pushing up against the air too. It’s so hot how he’s the one doing this to Patrick. It’s all him. His mouth. His tongue.

“Can you look at me?” Patrick gasps.

Art hums and looks up as it’s sliding out of his mouth, he takes a small breath before taking it back in again but his mouth starts filling immediately. Art feels it hot and thick slipping down his throat and he starts coughing. Which makes it start spilling everywhere, dripping off his lips and Patrick’s still coming so Art licks around the tip to try and taste it.

“No… wait, fuck, fuck… that’s too sensitive just… relax,” Patrick gasps, breathlessly. He pulls his shorts back up and stumbles to sit on the bed next to him. He rubs his thumb over Art’s messy lips, Art licks at it and Patrick smiles letting him suck it for a minute before pulling it away and sucking it into own mouth. “Come here.” He rubs his thighs.

Art stares at him for a minute and then moves to straddle him. “Sit,” Patrick says, softly.

Art settles on his lap.

“Have you ever done that before?” Patrick asks, rubbing him over his boxers.

“No, is it okay?” Art asks, his voice a little hoarse.

“So fucking okay,” Patrick says and he starts kissing him immediately. It feels so satisfying, rubbing his tongue along Patricks after having a mouth full of him. He feels Patrick’s fingers ease into his boxers, gripping his cock where Patrick starts jerking him off properly. That combined with the stimulation from the kissing makes Art finish embarrassingly quickly all over Patrick’s fingers and in his shorts.

“Mm I need another cigarette,” Patrick laughs, licking his fingers and gazing at Art.

Art swallows hard, mildly panicked now that he’s back in his right mind. He climbs off of Patrick’s lap.

“What?” Patrick asks. ”And don’t say sorry.”

Art bites his tongue and takes a deep breath. “I think I drank too much.”

Patrick grins. “I don’t know. You kinda spilled some of it,” he gestures to Art’s lap, a bit of pearly liquid settled there.

“That’s not funny,” Art says, biting down on a smile.

“Oh it’s really funny.” Patrick says, getting to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Art asks. Strangely enough he just kinda wants to be near him.

“I’m gonna wash my hands,” he says. “And clean up a bit.”

Art bites his lip.

“You want to come?”

Art nods and gets to his feet. “I’ll just brush my teeth and um… change my…” he gestures vauguely.

Patrick smirks and beckons for Art to lead the way. “So,” Patrick says. “Where do you wanna go tomorrow night?”

#challengers #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #challengers fic #challengers smut #art x patrick #artrick

74 notes · View notes

daisymbin · 2 days ago

Note

angst 2. "you promised you wouldn’t hurt me."

reader says something mean during an argument and dk starts tearing up. happy ending pls!

reading this req already hurts 🥲

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // seokmin's m.list

angst prompt #2: "you promised you wouldn't hurt me."

it started with something small. a mix-up about dinner plans spiraled into something deeper, words sharper than they needed to be. the kind of argument that left no room for clarity, only feelings.

“do you even care, seokmin?” you snapped, your frustration peaking. “sometimes it feels like you’re just… here. like you don’t even love me as much as i love you.”

silence.

the moment the words left your mouth, you wanted to take them back. the way seokmin’s expression fell—like you’d reached into his chest and crushed something fragile—made your chest tighten painfully.

his brows knitted together, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. he just stood there, looking at you like he was trying to convince himself he’d misheard.

“you don’t mean that,” he said softly, his voice trembling.

you didn’t respond, too caught in the regret and shame that threatened to drown you.

“you don’t mean that,” he repeated, louder this time, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you.

“seokmin, i—” you started, but he cut you off, his voice breaking.

“you promised you wouldn’t hurt me,” he said, barely louder than a whisper. his words were shaky, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “you said i could trust you. that you’d never make me feel small, like i wasn’t enough.”

you froze, the weight of his words settling on your chest like a boulder.

“is that really what you think?” he asked, his voice cracking. “that i don’t love you enough? after everything?”

“no, seokmin, that’s not—”

“then why would you say it?” he demanded, his voice rising just slightly, the pain evident in every syllable. “you don’t get to say something like that and act like it doesn’t hurt me. like it doesn’t make me feel like i’m failing you.”

his words knocked the breath out of you. you’d never seen him like this—so raw, so vulnerable.

“i don’t think that,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “i was angry, and i wasn’t thinking. i know you love me, seokmin. i know how much you try, how much you care. i just—” you exhaled shakily, your throat tightening.

your chest ached as you stepped closer to him, your hands trembling at your sides. “i was frustrated, and i didn’t know how to handle it. but that’s not an excuse, and you didn’t deserve it. you’re the last person i’d ever want to hurt, seokmin.”

he looked at you for a long moment, his breathing uneven as he tried to process your words. then, slowly, he shook his head.

“i’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “i’m scared that one day you’ll decide i’m not enough for you. that you’ll leave, and i won’t know what i did wrong because i tried so hard to love you the best way i could.”

your heart shattered at his confession, and you couldn’t stop the tears that spilled from your eyes.

“seokmin,” you said, stepping closer and reaching for his hand. “you are enough. more than enough. i was wrong to say what i did, and i’m so, so sorry.” you squeezed his hand tightly, desperate for him to believe you. “i love you, seokmin. i love you so much, and i’ll do whatever it takes to prove it.”

his gaze softened, though the pain was still evident in his eyes. “i don’t need you to prove it,” he said quietly. “i just need you to mean it. to not say things like that, even when you’re upset.”

“i promise,” you said, your voice firm despite the tears streaming down your face. “i’ll never hurt you like that again.”

he nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a faint, trembling smile. “okay.”

you pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly as his arms wrapped around you. he buried his face in your shoulder, his body shaking with a mix of relief and lingering emotion.

“you know,” he said after a long moment, his voice muffled, “this is the part where i’m supposed to make a cheesy joke to lighten the mood.”

you laughed softly, the sound breaking through the heaviness in the room. “go ahead. i could use a cheesy seokmin joke right now.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes still red but his smile brighter now. “okay, but don’t get mad when it’s so bad you forget why you were sad.”

you rolled your eyes, a small grin tugging at your lips. “i’ll take my chances.”

“why did the scarecrow win an award?” he asked, his tone serious but his eyes sparkling with a familiar warmth.

you blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. “why?”

“because he was outstanding in his field.”

the laugh that bubbled out of you was instant, and he grinned, his expression softening as he watched you.

“see? you’re already forgetting,” he teased, his voice light and affectionate.

“you’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head but smiling nonetheless.

“that i do,” you whispered, your voice steady and full of conviction. “and i always will.”

“yeah, but you love me,” he said, pulling you back into his arms.

100 notes · View notes

samandcolbyownme · 1 day ago

Note

Can we get birthday smut with Sam for his birthday tomorrow!!! Please

I think I got this request yesterday, so that would make today Sam’s birthday! 🖤

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, kissing, hair pulling, biting, scratching, unprotected sex, creampie, fluffy filth

Word Count: 1.8k | unedited

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“Don’t sweat it okay?” Sam assures, “It’s okay. Your job is.. complicated sometimes.”

You let out a sigh, “I know, but tomorrow is your birthday Sam.. I just.. I hate to miss it.”

“Listen.” Sam pauses, “The only person I really care about spending my birthday with, is you. And if I have to celebrate it another day, that’s fine by me. I’m okay, baby. I promise.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, y/n.” He chuckles, “I’m sure.”

“You’re sure you’re sure?”

“Y/n.”

“Okay.” You laugh, “I’ll let you know when I land in Florida. We’re about to take off here soon, so..”

“Safe travels. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I love you.”

“I love you.”

You hang up and look at Tara, “He’s going to be so mad at me for lying to him.” She shakes her head, “I don’t think he’ll be mad. You’re lying for good reason.”

“Yeah.” You nod, “I think you’re right.”

You rest your head back, staring out the window as you see people move down on the ground by the plane. You felt bad, but also, you felt proud.

You managed to get out of work early enough to make it home for Sam’s birthday, but you, Tara, and Colby managed to keep it under lock and key the last few days.

You knew Sam sounded sad, but he was trying to be happy for you.

You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he seen you, specifically on his birthday.

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“So he doesn’t want to do anything?” You look at Colby and scoff, “I know I didn’t.. ruin it.. but I feel like I did.”

Colby shakes his head, “He just misses you. You’ve been gone a week, and it’s not your fault that you had to be away when it was his birthday, he knows that.”

You sigh, “I know, but I just hope that me coming home actually helps.”

“Oh it will.” Colby chuckles, “He spent hours last night rambling on about how he feels bad for being sad, but I told him the same thing as I told you, don’t feel bad. It’s normal.”

You take a deep breath as you see the house come into view and you can’t help but shake a little with excitement, “So where is he?”

“Upstairs. He chose to edit our video. Jake wanted to take him out but he refused.”

“I’ll get him out of the house.” You smirk at Colby, “Don’t worry.”

You get out, stepping back to the back passenger door and Colby walks around, talking quietly, “Go. I’ll bring them in.”

You nod, looking towards house, and you can’t help but smile. You walk to the front door, quietly sneaking inside and looking around.

You hear music playing from upstairs, and you make your way towards the steps. You tiptoe to Sam’s door, peaking around the opening.

His back is facing you, laptop on his lap as he clicks away.

“How are you going to celebrate your birthday if you’re too into that video?”

Sam whips around, laptop falling to the floor as he stands up, “Oh my.. god. How are you-“ he rushes over to you, wrapping you tightly in a hug, “How are you here!?”

Your arms wrap his neck, “I just am.”

“What about work, you won’t get-“

“Sam.” You lay a hand over his mouth, “I took care of everything..” you raise your brows, “okay?”

He nods and tilts his head back to get his mouth uncovered, “Fine, then give me a kiss.”

You smile, leaning in to press your lips to his.

It instantly deepens.

Sam reaches behind you, pushing his door closed as he walks backwards towards the bed. He sits down, your legs on either side of his hips and you grind down.

He lets out a low groan against your lips, “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

You kiss back his jaw, “I’ve missed you, too, birthday boy.” You nip his ear with your teeth, “since that’s what you are, I’ll let you do anything you want to me.”

You feel his body tense at your words, his hands tighten their grip on your hips, “Oh, really?”

You lean back, your hands sliding down his chest to grip the hem of his shirt, “oh really.” You smirk, pushing his shirt up his chest and pulling it over his head, “Anything you want.”

He bites his lip, tilting his head as his eyes trail down your body on his lap, “I can think of one thing.”

You reach down, gripping your shirt to pull it up over your head, “Ooh, do tell.”

His hands slide up and down your sides, “Mm, in a minute.” He pulls you back in, leaning back to lay down as your lips meet his.

His hands slide down to your ass, gripping tightly.

He rolls over, his hand sliding around your hip to slip his fingers into the band of your leggings, “I think..” he bites his lip, eyes meeting yours as he slides his hand in to press his fingers to your clit, “I want to fill that perfect little pussy of yours.”

You let out a quiet moan, “Yes.”

“Yeah?” Sam raises his brows, his fingers adding pressing as they circle, “You alright with that?”

“So alright with that.” You pull him in to close the space, biting down on his lip which earns a gasp from him, “Can I do something first?”

“Of course.” Sam pulls his hand out, moving to sit up, but you stop him with a hand on his chest, “Lay back.”

He smirks, knowing exactly what you’re about to do.

“Just lay back, and enjoy this.” You look up at him, “Birthday boy.”

“I’ll do anything for you.” He smiles and you playfully roll your eyes as you shrug his pants and boxers down his thighs.

You were gone a week, but it felt like years.

Your lip pulls between your teeth as your eyes scan up and down his hard cock that springs free from its hold, “I’ve missed you.” You look up at Sam and he nods, “I can agree to th-“

He gasps as your lips wrap around the tip of his cock, tongue swirling over it, “F-fuck.” His hand moves to lay on your head, “That’s it.”

You take more of him in, tilting your head forward as your tongue flattens around the underside.

Your hands press to his thighs as you work your head in a steady rhythm.

“Oh shit.” He groans, “So good at this, baby. Fuck.”

You hum slightly, sending pleasure to radiate through his lower half. He moans louder, bucking his hips as he holds your head still, “Just like that, sweetheart.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, moaning around him as his fingers tangle your hand around them, pulling hard.

He lifts your head up, pulling you towards him with the grip on your hair. His lips connect to yours as your hands move to push down your pants.

You lean back, kicking them off before straddling his lap. His lip pulls between his teeth as he watches you line yourself up with him, “God you are so beautiful.”

You smirk, jaw falling slack as you sink down onto him slowly. A long moan leaves your lips as your nails dig into his shoulders, “Fuck, Sam. I’ve needed you so bad.”

He nods, “I’ve needed you.”

He reaches up, pulling you down to kiss you once more, “You feel so fucking good.”

You move your hips up and down, rolling them forward and back, moaning with each movement.

Your hand slides up to his hair, tugging to tilt his head back as you kiss down his neck. He groans lowly as you bite and suck a mark into his neck, bucking his hips upward which earns a moan from you.

Your pace quickens, slamming down onto him as your nails drag down his chest.

He groans, gripping your wrists and pinning them behind you to your lower back. He holds you in place as he thrusts upward into you.

Your moans ring through his ears, causing him to moan, “You sound so beautiful.”

“I love making you feel good.”

“I love making you sound like this.”

“Your pussy is going to look so pretty with my cum dripping out of it.”

His words make you gasp, “Fuck, yes Sam. Please.”

He groans into your neck, letting go of your wrists before rolling you over onto your back. His thrusts pick up, hard and fast, “Yes what, baby?”

Your back lifts off the bed, pleasure radiates through your body as you approach your peak, “F-fuck, Sam.” You moan out loudly, “I want you to fill my pussy.”

He groans at your words, “They’re so much hotter when you say it.”

His lips attack yours, quickly moving down to litter your skin with purple marks. Your nails drag up his back, leaving red lines in their path, “Fuck, fuck don’t stop, don’t stop!”

You cry out repeatedly, your legs tightening around his hips as he guides you through your high.

“That’s it, baby.” Sam groans, “You feel so good, look so pretty when you cum.”

You whimper at his words, your body jolting with each thrust of pleasure that enters your body over and over again.

All you can do is moan.

“Right there with you.” Sam moan, “Fuck, fuck.”

He pushes his weight up, holding himself up with his arm by your head. His hand lays on your cheek as his eyes lock onto yours.

His thrusts grow sloppy, slowing down as you feel his cock start to twitch inside of you.

This was something you and Sam were always so careful about not doing, but you had a feeling that this was the first day of something that wasn’t ever going to end - and you didn’t want it to.

You moan at the feeling, biting down onto your lip as his slow thrusts come to a stop.

He sits up, staring down as he slowly pulls out of you.

He smirks, biting down into his lip, “Fuckin’ beautiful.”

You feel your cheeks turn warm and you laugh slightly as he gets up, “Was it everything you’ve ever hoped it would be?”

“Oh baby.” Sam walks back over with a towel, “It was everything and more.” He leans down, pecking your head before he lets you wipe off.

You watch as he looks around for his pants and you tilt your head, “Ready to celebrate your birthday now?”

Sam shrugs, “I mean.. what do you have in mind because it’s probably something a lot different than what’s in mine.”

You smirk, getting up onto your knees, “I mean.. I want to take you out.. but..” you reach out for him, “Another round couldn’t hurt.”

Sam smirks and drops his pants, “Maybe you can read my mind.”

.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Thank you so much for being patient. I kind of rushed through this one so my apologies if it seemed that way. I love you so much, thank you for reading my work! I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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sturniolo04 · 2 days ago

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Panic Attack M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you :)

You were never the anxious type. For as long a s you could remember you didn't have anxious bone in your body. You constantly carried yourself with pure joy, contentment, and happiness. So, when you started dating Matt, you couldn't always relate and understand the anxious and sometimes depressive highs and lows he would go through but being his girlfriend, you really tried to understand and help as best as you could through the lows especially when they got really low.

This brings you to now, you are currently sitting on the couch in your apartment next to Matt, studying for another medical exam you have to take to pass this class to get you one step to majoring and having a career as a pediatrician, it being your dream, since your mom is one and you always looked up to her. You let out what you thought was a normal deep breath.

"you okay"

matt asks simply glancing over to you.

"yeah why wouldnt I be"

you slightly giggle out as Matt shakes his head playfully.

"no reason"

he replys shrugging his shoulders fixating his attention back on his computer in front of him.

" i mean i am almost done with studying I am going to get through this exam I think"

you hesitantly squeal out not being fully aware of the toll the work was getting to you and your mental state just yet.

"okay thats good im glad you feel confident about it. Are you ready to take a break and go get lunch."

matt asks as you huff out and agreement as he stands up and extends his hand out to you to help you get off of the couch.

You two hopped into his car and headed to a Chickfila to get lunch.

"you want to go in or drive thru"

matt as you two were stopped at the red light before the left turn in the parking lot. You were fixates on scrolling through a series of exams and essays you had no idea were even on your plate to complete within the next couple of months before the fall semester is over.

"baby"

matt stated gaining your attention back to reality.

"huh oh yeah um drive thru actually"

you speak up trying to forget about what you saw on your phone and that you were beginning to freak out due to the fact you have yet to write the first sentence of.

"okay are you here with me"

matt chuckles out as he reaches over running his palm on your leg in the passenger seat as he pulls up to the ordering screen in the drive thru.

"yeah sorry i just didnt realize i had more essays to write otherwise I would have said we could go in but"

you simply state out as matt start rubbing you thigh comfortably, already sensing a little bit of overwhelm that was completely going unnotice by his very own girlfriend.

"yeah its okay i get that we will get our food and head back to your place and get them done okay"

he reassures as you sigh out again.

"plus we also still have dinner with Chris Nick and Madison Beer so and that's not until later so we will still go out to eat today"

he chuckles out as he places his hand to thread through your head as you hum out in contentment.

Time Skip

you guys had made it back to your apartment with lunch and you two were sitting at the table you neatly placed in the kitchen area. You were hyperfocused on starting the essays going into hyper focus completely forget the concept of time.

"baby its time to get ready dinner is at 7pm"

matt speaks up as he closes his computer and stands up from his seat head over to you placing his hands on your shoulders, lovingly.

" matt i have to finish these essays though can we-"

you whine out slowly looking up at him.

"can we reschedule or cancel tonight"

you question sheepishly as matt begins to chuckle.

"baby no we haven't been out of the house since early this afternoon and it 5:50pm, plus it will be fun"

he persuades and reasons with you. You agreed and headed up to your room to get dressed for dinner tonight *outfit reference* As you were getting ready you felt this constant strain on your chest which again was abnormal for your so you simply blow it off considering it was probably nothing.

"you ready"

att simply asks you as you finally made your way back downstairs, sensing that same feeling of overwhelm and anxiousness on you that he sensed earlier that day.

"ye-yeah just was feeling like some tightness in my chest but I am ready lets go"

you quickly reply out, grabbing your shoes so you can put them on in the car.

"are you sure that it was nothing"

matt asks you again showing his concern of you not acknowledging you being stressed over the essays and exams you have yet to finish and study for before the semester is over in 2 months.

"yeah i promise im okay"

you simply replied ad you and him walked out the door.

Time Skip

You and Matt connected with Nick Chris and Madison at the restaurant and everything was great. You guys were catching up on everything that was going on in life which kind of allowed you to forget all about your essay and exam you had yet to finish and study for for a little bit.

"so how has med school been"

Madison asks you, shifting the conversation.

"yeah its going for sure"

you huff out as the tightness slightly returning back in your chest at the very thought and mention of school. as if school couldn't get any better you get a notification on your phone that was saying that basically your professor is deciding to have grades finalized this upcoming month instead of the following month after the next month and its march 30th already.

You start feeling like the walls were closing in on you as if you were stuck in a box and couldn't find a way out. You begin to feel the tightness in your chest become more apparent making it hard to breathe to the point where you couldn't seem to get any air in or out of your body and lungs.

"hey you okay"

Chris ask from across the table noticing you place a hand on your chest as if to make sure your alive.

"hey let's go outside for a minute yeah"

matt calmly suggests knowing exactly whats happening and because he didn't want everyone in the restaurant to focus their attention towards you. You nodded you head barely giving him the approval for him to guide you outside in the parking lot.

"i-i matt"

you shakily strain out as you place a shaky on the brick wall of the exterior of the restaurant to help you sit on the floor.

"hey hey"

matt soothes walking over to you.

"tell me whats going on"

"i i cant breathe matt w-whats happening to me"

you exclaims uncontrollably sobbing, as matt kneels in front of you placing his forehead on your bring one of your hands to his chest to give you the awareness that you were still alive and that he was there with you.

"yes you can. Youre having a panic attack love its okay match my breathing"

He softly speaks as he begins inhaling and exhaling deeply, as you slowly follow along.

"there you go"

he whispers seeing your normal state of breathing return to normal, he moves from kneeling to sit next you.

"that was really scary thats never happened to me before"

you softly speak out as you lean your head on his shoulder.

"yeah i think school caught up to you didn't it"

he questions as you slightly sigh and nod you head not daring to speak on that topic currently.

"can we just go home i want to get some sleep"

you calmly ask, looking up at matt.

"of course lets go tell everyone bye then"

he replies helping you to stand up.

"hey are you okay"

nick asks you softly

"yeah"

you softly let out.

"i think we are going to head out she's not feeling the best so I am going to take her to get some rest"

matt chimes in as he brings you into his side rubbing your arm softly.

"aw okay we will see you guys soon its okay"

madison replies getting up and hugging the pair along with chris and nick following.

"feel better and we will see you at home I guess matt right"

chris states and asks.

"maybe i will text you if i end up staying at her place"

matt simply replies to his brother.

"fine by us"

nick chimes in as you two finally leave and get in the car.

You guys barely even made it out of the parking lot before you were already fast asleep in the passenger seat.

Taglist

@dirtylittleheart333 @mintsturniolo @wh0resstuff@ @spicymuffins03 @ksturnz @stayingstromboli @emely9274

#sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #chris x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #girlypopsquad🩵#madisonbeer

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sparks-chaotic-cove · 2 days ago

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SO that lore yesterday, huh? ("≡╔═╻╝═▁" / "Mending" streamed on ggabraxas's, ArtfulRenegade's, and Heyhay13's twitch channels on 11/25/24)

Specifically going to talk about Armor/Atlas and his reactions to everything/the way he acts throughout the stream (also touching back on the end of the last stream-)

When the void monsters attacked in the previous stream- it's like a switch was flipped. His house was burning but that didn't matter- he had to scoop up the lizards and most importantly, the phoenix egg, before diving straight into battle He paused only a moment to stand beside Rune once most if not all of the creatures were gone. Then he stood by when Vast and Rune talked before Rune fled to the testing room.

And he sat with Vast. Almost none of his words were aimed towards himself. He stayed quiet, or he comforted. He didn't even react badly when Vast mentioned the human experimentation him and Rune had been doing.

For almost the entire Mending stream, she is always a step away from Rune and Vast. They stay a bit away, because Rune and Vast need each other- and right now, Atlas doesn't see how much they need him too. The only time that Atlas is closer to Rune than Vast is when he's fixing Rune's arm. And even then, he's so focused on the task that no blush warms his face as the inventor rests his head on Atlas's shoulder. When Vast runs up to Rune to embrace him after they had locked themselves in a room for so long, the first thing Atlas does is look away. Rummage through his pockets, glace around. Eventually he looks back, but to him- while he wants to be here, being around the two when they're all lovey-dovey almost feels like an intrusion. He doesn't belong between them two. Vast is happy. Rune is happy. So he steps away, glances off, fidgets, and waits. Waits until he can do something useful again.

Armor's main focus through these two streams is almost singular: to protect the ones he cares about. He admits this himself when Vast questions if he's okay- he says "Yeah [...] I don't know if 'okay' is the right word, but I will be okay." She's lost her house, but Rune and Vast and the rest of Brightstep are far more her home than that copper building is. He then says that he's more concerned about Rune and Vast right now than himself.

And they go through the stream. Vast and Rune obviously care for Atlas- Vast stuttering through how they could rebuild the house, Rune not wanting to bother Atlas with tending to his arm, etc. Armor (at least from what I remember) never replies when the other two thank him- at least it's never a "you're welcome". sometimes it's a 'yeah', but that's the most. This is what Armor does. This is what she wants to do. She wants to help them. So these actions don't feel worthy of thanking. It's just him helping out. Thats what he does. And as long as Rune, Vast, and the rest of Brightstep are okay, that's far more thanks than he would ever need. Sometimes just seeing the fruit of your work is a better thanks than being highlighted for it ever would. Atlas almost doesn't accept Rune and Vast's offers to give him a room, and refuses to change the room he's given because it's not his. He doesn't need accommodation- he's gotten used to making due with what he's got when it gets cold. He insists that Rune and Vast being alive matters far more than his burnt down house.

Atlas is so focused on helping those two he forgets himself. He insists that if they're going to do Rune's hair, then they need to fix up Vast too. Never does he comment on his own hair, wings, or anything. Although I'm sure the other two got to that in their self care endeavors. He doesn't even mention his birthday until the end, and Rune panics a bit- because Rune cares. But to Armor, it's... another day. One that's been bad in the past. At least today he got to spend it caring for others, being there for the people he loves.

#sparkrambles #so do you all know how much I love Armor/Atlas?#puts her in a jar and shakes her around #abababbaa #rusty stars #boundsmp #skyboundsmp #bound smp #atlas abernathy #armor abernathy #Vast cadere #Rune Ventura #vast boundsmp #rune boundsmp #Armor boundsmp

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zippidi-dooda · 19 hours ago

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There are obvious choices for crazy sleepovers, like Malleus and Leona, Floyd and Riddle, or even Ace and Deuce

But what are the choices for relaxing ones that won't end with you playing mediator?

Silver, Trey, and Cater seem like safe bets

But I'd like to see Kalim and Neige in a room not that Jamil would allow it

Both are very kind and could do most of the talking for you (weirdly enough they may also have the craziest stories to share)

They might not have the most experience in the past time, what with how cautious they need to be, but they're more than excited to join you past curfew

It's thrilling, but be sure to keep this a secret

It may get a bit loud at times but you'll be too engrossed in the moment to notice

Dancing and clapping the night away (kalim will drag you up to join him and could go on all night so make sure you encourage him to get some rest this evening), singing things others would hush you for (just don't worry if you go mute for a moment, everyone gets starstruck by Neige's talent), swapping cardigans and posing like there's a runway (just don't accidentally say you want theirs though, they'll insist you keep them), and cuddling closely under the blankets as you finally drift to sleep (let's hope you don't mind getting stuck in bed with them past your alarms, they're too cozy to get up)

Overall, it's a fun time, they hope you'll invite them over again soon

Better yet, why don't you come spend the night at their place sometime? You won't be a bother at all. In fact, they'll start getting ready for it right now, so you better show up okay?

Gosh, they're getting excited already and you can't wait for your next get together

Just remember, you can't tell Vil or Jamil of what you've been up to

You've reminded them both,

But sometimes it's a bit hard to keep those happy moments a secret

Things slip out

Better lay low for a few days ...

...

Oh, h-hey guys ...

N-no. No, I haven't been avoiding you.

... Well ... about that

...

Run for it Grim!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst kalim #twst neige #x reader #kalim al asim #neige leblanche #neige x reader #kalim x reader

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slaymitchabernathy · 1 day ago

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The Nanny

On a quiet morning, when spring and warmer weather were finally on the cusp of the Capitol, Soarynn was stumped by a question that caused her fingers to stop their memorized pattern of braiding Ceraphina's hair.

"Soarynn, how do you know when you're in love?"

Soarynn blinks once, twice, three times. She's never really thought about that before. Of course, she's thought about love, being in love, falling in love. But truly, how does one know when they're in love?

"I...I don't know darling," she admits, grabbing another blonde curl and tucking it into the braid, "I suppose you just wake up one morning and know that you're with the right person."

"Okay, but how?"

Clearly, Soarynn's answer is insufficient for the young girl who's getting to that age where everything is "so romantic." Soarynn remembers being that way when she was little, thinking it was so wonderful how every adult around her was in love. Watching adults hold hands while crossing busy streets and share warm drinks on cold nights was the ultimate tribute to being in love in her eyes.

It also didn't help that she had grown up without witnessing her own parent's love due to the unfortunate death of her mother. She's sure that Ceraphina had experienced a bit of that as well, even though she knew her mother before she passed away.

But Coriolanus and Livia were never in love.

He's admitted to that countless times since they started courting, talked about how Livia made him feel as if he were stuck in the middle of a business arrangement. It often leads Soarynn to wonder how many other couples are simply together for all the wrong reasons and if she and Coriolanus are together for the wrong ones as well.

Not that there's anything wrong with them. After that little hallway incident, he's been nothing but sweet, showering her with words of adoration, tokens of his affection, and sweet gestures that go above and beyond. He's certainly a charmer.

But sometimes she wonders about how they met, how strange it is that a nanny ended up with her employer and then she just ends up feeling strange and icky.

At least she didn't break up their marriage. That's something she constantly reminds herself of. Their marriage was broken long before she came to the Snow family.

"It's this feeling you get inside of you," Soarynn says, placing a hand over her heart, "this feeling that you simply can't live without this person and you want to do everything with them, no matter how mundane or uncomfortable. With the love of your life, everything makes sense."

Ceraphina tilts her head, "Are you in love with Daddy?"

Soarynn already knows how she feels about Coriolanus, but she doesn't always know how he feels about her.

"I care very deeply about your father," she smoothly answers, giving Ceraphina a tight-lipped smile through the mirror's reflection. Ceraphina returns it with one of her own and kicks her feet as they dangle off the vanity stool, "Is Daddy your best friend?" Soarynn raises her eyebrows, she has friends, but a best friend is something she hasn't considered.

But the more she thinks about it, the more it seems plausible. They see each other every day, they spend lots of time together, they joke and laugh with one another, he makes her happy, she feels as though she can tell him anything. They're honest with each other.

Isn't that what a best friend is?

"He is," she confirms with a more genuine smile this time, "spending time with your father makes me very happy." Ceraphina giggles and cranes her neck back so that she's looking up at Soarynn, "Good! Because I asked him last night and he said that you were his best friend!"

Soarynn's eyes widen in surprise, she's forgotten how involved the girls can get with her relationship with their father. At first, she had worried there might be jealousy. They were the only girls in his life and now there was another woman but that wasn't the case. No, the girls were elated to have Soarynn and their father together, a little too elated sometimes since they were constantly hinting at marriage.

Which sometimes worried Soarynn because she didn't want to get her own hopes up let alone the children's. Coriolanus hadn't really ever talked about getting married again and it's not like she could blame him when his last marriage had a bit of a traumatic ending.

"Well, I'm glad that we're on the same page," she says, tying up Ceraphina's hair with a ribbon, "and you look so pretty darling, this is the perfect look for the museum today." Ceraphina smiles at her reflection, admiring Soarynn's handiwork with her hair, "Thank you!"

Soarynn presses a kiss to the top of her head before Ceraphina hops off of the stool and runs out into her bedroom, leaving Soarynn alone in the bathroom with a looming question.

Does Coriolanus see her as a potential wife?

꧁ ꧂

After contemplating her relationship in the bathroom for a good five minutes, Soarynn gathered herself and her thoughts before making her way out into the girls' room and instructing them to put on their shoes so they could depart for the museum.

"I'll go get your brother's shoes on and meet you in the hallway," she tells them, waiting for nods of confirmation so she can actually trust them to do what she said. Once both girls dutifully bob their heads up and down, Soarynn slips out into the hallway and heads toward Caspian's room. But then she stops when she sees several Avoxes walking in and out of the one room that is practically off-limits.

The master bedroom. Where she sleeps almost every night.

The Avoxes appear to be carrying lots of boxes in and out of the room which puzzles Soarynn. Just this morning she woke up in the arms of her lover and he hadn't mentioned any new furniture being moved into the room. Perhaps it's something that Eudora planned out and Coriolanus simply forgot about it.

Soarynn shrugs it off and gently opens the doors to Caspian's room, finding him right where she left him, on his new bed. Caspian has slept in a crib since the day she started working for the Snows but just last week he got a brand-new bed.

A "big-boy bed."

He's been very pleased with himself and his new bed, constantly climbing in and out of it for the fun of it. Coriolanus had worried that he might try to slip out of his room in the middle of the night but Soarynn reminded him of Caspian's inability to reach the door handles and that calmed him down.

It certainly is adorable to see him so excited about his new bed and the best thing about it is that he can now fit more stuffed animals on it compared to his crib where his space was more limited.

"Lenny go museum," he says the moment he lays eyes on Soarynn. The two-year-old boy has become more and more determined to bring Lenny everywhere and Soarynn has become more and more discouraged to argue with him since it'll often end in a tantrum. And for Caspian, a tantrum is him sitting facing the wall and not talking to anyone for at least two hours.

Which is the best tantrum she's ever seen but it's still a tantrum nonetheless.

"Lenny can come to the museum darling," she reassures him, "but we've got to get your shoes on first." His eyes scan his bedroom floor and Soarynn does the same thing because she swears that she laid out his shoes earlier this morning. Unless a certain toddler moved them and can't remember where he put them.

"You wouldn't happen to know where they are, would you Cas?"

He averts his gaze, staring up at the ceiling instead and Soarynn laughs, "I'll take that as a no." That's okay, he has more shoes than he'll ever need so she just goes into the closet to find another pair. She dressed him in khaki-colored pants, a little white shirt, and a red coat to go overtop for when they're outside. Soarynn grabs a small pair of brown leather shoes, humming to herself as she undoes the tiny laces. The thing she loves about children is how cute their clothes are.

She wonders how tiny baby clothes can get.

Does Coriolanus want another baby if they get married?

She really needs to get a grip on her thoughts because this is getting out of hand. Right now, all she needs to focus on is the children.

She has to be the nanny.

꧁ ꧂

There are days when Soarynn only sees Coriolanus once. Breakfast is a promised meeting time for the entire family no matter what the day holds and Soarynn looks forward to it immensely. The girls get to talk to Coriolanus until his ears fall off and Caspian gets to be near his father which is more than enough for him. Breakfast isn't really the time for Soarynn to butt in and talk, not when she often spends the nights with Coriolanus, wrapped up in his sheets.

But today is not one of those days. Because there are days when a person keeps running into the same person over and over again, as if the universe wants them to be together. Even if Soarynn has mixed feelings about that person right now because she doesn't know if he wants to get married and have more children with her.

Which is so utterly ridiculous and she knows that but it doesn't stop her heart from beating faster and faster whenever she thinks of him. Get it together, she tells herself while carrying a sleepy Caspian on her hip, you can talk to him about it tonight. The museum had been wonderful today, a new exhibit about the ocean opened up and the girls loved every second of it. The exhibit mostly focused on different marine life and even had a real whale skeleton.

Needless to say, they were at the museum for a long time.

Caspian was already falling asleep in the car but Soarynn tried to keep him awake until they got back home so she could put him down for a proper nap. "Bed," he mumbles while nuzzling his head against her neck. Soarynn hums, brushing some of his hair out of his face, "I know sweet boy, we'll get you down for a nap."

They ran into Eudora when they got back home and she took the girls to get a snack so Soarynn could put Caspian down for a nap. Soarynn starts walking up the back staircase, her head down as she focuses on the steps when she notices a pair of black leather shoes pass by her going in the opposite direction. She immediately looks up when the scent of roses washes over her and comes face to face with a grinning Coriolanus.

Her heart might beat out of her chest, she doesn't know why she's suddenly so nervous around him, it's probably got something to do with her stupid thoughts about the future and what it holds for them.

"Well isn't this a pleasant surprise?" He says, resting a hand on her arm. Soarynn forces a smile onto her face and nods, "Yes, yes it is. We just got back from the museum." A wave of recognition washes over his porcelain face, "Ah yes, I remember you mentioned it this morning at breakfast."

Soarynn hums but doesn't say anything else which is ironic since she's usually thrilled to run into Coriolanus in the middle of the day. He rarely ever leaves his study if he's working from home.

He furrows his eyebrows, looking her up and down in a concerned manner, "Are you feeling alright darling?"

"Mhm."

Caspian lifts his head after hearing his father's voice, "Lenny go nap."

Coriolanus gives Caspian a gentle squeeze, fixing the collar of his little coat, "Lenny isn't the only one who needs a nap." Soarynn chuckles softly, Caspian often projects his needs and wants onto Lenny, "What were you doing upstairs?" She asks, her curiosity getting the best of her. Coriolanus is a man who values routine and the only time he ever comes upstairs is if he needs to change his clothes but he appears to be wearing the same outfit he wore to breakfast this morning.

He coughs into his fist, looking down at the floor, "Just needed to grab something."

Now they're both lying.

"Alright. Well...I'll see you later then," she says softly, taking another step up. Coriolanus gives her a grunt of approval, "Yes, I was thinking we could have dinner tonight." She doesn't know if she can survive dinner with him tonight, not with her own thoughts running wild but she doesn't want to be rude or ungrateful, "That sounds wonderful," she lies.

He smiles although it doesn't reach his eyes the way a genuine smile does and leans forward to press a kiss to her cheek, "I'll see you tonight then darling."

Soarynn nods and turns to go up the rest of the stairs but she stops herself midway, unable to stop herself from asking the question that's been burning in her mind since doing Ceraphina's hair this morning, "Actually I," Coriolanus stops in his tracks, looking up at her from the first landing of steps, "Yes?"

Soarynn feels a rush of embarrassment wash over her. What a stupid thing to ask him right now, "Never mind," she says, going up the rest of the steps before he can stop her.

Soarynn scolds herself for acting so...so stupid! This morning she felt perfectly normal around Coriolanus, giddy even but now she can barely look the man in the eyes without wanting to ask him if they're ever going to get married or have children.

At least she has until tonight to get her thoughts and her act together.

Soarynn pads into Caspian's room, changing him into pajamas before tucking him into his new bed. She kisses his forehead and sings his favorite song, the meadow song, watching him drift off to sleep with Lenny in his grip. Soarynn watches him sleep for a while, enamored by the sweet boy who calls her his mother despite having no blood relation.

If Caspian considers her his mother then why should she even worry about Coriolanus wanting more children? Ceraphina, Celeste, and Caspian are more than perfect. If anything, Soarynn is selfish for wanting more children.

There, problem solved.

꧁ ꧂

"Soarynn dear, could you run this over to Coriolanus?"

Problem not solved.

Soarynn might throw up.

She just got downstairs after putting Caspian down for his nap and she was feeling much better before Eudora asked her that question. She thought she just solved her problem but just hearing his name made her feel nervous. She brushes her hair behind her ears, looking around the room to make sure that Eudora is talking to her and not someone else named Soarynn.

"Don't you want to do it?" She asks, doing her best to sound casual while stepping into the dining room. Eudora and the girls are all sitting at the table, cookies and tea in front of them although it looks like the girls are drinking apple juice from the tea cups instead of actual tea.

Eudora waves her off as if she's doing Soarynn a grand favor, "You'll be fine, just hand him this file. He asked me to go over it this morning for the upcoming Hunger Games."

Ah yes, the Hunger Games that Coriolanus has to keep running because apparently, his father created them. The night that Coriolanus told Soarynn about Lucy Gray, he also told her more about the origin of the Hunger Games and how his father and Casca Highbottom created them. It was apparently a drunk joke that was made but it turned into something much more sinister once it was written onto paper and turned in as an assignment to Dr. Gaul, one of the Head Gamemakers.

It had honestly horrified Soarynn to know that the reasoning behind twenty-four children being forced to fight to the death was due to a drunk joke but she kept those thoughts to herself. It's not like she could stop them now. Coriolanus didn't seem ecstatic about them either but as President of Panem, it was his job to see to it that they continued this pageantry.

Lucky him.

Soarynn slowly takes the file from Eudora, holding it at arm's length like it's a ticking time bomb, "I'll go give it to him," she finally says, accepting her fate. Eudora gives her a questionable look but nods, "We'll be right here dear."

"Tell Daddy we said hi," Celeste tells Soarynn who swallows and turns to walk back out of the dining room, a dark cloud looming over her once more.

She all but drags her feet down the long hallway that leads to his study, a hallway she normally skips down because it means getting to see Coriolanus. But not today.

She stops once she reaches the doors that lead to his study when she notices that they're not all the way closed. She can hear two muffled voices, male voices, one belongs to Coriolanus, and the other she can't quite place. It's terribly rude to eavesdrop but Soarynn can't help but lean in a little closer to peer inside of his study.

She can see Coriolanus sitting on the sofa by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in his hand while he talks. She looks over at the other man and finds that it's Quintus Heavensbee, his most trusted advisor. It doesn't sound like they're talking about anything truly important, in fact, they're talking about women.

"...Perlina said it would be a nice trip but after what happened to you in Four, I just don't trust the Districts," Quintus says with a shake of his head, his back towards the doors. Coriolanus lets out a dry laugh, "I never trusted them to begin with. But after Four, the children will never go again." Soarynn agrees with him on that, the attack in District Four could've ended so badly for them. For her.

"They're leeches, filthy leeches that are desperate to get their hands on what matters most to you," Quintus tells him, "speaking of which, how are things with Soarynn?"

Her breath gets caught in her throat and she has to remind herself to breathe again while Coriolanus takes a sip of his drink, "Good, she's good, things are good. I'm taking her to dinner tonight."

Quintus nods and leans back in his chair, "I must say she looks nearly identical to Ceraphina, she could easily pass for her mother if I didn't know any better." Soarynn has to agree with that as well, she and Ceraphina share the same eye color and hair color, leading them to look like a mother-daughter duo. She certainly sees Ceraphina as her daughter, even if she shouldn't.

"Well she's more of a mother to her than Livia ever was," Coriolanus says, bitterness evident in his tone of voice, "and a better partner as well." Her heart flutters from the compliment, Soarynn has never been in a relationship before and she often wonders if she's doing enough. Coriolanus has always been one for words of praise but he could always just lie and be polite to protect her feelings.

"Could you see yourself marrying her?" Quintus asks and Soarynn nearly blacks out. It's as if the heavens above have answered her question! Now she just needs Coriolanus to answer the question and Coriolanus is the master at avoiding things he doesn't want to answer. He's an expert, in fact, diverting the topic by giving an answer completely unrelated to the question. Soarynn has called him out on it before and he's always grinned and claimed that it's a skill only the President can possess.

Coriolanus goes quiet, too quiet for her liking. Soarynn watches him think long and hard about that question, "Not tomorrow," Quintus adds, picking up on the lingering silence, "no one would blame you if you didn't want to remarry."

Coriolanus shakes his head, a determined look now on his face, "I could see myself marrying Soarynn," he answers confidently, "sooner rather than later if I'm being honest. Losing Livia taught me a valuable lesson, many lessons actually but it taught me that nothing is promised. If something were to happen to Soarynn and I missed my chance then I'd never forgive myself."

Soarynn turns around and lets out a silent scream of excitement before collecting herself and taking a few steps back as if she hasn't been listening to the conversation for the past five minutes. She raises her fist to knock on the doors and makes her presence known this time, "Coriolanus? I have something to give you from Eudora."

She listens to their conversation come to a halt and hears someone get up and shuffle towards the doors. Quintus is the one who opens them, greeting her with a kind smile, "Hello Soarynn, how are you today?" She returns his smile with one of her own, genuine this time now that she doesn't have that nagging thought in her head, "Hello Quintus, I'm absolutely wonderful."

He steps to the side so she can walk inside and she's met with a skeptical look from Coriolanus who remains seated on the sofa, "Really? Because when I saw you on the staircase you looked like you were about to be sick." Soartynn waves him off, crossing the room to hand him the file, "I'm perfectly fine," she tells him, "you shouldn't worry about me, darling." The random use of the petname brings a blush to his cheeks and Quintus chuckles, "It's the President's job to worry, isn't it Coriolanus?"

Coriolanus still seems to be in a confused daze but he quickly shakes it off, taking the file from her and adopting the more stern look she's used to seeing from him, "Yes, quite right. Thank you for bringing me the file Soarynn."

Soarynn nods and she can't help but keep going now that she doesn't have any existential dread weighing her down, "What were you two just talking about a moment ago?"

Both men answer her at the same time.

"Taxes."

"Trains."

Soarynn raises her eyebrows, looking back and forth as they clear their throats in an effort to look less guilty, "Taxes and trains? What a thrilling topic." Coriolanus quickly rises to his feet, setting down his glass and the file, both long forgotten, "Yes, it's riveting stuff darling but I think I hear the children calling for you and I have much to do before tonight." He rests a hand on her back and gently guides her past Quintus towards the doors.

Soarynn innocently looks up at him from over his shoulder, "I didn't hear the children."

"You might need to get your ears checked then. I'll see you tonight," he says, kissing her temple before he gently pushes her out into the hall and shuts the doors in her face.

Soarynn crosses her arms, getting her ears checked, please.

Why can't men ever just come out and say what they mean? And they say women are complicated creatures.

꧁ ꧂

Later that day, Soarynn finds herself wondering about something else, something less important.

What is she going to wear tonight?

No matter where they go or what they do, Coriolanus and Soarynn always dress up for the occasion. Soarynn has always enjoyed dressing up for herself and no one else but now that she's in a relationship, it's an added bonus to have a grown man drooling over her.

"Would you two like to help me choose my outfit for tonight?" She asks the girls while they have an early dinner. The girls both gasp, eager to participate in the adult activity of preparing for date night. If they had their way, they'd come with Soarynn and Coriolanus but he's remained very firm that going out on dates is a two-person job.

But that doesn't stop the girls from asking to come. So Soarynn has found that them helping her get ready makes their separation much easier. And although she'd never admit it, easier for her as well.

"Yes!" Ceraphina says, bouncing in her seat, "Can we put on your makeup too?" Makeup is a bit more risky since Soarynn has found out that the girls love to use a heavy hand when applying things such as blush. "Oh, I was thinking you two might help me pick out a bag too," she adds, earning her more excited gasps. Caspian who's sitting in her lap, rests a hand on her arm, "Momma stay."

Her smile falters at his request, maybe she should stay, she and Coriolanus just went out to dinner a few nights ago. But Eudora is quick to intervene, "I thought we might watch one of your favorite films tonight children." Caspian perks up when he hears that, he loves to watch films, especially ones that feature animals. Coriolanus is pretty strict about how much television the children can watch and only permits a certain amount of time per week that they can spend in front of the large screen.

A film is a special treat.

He looks back up at Soarynn, a change of heart, "Momma go."

Soarynn and Eudora laugh at the sudden switch and Soarynn presses a kiss to his head, "Eager to get rid of me hmm?"

"Eudora, can I ask you a question?" Ceraphina asks sweetly, batting her eyelashes which causes Eudora to raise an eyebrow. Ceraphina has a habit of asking the craziest questions at the worst times, it's truly a gift. "Yes, you may dear."

"Have you ever been in love?"

Eudora lets out another laugh, a dismissive one at that, and shakes her head, "I don't believe in relationships dear, they're far too complicated for a woman of my age and status to concern myself with."

Ceraphina frowns, slouching in her seat, "You never fell in love? Ever? Not even once?"

Eudora shakes her head, sighing, "No, well...there was that one time," she mumbles the last part. Soarynn and the children lean in, eager to hear about Eudora Trinket's one love. "Who was he?" Celeste asks, "Or she?"

Eudora looks up at the ceiling dramatically, as if reliving her last moments with her lover, "We were too different," she exclaims, "I was in love with schedules, planning, telling people what to do. And he..." She looks back down at the table, grabbing her napkin and dabbing at her eyes, "He was in love with the weather."

It takes them a full ten seconds to realize who she's talking about.

"Lucky?!" Soarynn asks, unable to believe that Eudora and Lucky have ever shared a single interest let alone a conversation. The girls look as surprised as she is, even Caspian seems to be in denial. Eudora shrugs, "I like a man with a mustache, what can I say? But we were too different, we had different passions and when two people are in love, that means that they must sometimes give up their passions for one another."

She has a valid point.

Coriolanus is passionate about being President, being a leader, a beacon of stability.

But what is Soarynn passionate about?

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn pokes at her pasta, pushing it around on the plate. It's quiet in the restaurant but that's because Coriolanus bought out the entire room so they could dine privately. A man of grand gestures.

"Are you not hungry?"

She looks up from her plate, finding Coriolanus eyeing her plate of pasta, "I am," she tells him, "I just can't stop thinking about what Eudora said earlier when we were all having dinner together."

Coriolanus takes a sip of his wine before asking, "What did she say at dinner?"

Soarynn sighs, she's sure he's already aware that Eudora was in love with Lucky Flickerman at one point so she chooses to leave that part out, "She was talking about passions and now I can't stop thinking about what my passion is." She pokes at her pasta some more before setting down her fork, "My pasta is probably cold anyway," she grumbles.

Coriolanus gives her a knowing look and waves over their waiter who appears at their table within seconds, "Could you reheat this for her please?" Coriolanus asks, handing over Soarynn's plate to the eager waiter who promises to bring back an entire new plate for her.

She bites her lip, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to act ungrateful. I just can't stop thinking about it." Coriolanus reaches his hand across the table and Soarynn takes it, watching his long fingers intertwine with her shorter ones. "I'd say you're acting preoccupied, not ungrateful," he argues, squeezing her hand, "and I think it's rather obvious what your passions are darling."

She looks up at him confusedly, "It is?"

He chuckles, "Yes, it is. You're so clearly passionate about helping others. You love to lift other people up, you love to connect with those around you, making them feel at ease."

Was it that obvious?

The waiter comes back with a steaming plate of pasta and Soarynn must admit, it looks much tastier when it hasn't been sitting in front of her for ten minutes, "Thank you," she says to the man.

"Of course, Ms. Nightingale."

Soarynn catches Coriolanus staring at her empty ring finger for only a moment before he lets go of her hand, "How did you even get on the topic of passions? Are the children already diving into these deep topics at such a young age?" Soarynn softly laughs and picks up her fork again, appetite regained, "No, Ceraphina asked Eudora if she's ever been in love before."

Coriolanus leans in, already hooked, "Has she?"

Soarynn nods, wrapping several strings of pasta around her fork, "She has."

"With who?"

Soarynn takes her time bringing the pasta to her mouth, watching Coriolanus eagerly await her answer while she slowly chews and swallows, "Lucky Flickerman," she finally says once her mouth isn't full and Coriolanus is taking another sip of his wine. He almost chokes on it, covering his mouth with his own napkin while he recovers and Soarynn giggles, "We didn't believe her either," Soarynn tells him, "but apparently, she has a thing for men with mustaches."

Coriolanus laughs, a real laugh, not a practiced one that he pulls out when they're in public. A laugh that she has been given the privilege of hearing. "I don't believe it," he says, shaking his head, "Eudora has never mentioned her and Lucky before and that's not something that just slips past me." Soarynn shrugs, she's sure that quite a few things manage to slip past Coriolanus unbeknownst to him and someone's dating history certainly qualifies.

"Would it have mattered?" She asks, curious as to how Eudora was even hired in the first place. Did Eudora work for the former President? Or do Presidents hire out their own staff once they're in office?

Coriolanus gives her a confused look and she elaborates, "If you knew that she and Lucky had a former relationship would it have affected you hiring her? I know you can see everyone's files but I highly doubt that past relationships are listed."

"It wouldn't have mattered," he answers, setting down his glass of wine, "and the only information I can see about past relationships is if someone has been divorced or not." Her eyes grow bigger at the mention of divorce, something that's practically unheard of in the elite circles. Divorce is a one-way ticket to being shunned by high society. Unless there's a case of abuse or infidelity, couples stay together, happy or not.

Or your spouse can succumb to a sudden deadly illness like Livia and then you'll end up like Coriolanus.

Those thoughts bring her back to the idea of marriage and children and she just can't help herself from asking the next question, "Do you want children?"

Coriolanus freezes, the room feels much quieter now, much colder and Soarynn's worried that she's truly crossed the line this time. He clears his throat, "I would argue that I already have three perfect children," he tells her slowly. Soarynn must look crazy but she has to know if he wants children with her.

"I meant...I meant with me," she says exasperatedly, grabbing her napkin and twisting it in her hands, "if we were to get married tomorrow then would you want to have children with me?"

His face remains neutral, emotionless which means he's thinking hard about her question. Soarynn has gotten better at reading his facial expressions but he's always been so good at guarding them.

"I think it's expected for any wife to bear the children her husband gifts her," he says, scratching the back of his neck, "as for you, I would expect no less. Children are our legacy, you are your family's legacy and I am mine."

He's right, she's the last Nightingale which is a bit of a terrifying thought if she's being completely honest. She's all alone in this world, no wonder people have lots of children. "I don't mean to be so prying," she tells him, brushing her hair behind her ears nervously, "I just started thinking about it and now I can't stop."

His face softens, showing his true colors and how much he cares for her, "Darling, you could've avoided all of this if you just asked me sooner, it's not a prying thing to ask the man you're courting."

He's right. Soarynn didn't know why she was so worried when it was that easy. She nods, "I know, I just don't want to be another thing for you to worry about." Coriolanus chuckles softly, reaching back across the table and Soarynn gladly takes his hand in hers, "I worry about you regardless," he tells her, "and should we get married and have more children, I'll worry about them as well."

So he does want to marry her!

Hearing it directly instead of eavesdropping feels like a weight has been lifted off of her chest. Soarynn gives him a smile, as genuine as it gets, and squeezes his hand, "I'll hold you to that."

꧁ ꧂

꧁ Three Months Later ꧂

"And what is this for again?" Soarynn asks, looking down at an ornate vision board for an event Eudora is putting together. The older woman waves her off as if this whole thing is insignificant despite how much she's been stressing over it, "It's for after the Hunger Games dear, Corioalnus wants to throw a little party to celebrate."

Soarynn frowns, the Snows have been throwing more parties since she started working for them but this seems...odd. "Aren't we already throwing a party the day of the Reaping?"

Eudora shrugs, flipping through more pages of her binder, "The more the merrier dear, now which tablecloths do you like, the cream or the pearl?" Soarynn compares the two swatches of white fabric, nearly identical and yet too different to the trained eye. Coriolanus would simply pick the first one and move on from there but being a woman means that Soarynn actually appreciates these things.

She has a good eye for decorations and notices the smallest details.

"That's why I have you darling," he'd say whenever she'd point something out that he would've never noticed.

"This seems like a lot of white for a party celebrating the Hunger Games," she murmurs, feeling that the colors should be blood-red, not pretty white shades. "Nonsense, it's a clean slate," Eudora insists, holding up the swatches to the light, "white represents becoming new. We'll have a new Victor on our hands won't we?"

"I suppose," Soarynn replies, pointing at the cream-colored swatch, "and I like the cream one the best."

"I was thinking the same thing."

Both women smile at each other, Soarynn has found a good friend in Eudora Trinket, as well as some sort of a mother figure as well. Eudora is a beacon of reassurance, as long as she's around, they can't mess anything up.

Celeste comes running into the sitting room a second later, entirely out of breath and in a rush as she slowly comes to a stop. Soarynn and Eudora give her a glance before turning back to their work, looking at different centerpieces now that the tablecloths have been selected. Celeste tugs on Soarynn's dress and she looks down at the child, "Yes sweetheart?"

"The painting is gone," Celeste says, her blue eyes filled with vigor and conviction.

Soarynn frowns, glancing at Eudora who looks as lost as she is, "The patining?" She repeats, hoping for some clarification. Celeste nods, swaying back and forth on her heels, "Mhm, it's gone."

Without any further explanation, she runs back out of the room, leaving Soarynn and Eudora very confused as to what all of that was about. "Children are always so vague," Eudora says, clearly not as bothered by Celeste's strange behavior as Soarynn is, "Yes, yes they are," Soarynn agrees.

Forty-five minutes later, a party has been planned and a color scheme decided on. Soarynn and Eudora go their separate ways, Soarynn to the front of the house to get the children from Ceraphina's piano lesson, and Eudora to the kitchen to prepare the kitchen staff for the upcoming parties and their menus.

As Soarynn walks through the great hall, she notices something out of the corner of her eye.

Something missing.

The painting.

It's pretty fucking hard to miss too. What used to be a giant painting of the entire Snow family is now gone, with only a bare wall to show that there was once a large object taking up its space. Soarynn stops dead in her tracks, looking around to see if perhaps it was taken down for cleaning purposes but she finds no trace of it anywhere. It's pretty much impossible to hide something of that size but she's hoping it might be hiding under a rug or a table.

It was a beautiful painting in Soarynn's opinion. The children were much younger than they are now, and Livia was well and alive. But now it's gone. And it's left a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Why would Coriolanus have it removed?

Soarynn shakes her head in an effort to shake away those thoughts, she can no longer hear the incorrect piano keys being played so that means Ceraphina's lesson has come to a close. She'll have to ask Coriolanus about it later.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn drags her fingers along the bathwater's surface, popping a few bubbles in the process.

Bathtime is often when she hits a mental wall, she's tired and ready for the day to end even if the children insist that they can easily stay up for another six hours.

She watches Celeste play with her designated "bath time mermaids" which are really just dolls that she plays with in the tub, and a soft smile graces her lips. She loves this little girl so much.

"The painting is gone," she says, catching Celeste off guard but she quickly recovers and her eyes are as wide as they've ever been, "you were right."

Celeste quickly nods, grabbing the edge of the tub, "You saw it?" She asks, her voice barely a whisper even though it's just the two of them in the bathroom right now. Soarynn hums, reaching out to brush her curls off of her forehead, "I did. Although I don't know why it was removed." She can only imagine why, nothing was wrong with the painting and how the hallway just looks empty without it.

Celeste smiles, nearly bouncing out of the tub which causes some water to splash onto the floor, "It means something's gonna happen Soarynn!"

Soarynn does not share Celeste's enthusiasm, "Like what?"

Celeste shrugs, settling back down in the tub, "I don't know," she admits, still grinning ear to ear, "but it's gotta mean something right?"

Soarnyn purses her lips while she thinks about the possibilities and a very specific one crosses her mind but she doesn't dare speak it into existence.

"I suppose it does," is all she replies with, grabbing the shampoo, "now let's wash your hair darling."

꧁ ꧂

After putting all three children to bed, Soarynn finds herself strolling the halls of the President's Mansion. She knows the place like the back of her hand now that she lives here although the children always know the best places to hide when they play hide-and-seek. She passes the massive doors that lead to the ballroom and sees several Avoxes mopping and floors, preparing for the parties they'll be hosting for the upcoming Hunger Games.

She's almost been here for a year and yet it feels like ten.

Soarynn sighs, she ought to take a walk outside since Coriolanus won't be getting home until late since he's at dinner. She'll go upstairs and get her coat.

She quietly climbs up the stairs and comes across Petunia lying in the middle of the hallway, her tail flicking back and forth while she watches Soarynn approach her, "Hello Petunia," she greets the feline who purrs in response and rolls onto her back. Soarynn chuckles, crouching down to rub her soft belly, "Have any more paintings gone missing or am I slowly losing it?" She asks, more to herself than to the cat.

Coriolanus had that painting removed on purpose. To send a message.

But what message is he trying to convey?

Soarynn stands back up, Petunia following her to the bedroom that is now as good as hers ever since Coriolanus had her move in with him. On the same day that Soarynn was spiraling about having children with Coriolanus, she had witnessed several boxes being moved in and out of his bedroom. She hadn't really paid it any mind since her mind was very preoccupied at the moment but after they returned home from dinner that night, she discovered that he had removed all of Livia's clothing and brought in Soarynn's.

It had rendered her speechless. She was more than used to going to her room whenever she was in need of clothes so to have him remove his late wife's clothing without her even mentioning it left her feeling slightly perturbed. Sure it was a sign of moving forward from her death but it was still quite a shock.

Now she fully lived in his room. She got dressed in his room, showered in his room, and slept in his room. Things were very official.

But she would be lying if she said that having a 'his and hers' closet didn't make her a little bit giddy. His side was filled with expensive tailored suits whereas her side was filled with dresses, skirts, blouses, pants, and lots of shoes. Coriolanus often liked to surprise her with a new handbag or pair of shoes. He'd leave it on the large table they had in the middle of the walk-in closet, next to the vase of fresh roses that always sat in the center.

But as she walks into the bedroom, she feels as if the pieces are slowly falling together.

The closet, the painting, the all-white color scheme for this Hunger Games party suddenly popping up on the schedule, the schedule that Eudora briefed her on at the beginning of June that she swore would not change.

Coriolanus is going to propose to her.

Soarynn feels as if the floor has been pulled out from under her.

She needs to get out, go for a walk, clear her head.

She hurries into the closet and snatches the first coat she sees and throws it on, striding out into the bedroom once again, feeling hot and flushed. Petunia meows for her attention but Soarynn's mind is so, so far away from here right now. "I'll be back soon," she mutters, pulling open the doors and slipping into the hallway. She makes her way downstairs and towards the sitting room that Eudora frequents the most. Sure enough, she's sitting at the coffee table with several folders spread out in front of her.

Soarynn clears her throat, causing Eudora to jump, "Oh! Soarynn, I thought you'd be in bed by now." Soarynn shook her head, she couldn't sleep right now if she tried. "I um, I need to run a quick errand," she tells Eudora, her voice low and hushed even though they're the only ones in the room right now, "I'll be back soon."

Eudora looks at her current attire and Soarynn can see a few questions popping up in her head right now but she asks none, "Alright dear, I'll listen out for the children." Soarynn forces a polite smile onto her lips, "Thank you, I shouldn't be too long."

Soarynn goes to the side entrance of the house where a car with a driver is always waiting, "The Capitol Cemetary please," she says to the driver as she slips into the car.

The drive is short but her mind is buzzing the entire time.

When will he propose? Do the children know?

Eudora certainly does if she's planning the damn thing. Or at least some sort of party to celebrate their engagement.

She wonders what Coriolanus is doing right now, if he's thinking of her the way she's thinking of him. She thinks of him constantly now that they're officially together but she often wonders if he does the same thing. He says he does, and he also says that the dinners he attends are very boring, filled with old men who have great influence in Panem. He says he'll introduce her to them at the Reaping party.

She can't wait.

The car slowly rolls up to the gates of the cemetery and she begins to worry when she sees that they're closed. Which is perfectly understandable considering the time of day. Ten o'clock at night.

A Peacekeeper standing by the gates approaches the car and Soaeynn can only hear a muffled conversation between him and her driver. The Peacekeeper walks to her window, peering through the tinted glass and Soarynn rolls it down, flashing him her prettiest smile, "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience," she says sweetly, "it'll only be a moment." The Peacekeeper, a man who looks to be about the same age as her swallows down a lump in his throat, "Of course ma'am."

That's all it takes for her to gain entry.

The driver rolls the partition down, looking at her through the rearview mirror, "Where to Ms. Nightingale?"

She supposes it would look less suspicious if she went to her own parent's graves, "The West Side please." It's a short drive to that side of the Cemetery and Soarynn can feel her heart pounding. If this is all going to happen, then she has to make peace with her conscious, and those who came before her.

The driver opens the door, offering her a gloved hand as she steps out, "Thank you," she says to the man, "I won't be long."

He eyes her warily, "I could accompany you if you'd like Ms. Nightingale." That just won't do. She knows he means well but Soarynn has a plan and she's sticking to it. "No need to worry about me," she assures him, "I'll be back soon." The driver doesn't look too convinced but he doesn't push it and gets back into the car. Soarynn disappears down the tree-lined path toward the other side of the Cemetery, walking past her parent's graves at a swift pace.

She'll pay them a visit later.

She finally sets her sights on what she came here for.

Livia Snow's grave.

It's just her luck that the groundskeeper is walking out of the mausoleum. Coriolanus told her that he had people clean it every week to keep it in perfect condition. Although they never truly loved each other, Livia was the mother of his children, and he'd be a fool to disrespect the dead.

Soarynn quietly approaches the large stone building, watching the groundskeeper sweep the pathway leading up to the doors that she's never entered. He perks up when he notices her, wrapped in her coat, probably a manic look in her eyes as well. "Good...good evening Ms. Nightingale," the older man says, bowing his head. Ever since she started courting Coriolanus, Soarynn's name has become well-known in the Capitol.

She's reached celebrity status and she doesn't always know how to feel about it. But tonight, she'll use it to her advantage.

"Good evening," she replies, "I don't mean to be a bother, but I was hoping to maybe have a moment alone," she nods towards the mausoleum and his eyes follow her gaze. "Oh, oh I see. The Snows are quite particular about who's allowed inside ma'am," he tells her, "only immediate family is allowed."

Soarynn wants to tell him that the entire reason she's here in the first place is because she's about to become immediate family but she withholds that information, "I understand, I'll let Coriolanus know that I wasn't allowed inside," she says with a feigned disappointed sigh. The man quickly perks up at the mention of the President, "Well you might as well go in," he says, digging into his pockets and pulling out a ring of keys, "I wouldn't want to let President Snow down."

Neither would I, she thinks to herself while he unlocks the doors that open with a heavy groan. She slowly steps inside, it's quite dark except for the small lantern above her. Soarynn sets her eyes on the casket at the very back of the building, made of dark wood with roses engraved into it. Her breaths grow shaky as she walks further inside, looking around at all the things that have been left inside as tribute.

There's a vase of roses, and she also sees several cards with children's handwriting and even a stuffed bear sitting against the steps leading up to Livia's casket. Soarynn stops when her heels touch the first step and she crouches down to pick up one of the cards. From what she can tell, it's Ceraphina's handwriting. There's a drawing on the front of the card of the entire family, it's so sweet and heartbreaking at the same time. Soarynn opens the card and her eyes immediately fill with tears.

'I miss you Mommy'

Soarynn carefully sets the card back down and makes her way up the three marble steps, resting her hand on the smooth wooden top of the casket. If she were to push it off, she'd come face-to-face with Livia Snow. Windows let in the pale moonlight and Soarynn notices a framed photograph on the windowsill directly in front of the casket, a photograph of Livia and Coriolanus on their wedding day. Neither of them is smiling but it reminds Soarynn why she came here in the first place.

"I came here...I came here to talk to you," she says quietly, "I've been taking care of your children for quite some time now and there's not a day that goes by where they don't think of you."

Soarynn tries to blink away the tears but it's no use and they spill down her cheeks, "I love Coriolanus, I love him very much and I think he's going to ask me to marry him but I couldn't in good consciousness accept his proposal without coming to you first and telling you that I'll take care of your children. I'll love them like my own and protect them with my every being. And I'll...I'll make a good man out of him, out of Coriolanus. He's trying to be better, I can see it in the way he treats those around him, how he is with the children."

Is Livia Snow scowling down at her? Does she think of Soarynn as some lovesick fool? Or does she want Coriolanus to be happy again?

"I'll make him happy," she whispers, "and make sure that your children remain happy. No harm will befall them as long as I'm around, I promise."

Soarynn stands there for a few more minutes, sniffling while feeling sorry for herself. She highly doubts that Livia ever cried about an upcoming proposal but she lived such a different life than Soarynn, she married an entirely different man.

Soarynn finally gathers herself, wiping her tears and regaining her composure. "We will always keep you in our memories," she whispers before turning to walk down the steps.

Her heels echo on the marble floors and she feels a wave of relief wash over her when she steps out into the summer night. The groundskeeper gives her a curious look, "All is well Ms. Nightingale?"

Soarynn nods, already feeling much better now that she did what needed to be done, "All is well. Thank you for letting me visit."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn stops at her parent's graves before leaving. Even in death, they're still together, and that brings her comfort knowing that not even death can keep love apart.

"It's been a while," she says, dusting off any leaves from the tops of their tombstones, "but so much has happened. I met someone, he makes me happy. He has three children, they're as sweet as can be. I think I'm going to marry him."

Saying those words out loud makes it feel very real all of a sudden.

After her father died, Soarynn learned that acceptance was the hardest part of grief. Accepting that nothing could be done differently was a hard thing to do, but it was all one could do.

"When I come back I'll bring my children," she tells her parents, kissing the tips of her fingers and touching both of their tombstones.

She means it too. She'll be back.

꧁ ꧂

The President's Mansion is silent when Soarynn returns.

Another car was already parked at the side entrance which means Coriolanus is already home. Soarynn makes her way upstairs, peeking into the children's bedrooms once more to make sure they're asleep. Caspian is curled up in his bed, Lenny wrapped in a tight grip as if he might try to slip away. The girls are both sound asleep under the canopy bed, their new nightlight shining stars onto the ceiling for them while they dream sweet dreams.

Soarynn quietly closes the doors with a soft smile on her face, a day will come when they don't sleep in the same room anymore or require bedtime stories and she's not sure that she's ready for that day yet.

When Soarynn walks into her own bedroom she finds Petunia sitting at the foot of the bed, a black sock in her mouth which means she stole it from Coriolanus. He hadn't been exactly thrilled when Petunia started sleeping in their room but Soarynn argued that if the cat couldn't stay, then neither could she.

The two had since grown a small rivalry between each other. Petunia would steal his socks and neckties and Coriolanus would steal Soarynn and her attention that was usually given to Petunia.

Heaven forbid they get a dog.

Soarynn chuckles softly as she approaches Petunia and gently reaches out to pull the sock from her mouth, “You have more toys than you know what to do with and yet you insist on taking Coryo’s socks,” Soarynn says with a shake of her head.

Petunia doesn’t seem bothered by this issue that has constantly been brought up since she was moved to this bedroom but she does let go of the sock which is progress. Sometimes it’s a bit of a battle to get her to release the socks and it often ends in both parties feeling very offended.

Soarynn doesn’t hear the shower running which means Coriolanus is probably finishing up, ready for bed which sounds wonderful right now. All she wants to do is curl up in bed with the man she's been falling in love with over the past few months.

What could be better than that?

She expects to find him hunched over the sink when she walks into the bathroom, brushing his teeth or washing his face. Although Coriolanus is as masculine as they come, he's quite rigorous with his nightly routines, ensuring that his skin is properly taken care of.

But the bathroom is empty.

The closet doors are open and Soarynn slowly approaches them, slightly stunned to find Coriolanus sitting on the bench they have in the closet right in front of the of the table. It's usually used for Soarynn to sit on when she puts her shoes on in the morning but today it's being used by Coriolanus who's holding a single white rose in his hand. Soarynn glances at the table and finds a whole bouquet sitting there for her accompanied by a card.

She didn't even notice the gift when she came to get her coat.

Coriolanus has already shed his outer layers, leaving him in a white button-up shirt and black pants which he manages to look like peak fashion. He finally looks up at her and Soarynn feels caught even though she's done nothing wrong. He looks tired, he looks like he expected her to be waiting for him when he got back and she usually is.

But not tonight. The roles have been reversed.

"Hi," she says softly, "how was dinner?"

From what Coriolanus has told her, the dinners he attends are often business-related and very boring. She still asks about them even though he rarely goes into detail about what was discussed. He gives her a look, a condescending, sharp look as if she's greatly disappointed him, "Dinner was good," he answers curtly, twisting the rose in between his fingers, "I kept thinking about coming home to you, so imagine my surprise when Eudora said that you stepped out."

Soarynn feels frozen, she feels caught, like she's done something wrong even though she hasn't. If only he knew what it's been like to live in her mind the past few hours.

"I just had to go do something," she starts but he holds his hand up, stopping her, silencing her, "You just had to go do something at ten o'clock at night?" He stands up slowly, letting the rose fall onto the floor and he takes a step towards her, Soarynn has always admired how big Coriolanus is but right now he's damn near frightening. He looms over her and looks down at her, his jaw tightening and his muscles tense, "Tell me Soarynn, do you take me for a fool?"

Soarynn is speechless. He hasn't even heard her out and he's already acting accusatory, "I don't take you for much of anything right now," she answers truthfully and it does nothing but upset him further but they can both be upset together as far as she's concerned.

"I don't speak about Livia often but she'd nev-"

Soarynn is turning on her heel before he can even finish that sentence before he can finish comparing her to his dead wife, "Well I'm not Livia," she calls back from the bathroom, "and I'm not running around behind your back being unfaithful either even though you certainly seem to have made up your mind already as to what I was doing before I got back." She watches him emerge from the closet through the mirror's reflection, he looks upset that she left him and more upset that he came home and she wasn't here to greet him.

But Soarynn is more than upset. She's pissed.

She finally turns back around to face him, some fire has been lit inside of her since visiting Livia's grave and it's about time she set some rules around here if she's going to marry this man who drives her mad. "And I will not tolerate you walking all over me," she tells him matter-of-factly, taking slow steps towards him, "I will not allow you to accuse me of being unfaithful when I have been nothing of the sort. Or do you want to revisit the last time you accused me of such things?" She asks, tilting her head up at him while they both remember how he fired her without so much as hearing her out after Festus came onto her.

A painful memory for both of them but for very different reasons.

Coriolanus is on the losing side of this battle and he's slowly realizing it but he's stubborn and arrogant at times so he won't just back down. He's not built like that, wasn't raised like that.

"Then where were you?" He asks, his hand coming up to grip her jaw, forcing her to maintain eye contact with him. Soarynn gives him a defiant look, "I was paying my respects," she tells him, "at the Cemetery." A confused look washes over his face, she's sure that he imagined the worst, her tangled up in bed with another man. Not running around the Cemetery in the middle of the night.

"The Cemetery," he repeats but this time there's no bitterness in his tone, no venom or malice. Just confusion. Soarynn nods to the best of her ability with him holding her face in his large hand, "It was long overdue and I needed to make peace with some things before I..." Her voice trails off because she can't tell him that she knows, that she's put the pieces together, "Before I fully committed myself to you," she finishes.

There, that wasn't so hard.

Coriolanus still looks confused, vexed by her wording and Soarynn places a hand on his chest, "You can ask my driver if you want," she says slowly, "he'll tell you the same thing I did."

That jolts Coriolanus out of his confusion and he clears his throat, quickly shaking his head and releasing her jaw, "I believe you," he tells her, "and you're right, you're nothing like Livia and I would do well to remember that."

Soarynn hums in agreement, she knows it'll take him some time to unlearn old habits but she's more than willing to be a patient teacher, "Yes you would. I much prefer us when we don't argue." Coriolanus lets out a breathy laugh, carding his fingers through his messy curls, unruly after a long day of work, "I do as well," he admits, "I was just, I expected you to be here when I got back so when you weren't I..."

"You thought the worst," Soarynn finishes for him, slipping her hand into his, intertwining their fingers, "and I understand why you would start to worry but in the future, talk to me before accusing me alright?"

A remorseful look grows across his handsome features, he looks so very sorry for how he just treated her, "I will, and I'm sorry," he tells her, bringing their intertwined hands up to his mouth so he can kiss the back of her hand, "I trust you Soarynn. I don't want you to think that I don't."

Soarynn could always chew him out just a little longer, just for the fun of it but she's not a masochist. And she doesn't enjoy seeing others at their lowest. "I trust you too," she says, pushing herself to her toes to press a kiss to his cheek which feels a bit rough, "and I think you need to shave."

They both laugh at her comment, Coriolanus always shaves his face at night and Soarynn appreciates a clean-shaven face compared to a rough one. The girls do as well, whenever they give Coriolanus a kiss on the cheek they make sure to let him know if he needs to grab a fresh razor blade.

"Then why don't you help me," he offers, pulling them towards the counter.

Soarynn can't hide her look of surprise, she's seen him shave before but she's never helped him do it, only watched while she did her own thing. "Are you sure?" She asks while he pulls open one of the drawers on his side of the counter, she wouldn't want to accidentally cut his handsome face.

"Of course," he says, brandishing a razor along with a bottle of what must be shaving cream, "I trust you."

Soarynn's not sure that she trusts herself with a job like this but she still shrugs off her coat and slips out of her heels, leaving her in the dress she wore today.

She leans against the counter, admiring their shared bathroom space. Before she moved in with him, this bathroom was sparse. The countertops had nothing on them aside from a bottle of cologne or a box of tissues. Now that Soarynn lives here, there are lots of feminine products for her face and hair. She has a small makeup organizer that sits on top of the counter, it has roses painted on the side of it and it holds her favorite makeup products. There's also a photo of Soarynn with the children from one of their many visits to the museum.

She likes to look at it while she does her hair. The bathroom is huge to put it plainly and Soarynn has more than enough to fill it up. There's also a built-in vanity by the shower where she often does her makeup if she doesn't feel like standing at the counter. A small vase of roses sits on the vanity counter, always fresh from Coriolanus who insists that she's as pretty as a rose.

"If I nick you then you'll only have yourself to blame," she tells him as he comes over to her side of the counter with his tools in hand. Coriolanus shrugs, "That's a risk I'm willing to take if it means you'll kiss me on the cheek more often, now hop onto the counter darling."

Soarynn eyes the counter warily, she's never sat on it before and she doesn't doubt its ability to hold her up but she does doubt her ability to keep her dress from getting shaving cream on it. "Let me take my dress off first," she murmurs, reaching behind her to pull down the zipper. She slips out of her dress without even thinking about how sensual it might look to Coriolanus who is a man who often thinks with what's between his legs rather than his head.

In only her bralette and underwear, Soarynn hops onto the counter, her legs dangling off the edge, "Where do I start?" She asks, ignoring Coriolanus and his slacked jaw while he shamelessly eyes her almost naked body, "I don't think you're finished," he teases, going to pull the strap to her bralette off of her shoulder but Soarynn slaps his hand away, "Behave yourself," she chides, "and hand me the razor."

Coriolanus does as he's told but begins unbuttoning his shirt, baring his chest to her which does unspeakable things to the mind that Soarynn desperately tries to keep pure. He smirks at how he's affected her by simply taking off his shirt and leans down to press a kiss to her lips, "Now we're even," he murmurs while kissing her. Soarynn sighs into the kiss, shaving long forgotten once his hands wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Even on the counter she's still shorter than him but she doesn't mind, especially when his hands slide down to her ass, making her whimper, "We need to focus," she says between kisses.

Coriolanus groans when her own hands come to rest on his belt, tugging at the buckle, "Focus on what?" Soarynn giggles into the kiss, over the past few months they've gotten to know every inch of each other, including their most intimate areas. Coriolanus is a man who gets off on watching his partner being pleasured which is great for Soarynn who loves when he goes down on her. He'll often wake her up by slipping under the covers and prying her legs open, pleasuring her until she cums.

"On shaving," she reminds him, finally getting his belt unbuckled and tossing it onto the floor. When it comes to shaving, both of them run a tight ship. Soarynn has always preferred to be as hairless as possible but she was pleasantly surprised when she found that Coriolanus felt the same way about himself. There was just something about a man who wasn't afraid to shave.

Her hand slips under the waistband of his pants and her fingers graze over the growing boner straining in his boxers, feeling his shudder against his touch, "You know," she says, "it's a shame that we're so traditional, waiting for marriage and all that." She palms him with her hand and he gasps into the kiss, "Yes," he grits out, "it's a real shame."

Soarynn would be lying if she said that she hadn't thought about it before, thought about Coriolanus fully taking her and making her his. But all good things come to those who wait. And Soarynn can be very patient.

꧁ ꧂

It amazes Soarynn how two people can go from being super sexual to tenderly intimate within a matter of minutes.

With the warm shower water running over her skin, she feels perfectly content with his large hands on her hips, his lips gently kissing up and down her neck while they shower off their sexual encounter from minutes before. She lets out a content sigh when his hand lays flat against her stomach and imagines what it would be like to carry a child for him, to have a baby bump and feel their child kicking against his hand.

"What're you thinking about?"

Soarynn opens her eyes, remembering where she is and who she's with, a man who is not yet her husband. "The future," she says, not entirely a lie. She's been thinking about the future a lot lately, what it holds for her, for the family that might be hers someday.

Coriolanus kisses the back of her shoulder before gently spinning her around so that the warm water runs down her back now, "The future hmm? What about the future?" Her breath catches in her throat, it makes her nervous to speak it out loud because then it might not come true.

"I just feel as though something wonderful might happen," she says, lifting her feet off the ground when he wraps his arms around her waist, spinning them around because he knows how much she loves it. His eyes twinkle with amusement and adoration, "Would it be so bad if something wonderful did happen?"

Soarynn wonders if Coriolanus can feel how fast her heart is beating from his question. They're literally chest to chest tight now, nothing between them, "No," she answers softly, "I'd like it very much for something wonderful to happen to us."

He smiles at her use of the word 'us' something she's been doing more often whether she realizes it or not. It's hard not to when she already sees them as an inseparable pair, especially with the children being so on board with their relationship.

"Me too."

She bites her bottom lip, debating on whether or not she should utter those three words that she's never said before in this context.

But after today, after their honesty and her visit to the Cemetery, she feels brave enough to say it.

"I love you."

Coriolanus goes through a range of emotions in about five seconds. From surprise to bewilderment to realization and back to adoration all within the blink of an eye. She wonders if she said it too soon, if she should quickly add that she was joking, just testing the waters.

One of his hands comes up to gently hold her face, holding her as if she's made of priceless glass, so fragile and easy to break. She used to be like that, but not anymore. She's stronger now, better, more determined.

"I love you too."

Soarynn breaks into the biggest smile she's ever worn. She's never felt this way about someone before and she doesn't think Coriolanus has either. They're still learning, still growing as people, as individuals. But she's happy to grow with him, safely by his side, loved and cherished.

Soarynn knows a lot of things but she knows one thing for absolute certain.

She's going to marry this man.

| Part 11. |

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@lovelylove268 @strawberriicakes @kickmybark @villiansarehottest @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead

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