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caelivir · 10 months ago

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hidden lights | rayne ames

— synopsis. reading rayne ames is impossible. that's why you don't get why he offers to take you out on a date after you've been stood up again.

— pairing. rayne ames x fem!reader

— genres. modern au, you and rayne are roommates, fluff, you’re so oblivious it hurts, rayne's most likely ooc towards the end but we do it for plot,

— warnings. one kys thrown in at the end but it’s not in a serious manner

— word count. 3.2k

— notes. in honor of triple liner rayne being animated. i have quite literally been waiting to see it animated for years. also hi.

you can never tell what rayne ames is thinking. he wears the same cold, uninterested glare on his face at all times of the day. he never speaks unless spoken to, never lets you know when he leaves the apartment, never does anything to show that he actually has emotions.

you're asked on the daily how you survive rooming with him, and in all honesty, it's really not that bad. he does his half of the chores, and he doesn't leave his shit all over the apartment. really, the guy's only problem is his lack of emotion. it drives you up the wall.

finn says not to take it to personally during the one day he visited his brother. apparently, he's like that with everyone, but he's still a good guy. it just takes time.

you would like to believe that, but rayne makes that extremely difficult to believe when he looks like he wants to kill every person who so happens to exist in his direction.

so naturally, seeing him so angered after finding out that you've been stood up is surprising. it's an even bigger shock when he offers to take you out on a date instead.

you don't know what compels you to agree. even if you hadn't accepted his offer, something tells you that rayne would've found a way to get you to leave with him so there's no use in trying to deny him in this matter.

that's why you allow him to drive all the way to marchétte street, where a night market is being held in full swing. the road has all sorts of stalls lined up one after the other, ranging from foods to clothes. but because the marchétte night market is ridiculously popular, the place is packed to the brim with people.

rayne offers his hand once he notices that you're daunted by the crowds. you stare at him with surprise. when you don't make a move to accept this action, rayne huffs before grabbing your hand. he interlocks his fingers with yours and drags you into marchétte street's traffic.

the first thing you note is that rayne's hands are surprisingly warm and soft. for someone so incapable of talking, his touch is strangely reassuring.

he drags you to a vendor selling takoyaki. and even as he orders, rayne doesn’t let go of your hand.

“what do you want?” he says into your ear so that he doesn’t have to yell over all the noise. the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin sends shivers down your spin. it's maddening.

“oh. uh-” your eyes quickly scan over the menu, and you blurt out the first item that you read. out of habit you reach for your wallet, but rayne is quick to shut you down.

“absolutely not.” he grumbles, letting your hand drop to your side so he can pull out his cash. rayne hands the amount to the girl at the register, and she hands back his change that he drops into the tip jar.

“thanks.” you say quietly, still so flustered about the entire situation.

rayne only studies you before humming in acknowledgement. “come on.” he guides his hand to your upper back, moving you out the way so you can wait on the side for your orders.

it’s during this time you really look at rayne as if that would provide you with the answers you need to understand him. you try to wrap your head around it. you draft up every possible explanation, but none of them seem to make sense.

unless… it couldn’t be… does rayne like you? you shake your head, dismissing the thought as soon as it crosses your mind. no, that’s absurd, the furthest thing from logical. this is rayne ames we’re talking about. in the five months that you’ve been living together, you two have never had a solid conversation. how could he ever like someone he’s barely talked to?

you're about to confront rayne about his intentions until your number order is called, and all the courage you built up crumbles away as rayne leaves you to go pick up your takoyaki.

still, whatever his reasons for doing this may be, this is a rare opportunity to come by, and that means that maybe rayne doesn't have to continue being a stranger. maybe you can get under those layers and find that good guy finn said was there.

"i never knew marchétte had a night market." you say, breaking the silence as the two of you walk side by side through the market.

"i didn't either." rayne admits, poking his fork into one of the octopus balls, and shoving the whole thing into his mouth.

"what?" your face scrunches in disbelief. "then how'd you find out?"

"i asked finn as we were going down to the garage." your date shares nonchalantly.

you turn to look at rayne with the intent of questioning him further, but the sight of his cheeks bulging with food makes you burst out in a fit of giggles.

"what?" rayne asks, narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip to contain your laughter. your gaze falls on a mixture of crumbs and sauce that sits on the corner of his mouth, only causing you to smile wider.

"you got a little something there." you gesture at his lips. rayne fumbles for a moment, swiping his fingers around various sections of his mouth, somehow only cleaning half of the mess up.

you shake your head, still grinning up at him. he tenses when your thumb grazes the edges of his lips. you can feel his eyes staring deep into you, and you have to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.

"all done." you whisper, wiping the remainders on the napkin in your hand.

rayne doesn't say anything regarding what occurred, only urging you to follow him further down marchétte street.

you swear that you see the tips of his ears go red, and something about that makes you all fuzzy inside.

as the night progresses, you and rayne abide your time by visiting stalls. well, it's more like you choose which ones interest you the most, and rayne follows behind. you comment on certain items that look nice; sometimes, you ask for your roommate's opinions to decide on whether something will be worth your money or not. to your surprise, rayne's advice is solid, and you end up listening to him.

at some point, you convinced him to buy a pair of absurdly looking mugs for the apartment. he fought you hard on it, saying that a mug shaped like a fish is extremely inconvenient, but in the end, you won with insistent begging.

when the two of you both got bored of the market, you decide to take rayne to one of your favorite spots in the city.

"the park? really?" rayne gives you a dead stare.

"hey, don't judge." you pout. "i love this place."

"why? no offense, but i don't think parks are all that special."

"i feel like i can take a step back here and just a catch a break from everything," you answer honestly. "sometimes, i sit down and watch people as they live their lives, and something about that is strangely comforting. it makes me want to keep going."

rayne doesn't follow up on your words, but you can tell that he's really considering them, and that brings a smile onto your face.

"plus, i feel like it's a good place for when you want to talk to someone." you grab onto your roommate's wrist. "come on let's go to the swings."

you practically drag rayne to the playground, which is completely deserted, but that's to be expected when it's already 10p.m. no parent would be dumb enough to bring their kid out this late.

you force rayne onto the the swing next to you, and all he does is sit there, unwilling to indulge himself in such a simple joy. annoyed with him, you hop off your own set, coming behind him.

"what are you doing?" rayne whips his head around as your hands plant themselves firmly on his back.

"oh live a little." you huff, mustering up enough strength to push him. the swing rocks forwards and comes back. even as rayne complains and threatens you, you continue to push him, watching as he goes higher and higher. he may be masking it, but you can tell that he's enjoying it.

you finally give up when your arms grow sore and a layer of sweat coats your face. slumping back into the swing beside rayne, you breathe heavily. "man, that was a workout."

"i told you to stop." your date reminds you, shooting you a look.

"you can be honest, rayne. i know you liked it."

"i did not."

"yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that." you wave him off, laughing.

for a minute, neither of you say anything. you're the one who said that the park is a place where you can talk openly with someone, yet there's not a single topic that you can think to bring up.

luckily, rayne swoops in to save it. "can i ask you something?" your half-blonde roommate asks, something more serious laced in his voice. it makes you swallow a lump in your throat. an anxious feeling creeps into your body.

"of course you can."

"why did you bother giving that guy a chance?"

it's easy to know exactly who he's referring to. you shrug. "he's nice and has good energy."

"but he had stood you up two times in the past though. clearly he isn't as nice as you make him out to be. you seriously can't be that dumb to have fallen for it three times."

that statement in itself should get you mad (even though he would be right), but there's something peculiar in what he said that had you ignoring the jab altogether. "how'd you know he stood me up twice before? i never told you that."

at that, rayne freezes, eyes blowing wide open. it's so obvious that he's trying to find an excuse right now, but you push further.

"who told you that, rayne?" you lean closer, watching as his ears turn beet red. you're not even angry with him. it's mostly curiosity making you push him. not to mention that seeing him in a flustered state is entertaining and quite cute.

"max did." your roommate finally admits albeit quietly.

you pull your head back. "max? as in max land? how the hell does he know?"

"your dates happened to be at the restaurant he works at."

"why would he bother telling you that though?" you wonder. "up until tonight, i don't think it concerned you."

"it did though." the half-blonde mumbles, thinking you wouldn't hear, but you do anyway.

"what?" you press.

"forget it." rayne shakes his head, growing irritated.

"no. fuck that.." you seethe, annoyed at his unwillingness to be honest with you. rayne bites his tongue to hold back. you see it. "don't act like this. just tell me, or i swear to god i'll text max right now-"

"it's because i knew that i could treat you better." the words rush out of rayne's mouth as he snaps his head toward you. the fire in his eyes die as he locks his gaze onto you. the harsh emotion written across his features softens. you can feel your own exasperation slipping away like that of a retreating ocean tide. he grimaces in regret, knowing that he didn't mean to let that slip out, but he did anyway. it's out in the open, and now you knew.

surely, you're hearing things wrong. perhaps you're misunderstanding what he just said. how could that be misinterpreted though? it's such a painfully straightforward statement, yet it still doesn't make any sense.

rayne sighs. it's like he can already hear your thoughts and your confusion. the least he can do is clear the air and dump everything onto you while he can. "i didn't expect to feel like this," he begins to explain. "when i moved in, i just assumed you'd be another person i wouldn't pay attention to. i'm sure you know how i am. i don't bother getting to know people, but a lot of people feel the need to force themselves into my life, and shit like that pisses me off. but you didn't do that. you introduced yourself, explained the ground rules of the apartment, and then left me alone."

"so... you like the fact that i leave you alone?" you tilt your head.

"shut up. let me finish."

"okay."

"but yeah, that's part of it. you keep your distance, but you still try to show that you care. you don't do anything groundbreaking. it's just that the small things you do for me got to me. it may sound dumb to you, but it meant a lot to me."

suddenly, you're hit like a train because you know exactly what rayne means. you recall all the times you ensured that there was dinner for him, the times you moved his laundry into the dryer when he forgot to do it himself, and the times you restocked his favorite snacks when they ran out. you hadn't realized that you did any of that. it just came naturally, no hidden meaning behind it.

"oh." you breathe out, blinking.

rayne nods, continuing. you're honestly floored over the fact that he still has more to say. "you don't notice it. at least, i don't think you do, but at some point, i tried doing the same for you. i started paying more attention to you and what you liked and how you liked things done. i did it mostly to pay back your kindness, but over time i continued just 'cause i liked seeing your smile."

you have to process that for a minute, piecing together how certain events lined up until it finally clicks into place. "s-so the island vase-"

"i replace the flowers because you like them fresh."

"the key holder?"

"you always forgot to bring your keys until i installed it."

"when you put on movies-"

"i check your letterboxd and hope that you'll sit and watch them with me."

"when i put on movies-"

"i sit with you because i want to be near you."

your jaw falls open. never in a million years could you have expected this. you thought that rayne could care less about your existence, but the reality was that that was far from the truth. cold, aloof rayne was always doing things for you. all this time, you've been so oblivious.

still, there's more to the story so you stay quiet, letting him get his feelings off of his chest. "to be honest, i was never going to say anything. max tried convincing me to confess on multiple occasions, but i was dead set on letting it pass. i didn't think you liked me in the same way anyway.

"but then you came home today and you told me about your date and i just got so... angry," rayne clenches his fist around the chains of the swing. the whole situation infuriates him every time he thinks about it. "it just wasn't fair. you spent so much time into looking your best just for that asshole to go and waste your effort. you're so beautiful, so kind and understanding, and i fucking hate the fact that he's been taking advantage of that.

"i really wasn't thinking clear when i proposed this date to you, but god after tonight, i'd do it all over again. i wanted you to know what it's like to be with someone who does care about you. i wanted to see you smile. i wanted to hear stories. i want you so badly it's all i can think about sometimes.

"i know this is a lot, and i'm freaking you out right now. i'm sorry but you-"

"rayne." you interrupt with a big smile on your face. he was unaware to the fact that you had got up.

"for fucks sake, can you let me finish? this is already weird enough for me to talk about as is." he rolls his eyes, narrowing his gaze at you, blush splashed across his cheeks. still, without any resistance, you pull him up from his swing by his wrists.

"then don't." you whisper as you pull him in.

and the moment you crash your lips onto rayne's, the world stops. he instantly melts into you, the palms of his hands finding the soft skin on your cheeks. your hands tangle themselves into his hair. his lips are incredibly soft. a faint taste of matcha and sugar syrup dances on his tongue from the boba he drank earlier. a noise of approval vibrates down his throat, and you can't help but smile against his lips.

rayne wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he deepens the kiss. you get what he was talking about earlier. this kiss is all it takes to prove it to you. you feel his affection and desire all at once. every single bone in your body is so aware of how much rayne ames cares about you.

when you finally pull away for air, it's like a smile is permanently tugged onto your lips. rayne trains his eyes onto you, engraining every detail of this moment into his head.

a comfortable silence falls as each of you take your time to catch your breaths. your stare finds its way up, admiring the night sky. there are barely any stars out tonight. no, that part isn't remotely true, not fully anyway, because light pollution drowns out stars and their lights. the reality is that there are billions of stars hanging high out of reach; they just go unseen.

rayne is kinda like that you realize. finn was right. his brother is a good guy. there's a hidden light within him behind all those aloof layers of his. you just have to squint and maybe put on some prescription glasses is order to see it. it's a shame it took you five months to to really acknowledge it. but now that you've finally found a glimpse of it, you'll continue to clear past the fog. you want to know every part of rayne and see his light just as he did with you. you want him to be able to shine at his full brightness with no fear. you'll take rayne ames for all that he is.

"come on," you coo, a lovestruck look in your eyes as you slip your hand into rayne's. "let's go home."

bonus:

rayne: finn, give me a date spot quick finn: are you actually going on a date? rayne: stop asking questions finn: there's a night market on marchétte street. finn: are you seriously going on a date though? finn: hello? finn: rayne. finn: stop leaving me on read. finn: is it (y/n)? finn: it is her, huh? finn: asshole.

delisaster: hey sorry delisaster: can we reschedule for next saturday? y/n: kys y/n: lol sorry that was my bf delisaster: bruh what? delisaster: did you have a bf this whole time? *this message could not be sent* delisaster: did you fucking block me? *this message could not be sent*

#anime #manga #mashle #mashle magic and muscles #mashle x reader #rayne ames #rayne x reader #rayne ames x reader #⭑ — fics ⭑.ᐟ♡#♡ — mashle #♡ — rayne

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soonyoungs · 3 months ago

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what about maybe angst/hurt to comfort with mingyu, it could be a really stupid argument they’re both feeling stubborn over & then some cute fluff/smut at the end 🥹🙏🏻

ఇ mingyu and gn!reader

ఇ warnings: smut! alcohol consumption mentioned! not proof read! written while sleepy so i hope it makes sense!

ఇ wc: 1,597 (this was really only supposed to be a short blurb)

ఇ notes: i’m so sorry this took forever! i’ve been so busy with work. i hope this is alright! 💗

[4:33 am]

“you’re drunk,” you say to him, voice monotone “i’m done talking about this until you’ve sobered up and i’ve calmed down”. you close the front door behind him, as he stumbles in. he crosses his arms and juts out a hip in annoyance. if he wasn’t as drunk as he is now you know he’d roll his eyes, but at the moment he can’t even manage that.

he huffs, starting to move passed you and shakes his head “whatever,” he wobbles on unsteady legs, running into the entry wall. you move to help him level himself and in pure, emotional, instinct he pushes your hand away. “ve’got it,” he mumbles, just barely securing his footing and slowly walks by you. bending over to take off your shoes, you sigh at his outburst. hearing you he stops in his tracks, whipping his body back around “got a problem?” he makes his way back to you, softly running into you as he does so.

“no, gyu” you say, slowly “no problem, just tired. let’s talk about this after we’ve gotten some rest, yeah” you straighten your back and pat him on the shoulder “im going to bed, good night”. you stand on your tip-toes and leave a small peck on his cheek, letting your face linger next to his longer than you had meant to. you’re thinking of all the things you want to say, all of the bones you’ve got to pick with him, but before you know it he has his mouth pressed against yours and your back pushed against the front door. a small moan leaves your throat and your eyes widen in surprise, your hands resting on his arms for support.

mingyu lifts his hand to your face, holding it gently in place, as he deepens the kiss. you open your mouth slightly, only allowing him minimal access. in his state of inebriation he is quick to gently nip at your bottom lip warning you before applying more pressure and giving it a good tug before bringing his head back to make eye contact with you. “what were you saying,” he asks as you’re both trying to catch your breath. you honestly can’t even remember what you had been arguing about anymore. was it because mingyu doesn’t know how to turn off the flirtatious charm when he’s speaking to others? was it because he’d had one too many to drink when he told you he’d “only have one”? or was it because you had accepted a drink from a stranger and mingyu made a scene? no matter the reason, all that mattered now was that mingyu finish what he started.

“dunno,” you whisper, reaching up to grab at the hair on the nape of his neck. “not upset anymore,” there’s a mischievous smirk on your lips as you move forward to start where you’d left off. mingyu pushes himself back and picks you up, planning to drag you to your shared bedroom. he’s wobbling around and you’re scared for your life the entire way but, eventually, you make it to your room in one piece.

you’re unceremoniously tossed on to the bed, body bouncing on the mattress a few times at the impact. you’re about to complain when mingyu crawls onto the bed with you, hovering over your body. he sighs before bending his neck, resting his head on your shoulder mumbling something that sounded like an apology. “what,” you cock your head to the side, freeing him from his comfort space so you could hear him clearly.

“sorry i embarrassed you,” he shakes his head, his tresses tickling you as he does so “shouldn’t have made a scene. couldn’t stand to see some weirdo give you something,” you could tell there was more he wanted to say, he’s just struggling to find the words. you stay silent as you allow him time to think and when he’s ready he begins again “was worried about what they gave you too. you took it so easily and didn’t even seem to care, it could’ve been anything in that cup!” he’s not aggressive with his statement but his voice continues to grow louder as he speaks. you finally remember what had you both so heated on your way home.

mingyu had brought you along to a party with some of his coworkers and left you unattended for a while to mingle. being the unsocial butterfly that you are you stayed close to the bar, so as not to get lost. as you were finishing up your drink someone, uninvited, took the seat next to you and had begun to try and strike up uncomfortable small-talk conversation. when the drink in question had been offered, you readily accepted it, thinking that it might just help you get through this painfully awkward moment. as soon as mingyu saw you accept the strangers drink, and throw it back in one go, he was on his way to you. ready to let this stranger know you weren’t available and to take a hike.

“baby,” you coo, running your fingers through his hair “i’m sorry i worried you. i didn’t mean to, i was just trying to get them to go away” you giggle softly, leaving kisses on his head. mingyu moves and peppers small kisses to your lips as his hands travel down to the hem of his shirt, removing it, separating from you to take it off. mingyu makes quick work of your clothes, tossing it to the floor and leaving you both naked.

mingyu is already rearing to go and he’s sincerely hoping the alcohol is to blame, otherwise his neediness for you is much more embarrassing than he’d like to admit. you’re not much better than he is, as you’re quick to reach down and take him in your hand, stroking him. he groans as you apply pressure and tease his tip. mingyu sits up and throws his head back, allowing you to do as you please with him. “so good,” he’s whining “baby slow down, i’m already sensitive” he’s scrunching his nose and furrowing his brows in concentration. he knows he won’t last long but he wants to make the most of it, and cumming before he can even touch you is not the move.

mingyu puts his hand on yours, helping you stroke him for a bit before he stops your movements and starts rubbing his cock against you, teasing you in return. you let out a groan at the feeling of him rutting against you. “gyu,” you huff “mingyu, put it in soon, please” you’re borderline begging him. he hums in acknowledgment, but continues moving against you, hoping that you’ll climax once before he’s inside of you. you’re close when mingyu bends down and kisses the side of your neck, then you’re cheek and finally he’s tugging on your earlobe. you can hear him pant against your ear, as he’s struggling to keep his composure as he’s rutting his hips against you faster now. you finally tip over the edge and throw your head back, hips jumping as you become increasingly more sensitive.

“one more,” mingyu asks of you as he finally slides himself inside your warm walls “god please, give me one more?” you’re clawing down his back at the stretch of him and before you can even adjust he’s hitting the spots he knows only he can. “feel so good, i’m gonna cum soon,” he’s practically laying flat against you, lifting his hips and dropping them down to pound himself inside of you. mingyu’s got your head cradled in his hands as he burrows his face in your neck, licking a stripe the entire length of it before moving to kiss you. he’s so close, he can feel it in his gut. separating himself from your lips, he begins panting in your ear again. “gonna cum,” he’s repeating to you, breath tickling your neck.

“i’m so close mingyu, please don’t stop” you’re just as desperate to cum as mingyu is. you’re lifting your hips to help him fuck himself deeper inside of you. mingyu briefly lets go of your head to sling your legs over his arms, moving up your body, bringing them against your chest. mingyu takes hold of your head again, making eye contact as he presses his forehead against yours. he gives you a small peck before fucking you at a rapid pace, again. you arch your back, pressing your chest against his own and allowing him to hit deeper inside of you than before. “close, ‘m so close,” you’re eyes are glazing over in pleasure as mingyu begins to reach his peak. he takes hold of your ankles, moving your legs and stretching you to your limit. mingyu’s thrusts lose their rhythm as he begins chasing his high. he’s hitting you in all the right places, deep and fast. before you can even comprehend it you’re thrown into your own orgasm. you throw your head back and rake your nails down the expanse of his shoulders as you cry out his name. mingyu continues to fuck you through it, as you begin to babble.

once you’ve both come down from your highs and mingyu has taken care of you, he lays you down, tucks you in and moves to snuggle as you settle down to sleep. “love you gyu, im sorry i made you feel upset. i won’t ever take something from a stranger again,” you pout, giving him a quick peck on the nose before running a finger down his chest, teasingly, “or maybe i will, we’ll see.”

#mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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shiratamahatsumiyo · 5 months ago

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Somewhere in an alternate universe where Malleus' sibling dating Leona and coming out gay to him is like--

Sibling! Draconia: "Brother, I have something important to ask you..."

Malleus: "How strange. Usually you would have Lilia assist you or provide answers to your questions."

Sibling! Draconia: "Yes but this time I am asking for your opinion on a topic concerning... my romantic relationship."

Malleus: "... You have a romantic relationship? Without Lilia or grandmother's guidance? How intriguing."

Sibling! Draconia: "Brother!"

Malleus: "My apologies. I am just amazed by the fact that you managed to obtain a romantic relationship. I mean... You do not seem to enjoy interacting or mingling with people. So this... Potential lover of yours might be interesting."

Sibling! Draconia: "That's the problem. I think he might concern you."

Malleus: "...He?"

Sibling! Draconia: "..."

Malleus: "... Sibling! Draconia. What is the meaning of this?"

Sibling! Draconia: "... I've already asked for permission from Lilia. I only need yours."

Malleus: "I do not understand. Why?"

Sibling! Draconia: "I know that I am only allowed to marry a suitable candidate by grandmother's suggestions but... I felt like I was hiding and suppressing the affection of me and my... Lover held for each other... Am I not capable of loving someone on my own accord?"

Malleus: "..."

Sibling! Draconia: "... If you do not approve, I understand-"

Malleus: "Sibling! Draconia, you are a Draconia."

Sibling! Draconia: "I know! Draconias do not have time for affairs with others. I must be prepared and trained to rule the Valley of Thorns alongside my family-"

Malleus: "Sibling! Draconia. Us Draconias must cherish the ones we deem worthy of our love and affection, or so Lilia have taught me. So whoever this man or woman might be, I will try to deem him worthy of the title of being your lover."

Sibling! Draconia: "... Do you promise?"

Malleus: "I promise."

Sibling! Draconia: ....*exhale*....

Malleus: "...Well?..."

Sibling! Draconia: "He's a bit irked about the thought of visiting you. So I am asking for your permission alone."

Malleus: "It's alright. Many have been intimidated by me after all, but I must say, it actually makes me pleased to hear that he fears the Draconias."

Sibling! Draconia: "His name is Leona Kingscholar--"

FUCKING LIGHTNING DESTROYS THE ROOF

Malleus: "A what, dear Sibling! Draconia? 😊"

Sibling!Malleus: "...A beastman by the name of Leo--"

Malleus: "BY THE GREAT SEVENS... HAVE YOU GOT STONES FOR EYES?! HAVE YOU GOT WAX IN YOUR EARS?! YOUR RELATIONSHIP WILL NEVER LAST A SINGLE SECOND FOR THAT RUGGED HOUSE CAT OF A FOOL WILL JUST TAKE YOUR PRESENCE FOR GRANTED. YOU WILL BE A LAUGHINGSTOCK FOR YOU MARRIED SUCH A SPINELESS COWARD."

Sibling! Draconia: "Oh don't be dramatic. He's not that bad..."

Malleus: "HE WILL EITHER PLACE THE DRACONIA NAME TO SHAME OR FORCE YOU TO BE ONE OF HIS TROPHIES THAT HE'LL FLAUNT TO HIS KINGDOM AS A MEANS OF INTIMIDATION. HE IS NOT SUITABLE FOR CARING AND PROTECTING YOU. YOU MUST LEAVE HIM AT ONCE!"

Sibling! Draconia: "Hey, you promised!"

Malleus: "YOUR NAIVETY HAS BLINDED YOU FROM THE TRUE NATURE OF THAT MANED IDIOT. HE WILL USE ANY ACTIONS NECESSARY TO SUCCEED IN CLIMBING FIRST PLACE, AND THAT MEANS HE WILL USE YOU AS A GATEWAY."

Sibling! Draconia: "Uhh, Brother?"

Malleus: "HE WILL NOT INTERFERE WITH THE DRACONIAS. ESPECIALLY YOU. YOU HAVE YOUR FUTURE OF SERVING THE ENTIRETY OF YOUR NATION AHEAD OF YOU AND YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT KINGSCHOLAR AS YOUR LOVER?! HOW ABSURD!! YOU WILL EXPERIENCE TIRESOME DAYS WITH HIM!!! YOU'RE FRUITLESS EFFORTS OF BEING WITH HIM WILL LAST!!!! IF YOU WERE TO MARRY HIM YOU WILL SUFFER ETERNAL PAIN!!!!!!!!"

Sibling! Draconia: "...Oh well, I guess the mention of marriage means I have a choice then. I will invite him for a little meeting in the dorm and I expect both of you to bury the hatchet. How does that sound?"

Malleus, pouting in a corner: "No!"

Sibling! Draconia: "Too late, dear brother! Haha!"

Malleus: "Sibling! Draconia!!!"

.....

Lilia, Sebek, Silver: "...What in the actual fuck just happened--"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #TWST x male reader #Twisted Wonderland x male reader #Malleus Draconia x Sibling reader #Leona Kingscholar x male reader #Leona Kingscholar x reader #TWST incorrect quotes

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latenightdaydreams · 6 months ago

Note

https://twitter.com/adultvide/status/1789610054754378177?t=-uye80G6jPXsyPbYaGE5KQ&s=19

Can you please write about divorced!Konig with babysitter!reader. He has a three years old son and he has to go on a deployment so he hired a babysitter, allow her to stay in his house because she's still in university. After months he comes back from his deployment. When he opens the main door and sees the babysitter is playing with his son. That scene is so warm for him 😩

The link has been removed BUT I did get to watch it before.

(It was a guy thigh f-ing his baby sitter before accidently slipping in)

The Nanny (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, thigh fucking, age gap

1.8k word count

🍷

König turns his key in the lock, opening the door. Once inside, he kicks off his boots, dropping his bags. In the distance, he can hear Jakob giggling, followed by the little pitter patter of his feet. He walks forward into the home more to see you hiding behind one of the chairs while Jakob runs around looking for you.

Your beautiful eyes meet König’s, putting your finger over your lips as if asking him to not give you away. A beautiful smile on your full lips as the sound of Jakob calling him draws his attention away.

“Were Momo at?” Jakob put his arms up in confusion.

“Momo?” König seemed confused until he realized that was what he was calling you. “Oh, I don’t know where Momo is.”

Jakob looks around the room before walking the opposite direction of you. König watches as you crouch, sneaking up behind Jakob, wrapping your arms around him and spinning him around. Loud laughter emanates from the both of you. He can’t help but to chuckle to himself as he watches how the two of you have bonded.

His eyes drift down to how your ass looks in your gray leggings before thinking about how perfect your stomach would look round with his child. You’ve already proven yourself as being a capable mother. He snaps out of it once he hears your voice.

“I was going to tuck him in if you wanted to say goodnight now.”

“Ja, Danke. Come here.” He wraps his arms around Jakob and kisses his face all over. “Have a goodnight and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Ich liebe dich.” Jakob kisses him back.

“I love you too.”

You grab Jakob's hand and walk him upstairs to his bedroom. He jumps into his bed as you grab his favorite book. Snuggling on the bed with him, you open to the first page and read. While reading, you can hear König moving around downstairs. As Jakob falls asleep, you close the book and kiss his forehead.

“Good night, Jakie.”

As Jakob sleeps on the bed, you quietly make your way out of his bedroom door. You make your way downstairs to clean up the mess left behind from the wild day of playing. Yet, once downstairs, you see everything is cleaned up already.

“Would you like a glass, Hase?” König holds up a glass of wine to you as he takes a sip from his own.

“Oh,” you look from the glass in his hands to his eyes. “No, thank you.” You politely reject.

“Come on, you’re old enough, no?”

“I am…” You blush and slowly accept the glass of wine.

König watches your lips apart and takes a small sip as he smirks. He takes a sip of his own and walks to the couch in the living room, leaning back, and stretches out his long legs on the coffee table. He pats the spot on the couch next to him.

You sit next to him, keeping a small space between the two of you. You’ve never been this close to him before, or really spent any time at all with him other than when he hired you.

“Thank you, for everything you do. Caring for Jakob, the house, my plants. I’d be lost without your help.” His Austrian accent is as smooth as butter.

“It’s no problem, really. Thank you for giving me a place to stay.” A nervous giggle in your voice.

“Not an issue at all, Hase.” He gently moves his hand to your knee and strokes the soft fabric of your leggings. “How are your classes going?”

“They’re all going well.” You look down at his hand on your knee before you take a bigger drink from your wine glass.

“Gut, I’m glad to hear that.” His thumb rubs back and forth, sliding his hand up to your thigh ever so slightly.

There is a lull in the conversation, causing you to turn your attention to your wine. König takes a moment to let his eyes drift over your body, taking in the way your body curves as you sit.

“Are you talking to any boys? I know Austrian men would love a woman like you.” His eyes drift from your breasts to your eyes.

“Uh, no boys.” Your nervous laughter only gets worse so you cover it up by drinking more.

“No? A beautiful young woman like yourself with no boyfriend?” His hand gently squeezes your thigh. He notices how you finish your wine quickly. “Are you wanting a refile, Hase?”

“No, I should get to bed. Jakob still likes to wake up before the sun rises.” I smile.

“Here, I’ll take your glass for you.”

“Thanks.” You hand it to him, standing up. “Good night, Herr. König.”

“Just König is fine, good night.”

He stands to walk to the kitchen, his eyes following you as you go upstairs. The way your hips sway is hypnotic. Continuing on, he lets out a sigh and leans against the counter. It’s been decades since he was single so he has no idea how to flirt with women anymore, let alone one as beautiful and young as you are.

In your room, you take off your leggings and shirt, tossing them into the laundry basket. You reach behind you to unhook your bra, placing it on the back of your desk chair. Since it was a warm night, you slip on a night gown. Just as you are about to get into bed you hear a knock on the door.

König waits for you to answer the door, his arm up and resting against the door frame. Once you open, his eyes instantly drop down to your breasts. Your nipples are hard and he can see them clearly. The dress barely reaches your mid-thigh, you look absolutely divine. He has forgotten everything he was going to say before seeing you.

The hand resting by his side comes up and cups your face, “You…are so…beautiful.” The words leave his lips slowly as if he is trying to be cautious with them. After all, you’re his son's Nanny and he doesn’t want to chase you away. He pulls you towards him as he leans in and kisses you deeply. His other arm comes down and wraps around your waist and lifts you up into his arms, your legs wrap around his waist causing your dress to come up even more.

As he walks into your room, he kicks the door closed with one of his feet. His mouth opens against yours, nipping at your bottom lips so you open your mouth. You do, and he shoves his tongue into your mouth. He swirls it around, taking in the way you taste as he groans.

König gently lays you on the bed, his heavy body pressing you into the mattress. Your hands caress his muscular arm as his hands pull up your nightgown, he is desperate to see what you look like underneath it all.

Once your dress is up enough, he breaks the kiss to pull it off of your body. Gently, he touches every inch of you as he drinks you in. His fingers run gently over your nipples. He leans in and begins to flick his tongue over one while rubbing circles over the other.

“You’re stunning, Hase.” He whispers into your tender flesh before he continues. Slowly, he undresses himself. Lips occasionally coming back up to kiss yours.

You stop him once he reaches for your panties, “I’m not on birth control.”

“Oh… I don’t have condoms.” König whispers, thinking for a moment. “I won’t fuck you tonight.”

König quickly gets back into kissing your down your neck, down your stomach, and to your thighs. He pulls down your underwear to expose your beautiful pussy. A groan escapes his lips once he sees you fully nude. It’s like a dream. Without realizing he began to play with his cock, he’s never seen such a beautiful woman before.

Small moans escape your lips as you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch his lips make their way to your pussy. After every sloppy kiss he gives you a small bite that makes you tremble every time. Once his mouth reaches between your legs, he wastes no time. He quickly wraps his lips around your clit and begins to suck.

You jerk forward as you begin to moan, his bright eyes looking up at you. Letting go he laps his fat tongue over your clip rapidly. He grabs your legs and folds them back, knees by your head, and begins to swirl his tongue around your tight asshole. You’ve never had this done before; a gasp escapes you as you watch him.

His eyes flicker from your pussy in front of him to your surprised face. He smirks and moves one of his hands to your clit and begins to rub it. Your face begins to turn into one of pleasure, his cock twitches wishing to be inside of you.

König lowers you again, moving his face to kiss your side and stomach as he slips two of his fingers into your pussy. His fingers are so big they feel better than your toy. Your moans get slightly louder so you grab the blanket to bite on to. A wet trail of kisses trails back down to your pussy, his tongue moving in circles around your clit.

“König! Too much!” You try to push his head away but he shakes it.

“Not until you cum.” He feels your fingers pull his hair as your moans slowly escalate. Your hips begin to rock into his tongue so he holds it still for you as his fingers curl up and rub back and forth on your g spot.

You close your eyes as a strong wave of ecstasy crashes over you, feeling the wetness of your orgasm on your thighs. The blanket in your mouth doing little to silence your moans as you cry out for König. He moves his face away, withdrawing his fingers and rubbing them on your wet thighs.

“Lay down on your stomach with your legs closed together.”

You do as he says without question, looking over your shoulder as he moves his body over yours. He slips his sensitive cock between his thighs, using your cum as his lube. A shaky breath leaves his lips as he thrust himself between your thick thighs. Your legs twitch when the tip of his cock rubs past your clit.

“Fuck you’re so soft.” He moans. He watches your ass jiggle with every movement, driving him wild. There is no way he will last very long.

“I’m going to cum.” König whimpers. Getting lost in the sensation of you, he begins to fuck your thighs in a quicker pace. His cock accidently slips into your tight little cunt, instantly wrapping around him as he thrust almost all the way in.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out from feeling your cunt stretched out suddenly. König’s cock throbs deeply inside of you. He doesn’t pull out, what’s done is done. Instead, with his knees he spreads your legs apart, grabbing you by your hips and pulls you to him.

#konig #konig x reader #könig #konig cod #konig x y/n #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x reader smut #x reader #konig x you #könig x you #könig x y/n #konig x female reader #smut #cod smut #könig call of duty

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storiumemporium · 1 year ago

Text

Astarion As a Father

Fem!Tav/Reader

I FINALLY GOT A NEW KEYBOARD WITH FULLY FUNCTIONING KEYS LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I elected to write about something that's been giving me brainworms for ages, because I'd been talking about it with someone on here awhile ago and it just infested me. Astarion finding out you're pregnant and how he handles fatherhood. (Or, in this case, doesn't at first.) This isn't my best work but I blame it on the fact that I didn't intend for it to be THIS FUCKING LONG okay 😭

But without further ado, daddy Astarion:

Finding out:

When it comes to children, I think Astarion hasn't put much thought into it beyond 'me!? ABSOLUTELY NOT—'

He has no illusions about his state of mind and his faculties, you see. Astarion knows that he's fucked up, he knows that he's a problem, and he's only entirely too confident that any child unfortunately put under his care would likely end up just as damaged as he is, were they to miraculously make it to adulthood. He's just not equipped for it.

And, frankly, Astarion isn't even aware he can have children... That's just, not something he ever thought to question. He's undead, is he not? That should take care of the...fertility question.

Shouldn't it?

Truth be told, Cazador never told him of the possibilities because it was never meant to be a possibility. Astarion was too malnourished, his victims too short lived for anything to ever have come of it. He was supposed to die a sacrifice, not live to carry his own bloodline (hah) onward.

Were you to ever ask him about it, even jokingly over dinner one eve, he'd be very firm in the fact that it's a terrible idea and he'd be entirely unequipped. He would even go so far as to say he's the worst choice out of all of your past companions.

"Me? No. Absolutely not. I'm sure whatever little devil you managed to cook up would be the most charming child Baldur's Gate has ever seen... But even that magical explosive that fancied himself a God would be better suited to fatherhood, darling. I am built for luxury and adventure, nothing else." All bookended by typical Astarion preening.

So when the day comes and you inform him of the little life growing in your womb?

Nope. Not happening, not even a chance of happening.

The denial is strong with this one.

And when I say denial, I mean that Astarion well and truly blots out what you've said from his mind, as if it simply didn't happen at all. You never had the conversation, you never dropped the revelation, there is no child, he is not becoming a father.

It's not a lack of want— though he doesn't realize that yet— it's true, blinding terror. Before it was just a joke, just something for him to brush off with commentary about how terribly he'd do as a parent, better the uncle than anything else. But now it's a reality and to accept what you've said is to accept that he might well and truly destroy a child. But not just any, yours.

The traumas Astarion possesses heap onto his shoulders and slough off plentiful enough to make new oceans of it. Now, not only is he just beginning to regain his own autonomy, he's supposedly being given responsibility over a brand new life?

(It would only make sense for Astarion in retrospect, that the life you willingly sacrificed to nourish and nurture him would in turn allow him to grow a new life within you. The fool had just been too blind to consider it: The way, fresh off your blood, he could pull back from the delicate column of your throat and you would find his cheeks and ears and chest flushed with the loveliest shade of pink, eyes wide and soft and alive. The way his entire body would warm, going from corpse frigid to something just beneath normal. The way his once-still heart would slowly beat again.

He'd even asked you once- curled together on a familiar silken bed, foreheads touching and your hands clasped together between your chests- if you knew what it felt like to be so, so hungry that all you could even think about was about badly you wanted to eat? How food sounded so good that the desire became crossed and instead felt even more painful and nauseating? How it consumed your ability to make rational decisions, denied you the capacity to control your emotions?

He'd told you then, voice tender and timid and weak, that he'd felt like that every single day for two whole centuries, until the night you'd willingly laid down on that cot and put your life in his hands.

It was so simple really, of course you granted him the strength to create life. It was you.)

And of course it comes to a head before there is any chance at recovery. Your body begins to show the changes, you begin to swell, and Astarion only grows more avoidant and flighty. Because now he can't simply wipe the idea from his mind and continue on as if the child doesn't exist, the proof is there every single time he looks at you. He makes it very clear to you that he will not be returning to your side without a confrontation, a very potentially ugly one at that.

And ugly it is, explosive. Astarion hasn't truly had the time to recover from his life under Cazador, and all of those protective traits he grew remain sharp as ever, returning to the surface as if they'd never truly gone away to begin with. He sneers and hisses, tries his best to dig in and hurt you enough to stop poking his tender wounds. Enough to push you away so he can lick his wounds back open. He'll go so far as to accuse you of infidelity, though he regrets the words the moment they leave his lips, it's easier for him to imagine that you simply grew tired of him, that you were weary and longed for the daylight. That you wanted someone who could hold you beneath the sun, unlike him.

How you respond to this is entirely up to you, but just shy of throwing something truly despicable back into his face, such as Cazador, Astarion will apologize... eventually. If you remain stalwart and patient, if you have it in you to recognize that he doesn't mean his words, that he's barbing you with intent, Astarion will break down in that very same argument, his angry and accusatory rant will dissolve into an admission of deep insecurity and deeper terror.

But if you respond with anger? Justifiable, and Astarion knows that even in the moment as it's happening, but emotions rule him far more than he'd ever care to admit, and he will dig in and relish the reaction he's managed to draw from you. He will bristle and bite back until suspicion and bitterness fully claims his heart, and he aborts the conversation to hide in the shadows.

Astarion will wait until nightfall, until his freedom calls for him. The one thing that always manages to clear his head, even when you prove to be the cause of his muddying. It's a reminder, every time he steps into the cool and dark of Baldur's Gate, that Cazador is dead and he is a free man. That he can go where he chooses and when he chooses to, and not only that no one can stop him, but that you wouldn't even want to stop him.

And that truth is always what brings Astarion home.

Under the distant lonely stars and that cold moon, he has to remember that time and again you have let him. You have accepted him, you have not fought him on anything shy of a horrible mistake he wanted to make in a moment of weakness and hysteria. You have accepted all his deepest and ugliest wounds and kissed them like they were freckles to pour affection on. You fought Cazador for him, you defended him from your own friends. You even- at times- tested your own morals for him.

You wouldn't betray him, and Astarion knows he can't betray you.

Astarion would return to you late, curling into bed at your side, his eyes would not meet you, and his apology would come in the form of a simple confession. "I am... afraid. I am afraid."

Astarion wouldn't blame you if you don't forgive him immediately for his transgressions, he was cruel and you were vulnerable. But even then you'll find that your love doesn't abandon you again. He accepts- however frightened- that what you've said is true and is coming, and he must accept it. Mind you, it won't be perfect and it won't be romantic. Astarion doesn't know the intricacies of handling a pregnant woman, he's hardly tactful beyond his well honed and flirtatious lines. He genuinely loves you, but he's going to come pre-equipped as father material.

You need something? He'll get it with minimal complaint (but never none, you'd sooner get him to dye his hair black than cease complaining for the sake of it), he won't begrudge you your mood swings though he might be inclined to poke fun at you ever so often. And he will panic when you burst into tears for seemingly no reason, and no- time doesn't make him adjust, he will panic just as much the thousandth time as the first.

However, if it's any consolation. The moment your child enters the world, Astarion is a changed man.

When You Go Into Labor:

Astarion did the honors of informing all of your friends about your pregnancy, once he came to terms with it. And believe me when I say it is extravagant. The stationery and grandiose script that Astarion wields when informing everyone that you were expecting better fits a wedding invitation than it does... well. Very elegantly explaining that Astarion had accidentally knocked you up.

You can tell from the splotchy stains addressed to you from Wyll and Karlach that one of them had been crying when penning the message, Astarion has coin on Wyll, and you on Karlach. Lae'zel never responds to begin with and you know for a fact the Githyanki's response will likely come in the form of her simply showing up one of these days, unprompted. Jaheira personally and rather frequently visits as well, she becomes a sort of bastion as nerves take you over, confident and calm as she is. Halsin's "letter" arrives late, rather because alongside his letter is several little carved animals for the child's room, and mentions of a quilt he intends to bring along when next he visits. Shadowheart's letter, while congratulatory, contains an air of interrogation strung all about it, all aimed with pinpoint precision at the man responsible for your pregnancy and dripping with sarcasm.

Gale's letter is seven pages long, comes with a violet hued wax stamp, and multiple different inks in the most lavish hand he can manage. You daresay he's competing with Astarion. However, surprisingly, Gale's seems to be the most... helpful of them all? It wasn't your intent, you simply wanted your dear friend to join you in celebration, and yet Gale goes on to inform you that upon reading the letter he'd become a madman in pursuit of knowledge on pregnancy and giving birth. He admits that this wasn't a particularly fruitful endeavor, as he's rather confident that you're not a gnoll, troll, cambion, succubus, or any other variety of strange creature with strange metrics of procreation. Still, Gale directs the latter portion of his letter to Astarion quite pointedly, informing him of bookshops around Baldur's Gate where he might have more success.

Astarion scoffs, but you don't miss the way his fingers twitch and flex.

After the hilarity of this is resolved and you just begin to believe that peace might return to your soft little home in the city, the first of your companions begin to arrive.

This continues on for the next week or so, without you ever knowing that this had been planned- and without knowing that Astarion had been the one to plan it. It's a furthering of his apology, of his guilt over the way he'd treated you. Again, Astarion has no illusions of the kind of man he is, and the fact he's not nurturing in the sort of ways that you need- but he's not completely stupid and he knows you're scared. So... bring the cavalry, darling.

Eventually your entire home has become a crash pad for all of your dearest friends, your family, and you only grow suspicious of Astarion's hand in this chaos because he's surprisingly amicable to having his peace so thoroughly disturbed by 'everyone and their mother'. Truly, he manages to bite his tongue some of the time about them trampling his fine rugs and scratching the plates. He even seems... wistful about it. As nostalgic as you openly are at seeing all of these beloved people under one roof again.

Nights are filled with raucous laughter, clattering utensils, a table so thoroughly overcrowded that people are playfully shouldering each other out of the way for a chance to get at their own food. And Astarion stays faithful at your side, his hand perpetually clasped gently around yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles. Days are never spent alone, no matter what it is you need to do, someone (if not everyone) is following you along. And though Astarion feels his heart ache that he can't join you, he'll be glad to know you're safe.

Besides, your companions are likely all taking turns tormenting, testing, and relentlessly teasing him about what is to come. He has his own hands full. He's starting to regret being such a generous lover.

And then your water breaks in the dead of night.

Remember how I said Astarion was far from perfect? This would be one of those moments that it really shines.

Not that he's particularly terrible, no. He's not actively cruel toward you, and certainly not dismissive, it's somewhat the opposite. Halsin and Jaheira end up the ones helping you, the only two with some iota of understanding on what was happening and what to do with and for you. The others, less experienced in "mundane" medical situations will take up the second most important role.

Prevent Astarion from catastrophizing any more than he already has been.

Karlach has been the sole force capable of keeping Astarion away from the wine, typically bear hugging him away from your cellar while Wyll tries his best to talk your lover down from a total nervous breakdown. Of which he nearly has, several times. It's not even the sight of you, specifically. He's okay with being at your side and holding your hand, in trying his best to provide comforting words that aren't laced with sarcasm for once. But the sounds you make, that's what breaks him. Astarion isn't good at hearing you scream from the pain, he isn't good at the choked sobs or your heavy breaths. The way you sound like you're struggling against death. It makes him want to crawl out of his own skin, fight assailants that aren't there.

And for a few hours there, in the midst of your labors and your exhausted, pained little cries, Astarion isn't sure how he can love the child causing you this much suffering. It's not as if Astarion was an altruistic man on his best days, as if he were particularly reasonable when it came to you. You've both come to a mutual understanding that were something to happen to you, no morals would be involved in the things Astarion would do to rectify it.

And now, here you are, suffering. Astarion isn't supposed to do a thing about it? He's supposed to be- what, overjoyed by it? It infuriates him, he's truly prepared to have a grudge match with an infant.

Until, as the sun is starting to creep up on a brand new day, it's no longer your screams that meet the air, but another's entirely. Tiny but powerful, high pitched little squeals of fury and distress. And your laughter, disbelieving, soft, adoring already.

Astarion has a daughter.

I go with the HC that Astarion had eyes like honey once, and that his daughter takes after that, along with the delicate points of his ears mirrored in her own. She's small, so small, but healthy and already feisty, wiggling as best as her tiny body can whilst still too heavy for her to lift and move.

You're the first to hold her of course, and Astarion will be at his knees beside the two of you. The expression he wears is something you've seen maybe two or three other times in the entire time you've known him- moments when you know he expected everything to fall apart, moments where he couldn't believe that the world was so good.

It's then that you can breathe for the first time, and know that both of your darlings will be just fine.

Once he does hold her, he's not inclined to let her go. Even once you ask to have her back, he'll simply move you into his lap, so that he can hold you both. It's better that way anyhow, having both of his girls in his arms. And Astarion will repeat again and again how stunned he is, he just can't believe it. Cannot fathom any of it. I think he's the type to say that he's speechless and then spend the next five minutes doing nothing but talking. It's nervous rambling, but still, speechless is not the term I would use to describe him here.

Astarion With Your Baby:

Once your little darling is actually in your lives, you get to see how hilariously unorthodox Astarion is with children. Especially his own. Astarion doesn't baby-talk like you or the rest of your companions, he speaks in the same exact tones as he would a grown woman. In fact, for the first few days you're adjusting to a child in your life, you sometimes mistake Astarion as speaking with an unexpected guest, only to round the corner and find him lightheartedly chastising his own daughter for her poor nappy conduct as he wrinkles his nose and changes her diaper.

He's disgusted by that, by the way. Absolutely hates it, complains loudly about having to do it. But if you so much as try to stand to help he'll force you back down onto your chair or the couch, something something not useless something something already up, darling. It's as if Astarion is simply allergic to admitting that while it makes him nauseous, he wants to care for his daughter. He wants you to rest.

And yes, Astarion is the type of father that thinks all other children are hideous little fecal beasts and his daughter is the only gorgeous little angel in the entire world. Perfect, can do no wrong. He tells her as such too, in the same deadpan voice he always uses, wiggling and stretching her legs.

"You know, darling. You should count your blessings, you're the only child I've ever seen that doesn't look like some sort of hideous, deformed bean. I can't be surprised though, with as gorgeous as your parents are." And though he rolls his eyes, he's unable to contain the grin that shows his teeth when she coos and squeaks at the sound of his voice.

And yes. Astarion dresses up with his child.

The older she gets the more he does it, little matching outfits and ribbons. Nothing that she would choke on, were she to get her mitts on it. (You had to be the one to tell him no, at first. He did throw a little fit about it, just a small one).

But it's not all lighthearted, good or bad.

There are times where Astarion won't touch your daughter, won't be alone with her in the same room. He fears it, he'll eventually tell you. His... affliction came with it's dangers, always. But he's always trusted that you could defend yourself, and you're big enough that he can't just kill you between one blink and the next. The same can't be said of your darling girl. She's so small and so fragile that, were he to lose even the slightest grip of himself around her, it could cost her her life. No doubt it would traumatize her for life, regardless.

You watch it, too. The way it pinches his brows and makes him wipe his palms against his pants as if he were sweating. Nervous habits creeping up his throat and causing him to pace about like a caged animal. It's during these times that you have to bring your daughter to him. Gently place her in his arms and remind him that he's loved her from the moment he saw her. And where once he held trepidation and queasiness at the prospect of fatherhood, you can see him care so much about this little bundle that he looks sick from it. A vulnerability he can't mask.

And of course, there are times he nearly weeps for other reasons.

Like when she takes her first steps, and immediately tries to run for him.

And Astarion knows he should let her tumble, that it's good to let her fall and get back up again, but the moment her unsteady feet cause her to careen she's safe in his arms. Little kisses peppered against her giggly face. And he'll tuck away against her to try and get his bearings back, but she'll pat his cheeks and tug his ears- and you'll have to distract her with a toy while he hiccups and sniffles down his need to cry. He wasn't ready for her to grow so fast, gone is the tiny bundle that could fit perfectly in one arm, now she's walking. How long before she's dating? Gods, should he be preparing for betrothal requests!?

"I want to be mortal." He whispers to you, one night. She's tucked between your bodies, sound asleep and wiggling from time to time. This is one of the rare moments you and your love can speak to each other uninterrupted, in the tranquility of the dark hugging around you.

It's strange that he brings this up now, you'd spoken about it several times since the Elder Brain had been taken down... But in the past few years since your daughter had been born, all of that had fallen to the wayside. "What brings this to mind, Starling?"

Your hand comes to cup his throat, as you watch and feel him work as if he were swallowing a stone. "I don't want to outlive this."

It's hard to blink the tears from your eyes, understanding the implications.

Were he actually two hundred years old, Astarion wouldn't survive well past the existence of his sweet little family.

He'd been more melancholy the past few weeks, after realizing that your daughter was beginning to function on her own. She was walking, grabbing things, talking in rudimentary sentences. She was even beginning to call him pa.

He'd cried, at that.

"I'll forget," his voice draws you out from that brief reverie. The distress is palpable, but runs low like the tide before a storm. "I'll forget all of this. I don't want to know what I'll become, then."

And when you run your hands up into his hair, to scratch lovingly along his scalp, he doesn't hide the shiver or the way his face presses against your palm, cold and smooth on your skin.

"We'll find a way, Astarion. I haven't given up yet... We just- she's too young."

It's both a strain and a relief, to know that. To be reminded that your daughter is still so small, that he won't be losing her- or you- any time soon. There's still time.

Astarion With Your Teen:

Arguably this is the best time between your daughter and him. It's simultaneously a surprise and yet- not at all? He's more like her confidante and best friend than strictly a father. He isn't one for harsh curfews and strict ways of dress- rather, he's the one she comes to when she's made some sort of mistake. Or when she's angry about something.

In general, Astarion withholds judgement of her, for better or worse. The unintended consequence is that you might become more of her enemy than Astarion, because he's less inclined to punish for questionable behaviors.

It's not that he's afraid of angering her or dealing with push back- rather that Astarion's frame of reference for what constitutes a mistake is ah... rather broken. Even in the beginnings of your relationship with Astarion, the mistakes that would anger him constituted dropping an entire building on his head or... risking being turned into a Mindflayer to help some old lady find her cat.

Not feeling up cute boys in alleyways.

As a result you'll likely need to have a few conversations with him about not being so lenient on her, because she needs to have structure in how to behave. Stealing things is in fact, not okay! And Astarion will listen, but he's always going to be a bit more of a friend than anything else.

A total gossip with her, too. You'll catch them huddled around the dinner table at night, both with a glass of wine (this was an argument that Astarion ended up winning, she's allowed one glass a week, but that's all!) in hand shittalking a storm together. Astarion has become the Baldur's Gate equivalent of a PTA mom, he shows up as stylishly as he can and beefs with the parents of whichever children have upset his daughter the most. And then when they get home they just toss it back and forth together.

But I want to stress, just because he doesn't punish her doesn't mean he isn't protective of her. Astarion is more protective than you are.

Once she begins dating you'll find yourself home alone semi-frequently, because Astarion will play the supportive, loving father part when she leaves- and immediately follow her out into the dark. He's had centuries to know what dangers lurk around every corner, and foggy memories of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time before his nightmare began. He won't allow that to happen with his girl.

And it's funny, because Astarion will talk mad shit to himself while he does it. Logically he knows that she's with some teenage boy or girl, but it doesn't stop the petty, emotional side of him from rolling his eyes and sneering at the cheap one-liners and the dumb tactics that this would-be charmer utilizes. Really, taking her into dark alleys to get her to tuck into you? Going to a totally secret spot that Astarion has known about for at least a hundred and sixty years? Get real, kid.

And you have to try valiantly not to laugh when he comes home, huffing and puffing about it. Because you will hear every single petty thought he had the entire time, and you will know that he looks like a petulant child. It's very cute.

All in all, I think Astarion is a reckless, chaotic, petty father. And one that loves his child so, so much. To the point of ruin, to the point where suddenly staying in one place doesn't seem so bad, just so she can have friends. Helping people isn't the worst, just so she can know there are heroes in the world. Suddenly he's learning to bandage scrapes and kiss bruises, and having tears and snot on his clothes mean nothing compared to the grief of the one shedding them. He loves her in ways he didn't anticipate he ever could. Enough to know all of her ticks and secrets, to know when she's lying through her teeth and when she's being devastatingly obvious.

Learning to cook even when he can't eat, listening to her spin a story with a straight face and then- as she's stepping out the door- telling her to be careful with that boy and listening to her groan loudly as the door slams shut, a mischievous smile on his face.

Holding you and dancing you around, cradling you close with all the tenderness he has in the whole of his body and soul. Kissing you, calling you the mother of his child, thanking you for giving him something he didn't even know he'd wanted. A family.

Small and odd, but his.

#astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin x tav #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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Wicked Games 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A week passes in a tense slog. Barrett continues his pandering penance and you wallow in irritation. You want to put it behind you. You want to get past it but every time you do, it just happens again.

If this was the first time, it would be easy but you’ve lost count of all the times you’ve had this fight.

Your menial office work does little to distract. It only allows you to think about all the bullshit. The way Barrett dismisses everything you do and has to list of everything you don’t. The way he can’t see his own flaws or how you’ve never once rubbed his nose in them like a dog.

Is it passive or weak or just acceptance? You can’t say. You just always put up with it. It’s just easier not to make an issue of every little thing. Problem is, now it’s a big thing.

When you come home, you’re worn out but you still have work to do. Dishes, tidying, cooking. Even your weekends don’t allow you must rest. You need to sort through the bills and go get groceries. All along the way, he’s in the way. You’re not sure he’s trying to help, more so trying to force his way to forgiveness.

You grab a bundle of reusable shopping bags from the cupboard overflowing with them. It only took about a hundred of the things to start remembering to take them with you.

As you shut the cupboard, Barrett’s on the other side of the oven. Watching and waiting. He’d be a lot more help if you didn’t have to tell him what to do. You forgot a mug and to him, that’s high crime, but he can’t remember to pay the power bill without six texts on the due date.

“So... what’s going on today?” He smiles.

It used to be that that smile made you melt. It would make all your troubles flutter away like butterflies. Now it’s just another irk.

“Groceries.” You wave the fistful of bags.

“Oh, cool, want me to come?”

You nearly scoff. Every weekend you ask and every weekend he’s too busy. His pals want him to jam in their garage band or go fishing down at some dirty river. Another tick on the wrong side of the Pros-Cons list.

“Sure,” you shrug. It’s easier to just let him come along. You don’t need another argument and you could use the extra hands.

You shove the bags into the folded shopping cart and put your shoes on. He toddles behind like a lost child. You’re repress a glare as you grab your keys and purse. You’re going to have to talk this out sooner than later our you’re really going to hate him.

He follows you out to the bus stop and you wait in silence. You had a car but it broke down last year. Ever since, he gets a ride off his coworkers or friends and you flash your bus pass. It’s cheaper than leasing a car, even a used one.

You don’t know what stresses you out more; thinking about all the stuff he does or just thinking about your life. You get on the bus and sit near the back. He reaches over to grab your hand. You wince but don’t pull away.

“Nice day,” he says.

“Mhmm,” you grumble.

His attempt at small talk doesn’t go much further. You get off at your stop and walk the block to the grocery store. You unfold your shopping cart and pull out your list. Barrett grabs a bag of gummy bears and dumps them in the cart.

“Those aren’t on the list,” you say.

“I know but it’ll be a nice treat for later. We’ll have some tonight after dinner.”

“Oh, alright.”

You factor in the extra cost and mentally cross off the avocado from the list. You can go without. You roll through the produce section and work your way down the list. Barrett trails behind you.

You stop in the cereal aisle to grab a bag of oatmeal. As you stand, you flinch and cry out at a surprise peck on your cheek. Barrett puts his arm around your shoulder as he presses his lips against you.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Baby, giving you a kiss.” You look at him and he grins, “I miss you. I love you. I’m tryna be better, honey.”

“In the grocery store?” You challenge.

“It’s cute.”

“Mm, it’s... let’s wait ‘til we get outta here. It’s starting to get busy.” You glance around at the other customers, hoping none of them noticed his little act. “How about you go grab some drumsticks? Flyer says they’re on sale.”

“Oh, I can do that. Be right back!” He proclaims.

He shuffles off and you shake your head and turn back to the shelves. The store brand on discount is all out. You hiss in disappointment. You search the rest of the selection. That’s the cheapest on the shelf and you really can’t stretch the extra dollar.

You look up at the overstock along the top. It’s right up there but you’re just too short to reach. You give a poor attempt then stand flat on your feet. You peer up and down the aisle. You could find an employee.

“Need some help?”

You turn to face the stranger and give a start. They aren’t so strange after all. You know him. Well, not know-know him. Everyone in the city knows Steve Rogers, the Captain America.

“Uhhh...”

“What’s your brand?” He asks. “They don’t run restock until before closing. I usually come then, less busy but I got... ha, sorry, I’m rambling. What can I grab for you?”

You lick your dry lips and glance at the shelf. You appreciate the help but telling Captain America that you need the cheapest bag on the shelf isn’t exactly dignified. You point to the price tag on the shelf and he reaches on his toes to grab the edge of the box on the top. He wiggles out a bag and stands flat.

“Here,” he offers it with a handsome smile. “You know, it’s made at the same factory as the regular brand.” He taps the back of the bag, “exact same address. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re from the same lot.”

“Oh, well, er... thanks,” you take the oats and put them in your cart.

“No problem. Sometimes being a hero isn’t very glorious. Sometimes it’s just reaching the top shelf.”

You force a chuckle. You’re sure the Cap’s life is all sunshine and rainbows. Must be a real ego boost to help the little people.

“Well, I appreciate it, Captain.”

“Steve,” he smirks and stares. Your lower your brows and look behind you. Is he looking at someone else?

“Oh, of course. I should go find my husband.” You roll around him and try to shake off the awkward encounter. You look down at your list as you stop at the end of the aisle.

“Hope he’s not lost...” Steve calls after you. He says your name and you crane to look at him. You meet his gaze and blanch. He turns and struts off without another word.

You turn back to your path and slowly leave the aisle. How did he know your name? You replay the interaction and try to recall giving it but you can’t. Well, you’re not exactly thinking straight right now. It’s nothing. You’re just stressed.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #drabble #wicked games #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america

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inkbybambi · 1 year ago

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best friend!simon riley picking you up from a bad date —

words: 2.2k rating: nothing explicit apart from a brief mention of sex, just some light angst and comfort. my blog is 18+ so minors please dni. warning: hurt/comfort, fluff, pet names, insecurity/doubt/worry, mentions of sex, simon is the softie we all know he is notes: originally written for @ghosts-cyphera ♡ we all need a bestfriend!simon in our lives who's so sweet and gentle with us.

One thing you love about Simon — besides everything — is how reliable he is. Strong, steadfast, there when you need him. Even when he’s not physically there — his work taking him away for weeks or even months at a time — you find yourself reading over the messages he’s sent, the little sticky notes he’s left, whatever memento you’ve kept of him tucked away in the drawer in your bedside table.

Not that you’ll tell him that.

You hate asking him for favors — asking anyone for favors, really, but him especially. Whenever you ask someone for help, it's always accompanied by a long-suffering sigh or a roll of the eyes or some very clear indication that they'd rather do anything else.

Except for Simon.

Which is why you're hesitant to ask him more than you absolutely need to. You don't want to push your luck too far, less he eventually tires of you as well.

Losing people hurts, always assuming it's you that caused the problem. You've come to accept this, even if the dark feelings of being too much or a burden claw at the edges of your mind.

But losing Simon? You don't think you'd ever get over that.

It's just after 9pm, the sky dark and clouds threatening, with thunder rumbling steadily in the sky. Your hand shakes as you fumble your phone from your pocket, trying to hold tears at bay as you scroll through your contacts.

Your call log is all Simon.

Some appointments here and there, but Simon everywhere else.

Fuck.

You hiccup, the tears spilling from your eyes as the sky finally opens up, joining you in your mourning.

You don't have any other choice, really, so you click his number before you can talk yourself out of it and walk home instead, bringing it up to your ear as it rings.

He answers before the third ring.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," you sniffle into the phone, before he has a chance to say anything. You take in a sharp breath, blood turning to ice. "Am i bothering you?" you sound so meek and small and tired. “No, dove, you’re not,” comes his calm, reassuring voice. You’re only half-convinced.

"I'm sorry," you begin again. Your heart falls to your stomach, convincing yourself that this is his final straw. You're overtaken by a wave of nausea, despite not having eaten anything since lunch. "I didn't know who else to call, and I lost my tram pass, and I don't have an umbrella, and — "

“Dove,” he says, his accent soothing to your ears — he's so endlessly patient and kind. You ache.

"I can just walk home, I-I'm sorry," you whimper out, unable to stop the tears blurring your vision, feeling pathetic and weak and so, so alone. “Darling,” he says, a little stern. Not angry, never angry. Trying to focus you. “What’s wrong?”

“U-um, my date stood me up,” you sniff, swallowing hard. "I waited an hour," you mumble, looking to your shoes. "Messaged him too, y'know. He just. Didn't show."

You think you hear Simon curse over the line and your heart lurches, feeling like you're about to be sick. “Where are you?”

There's a rustle of fabric, the clink of keys, the heel of his boot walking across his floor. You manage to tell him the name of the restaurant, voice cracking. “Twenty minutes,” he says, and you’re about to protest but he beats you to it. “Sit there and be good and patient and I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

"Okay," you whisper in agreement, before the line clicks dead and you allow yourself to cry, huddling under the awning as some protection from the rain, now coming down in thick, sharp waves.

Thirteen minutes later, the headlights of his truck shine through the dark, pulling up to the curb. You make a mad dash for the passenger door, still getting drenched in the process.

You can't even look at him, hands shaking as you buckle the belt, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

He says your name gently. You take in a shuddering breath and let it out just as shaky, looking over towards him. He's wearing his balaclava, but his eyes — even in the dark, you can make out his beautiful eyes. Assessing you, worrying.

"I'm sorry," you croak out. You can't help it. It's burned into your tongue, driven into your mind to make him understand you didn't want to bother him. He doesn't have to forgive you, but as long as he knows, that's enough.

"Love," he says, and there's... something in his voice, as he reaches over for your hand, holding it gently in his own. His eyes never leave yours. "'m never gonna be mad about you askin' for help." Your eyes flit away, but he squeezes your hand and you reluctantly look back. "You know me better than that," he says, as if he can read the treacherous thoughts swirling in your head, drowning you and making it hard to breathe.

You can only nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. He hums, bringing the back of your hand up to graze his covered lips over the back, pulling out to drive you back.

"This is your flat," you say, fifteen minutes later as he shuts the car off. You were too busy looking at the window, watching the rain drops race down the glass, to notice that he wasn't driving the familiar route to your place.

"Yes," he replies, as if it's obvious he'd bring you here. "You really think I'd let you stay home alone?"

His eyes are so fucking bright. It startles you, and you hate how your heart twists and thumps at how intently he's looking.

"I..." you start, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. His eyes flicker to your lips, snapping away just as quick. "I was gonna eat ice cream and drink shitty, cheap wine," you say.

"As if I don't have either of those things here," he replies, opening the door and effectively ending the conversation. You scramble after him, eager to be inside in the warmth and burrow yourself into his couch.

"Go get changed," he says, voice clear as he removes the balaclava and bends to untie his shoes.

You hesitate for a second, until he looks up to you and there's that something lingering in his gaze — the same something that was in his voice.

"Go on now," he repeats, softer, and you ditch your shoes and your uncomfortably wet jacket by his.

His flat is as familiar as your own — you could walk through it blindfolded at night and you wouldn't knock into a single thing.

Well.

You might knock into a corner or two, but that's not a vision thing. It's a you're a bit clumsy thing. Simon finds it endlessly amusing, poking at the bruises that blossom on your skin while you bat his hand away.

His bedroom is familiar as well. Which is why you don't think twice before you're shimmying out of your clothes — undergarments as well — and rifling through his drawers, finding your favorite shirt of his and a pair of his boxers.

You take a moment to smell the collar, taking comfort in the scent that lingers. You’ve been dressed in his clothes many times before this but it feels different this time.

As you pad back out to the living room, Simon’s already on the couch. Your favorite blanket is draped across his lap, two bowls of ice cream and a bottle of cheap wine sitting open, glasses filled far more than you would’ve. You’ll indulge him, mostly because you have the sneaking suspicion that he’ll have you sleep here anyways.

His balaclava is off. The last dregs of tension drain from you as he looks over to you, face soft in the lowlight of the lamp, tv ready with a show you’ve watched a thousand times that he watches with you without complaint.

“Knew you’d choose that one,” he says with a bit of a smirk as you crawl on the couch, burrowing yourself into his side, his arm slinging across the back of the cushion.

“Am I that predictable?” you mumble, a small thank you as he hands you a bowl.

He doesn’t answer, but you feel the burn of his stare before he snorts, flicking the tv to start playing, the familiar theme relaxing you further.

The silence with him is comfortable, lingering in a hazy in-between of awake and sleep, empty bowls and mostly empty glasses sitting on the coffee table.

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asks, three episodes in, bottle empty.

You blink, not sure if you heard him properly as you pull back to look at him. You can’t read his eyes. Something hot twists in your gut.

“I-I don’t know, Simon,” you start, the weight of his stare heavy. “Maybe?”

He doesn’t say anything and you chew your lip for a moment, fingers curling to play with the blanket. “Depends how the date went, I suppose. Doesn’t matter much now,” you snort. His gaze hasn’t changed. “Why?”

His jaw clicks, taking a deep breath. “You deserve better ‘n that.”

A confused frown pulls at your mouth, unsure how to reply. “I know how to be safe,” you tell him, voice soft.

He seems to be weighing his words in his head, lowering the volume of the show. You feel sick.

Dark eyes rove over your face, taking in every minute detail. You bite at your nail, just for something to do.

“Don’t think there’s a bloke in the world that’s worthy of ya.”

Your frown deepens, breaking your eyes from his, twisting your fingers in your lap. Relationships aren’t easy. Being that vulnerable with someone isn’t easy.

You never want someone to pay for you, and even the smallest gestures like opening the car door or pulling out your chair feel like it’s too much. You don’t deserve that kind of attention. After a while, they’ll get tired. You’ll become a burden to them like everything else in your life.

It’s easier to be by yourself. The only person you have to worry about bothering is you.

“Love.” He tilts his head, eyes trying to catch yours. How hasn’t he gotten tired of you yet?

A hand under your chin forces your gaze up, and you try to shrink yourself against the back of the couch. Your voice catches in your throat, words stuck there.

“What’s goin’ on in tha’ pretty head f’yours?”

You swallow thickly, finding it damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his.

“‘s not like it matters,” you start. his brows furrow, but he stays silent. “No one would want me anyways.”

“‘n why would you say that?”

Frustration burns the back of your throat. Isn’t it obvious? You can barely call him in a dire situation without thinking the worst of yourself. How can he think of you as anything but a nuisance? How could he think anyone else would put up with it?

“You wouldn’t understand,” you say, defeated. You crumble back into the couch.

“Make me understand.”

Heat flashes at the nape of your neck. He takes your hands in his, cradling them in his warmth. Your name sounds so soft in his voice.

“How aren’t you tired of me?” comes your whispered question, nose tingling and eyes threatening to water. You look at him. Hesitant. Scared.

The silence is loud. His own frown deepens. It takes a few painful minutes, but you see the moment something clicks in place.

“You know I’d do anything for you, yeah?”

Your lip quivers, sniffling as you beg yourself not to cry.

“Because you do the same for me,” he continues. You doubt it, mind going blank of every time he’s come to you for something.

His touch moves to your elbow, tugging you forward gently until he can arrange you in his lap. He slips his hands beneath the hem of his shirt, thumbs rubbing on your hips just above the waistband of his boxers.

You slowly brace your hands on his shoulders. Firm and broad and safe.

“You apologize so much. You worry so much.” the tears slip down your cheeks, throat aching, but now you can’t look away from him. One hand moves to cup the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently at the skin behind your ear.

“You’re allowed to ask for help.”

You shake your head, a no caught in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“Oh, love.” He cradles you into the curve of his neck, arm wrapping around your waist and keeping a gentle hold at the base of your skull. “You have me wrapped around your finger ‘n you don’t even know it.”

He lets you cry into his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt. His cologne is soothing and you eventually slump against him. You’re so tired.

His lips graze your temple, his soft touch lulling you to sleep. You’ll talk about it tomorrow, but for now you want to stay wrapped up in his arms, held by someone who genuinely loves you.

#ink by bambi #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley/reader #simon riley/you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley hurt/comfort #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #modern warfare imagine

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novaursa · 3 months ago

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Firebound

- Summary: King Viserys I reconsiders whom to give your hand in marriage.

- Paring: targ!reader/Harwin Strong

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is twin sister of Rhaenyra, is bonded to a dragon and has striking resemblance to her grandmother, Alyssa. These events happen right after Chasing the Inferno. To read all chapters in chronological order, or more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 5 335

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The small council chambers, typically a place of solemn decisions and whispered intrigues, now felt unusually silent as the last of the lords took their leave. King Viserys I Targaryen, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat on the polished wood of the table, watched them go with only half an eye. His thoughts were elsewhere, tangled in a knot of confusion and reluctant acceptance.

As the heavy wooden doors closed behind the departing council members, only two figures remained in the room. The first, of course, was the king himself, his brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair. The second was Lord Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King, who was decidedly less relaxed. Lyonel's usual calm and thoughtful demeanor had slipped into something less certain. His hands clasped together tightly on the table before him, and his eyes shifted occasionally to the king, searching for a clue to the nature of this unexpected private audience.

Viserys let the silence stretch, giving him time to gather his thoughts. He knew he had to approach this conversation delicately, but the memory of what he had witnessed at Rhaenyra’s and Laenor’s wedding feast still played vividly in his mind. There had been laughter and merriment, to be sure, but his focus had been split. He had watched with the intent of a father seeking assurance for one daughter, only to find himself worried over another.

The way you and Harwin had slipped from the feast, the looks exchanged between the two of you, had been impossible to ignore. Viserys had spent too much of his attention on Rhaenyra, and now it seemed that you, his other daughter, posed a similar predicament. It was a problem he had not foreseen, though he supposed he should have. After all, you were Targaryen through and through, with the fire in your blood as surely as your twin sister. But fire, as Viserys well knew, was a tricky thing to control.

He sighed, finally breaking the silence. "Lord Lyonel," he began, his tone far softer than it usually was in these chambers, "I find myself in need of counsel of a rather... delicate nature."

Lyonel’s eyes narrowed slightly, though he gave a courteous nod. "I am at your service, Your Grace, as always."

Viserys allowed himself a faint smile at the Hand’s careful response. "You are a wise man, Lyonel. A man of honor, integrity... and, I hope, discretion."

"Discretion is often the better part of honor, Your Grace," Lyonel replied, though his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness. It was not often the king prefaced a conversation in such a way.

Viserys straightened in his chair, his gaze fixing firmly on Lyonel’s face. "Tell me, Lyonel... what is your opinion of my daughter? Y/N, that is."

There it was, the question that had been eating away at him. He saw the flicker of surprise in Lyonel’s eyes, quickly masked, but not quickly enough. It confirmed what he already suspected: Lyonel knew something.

"Princess Y/N is..." Lyonel hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "She is a lady of great spirit, much like her sister. She carries herself with the grace and strength one would expect of a Targaryen. She is... much admired."

"Admired," Viserys echoed, his voice carrying a subtle note of amusement. "Yes, I have seen as much."

Lyonel shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable under the king’s scrutiny. "Your Grace, if I may ask... what troubles you about the princess?"

Viserys considered his next words carefully. He could not afford to be blunt, not when the matter at hand was so precarious. But subtlety had never been his strong suit, and the memory of that stolen glance between you and Harwin gnawed at him.

"Lyonel, your son..." Viserys began, and immediately saw the flash of recognition in Lyonel’s eyes. "He is a good man. Strong, loyal, capable. A man who has served the crown well."

"Harwin is a good man," Lyonel agreed, though the tension in his voice was palpable now. "He is... devoted to his duties."

"Devoted, yes." Viserys leaned forward, lowering his voice. "And devoted, it seems, to my daughter."

Lyonel’s eyes widened slightly, but he did not speak. Viserys watched him, watched as the Hand’s thoughts churned behind his eyes, undoubtedly recalling every conversation he’d had with his son about this very matter. Lyonel had likely hoped this day would never come, but Viserys was not a man to ignore the truth when it was placed before him so plainly.

"Your Grace..." Lyonel began, his voice heavy with apprehension, "I assure you, whatever my son has done, it was never his intention to... to dishonor the princess."

Viserys held up a hand to stop him. "There is no dishonor in love, Lyonel. Not if it is true."

Lyonel blinked, clearly caught off guard. He had likely expected anger, outrage even, but Viserys had already fought that battle within himself. What remained now was a father’s desire to see his daughter happy—and safe.

"Your Grace..." Lyonel started again, more cautiously this time, "are you suggesting...?"

"I am," Viserys interrupted, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You once mentioned a potential match between Harwin and Y/N. At the time, I dismissed it. My mind was too focused on securing alliances, on ensuring the strength of the crown. But now... now I see the wisdom in what you proposed."

Lyonel stared at the king, clearly dumbfounded. It took him a moment to gather his wits. "Your Grace, are you certain? A match between Harwin and the princess... it is not what most would expect."

"Perhaps not," Viserys admitted with a soft chuckle. "But it is what I believe would be best. Harwin, if what you say is true, cares for her. And I have granted Rhaenyra the courtesy of choosing her own match... it would be unfair to deny Y/N the same."

Lyonel remained silent, his expression a mixture of shock and something close to relief. The king’s decision was a blessing he had not anticipated, a chance to save both his son and the princess from scandal and perhaps, just perhaps, to see them happy.

"Harwin will be... most honored, Your Grace," Lyonel finally managed, bowing his head deeply. "I did not expect... that is, I am surprised by your generosity."

"Generosity," Viserys mused, leaning back in his chair once more. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I am simply weary of the politics, of the endless games. My daughter’s happiness... it means more to me than any alliance."

Lyonel nodded, though he still seemed somewhat dazed by the turn of events. "I shall inform Harwin of your decision, Your Grace. I know it will bring him great joy."

"See that you do," Viserys said, his voice carrying a note of finality. "And Lyonel, if Harwin wishes to speak with me... to assure me of his intentions... he is welcome to do so."

"Of course, Your Grace," Lyonel replied, rising from his seat with a deep bow. "I shall see to it at once."

As Lyonel turned to leave, Viserys allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. The matter was settled, and while he knew that the path ahead would not be without its challenges, he felt a sense of peace. He had done right by his daughter—both of them, in fact.

As the door closed behind Lyonel, Viserys leaned back in his chair, his thoughts drifting to the future. There would be more battles to fight, more decisions to make, but for now, he could rest easy knowing that he had given his daughter a chance at happiness.

And perhaps, in the end, that was all a father could truly hope for.

Lyonel Strong left the small council chambers with a brisk pace, though the thoughts swirling in his head made his steps feel almost unsteady. The king’s words echoed in his ears, and the disbelief that had settled in his gut still gnawed at him. It was one thing to hope for an impossible outcome, quite another to have it handed to you by the king himself.

He moved through the Red Keep with purpose, nodding absently to those he passed, though his mind was entirely elsewhere. His destination was clear—he needed to find his son. Harwin had always been a steady rock, reliable and strong, but this... this news was bound to shake even him.

As Lyonel reached the courtyard, where Harwin often trained, the sound of steel clashing on steel rang out. Harwin was sparring with a few other men, his muscular form moving with the practiced ease of someone who had spent a lifetime wielding a sword. Lyonel paused for a moment, watching his son parry and strike with a fierce focus that made him proud, even now. But there was no time for fatherly admiration—this was a conversation that needed to happen immediately.

“Harwin,” Lyonel called out, his voice carrying across the courtyard.

Harwin disengaged from his sparring partner, wiping the sweat from his brow as he turned to see his father striding towards him. He handed his sword to one of the onlookers and moved to meet Lyonel, a curious smile on his face.

“Father,” Harwin greeted him, still catching his breath. “You seem... troubled.”

“Troubled?” Lyonel shook his head, though there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips now. “No, Harwin. Troubled is not the word. I’ve just come from the king.”

At this, Harwin’s expression shifted to one of concern. “The king? Is something amiss?”

Lyonel sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Not in the way you think. But it concerns you, and the princess.”

Harwin stiffened slightly, a wariness creeping into his eyes. “What about the princess?”

Lyonel took a deep breath, knowing that his son was not going to believe what he was about to say. “The king has decided to grant you a boon, Harwin. He has agreed... to a marriage between you and Princess Y/N.”

There was a moment of silence as Harwin stared at his father, blinking as if he hadn’t quite heard correctly. “A marriage? To Y/N? Father, that’s... that’s not something to jest about.”

“I am not jesting,” Lyonel replied, his tone serious, though there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes. “The king himself proposed it. It seems he noticed more at Rhaenyra’s wedding than we thought. The match is to be made.”

Harwin continued to stare, clearly processing the information. “You’re serious,” he finally said, though it sounded more like a question.

“As serious as the Iron Throne,” Lyonel affirmed, his voice taking on a more reassuring tone. “The king believes it to be the best course, and he has given his blessing. He’s even suggested that you speak with him, to ensure your intentions are true.”

Harwin let out a short laugh, though it was more of disbelief than amusement. “My intentions... true? I’ve been trying to hide my intentions for years, Father! I’ve done everything I could to ensure that the princess’s honor remained intact. And now, the king wants me to confess it all?”

Lyonel smiled, though there was a note of sympathy in his expression. “It seems the king is more perceptive than we gave him credit for. He’s seen the way you look at her, Harwin. And, it seems, he’s not entirely displeased.”

Harwin shook his head, running a hand through his damp hair. “This is... this is madness. I never thought...” He trailed off, clearly overwhelmed by the turn of events.

“Madness, perhaps,” Lyonel agreed, “but it’s the king’s will. And I would think you’d be pleased, Harwin. I know you care for her—perhaps more than you’ve admitted, even to yourself.”

Harwin looked at his father, the disbelief slowly giving way to something warmer, something more hopeful. “You’re certain of this? That the king truly means it?”

Lyonel nodded. “As certain as I can be, Harwin. The king is offering you his daughter’s hand. He’s offering you a future with the woman you love. I’d say that’s a rare gift.”

Harwin let out a long breath, his thoughts spinning as he tried to grasp the reality of it. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lyonel replied, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “But you will need to speak to the king. He’s invited you to do so, and I’d suggest you take him up on that offer. This is not something to delay.”

Harwin nodded, though there was still a hint of that disbelief in his eyes. “I will speak with him. But, Father... this feels like a dream. One that could vanish if I’m not careful.”

“Then be careful,” Lyonel said with a chuckle. “But don’t be afraid to take what is offered to you. This is the chance you’ve been waiting for, Harwin. And if you don’t seize it, I can assure you, the king won’t wait long to change his mind.”

Harwin nodded again, this time with more resolve. “I’ll speak with him. And... thank you, Father. For whatever part you played in this.”

Lyonel smiled, squeezing Harwin’s shoulder. “I only spoke the truth. The rest was in the hands of the gods—and the king.”

Harwin managed a smile of his own, though it was tinged with nervous energy. “Then I suppose I have a king to thank.”

“Indeed you do,” Lyonel said, stepping back. “And Harwin... don’t let your nerves get the better of you. You’ve faced down worse than an audience with the king.”

Harwin let out a short laugh, though it was clear his thoughts were already racing ahead to that impending conversation. “Worse, perhaps, but never more important.”

With a nod, Lyonel turned to leave, giving his son a final, reassuring glance. “Good luck, Harwin. And remember, this is what you’ve always wanted.”

Harwin watched his father go, the reality of the situation finally starting to sink in. He had always known that his feelings for you were dangerous, that they could lead to ruin if ever discovered. But now, with the king’s blessing, what had seemed an impossible dream was suddenly within reach.

It was madness, certainly. But it was a madness he was more than willing to embrace.

As Harwin stood there in the courtyard, his mind filled with thoughts of you—your laughter, your strength, the way your eyes seemed to spark with the same fire that burned in your dragon—he knew one thing for certain.

This was no dream. This was his future. And he would fight for it with every ounce of strength he possessed.

Harwin Strong was not a man easily shaken. He had faced down countless foes in the training yard, stood firm in the heat of battle, and bore the nickname “Breakbones” as a badge of his unyielding strength. Yet now, as he made his way to the king’s chambers, he felt a knot of anxiety twisting in his gut, tighter with each step.

He had known this moment would come eventually, though he had never imagined it would unfold like this. When he was with you, everything seemed to fade away—the weight of his duties, the expectations placed upon him, even the potential consequences of your secret meetings. But now, with Viserys himself summoning him, Harwin could not ignore the reality any longer. The king knew.

The guards outside the king’s private chambers stepped aside as Harwin approached, announcing his arrival with a simple nod. The heavy wooden doors creaked open, revealing the modest yet regal room beyond. King Viserys sat at a table near the hearth, a goblet of wine in his hand, his expression contemplative as he stared into the flickering flames.

Harwin took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm as he stepped inside. The door closed behind him with a soft thud, leaving him alone with the king. Viserys looked up, a slight smile crossing his lips as he saw Harwin approach.

“Ser Harwin,” Viserys greeted him, gesturing for him to sit. “Come, sit with me. There is much to discuss.”

Harwin inclined his head respectfully before taking the offered seat. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to meet the king’s gaze, knowing that this was not a moment to falter.

“Your Grace,” Harwin began, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him, “I am honored to be summoned by you.”

Viserys waved a hand dismissively. “No need for formalities, Harwin. We are not in the council chambers now. This is a matter between a king and a man who has served him well.”

Harwin nodded, though he felt the weight of Viserys’s words. There was no escaping the significance of this conversation, no matter how the king framed it.

Viserys took a sip of his wine, watching Harwin over the rim of his goblet. “Lyonel has likely informed you of my decision regarding my daughter.”

“He has, Your Grace,” Harwin replied, keeping his tone measured. “I must admit, I was... surprised by your generosity.”

“Generosity,” Viserys mused, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I simply recognize what is right before me.” He set the goblet down on the table, leaning forward slightly. “Tell me, Harwin—how long has this been going on?”

Harwin’s heart skipped a beat. This was the question he had dreaded, the one that would force him to confront the truth he had kept hidden for so long. He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words, but found none that could soften the blow.

“For some time now, Your Grace,” Harwin admitted, his voice quieter now. “I did not intend for it to happen... but I could not deny what I felt.”

Viserys’s expression remained unreadable as he listened. “And what is it that you feel, Harwin? What is it that has driven you to take such risks?”

Harwin swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I love her, Your Grace,” he said, the words coming out more easily than he had expected. “I love her more than I have ever loved anything or anyone in my life. I know it was not my place, but... it is the truth.”

Viserys leaned back in his chair, regarding Harwin with a mixture of curiosity and something else—something softer, more understanding. “Love is a dangerous thing, Harwin. It can be a source of great strength, but it can also lead to ruin. I’ve seen it happen more times than I care to count.”

“I know, Your Grace,” Harwin replied, his voice firm despite the vulnerability he felt. “I have tried to protect her, to ensure that no harm comes to her because of our... relationship. But I know that I may have failed in that.”

Viserys sighed, his gaze drifting back to the fire. “I should have seen it sooner. I focused too much on Rhaenyra, on her future, and I neglected to see what was happening with Y/N. I thought I could control everything, that I could arrange her future as easily as I arranged her sister’s. But the truth is, I cannot control matters of the heart.”

Harwin remained silent, sensing that the king was working through his own thoughts as much as he was addressing him.

Viserys’s eyes flicked back to Harwin, sharp and probing. “Do you know how I came to realize the nature of your relationship with my daughter?”

Harwin’s blood ran cold at the question, but he forced himself to nod. “At the wedding feast, Your Grace?”

Viserys let out a short, dry laugh. “Yes, at the wedding feast. But not just because you both slipped away, though that certainly drew my attention. No, Harwin, it was the way you looked at her. The way you looked at each other. You can tell a great deal about a man by how he looks at the woman he loves.”

Harwin felt his face flush, but he did not look away. “I did not mean to be so obvious, Your Grace. But... I could not help it.”

Viserys waved a hand dismissively. “There is no shame in it, Harwin. You are not the first man to be caught in the thrall of love, and you will not be the last. But I must know—can you be the husband she needs? The husband a princess deserves?”

Harwin straightened, his resolve hardening. “I swear to you, Your Grace, I will do everything in my power to protect her, to care for her. She means more to me than anything. I would die before I let any harm come to her.”

Viserys studied him for a long moment, as if weighing his words. Finally, he nodded, seemingly satisfied. “I believe you, Harwin. You have served the crown well, and you have shown your strength and loyalty time and again. I believe you will make a good husband to my daughter. But remember this—your love for her will be tested. You must be strong enough to withstand whatever comes your way.”

“I understand, Your Grace,” Harwin replied, his voice filled with determination. “I will not fail her. Or you.”

Viserys nodded, his expression softening ever so slightly. “Then it is settled. You will be wed, and I will see to it that the arrangements are made quickly. There is no need to delay what is inevitable.”

Harwin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, relief washing over him. “Thank you, Your Grace. I am... honored by your trust.”

“Honor and trust are fragile things, Harwin,” Viserys said, his voice tinged with a note of warning. “Do not take them for granted.”

“I will not, Your Grace,” Harwin assured him, his voice steady.

Viserys nodded, rising from his seat with a weary sigh. “You may go, Harwin. But remember, this is only the beginning. The road ahead will not be easy, but if your love is true, you will find your way.”

Harwin stood as well, bowing deeply. “Thank you, Your Grace. I will not forget your words.”

As Harwin turned to leave, Viserys spoke once more, his voice softer, more reflective. “Harwin... I hope you understand the gravity of what you’re undertaking. You are not just marrying a woman; you are marrying into the Targaryen legacy. There will be expectations, pressures... and dangers. But if you truly love her, if you are as devoted as you claim to be, then you will find the strength to face them all.”

Harwin paused at the door, turning back to face the king one last time. “I will, Your Grace. For her, I will find the strength to face anything.”

Viserys gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Good. Then go, and prepare yourself. You have much to do.”

With that, Harwin left the king’s chambers, the weight of what had just transpired settling heavily on his shoulders. But beneath that weight was a sense of purpose, of clarity. For years, he had hidden his love, guarded it like a secret treasure. Now, that love had been given the chance to flourish, to become something more.

And though he knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, Harwin felt a fierce determination burning within him. He would marry you, he would protect you, and he would ensure that the love you shared would stand the test of time.

As he made his way back through the corridors of the Red Keep, Harwin allowed himself a small, private smile. The most difficult conversation of his life was now behind him, and with it came the promise of a future he had only dared to dream of.

He would make that future a reality, no matter what it took.

The corridors of the Red Keep seemed to blur as Harwin made his way to your private chambers. His heart was pounding, but not with fear or anxiety as it had been earlier—now, it was filled with a heady mix of excitement and anticipation. The king’s blessing, the prospect of marriage, the realization that the love he had kept hidden for so long was finally allowed to flourish openly—all of it felt almost too good to be true. But it was true, and Harwin could hardly contain himself.

He reached the door to your chambers, pausing for just a moment to steady himself. He had always approached you with caution before, always mindful of the delicate balance they had to maintain. But now... now, everything was different. He could finally tell you how he truly felt, with no fear of repercussions, no need for secrecy.

Harwin knocked lightly on the door, waiting just long enough to hear your voice bidding him to enter before pushing it open.

You were standing by the window, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over your form. When you turned and saw him, a smile broke across your face—a smile that sent a thrill through him, knowing that soon you would be his, and he yours, in every way that mattered.

“Harwin,” you greeted him, your voice light and filled with affection as you crossed the room to meet him. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Has something happened?”

“Something has happened,” Harwin replied, his smile widening as he reached out to take your hands in his. “Something wonderful.”

You tilted your head slightly, curiosity alight in your eyes. “Tell me, then. What is it?”

Harwin took a deep breath, his heart swelling with the words he was about to say. “I’ve just come from the king. He has given us his blessing. We are to be married.”

The look on your face was priceless—shock, disbelief, and then an overwhelming joy that made your eyes shine. “Married?” you repeated, as if you couldn’t quite believe it.

“Yes,” Harwin confirmed, his hands tightening around yours. “He knows about us, about our feelings, and he has agreed to our match. We will be wed, Y/N. We will be together.”

For a moment, you simply stared at him, the reality of his words sinking in. Then, with a sudden, joyful laugh, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. Harwin responded immediately, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, reveling in the warmth of your body against his.

“I can’t believe it,” you whispered against his shoulder, your voice filled with emotion. “I never thought... I never dreamed this would happen.”

“Neither did I,” Harwin murmured, burying his face in your hair and breathing in your familiar scent. ��But it’s real, Y/N. It’s happening. We don’t have to hide anymore. We don’t have to pretend.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes bright with unshed tears. “I’m so happy, Harwin. I’ve wanted this for so long... I love you.”

Harwin’s heart skipped a beat at the words, though he had known them to be true long before you ever spoke them aloud. “And I love you, Y/N. More than anything in this world.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, holding each other, letting the reality of your impending marriage settle over you. There was a sense of relief, of joy, but also an undercurrent of anticipation, of the future that now stretched out before you—one that you would face together.

Finally, Harwin cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he looked down at you. “There’s nothing I want more than to spend my life with you. To be the man who stands by your side, who loves and protects you. And now... now we have that chance.”

You smiled up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “And what will you do with that chance, Ser Harwin?”

Harwin grinned, his heart swelling with love and desire. “I’ll make you the happiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms,” he vowed, his voice low and filled with promise. “I’ll love you every day, with everything I have.”

Your smile softened, and you reached up to brush a strand of hair away from his face. “Then kiss me, Harwin. Kiss me as if we’re already wed.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Leaning down, Harwin captured your lips with his, the kiss starting soft and tender, but quickly growing more passionate as the reality of your impending union fueled his desire. His hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, pouring all the love and longing he had felt for you into that one, searing connection.

You responded eagerly, your hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders, your body pressing against his as if you couldn’t get close enough. The kiss was everything he had ever wanted—intimate, intense, filled with the promise of a future together.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you struggled to catch your breath. Harwin’s hands roamed up and down your sides, as if reassuring himself that you were truly there, that this was truly happening.

“I’ve dreamed of this,” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with emotion. “Of being with you, without fear, without having to hide. And now it’s real.”

“It’s real,” Harwin echoed, his voice husky with the depth of his feelings. “And it’s just the beginning. We have so much to look forward to, Y/N. So many moments like this.”

You smiled, your eyes shining with love as you reached up to touch his face again. “Then let’s make this moment count,” you said, your voice filled with a playful challenge. “Show me how much you love me, Harwin.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a growl of desire, Harwin captured your lips again, his hands sliding down to your hips as he pressed you back against the wall. The kiss was hungrier this time, more desperate, as if he was trying to make up for all the time you had spent apart, all the moments you had stolen in secret.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you returned the kiss with equal fervor, your body arching against his. The heat between you was undeniable, a fire that had been kindling for years, now finally allowed to burn freely.

Harwin’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he pressed you against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. You gasped against his lips, your hands gripping his shoulders for support, but there was no fear, no hesitation—only a shared, burning desire.

“I want you,” Harwin whispered against your lips, his voice rough with need. “I’ve always wanted you.”

“And you shall have me,” you replied, your voice equally breathless as you clung to him. “All of me, Harwin. Now and always.”

The intensity of your words, the truth of them, sent a thrill through Harwin, and he captured your lips once more, the kiss growing more frenzied as his hands roamed over your body. Every touch, every caress, was a promise of what was to come—a future filled with love, passion, and the unbreakable bond you shared.

The world outside your chambers faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other, in the love that had been denied for so long but was now free to flourish. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered joy—a moment that neither of you would ever forget.

And as Harwin held you close, his heart swelling with love and anticipation, he knew that this was just the beginning. Your future together was bright, and he would cherish every moment of it, starting with this one.

In the quiet of your chambers, with the sun casting its golden light over the two of you, Harwin finally allowed himself to believe in the happiness that was now within his grasp. And as he kissed you again, slow and tender this time, he knew that he would spend the rest of his life making sure you felt that same happiness, every single day.

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd harwin #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #harwin x y/n #harwin x you #harwin x reader #hotd reader insert

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reallyromealone · 27 days ago

Text

Title: God what have we done?

Chapter: one

Fandom: encanto

Characters: Encanto ensemble

Fic type: fluff, angst, hurt to comfort

Pairings:

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, darkish Bruno, ten foot tall Bruno, Omega male reader, omegaverse, fluff, Bruno needs a hug, so does reader

Notes: I wrote! I wrote something through my depression! Also I had loved ones over most of October!

Summary: Bruno has to face his realities and accept what's before him.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Abuela was always deeply protective of her children, wanting to make sure they were truly loved before they were allowed to get married and when she saw how (name) looked at her little Bruno... It wasn't love... Yet.

But she knew that the Omega who sat at Bruno's door every day and sliding notes under knowing he wasn't going to get an answer was going to love that man more than life itself. (Name) Had a determination and respect for himself and others that shocked the woman, knowing omegas could typically be seen as meek and docile especially this day in age but (name)? He wasn't going to let Bruno run away without answers.

"Sweety, just give up " (name)s mother said softly to the Omega who looked at her with distain "there's so many other mates that are more... Suitable" the elderly woman was about to go defend her son when (name) spoke first "so many people demonize him and give up on him, I refuse to be one of those people" his voice holding so much conviction and confidence "it's not his fault that people can't handle what is to come, it's not his fault he's tired and exhausted from people demanding from him and getting mad because he gives what's asked and it's not fair that this town acts like he is an omen when he's a person with feelings! Actual human feelings that you all seem to disregard and- and I will wait here every day till I die if it means he knows I am not those people!"

Then suddenly he grew calm, a look on his face that made (name)s mom step back "even if he refuses to be with me, I will be in his life... I respect him but I just want answers" and then like nothing happened, (name) returned to waiting at the seers door. Upset and furious, (name)s mom reaches towards him "pardon me, is there a problem?" Abuela finally stepped in, the parents turning and going rigid when seeing Abuela "we are handling our son, how long do you expect him to wait for your son to get his act together?!" Abuela looked them up and down, head tilted slightly as if assessing them for any potential threat and deeming she could probably take em verbally "well (name) is a guest of ours and I don't appreciate it when people disrespect my guests in my own home... Wouldn't you agree?"

"He's ou--"" and as I'll repeat again, my guest now please do find your way out as it's almost time for dinner" Abuela didn't leave room for argument, the Alpha couple leaving with a huff and (name) sat there, fidgeting "thank you..."

"Did you mean that?" She asked genuinely, staring at the other with slight suspicion "I want nothing more than to make him happy, if he wants me gone... I'll go but I will never stop caring for him but till he forces me away, I'll be here waiting for when he's ready to talk" the elderly woman knew that the young man would be great for her son, he needed someone like (name) to whip him into shape "you have my blessing, don't make me regret it" the woman turned around and began walking away "dinner is in one hour, don't be late or Casita will drag you there"

(Name) Smiled brightly at her words and let out a joyful chuckle, a bit wet from tears after the heated argument with his parents, Turning to the door (name) knocked gently "please Bruno... I just want to talk"

He didn't expect an answer, he never got one but he held hope that his words got to the other.

Turns out Casita was rooting for Bruno and (name).

The words echoed through the seers room, his sweet voice hitting the man's ear drums and making him melt.... There were times he was so tempted to go down there and not be a coward.

"Shit..." Bruno looked at his empty packet of cigarettes, annoyed and frustrated... His sisters won't get him cigarettes and his mom definitely wouldn't... God damn it.

Bruno snuck down to his door, closing his eyes before opening the ornate wooden door, the cold brass knob almost burning him with warning as it creaked open.

He knew he should have stayed in his room.

(Name) Was shivering, sleeping tucked away into himself while waiting for a chance to see Bruno and get an explanation the man wasn't sure how to give.

"I'm no good for you..." Bruno whispered while crouching, even doing this action he ftowered over the other...

"Why would you want to be with someone as cursed as me? Huh?" Bruno gently wiped a stray tear from the sleeping omegas face before standing up, planning to sneakndown the steps. "Casita!" The man growled out while the house made the stairs move upwards like an escalator with every step while the rBrunoailings shook angrily "I .! Yo dad's du have to understand!" He grovwled out and tried to outrun the stairs to no avail.

"Bruno?" The Alpha froze at the sound of his omegas voice, turning to see the beauty himself, hair tussled from sleep and clothes messy "(name)..." Bruno felt the air leave his body when he looked into those glassy eyes... Casita deciding to speed things along and force them closer and before Bruno knew it, be was right in front of the poor thing.

"You look tired..." (Name) Whispered, gently touching the others face and tracing his cheekbone, the stubble on his face tickling the others palm "you don't look too great yourself..." Bruno fired back playfully and took in the tired expression of the other fully... This was his fault...

"Why were you hiding, Bruno?" (Name)s voice was barely above a whisper, the Omega oozing distress and worry... "I-" Bruno never felt this fearful, the man usually had some remark or comeback but those eyes... How dare (name) make him feel so vulnerable?

"Let's go for a walk"

Abuela watched from her window, eyes hopeful for the two who stood like strangers... "Come on brunito... Don't let this one slip away" she whispered, watching the Alpha put his poncho over (name) when he noticed (name) shiver.

It was tense, the two walking beside each other "you cold?" Bruno asked (name) who was slightly shivering, the Omega shaking his head "I'm fine" his voice barely above a whisper. Before he could look up a poncho was tossed at him "don't lie" Bruno said with a slight glare "we don't lie" he knew (name) didn't like lying and the Omega huffed "but we can run away at the slightest inconvenience?" The other challenged, always the defiant one (name) was, never giving up on anything or anyone. It's what made Bruno love him so much.

But god he wished this one time he would give up on him.

"You don't understand--"" then help me understand instead of just running like a scared puppy!"

"I'm not a scared puppy!"

"Really because you look like your tails between your legs! Now be the Alpha you are and talk to me!"

"I saw our future and I leave you alone crying!" Bruno snapped and (name) looked shocked and confused "I-I... I looked when I realized you weren't going anywhere, w-we have children together and I leave you all..."

"Were they cute?"

"That's what you focus on here?!" Bruno was stunned and (name) shrugged "you may be a bit of a coward but you're no fool... I'll understand... You only run to help people even if it's misguided... Can I see the fortune?"

"You sure?"

"Absolutely..."

Bruno led (name) back, through Casita and through his room, the two silent but less awkward.

"They're adorable..."

"You can barely see them" Bruno snorted amused "and? They're ours so they're the cutest"

"But you're crying?"

"Your prophesy is up to interpretation right? We don't know the context, what's right around the corner... Please... Let me be in your life" (name) looked hopeful "I want to meet these children we created"

"Y-you still want me?"

"You're a snarky asshole with a terrible smoking habit but you are the love of my life and I'm not letting you go without a fight" (name) said simply, moving closer to the Alpha who couldnt help but laugh "that so? You think you can take me on?"

"Take you on, take you out, it's quite easy"

"Really?"

"Wanna see?"

"Sure" Bruno was curious but didn't expect a kiss to be planted on his face, standing shocked "see! Took you down!"

Come morning, the official courting began, abuela chuckled when she saw her son being dragged around by the Omega who chatted the annoyed alphas ear off "do you ever shut up?" Bruno grumbled and (name) shook his head "nope! And now you're stuck with me! Now come on! You have some stuff to make up for!"

"Like what?"

Yee high

"Like us going in jfor lunch!

Bruno had his hands full, she could tell.

(Name) Was already bringing out the better in him.

It was quite funny, the cute Omega being followed by the scary guard dog that was the yountgest Madrigal "feel this!" (Name) Was looking at textiles and the Alpha raised an eyebrow "why?" Confused at the omegas words, why would he care? "For your courting gift! I need to know you like the texture, I know you are lucky about that stuff!" (Name) Said like it was the most normal, common sense thing but the Alpha was stun locked.

Bruno let the Omega force him the touch fabric after fabric before settling on a soft green wool yarn, mumbling something about knitting but Bruno stewed mentally about courting gifts.

Fuck what does he get someone for courting?!

"Courting gifts?!" A blinding light hit Bruno's eyes while he sat with his sisters and peppas ray of sunlight over her head "our baby brothers growing up!" Juileta fake cried and Bruno stood up, this was a mistake "wait! Bruno don't leave!" The sisters were giggling at the youngest of their trio who scoffed and lit a cigarette "Bruno! You need to stop smoking!" Peppa hissed as a storm cloud grew over her head and Bruno rolled his eyes at her worry "let's get to the topic at hand" juileta said pulling the bickering two back on the focus "what have you given him so far?"

"Nothing?" He was supposed to do that?

"Bruno, you have been in love with this young man for months and he has come by every day showering you with gifts and you got him nothing!" Peppa fumes and Bruno wanted to scream "we were still working things out!" God he knew he shouldn't have gone to these two! "Well what are you going to get him?!" "That's why I'm here Peppa! Because I don't know what shit omegas like!"

"Juileta is an Omega! How could you not know!"

"Well clearly that's not the focus I had! I was busy trying to not get assaulted with makeup and all that shit you did to me!"

Juileta sighed while Augustus walked into the kitchen curiously "what's all this about?" He asked eating some bread his wife made and his broken finger healed "Bruno doesn't know what to get (name)! He doesn't know what omegas like despite mama and Juileta!"

"Maybe don't focus on what omegas like" Augustus said calmly, a gentle smile towards his in law, he was in his shoes when courting his mate and the stress in the prophet's eyes spoke volumes of the fear of fucking up masked behind his rough exterior "what does (name) like? Think of three things he loves more than anything"

Bruno was quiet before abruptly standing up and walking out of the room, the trio watching curiously "is he not going to explain to us?" Peppa huffed before sipping her coffee, grumbling while her sister patted her back "we will see soon"

It was late, (name) hadn't heard from Bruno all day and decided to check on him and was... "THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT!" Jumping slightly at the yelling before rushing up to see Bruno surrounded by the hobbies (name) loved... "What's all this?" Bruno snapped his head up, eyes filled with frustration but softened just a bit when he saw him and his sour scent of rage and confusion had a slight hint of raspberry in it.

Love.

"You're not supposed to be here"

"You were hiding and I got worried..."

Bruno mentally cursed himself while (name) stepped closer "are these courting gifts?"

"... Your hobbies are impossible and fucking awful and I don't know how you don't pull out your hair" (name) mentally translated the man's words to "you're incredibly talented and I have no idea how you do this" and smiled "You were trying to make me a blanket?" The Alpha flushed slightly before shrugging "I wanted you to have a proper mating gift..." (Name) Wanted to cry, kneeling down to the hunched over giant of an alpha and cupping his face "you could paint a rock and I would love it... These are things I love doing because I love making things for others... Why don't you do something you are good at doing?"

(Name) Gently kissed the other, his beard tickling his lips and fingers tracing the others cheekbones "but first, I'm starving and I want to eat food with my mate" "were not mates yet" "yet!" (Name) Rand back down to where he abandoned his basket and returned "I made bread!"

Bruno felt his worries and stress wash away at his beloved, the Omega showing the food he made with so much love... Bruno couldn't think of any reason to make (name) cry....

There were things Bruno was passionate about, his secret hobbies...

And (name) was going to learn one of them.

"Is this a collar?"

"Made of our tablet..."

(Name) Let out a choked sob before looking at Bruno who immediately panicked "why are you crying?! Is it bad?!" His worried voice making (name) smile "n-no! I-I love it so much!"

Bruno took a breath "don't fucking scare me like that..." Gently he put it on (name), the omegas scent was so overwhelming and happy and Bruno couldn't help but pull (name) close and smell the pharamones that clung to him every day...

"I love you"

#male reader #x male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #Omega reader #Encanto x male reader #Encanto x reader #Encanto omegaverse #Bruno x male reader #bruno x reader #ten foot tall bruno #angst #fluff #hurt to comfort #dont get comfortable im writing an emotional punch in the face

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quickstappen · 4 months ago

Text

track 001: end of the beginning

A/N: hello, welcome to another smau i guess, enjoy? this is the real reason why the latest part of carved my name was up so late yall ;) oscar won his first race and i had to do something!! i'm sorry to all the carlos fans, but someone's gotta be the bad guy, yk?

masterlist | next

december 2020

liked by prema_team, arthur_leclerc and others

paola_sainz I can't believe it is time to go, it still doesn't feel real. Thank you for those amazing years together, for the memories and happiness, I couldn't wish for better team, better friends, I love you all and I'll miss you tremendously. Cheers to the next chapter in our lives.

see all comments...

prema_team We'll miss you vice-champ! Make sure to visit when you're around ❤️

↳ paola_sainz of course! I'll visit so much you'll get sick of me ;)

sainzssss_ noooooooo, what???

shithappens what. the. fuck.

carlossainz55 Excited for your new journey! Now you can spend more time in my garage 🔥😎

↳ paola_sainz yeah, im so excited too!

↳ quickstappen this seems... dry

↳ albono_23 right???

ilpredestinatox oh noo! you were the reason i decided to follow my dreams and go to college for mechanical engineering, i can't believe you're not gonna be racing anymore

↳ paola_sainz oh sweetie, i'm so glad you're following your dreams! dm me if you have any enfeneering problems - i can ask around and get back to you ;)

↳ nyoomf1 she's so sweet 🥹

arthur_leclerc I'll miss your annoying face you know? (only a tiny bit)

↳ paola_sainz acting like you won't see me at basically every race anyway (i'll miss you too) 🤍

↳ arthur_leclerc 🤍

february 2024

liked by arthur_leclerc, jensonbutton and others

paola_sainz does it ever drive you crazy...?

3 years ago i was broken beyond recognition, i lost my purpose and will to carry on, i thought that without racing i was noone. to think that the same girl just sold out her first collection of athletic wear is absolutely crazy, i can't believe how far we've come and i can't wait to see what else we can do

see all comments...

carlando333 girl 💀💀

↳ ilpredestinatox what do you mean, tf

↳ carlando333 Carlos literally just lost his seat for next year

↳ ilpredestinatox well, this is not carlos' page is it? she's not his keeper, she's allowed to be her own person

cuddlyxricc can she like,, read the room?

byelandoo lol, she does not care about the ferrari drama AT ALL

carlove55 are you gonna comment on the carlos situation??

shithappens she looked so happy when she was racing 🥺 i still can't accept that i'll never see her in a f1 car

↳ quickstappen right??

arthur_leclerc i am going to model the next collection

↳ paola_sainz don't know if you've noticed, but i make WOMEN'S athletic wear

↳ arthur_leclerc you just don't want to see me slay

↳ paola_sainz do not say slay ever again

charlosp1 💀

spanishxbabe so Carlos means nothing to you?

jensonbutton So proud! Brittany loves her set 🧡

↳ paola_sainz 🧡

charles_leclerc Knew you could do it Lola 🤍

↳ paola_sainz thank you for believing in me Charlie 🤍

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and others

paola_sainz oh baby, how good to see you again!

(also, charles_leclerc go and win me a race please, i don't know how many forza ferrari sempre's i have left in me)

see all comments...

shithappens i'm sorry, is that a man? with my wife?

quickstappen queen is back in paddock!

arthur_leclerc so the ones with me in them were not good enough to make it, but the random one with him tying you're shoelaces made it?

↳ paola_sainz guess so, try harder next time

screwderriaf1 she's so real for that, Charles for WDC2024

↳ ilpredestinatox GIRL, be so fr rn

↳ screwderriaf1 just let me dream man

carlando333 oh come on! she doesn't care about carlos at all! fucking snake, thinking she's better than him🐍

logansargeant nice of you to visit old friends

↳ paola_sainz we're literally going for lunch tomorrow?

↳ sheilaxf1 they know each other??

↳ lewibear yeahh, since her time at prema i'm pretty sure

charles_leclerc Yeah, no pressure right

↳ paola_sainz you know it ;)

charlosp1 did she really say that she wishes that charles won and not her brother who's fighting for his future this season 💀

redmilton Paola Sainz soft launching a white man in the year 2024 was not on my bingo card

cuddlyxricc sorry but first no comment on carlos' seat and now this? yeah no, not cool

elmatadorf1 traitor! rooting for charles when your brother lost his seat because of him 🐍

madi_races is my girlfriend in a relationship with a.... man??

predestined55 absolutely no honour, not surprised tbh after seeing who she hangs out with 🐍

darth_nando can we please stop mentioning Carlos in every comment section under her posts? it's so unnecessary

paola's messages:

YouTube, Screaming Meals | now playing:

↳ 01:52s - - - > - 04:37s

↳ 21:46s - - - > - 29:31s

↳ 52:14s - - - >- 1:08:11s

paola's messages:

madi's radio: okay look, the text between Spanish speakers.... i do not know Spanish and putting entire conversations through google translate is not the best, so let's just pretend they're in Spanish, yeah?

click here to be added to the hiding in the seams taglist!

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

#f1 smau #ferrari f1 #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #arthur leclerc #f2 smau #f1 instagram au #oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri smau #f1 x oc

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hyperlexichypatia · 11 days ago

Text

At some point I have to unpack and describe the specific intersection of factors that led to my specific experiences with food shaming (and all related topics like sizeism, ableism, neurobigotry, healthism, ageism, etc).

As a a fat, autistic, ARFID-ite who's consistently been treated as younger than I am, and with scandalously non-abusive parents (how dare they vaguely accept me as I am without beating me into submission!), a lot of the food shaming I've experienced in my life was based on treating me more as a "spoiled child" than as a "fat woman," even after I was clearly the latter.

Food with my extended family or parents' friends or anyone older than myself was always a site of shaming how spoiled I was, how overly permissive my parents were, how rude I was for not eating what I was served (specifically for that -- I wasn't actually doing any "rude things" like commenting negatively on the food, demanding alternate food, or anything like that! But simply not eating what I was served, as a Young Person, was "rude".)

I was also heavily desexualized and somewhat degendered, so it wasn't "You're an unsexy woman because you're fat and ugly, not thin and sexy like a woman should be," it was "You're a spoiled brat picky eater who needs a spanking." Up through age. Like. 24.

And I realize, please believe me, I am very well aware of what an incredibly privileged problem this is. I was stigmatized because my parents weren't abusive? What kind of problem is that? Everyone else was dealing with actual problems, like actual abusive parents!

So my point isn't to complain about my problems, it's to say that food-shaming takes many forms. I was reminded of that when I saw an otherwise good, innocuous post about getting along with family at Thanksgiving, that included something about "Don't ask teens if they have a boyfriend/girlfriend, ask them about their hobbies, or what they're most looking forward to on their plate!" and I was suddenly filled with anxiety, because, no, don't do that. If you had asked Teenage Me what I was most looking forward to on my plate, I would have assumed that you were admonishing me for only having two foods on it, lecture me about how I can't have dessert if I don't eat my vegetables, nagging me to "Just try it," and possibly throwing in some remark about "Back in my day, if we didn't eat what we were told, we got a whipping!" Questions about my nonexistent love life would have been comparatively less fraught.

Don't comment on people's food choices. Don't comment on kids' food choices. Don't comment on teens' food choices. Don't comment on adults' food choices. Don't comment on people's food choices.

Don't ask teens if they have a boyfriend/girlfriend either, although, if that tradition must continue, I'd at least like to add age balance to it. If you ask a 15 year old if she has a boyfriend, she should legally be allowed to ask you how your divorce is coming.

#cw food #food moralizing #food shaming #sizeism #ableism #neurobigotry #healthism #actually autistic #actually arfid #cw child abuse

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platonicyanderereverie · 26 days ago

Note

ok how about gn reader x fatui harbingers. BUT the reader is OBBSESED with cooking and is damn good at it to.

Make this some headcanons lets see your skill.

Thank you for your request‼️ (You can definitely tell I have favourites😭)

Platonic yandere fatui with a reader that loves to cook.

(No Tsaritsa or Pierro in this one unfortunately😭)

[Warnings: none? Other than usual possessive/protective behaviour]

Capitano

Capitano would be a bit confused by your ambitious nature in the kitchen. Cooking is not exactly what he would deem the most useful skill from a combative standpoint, but he doesn’t mind overall. Being able to prepare a nutritious meal is a rather valuable resource, after all.

He wouldn't object to tasting what you prepare and would seem rather pleased, standing in his usual quiet, stoic manner if you offered him something you made. Although he believes you shouldn't be getting your hands dirty with such menial tasks- rather than, let's say, learning to fight...seeing your passion for it, he doesn't seem all too bothered. It simply means more for him to protect.

"It's good...you seem to enjoy doing this."

Dottore

Dottore would show a slight interest in what you do, mostly observing how crafty you can get with the minimal resources you can find to make something yourself. If you were to offer him a meal, he would accept, dissecting the flavors carefully on his tongue and, with his inquisitive nature, asking about the process. The measurements you used or if you just eye balled it and so on and so forth.

If he feels like it, Dottore might even test you, observing how creative you can get with the resources you have and perhaps throwing random hurdles your way in the form of difficulties in the kitchen. That being said, if he is pleased by the results and your dish turns out well, you will receive praise. It’s really rather simple.

"It seems, you compensated for the lack of variety in vegetables with the broth itself, interesting..."

Columbina

Columbina rather enjoys watching you bustle around in the kitchen, simply observing with a smile. She's more than willing to taste what you make, even making requests at times. She seems to just enjoy watching you obsess over something she deems rather silly.

Columbina will be less pleased, however, if it comes between your time with her. If you want to run off back to the kitchen, you'll have to wait until she finishes her song- then you can go craft up your little meals. It's a flawless arrangement in her eyes.

"Don't run off just yet...I'm not done. When I am, I'll come with you."

Arlecchino

Arlecchino is rather glad you have something you're passionate about. The children and the household seem to enjoy your cooking as well, so it works out rather well.

She’ll humor your little workings in the kitchen. The children of the hearth often crowd around the table in awe to see what you've made. Any dishes you present to her will be judged with high standards, but seeing how skilled you are, that shouldn’t be a problem.

"It's tender and flavorful, as expected. Well done."

Pulcinella

Pulcinella is delighted by your little passion, finding the way you obsess over it cute. He'll often gift you little knickknacks or tools to use in the kitchen.

Pulcinella gladly eats any meal you present to him, finding pride in how well they turn out. He pats you on the head when he finishes, for him, it's a skill made to be shown off.

"Delightful as always! Hmm, how about I get you a new plate set?"

Sandrone

Sandrone is rather disinterested in your cooking escapades but allows them nonetheless.

She might even offer up a few gadgets for you to try and use in your recipes to speed up the process and make it more practical. You'd merely be wasting more of your time than you already do by declining.

"Why not use this to speed up the process?"

Scaramouche

Scaramouche thinks your little obsession is laughable at best. The concept of human cuisine is not exactly something he thinks about often.

He might not always accept your little meal offers since, chances are, unless the dish is bitter to a certain degree or lacks any sweetness, he won't like it. But he still might humor you, all while teasing and judging sharply. In the off chance he is impressed, you might not even be able to tell.

"Hah... is this what you've been wasting your time on? You truly find enjoyment in slaving away in that darned room?"

La Signora

Signora would have been highly critical of what you made as well, but she would allow it, finding how you worked away amusing.

If you offered her a meal, she would sigh in an exaggerated manner, as if begrudgingly petting an insistent puppy. She decides to humor you.

"It's something, alright. Your skills would be of better use elsewhere, but I suppose it's enjoyable nonetheless."

Pantalone

Pantalone might be the only one actually against your little obsession because, honestly, why would you want to get your hands dirty? He has chefs at your beck and call, and you choose to tire yourself away in the kitchen?

He acknowledges your skill and finds it rather amusing how desperate you are, seeing all the ingredients at the disposal of the chefs. However, he truly doesn't think you should be going around filthying up the clothes he's given you. But alas, he will still eat what you offer him.

"It's good, great even, but really, my dear? The chefs would have been more than happy to make it for you if this is what you've been craving. But I suppose your stubbornness can't be helped."

Childe

Childe is actually happy about how ambitious you are when it comes to cooking. He will often use it as an excuse to drag you into family dinners and boast about your skills.

Inviting you over so your skills can be displayed to his whole family is going to become a rather recurring situation, so be prepared. He's also more than happy to gift you any kitchen supplies you need, all while not-so-subtly pushing you to help out in the kitchen.

"It turned out amazing comrade! We really need to do this more often. Teucer is still raving about the food you made!"

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