#with snow uncle too! how wonderful

[dxkjf]

The best gift a father could ask for!

[ophelieverse]

if you are still taking requests I have one:Jace returning to Winterfell to reader,who is Cregan younger sister,to make the “song of ice and fire” become true after his mother told him😌please and thank you❤️

✩ ‧₊˚ and his will be the song of ice and fire

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader

-Summary:during his first stay at Winterfell,Jace and Y/n got much closer than they should.Now,after knowing the prophecy about the song of ice and fire from his mother,Jace is determined to make it true with the most beautiful lady he had ever seen.

-Warnings:spoilers of the last episode,reader is a Stark,Jace cheats of Baela(him and reader pull a Rhaegar and Lyanna)smutty time,asoiaf classic warnings.

•-thank you so much for requesting and let me know what you guys think,sending you lots of love

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On that night in early Winter,as a milky moon shines white above the hills,the snow falls soft to whitewash the gentle slopes and the houses in the valley of Winterfell.The air smells of the last breath of smoke blown out of a fireplace,ice,earth and wood.

It's late,and many lights are already off,but the fire of torches along the streets still shine.The tavern lanterns are also still lit,as are some fireplaces or oil lamps in homes.The world is immersed in the peaceful quiet of that cold night,which already brings with it the algid squeeze of winter now closer and closer.

In the secluded area of the cold godswood,in the gardens of the castle of Winterfell,silence envelopes the floral landscape like a lover embrace and Jacaerys worries that the unrequited sound of his beating heart could be heard throughout the whole realm.

The blood-red leaves in the branches of the weirdwood tree danced calmly in the breezy wind,the snow had stopped falling from the black sky leaving only the white stars to shine.The torches lights were too close and too bright,Jace eyes were hurting and his cold hands were trying to warm up in the ones of his future bride.

The young prince is really trying to focus on the soft words,the promises of eternal love and loyalty,of the Septon that works for House Stark.But they sounded so foreign to him,almost as if they were another language.It’s impossible for him to focus on anything else outside the fact that he’s really getting married.

During his life,Jacaerys has never knew well how weddings ceremonies actually worked,but he was pretty sure that this one,his,wasn’t what people would call a normal one.He has a vague memory of his mother second wedding,just the day after the worst night of his life,but he still could remember a loving couple becoming one in the heart and soul.Promising each other,in the house culture,love and devotion,eternal loyalty.

He also remembered the wedding of his uncle and aunt,Aegon and Helaena,in the big and bright Temple in King’s Landing.How two children spouted oaths that they didn’t believed in,framed by perfect swaths of red,green and yellow.Smiling faces of their families,proud to be reunited for such a joyful moment.Then the celebration after in the castle,the people dancing and laughing,the melodious music and singing,the delights of the night.

Meanwhile this wedding,his,was quiet and rushed.Reserved and in the dark shade of the forest.There are no wonderful colors for decorations,no smiling families members or friends,aside from Cregan who was chosen as a witness to the union,and Jacaerys is in the middle of an icy tundra of suffocating silence.

Y/n is standing in front of him,adorned in pure pearly white just like the snow at her feet.She wasn’t just beautiful,she was otherworldly and vaguely threatening.Bright eyes,rosy cheeks and red lips,hair falling in the wind,the smile of and enchanting enchantress and the nature of a young she wolf.Blue winter roses crowned on her head,she looked like a religious icon,someone people sacrificed themselves for.

Jacaerys had spent weeks with her during his stay in the North and he couldn’t forget her for days.He had engraved her name in the palm of his hands,the way she would laugh with him,the way she carried herself and looked at him,forever in his heart.It was impossible to not grow to love her,the beautiful lady was made of magic and stardust.

The logics and sermons,the words and phrases of the Septon weren’t the one to convince him to swear his allegiance and love,the way she held his hands and softly smiled at him driven deeper into his soul.Y/n had wrapped herself into his ribs,crawling right inside his heart,to keep him warm.

He was born for her and she was born for him.The ice and the fire,it was written in the destiny.

His mother words still echoed in his mind as he looked at Y/n.The song of ice and fire would be the product of their love,a son or a daughter that would have ruled and kept the realm together and safe.Someone who would inherit the blood of the old Valyria,the blood of the dragons and gods,fire and warmth from their father.And the blood of the first men,the old gods,the ice of the true north from their mother.

Y/n was his truth,Jacaerys was the dream,she was the ice and he was the fire.

She made him sick with desire,she always did since the moment he was first introduced to her.With the desire to have her,to possess her,to have her around him forever.And now he had the perfect opportunity,the perfect excuse for his betrayal to Baela and his mother who had betrothed them months ago.

Now he could still believe that he was a good person with a purpose,not only because of his own selfish dream to be with Y/n and to marry her just because her figure hunted his memory and his carnal needs.Because he was growing to love her and wanted to grow old with her.It was for the realm,he was repeating to himself over and over to shut down the guilt,and it would be what he would tell his mother and cousin when he and his new wife would go to Dragonstone after their wedding.For the realm,for the world and the Targaryen dynasty.

Jacaerys is dressed in pure black,trembling in his furry cloak,he’s trying to calm down his breathing that relies heavily through his nose in forms of little white clouds.Idly he wonders if this was a funeral ceremony instead of a wedding,but this was the best they could manage in such short time.

The young prince had came to Winterfell,flying on dragon back,with the last lights of the sun and everything was orchestrated in secrecy as fast as they could.The child that would be born from him and Y/n needed to be fully legitimate,he didn’t wanted to risk a bastard just like he was,not when the child wouldn’t have become the protector of the realm,the one from Aegon the Conqueror dream.

Y/n was promised to Lord Jason Lannister eldest son and Jacaerys was promised to his cousin Baela.Everything of this was the highest of treason but the war was already there and they couldn’t go back now.His mind couldn’t help but circling around and back to the empty and oddly depressing atmosphere around them.

Before them a old and solemn man was going through some chants about the gods witnessing the union and behind them a grand total of just two whole guest.Cregan stood there,wrapped around his cloak,still and silent like a statue,Vermax was a few feet away looking at the scene like he could understand what was going on.

«In the sight of the Seven,I hereby see you these two souls,binding them as one for eternity.Look upon one another and say the words.»the Septon words were spoken with decision under the torches fire.

Jacaerys swallows thickly and feels like he’s been choked by the cloak that now is heavier on his shoulders.A beads of sweats drips down on his forehead and make his hair stuck on his neck even in the cold air.He wants nothing more than loose his collar and breathe deeply.All that clothing is far too stiff and uncomfortable and he feels like a stranger in his own body.He has to tell himself,as he close his eyes,that this would be over sooner that he’ll realize.

His mouth feels dry as he wet his lips before speaking his vows«Father.Smith.Warrior.Mother.Maiden. Crone.Stranger.I am hers,and she is mine,from this day,till the end of my days.»his voice was firm as he held her hand tightly.

Y/n smiled at him,she tried to be brave just like he was.Her hands were shaking in his,her nerves had eaten her alive the whole night,from the moment she had put on her mother old dress,to this very moment.Now she couldn’t go back.

She really started to love Jacaerys,how could she not?He was so gentle with his words,so kind with the way he touched and looked at her,perfect in everything that he did.And the fact that him,such a beautiful and loving man,had chosen her as his wife and future mother of his children,was dream coming true.As a child,she often dreamed of becoming a princess and to marry a prince,just like the ones in her fairytales.

But now she would’ve had to be the future Queen in a kingdom divided in two,with a war that was screaming outside their door.Jacaerys seemed to read her mind,squeezing her hands lovingly and nodding his head to reassure her,in a way to tell her that she wasn’t alone and that they would be together in the bad and the good.

«Father.Smith.Warrior.Mother.Maiden.Crone.Stranger.I am his and he is mine,from this day,till the end of my days.»Y/n pronounced every single word softly without taking her eyes off her husband.

Maybe this was really a funeral because,as she spoke,Y/n realized that there was no turning back now,they would not be just a prince and lady anymore.When did everything became so complicated?She started to get melancholic as she started to register how much her life had changed in few seconds,that the best part of her new life was also the hardest.

Just a few weeks ago she was running around the godswood with Jacaerys as she was teaching him about the old gods and the legends in the north and now all of her dreams and ambitions were threatened by her husband family.A family that she was part of now.

They were supposed to change the world by bringing their child into it,but the world was about to change them and it certainly wasn’t a change for the better.The greens usurping the throne,prince Aemond killing prince Lucerys proves that.

Y/n head was hurting as she thought about that.And she couldn’t forget about the part where both her and Jacaerys were promised to other people.They would be viewed as traitors among his family,his uncle Daemon wouldn’t take the news kindly and he certainly wouldn’t congratulate them.Y/n father also didn’t knew about any of this and she still feared his reaction.

Regardless all of that,of having the world against them.Both Jacaerys and Y/n didn’t cared about all the venomous things people will say about them or the things that they would have to go through,because if they were given a second chance they would do it all over again.They were loving each other too much to let the other go.

«With this kiss I pledge my love.»Jacaerys said to her,moving his hand to caress carefully her freezing cheek.

His lips felt soft and surprisingly warm against her cold ones.And just like that they were officially married in the sight of the Seven and law.

There is no time for celebrations,no music and tables filled with joy,decorations and all sort of foods.Instead they found themselves in Y/n chambers,the one she grew up in,the one that saw her going from a little girl that played with her dolls to a married woman.

The sheets were changed clean,some fresh flowers were put to adorn the headboard and right on the small table at the center of the table there was wine and some fruits.Cregan had to be the one organizing the whole thing as a small gift.

Y/n takes off her cloak and picks up a small red berry.Jacaerys does the same,moving around the room quietly,he raised his eyes and caught her attention with a sweet smile,so tender and yet so seductive,his lips shiny and wet with a clear juice that slowly dripped down his chin.

«Let me help my wife.»his voice sounded more confident now that it was just the two of them and no one else.

The word,wife,made Y/n feel hot against her chest and down her legs.Standing behind her,Jacaerys wrapped her in his arms.She shuddered when she felt his lips on her neck and along her shoulder:she closed her eyes and abandoned herself against his chest,sighing.

«Jace,husband.»whispered the beautiful lady,her eyes closed and her head slightly tilted back.

«From our love will come the child that this world needs.»Jacaerys had said between the kisses«And I will take care of both of you.»he continued.

«You promise?»Y/n voice was just breathless whisper.

«Nothing will happen to you,»his hand crawled down her stomach leaving shivers on her clothed skin,only to stop at her lower belly.

«But…your family…your mother and uncle-»she tried,biting her lip when he started to suck gently behind her ear.

«Our family will understand.»he corrected her«My mother knows the truth and she will grow to love you just like I do,especially after we will make her a grandmother.»he reassured her sweetly.

A shiver flashed down her back and inflamed her loins.The young prince lowered her shoulder strap to discover her breasts and squeezed it slowly between his fingers,flaring in turn as he felt the nipple turged against his palm.

Y/n staggered,her heart throbbing,her breath shortness and her legs were already trembling but Jacaerys was quick to support her:he lifted her in his arms and took her to the thalamus,on which he gently laid her,a splendid candid flower that seemed to fill that place of shadow with light and of which it was impossible for him to do without.

«My beautiful princess,my beautiful wife.»he murmured against her lips kneeling above her,her eyes shiny,her face turned on despite the pallor.

Y/n took his head in her hands,dipped her fingers between his long curly black hair like a crow's wing;she felt his whole body quiver himing,his heart beating fiercely,and like every time he made her understand that he wanted her,a glance was enough for her to make sure of his devotion:she beat her eyelashes darkening the beautiful irises for a moment,licking her lips;she barely curved them,aware that that gesture drove him crazy,she slowly pulled a flap of the dress to herself by uncovering one leg and flexed it,letting the toe of her foot slide down his thigh,continuing to look at him intensely.

Below the fabric of his pants,Jacaerys felt the delicacy and sensuality of her touch.The tremor of excitement that attacked him was violent, lightning-fast:he stared at her for a moment and couldn't resist any longer.He impatiently freed her from the gown leaving her naked and just as quickly he undressed himself,the look that ran longingly on every corner of her body,unable to give up admiring her as the first time and like every time.

«I’m yours.»Jacaerys promised her,whispering against her lips«Nothing will ever take me away from you.»he kissed her sweetly.

She whimpered and her heart started to beat faster«I’m yours.»she repeated.

He sank with his nose and mouth between the curves of her chest,grabbed her soft hips,stroked her thighs and bottom.Y/n flared all up as she felt his lips pop greedily on her breasts,squeezing volupously around one of his nipples as he brushed it with his tongue and teased the other with his thumb.Pervaded with chills,she widened her legs and clawed her fingers on the sheets;she lifted her pelvis sighing,longing for it anxiously.

The pleasure exploded when he began to draw with the arabesque index finger in the center of her body:she moaned,her breasts shaken by palpitations,her nipples turgid and sore from the pleasure of kisses and caresses,the groin and lower abdomen on fire.

Jacaerys stretched out on her,wrapped her every horizon in darkness:all her muscles were pulsing, the heartbeat that became gradually more frenetic from the burning need to love her,to get drunk on her.He looked at her again he could never have satiated himself to admire her beautiful face - and as soon as she returned his gaze,sweet and sensual every time more,the voluptuousness clouded his mind.

He sank between her thighs,tearing a lament from her that he suffocated with his lips;he clinged her tightly in his arms and kissed her with trepidation,proud and passionate as he pushed himself into her.Y/n clung to his shoulders pressing against his chest with her breasts and belly,her thighs squeezed to his hips:she felt like screaming again, but her tongue danced unbridled in her mouth,the movement of the hips energetic against her,providing her with each push a pang of intense,deep,absolute enjoyment.

The prince hands ran over her body with ardor,she felt his fingers demanding and sweet at the same time on the flesh,in the throes of estasy,she could do nothing but indulge in passion,following the fast pace with which he was moving inside,shadow inside the light,light wrapped in shadow.

«Jace,oh my gods!»Y/n had breathed closing her eyes and pulling the hair at the nape of his neck.

Going crazy with pleasure to hear his bride enjoy,Jacaerys pushed with greater vigor,eager to increase her enjoyment to a great demour,excited by her moans and delighted by the fervor with which she clenched herself by scratching his back with her nails.

«Y/n,oh my sweet little wife.»he groaned against her her,sweat covering his forehead.

He loved her,impetuously and madly,letting himself be stunned by her sighs,her heartbeats,her scent,similar to a flower that spreads his fragrance moved by the north wind caress.

Y/n quivered below him,the breast prey to his incessant caresses,the mouth half of his insatiable kisses;she felt his love to pierce her with tenacity,the pleasure to become more and more powerful and intoxicating and when she reached her peak she screamed,overwhelmed by the intensity of that embrace:this time Jacaerys did not hold back her scream and in turn could not hold back a moan as he made sure to release inside of her.

Appealing to the last forces Jacaerys had left,he bent down to kiss her and finally overturned at her side,panting.Exhausted,Y/n abandoned herself against the bed,her long hair spread in waves on her pillows.

Jace hurried to cover her with the sheet so that she wouldn't get cold and smiled at her,as soon as he felt her fingers touch his cheek.For a moment he stood to contemplate her eyes,her lips,her smile...she was even more beautiful,after love.

«Y/n,»he whispered as he came back to hold her tenderly to himself«I love you.»

She sought shelter in his arms,fulfilled and satiated with strong emotions but still eager for him.She placed her head on his chest and let his caress her hair«I love you too Jace.»she answered.

He smiled,placing a hand on her warm and sweaty skin of her lower belly where he hope a new life would start to grow soon«I promise you,our child will change the world.»he whispered.

They fell asleep together,ice and fire united.And the next day they would still be like this,in each other's arms,bound by passion,seduced by love.Creating a new life together that would have changed everything.

[arcielee]

dōna mandia

Summary: Her brothers convince her to play a game of hide-and-seek. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Reader Word Count: 4085 WARNINGS/THIS IS A DARK FIC: Targcest, with she/her pronouns, MDNI, 18+ Dubcon, inexperience, fingering, implied sexual themes, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, anal, double penetration, rough sex.  Author's Note: Thank you @hamatoanne​​ for being my muse and inspiring this depravity. Thank you to @sylas-the-grim​​ for beta reading and perfecting. And a huge thank you to @aemonds-fire​​ for helping me with my Tumblr settings that had me ripping my hair out. 💜 Anyway, this is what you wanted from this poll. I hope you are all happy with yourselves. 😂   

Valyrian translations: mēre, lanta, hāre is one, two, three dōna mandia is sweet sister

Tumblr kindred spirits: @aaaaaamond​ @annikin-im-panicin​ @watercolorskyy​ @schniiipsel​ @aemondx​ @fan-goddess​ @babygirlyofthevale​ @httpsdoll​ @theromanticegoist​ @assortedseaglass​ @amiraisgoingthruit​ @theoneeyedprince​ @hb8301​ @lovelykhaleesiii​ 

“Come, sweet sister,” Aegon whispered into the shell of her ear. She felt the warmth of his palms through the layers of silk worn, her robe and her nightgown, with his intimate touch to her lower back to guide her.

She paused for a moment and peered back at her twin. Aemond had covered his one eye, his sapphire glinting from the lighting of the room as his timbre rumbled the numbers off in Old Valyria. “Mēre,” he began, with a slight curl to his lips.

“With me,” Aegon urged, his other hand interlacing with her own to pull, and she could not help the giggle that slipped from her lips as she followed him.

Aemond continued behind them, a low echo against the cobblestone. “...lanta…hāre…”

It was childish, she supposed, but welcomed after the somber family meal earlier this evening. Her brothers then stole away to her chambers, the mischievous grin paired with the suggestion from Aegon that they play hide-and-seek, as they had as children.

But that had been a lifetime ago, long before the internal warfare of the House of the Dragon inevitably spilled its destruction across Westeros.

Her brothers, Daeron as well, had all fought valiantly and victory was had–but at what cost, she often wondered. Rhaenyra was dead, along with their uncle and nephews, and their dragons as well. The smaller children, the ones with the blood of Old Valyria apparent in their veins, had been sent to Old Town with the assurance to raise them with the absolute truth of what happened.

But she knew that the truth would be written by the victors.

Their grandsire served as Lord Hand still, an advocate to reinstate the peace disrupted. This burden shifted on her and her siblings, as Aegon was now king without question, and now the sole focus was to mend the rift between realms, a new age of serenity with his reign. As part of this, their grandsire announced her betrothal to a Northern house, as if she were an olive branch to be extended to the perpetual snow to never be retrieved.

Her pain was written plainly on her lovely features, but their grandsire spoke his words with a sense of finality; it seemed to be no hope to dissuade his mind.

This was how her brothers found her–“Sulking prettily,” Aegon cooed as her handmaiden finished braiding her silver tresses back, dressed already in a pale silk and ready for bed.

Once they were alone, Aegon had brought up this childhood game. What had convinced her, though, was when her twin, Aemond, who was the personified reason knitted amongst them all, seemed almost akin to the idea. His perpetual smirk played at his lips when he offered to be the seeker first.

And now she padded softly along to keep pace with Aegon, breathless, almost gleeful, as they tore through the empty corridors, hands held as they weaved through the silent castle before coming to a door she recognized all too well.

“This is Aemond’s room,” and her voice trailed off with its uncertainty.

Aegon returned his hand to her lower back, his other now grasping onto her forearm. There was a darkness that flickered over his features, but his smirk was quick to brighten, an emotion gone with a heartbeat before she could even register. A coaxing whisper to guide her across the threshold: “This is the one place he would not think us to go.”

It was a room she knew with an intimate familiarity, with an ingress that connected and weaved through the walls, leading back to her own. When they were children, Aemond often would slip into her bed at night, her honeyed tones to soothe him to sleep, and when he had lost his eye, she would go visit with him and listen while Vhagar’s roars reverberated throughout the Keep.

It was tidy, as always, maintained and meticulous, which suited her twin. His musk lingered over, something that was so uniquely his own: the hint of smoke with leather, his skin scrubbed clean with the bath oils gifted from Dorne, the amber and the ash.

It was something that held onto her clothes whenever she would return to her room in the early mornings.

Now, she followed Aegon with timid steps as he moved towards the wardrobe further back, standing tall and solid. He opened to be greeted with the smell of Aemond, mixed with the cedar chips placed to keep the moths away. He then stepped in first, turning to reach for her once he realized her hesitation rooted her to the cobblestone; his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her in, closing the door behind.

It was dark, save the crack between the paneled doors that allowed the bit of golden light from the hearth and the tapers still lit to spill in. Aegon nestled against her, a warmth emitting from him, and her backside flushed against his chest. His one hand moved to her hip while the other began to draw soothing circles against her stomach, an almost tingling sensation through her silk.

She squirmed slightly, an inadvertent hum from his touch; the close proximity and his clashing scent–a soothing mixture of lavender and tea tree oil–caught her breath in her throat. She blushed, her hand fumbling on top of his own, so small in comparison, and he pressed the imprint of his palm to her stomach, the other gripping into her hip bone.

She shivered from his hold, from the warmth that began to pool between her thighs. “Aegon,” she breathed.

He moved to place his hand over her mouth. “Quiet, sister,” and his chin pressed onto her shoulder, his hot whisper tickled with his low baritone and his hold tightened around her waist.

She paused, alert for an indication that Aemond had finally come to the room to find them, but there was only a heavy silence punctuated by the crackle from the fireplace. Aegon burned against her, a pillar of warmth that settled over like a fog, thick with the quiet, almost suffocating in the enclosed space. His hold on her hip loosened and his hand began to trail the flow of silk to the soft divot between her thighs, his fingers moving to trace the outline of her cunt against the thin material.

“Sister,” his tone was dark, but she felt the curl of his lips against her ear. “You are bare beneath this.”

Only his hold on her mouth kept her from reminding him that she had meant to go to bed, but instead she had been caught up in this insipid game–but the thought choked on the fog from his continued motion. His fingers deftly found her slit and he dragged his center digit upwards between, a featherlight touch that seemed to scorch through the length of her spine. She moaned, soft and muted, against his palm.

“Pull up your skirt,” he hissed, moving to cup her cunt fully.

She jolted from his touch, scrambling to bunch the fabric around her hips; the air was cool against her thighs and the wetness between.

Aegon groaned against her skin. “So wet for me, sweet sister,” and he pulled her closer, grinding against her backside, his defined hardness pressing into the softness of her arse.

She mewled and it was muffled still, drawing a dark chuckle of satisfaction from Aegon. “You like that?” and he repeated the movement, his fingers now spreading her silken folds and the silver hair that lined them. “If I remove my hand, will you be a good girl and stay quiet for me?”

His hold only relaxed with the frantic bob of her head and his hand moved to push aside her braid to allow his tongue to run the column of her neck to behind her ear, almost panting against her skin. She shuddered against him. “So soft,” and her skin prickled with the low rumble of his praise, “so wet,” and his one finger curled within, searching until she began to melt, arching against him with a desperation to feel the friction again, his length hard and heavy against.

She pressed backwards and Aegon drew a sharp intake of air before he tilted his chin, his teeth sinking into the junction of her neck, suckling until she left out a small whine, “–Aegon.”

“Quiet,” he hissed again before returning his focus to the curl of his fingers within her velvet walls, to the movement of his hips grinding against. His touch was practiced, precise, and he was now knuckle deep, which allowed the ridge of his palm enough pressure that further ignited the coiled passion building in her lower abdomen.

She gasped with each stroke as he continued his simultaneous ministrations, the mixture of his kisses and nibbles on the curve of her neck, the love bites that would linger but right now brought her to the precipice of something she had never felt before–

–and the doors swung open, where Aemond stood, arms wide, his hair disheveled and his expression unreadable.

Her eyes widened, burning from her embarrassment, burning from her release; she tried to close her thighs, but Aegon pulled it from her, against her own volition and with a startled cry. She trembled from her peak, the flush of color that spilled from her cheeks, to her neck and to her chest, her nipples pressing against the silk and her chest heaving with her labored breath.

Aegon wore his smug satisfaction, pressing a soft kiss to her neck and his eyes never leaving Aemond.

But his sharp features seemed unsurprised by the spectacle. “You are insatiable, brother,” and he grabbed her, pulling her from the confines of the wardrobe. “Your impatience knows no end.”

The silk spilled to cover her leaden legs, her steps staggered but he was quick to catch her. His large palms held her steady, to meet with his bicolor gaze; his sapphire gleamed and his lavender eye trailed her curves, almost admiring. He then dragged her towards the bed, pushing her backwards against it.

“Oh, but I have only prepared her for you,” Aegon continued as he stepped out, his silver hair mussed and his satisfaction bold on his features as he licked his fingers clean.

She wished her voice to not sound so childish with her question. “P-prepare me?”

Aegon tutted condescendingly. “Just as we did with Helaena, and she took us both so well,” he grinned, relishing in the new flush of color that stained her cheeks with the implication of his tone. “You cannot truly believe we would ever allow you to be off to some Northern house as a prize?”

Her heart fluttered with hope, like a captured bird against its cage, and her fingers pressing into the mattress to hold herself upright to look back at Aemond. He stepped closer to touch her, his hand large and warm, his slender fingers sliding to hold the back of her neck, to hold her attention. “I would never allow that,” he vowed, and then he pulled her to stand again.

She had always considered her twin to be handsome, as breathtaking as the sapphire stone he had placed in his scarred socket. It was his melancholy mien that called to her heart; there was a severity that lined his features, that sharpened as the years passed and chiseled away at the remains of his boyhood. After the war was won, she often wondered, she hoped, that she would be given to him, as Helaena had been given to Aegon…

Her eyelashes fluttered when she looked up at him, warming from the close proximity. “Aemond…”

“Trust me,” and Aemond pressed closer.

It was her first kiss and it swept the air from her lungs, his mouth soft and warm and wanting against her own. A soft moan spilled from her and his tongue curled against her own, his gradual pace to allow her time to taste, to allow her own want to begin rekindling within.

Her hands trembled when they reached for his collar, pulling him closer, and he hummed his satisfaction, a vibration throughout; his arm wrapped around the small of her waist, a guiding press back against the bed edge. Her layers of silk were disrobed and puddled on the cobblestone, a heat radiating from her bareness now shown to Aemond and she saw how his pupil swallowed the color of his eye.

Aemond discarded his tunic, his long and lithe form decorated with scars from the Dance of the Dragons, bold colors with some fading to silver. He pressed between her plush thighs, his slender fingers now digging into their softness for hold, pulling her towards the edge until her cunt pressed against the bulge of his trousers.

Another moan spilled from her kiss-swollen lips from the clothed pressure, and Aemond dipped forward, the soft tickle of his silver hair against her skin and his lips trailing the curve of her jaw with an open mouth kiss to the soft divot beneath her ear.

“Lay back on the bed,” was his breathless command.

She trembled to move herself but paused when her eyes darted back to see Aegon in the shadows, still standing, still watching rapt. His tunic was now untucked and showed off the hard peaks of his chest beneath, his hand dipping past his waistline with a slow palming of the length of his shaft, with wine stained blotches on his cheeks.

Aemond captured her mouth, pushing her back onto the bed, his kiss searing with his desperation, his hunger, with the clash of teeth and his tongue curling against the roof of her mouth. She panted, flustered from the attention, flustered with the echo of Aegon’s words–she took us both so well. Even then, plumes of pink bloomed on her pale skin as his kiss stoke the embers of her passion. “Aemond,” she breathed him in, her head light.

He hummed against her neck, moving lower so his mouth could appreciate her curves. He paused at her chest, his tongue flickering over the peaks of her nipples before trailing lower to the soft of her stomach with hot, wet kisses moving towards her core.

She sighed, she squirmed with each placed kiss and as he nestled between, his breath warm against the glisten from her first climax, and her arousal from his touches.

“She tastes so sweet, brother,” Aegon rasped.

Aemond hummed against her cunt, his fingers soft to touch, his lips pressing an intimate kiss to the bloom above her entrance. She arched her back with a sharp cry, sensitive still, and he pinched her thigh.

“Dōna mandia,” his husky tone sent bolts up her spine. “Be quiet.”

Her hands clamped over her mouth as he began to lap the bundle of nerves discovered this night, and he drank her essence unabashedly. His fingers curled within, his touch somewhat similar to Aegon’s but thoughtful, searching until he felt the beginning flutter of her walls. There was the sinful squelch of her wet cunt and she let out a choked sound against her palm, the threat of tears pearling in her eyes–

Then he stopped.

She let out a whine and pushed to her elbows, the flush of rose that tinged her intimately in all the right places, the rise and fall of her chest and her nipples still peaked with her denied pleasure. Aemond watched her, removing his trousers, the hint of satisfaction fleeting with how her eyes widened at the sight of him bare; he then moved to the cradle of her hips, his head dipping with the glisten on his lips and chin, an unfamiliar taste with his sweet kiss.

Aemond pressed against her, hot and heavy. “Sweet sister,” and he sounded apologetic. “This will hurt.”

Once again a hand clamped over her mouth, halting her gasp as he lined to press against her entrance. Aemond groaned into her neck with his gentle thrusts that burned, that stretched as he pushed into her and she writhed pitifully beneath him, the tears now spilling with her muffled sob.

“I know, I know,” his low tone was soothing, his breath tickling the curve of her neck as he continued the slow rut of his hips against her, his hold relaxing for a chaste kiss.

She gasped against his mouth. The burn, the ache dimming with his each thrust and she felt the blossom of a newer sensation that began to trickle through her veins, a coiling passion as he filled her; It was something deeper than neither his hands of Aegon’s reached before. She shuddered against him, her cheeks wet and her fingers curling into his slim hips, his pace rhythmic to her internal flutter pulling her towards an edge.

She let out a soft cry: “Aemond.”

His lips curled and he praised her. “Yes, just like that,” his pace continued, unrelenting. She felt her muscles clenching, spasming with the bloom of her climax spilling through, her sweet moans mixing with his sharp intake of air through his clenched teeth. Aemond stilled his hips, savoring how she shuddered beneath him, her rapid heartbeat and wet eyes that watched him intently.

A whine cut through them both. “Aemond,” and only then did they remember Aegon.

She felt empty when Aemond pulled away, her cresting pleasure fading. The bed dipped as he shifted, his large hands now moving her, coaxing her onto her hands and knees so she now faced the edge of the bed to watch as Aegon moved closer.

He had shed the last of his clothes, his swaggered step that showed his length, his girth, that hung heavy between his thighs. His touch felt clammy against her skin, cupping her jaw and tilting her head back to meet with the glitter of his lilac eyes. “Will you return me the favor?” he mused, his thumb pressing to her lower lip.

Her older brother always held a haunted beauty about him. There were splotches of wine stains, bold on his porcelain skin, and something almost sinister that brimmed beneath the dark shadows that framed his lovely eyes. Aegon watched her, his digit stroking underneath her chin as he watched for her to acknowledge his words.

Behind her, the bed dipped again as her twin moved to place his hands on her hips. Her grip balled into the linen, to try and hold her trembling still; he dragged the tip of his cock through her folds to coat himself in her release, allowing an easier glide as he sheathed back into her cunt; his groan reverberated throughout them both.

She shuddered and felt Aegon squeeze her jaw, looking up at him through the new tears that clung to her eyelashes. “Open your mouth,” was his low command, his hand wrapping around his base and pressing his swollen cockhead to her lips.

It was a tentative taste before she opened to take him bit by bit. “Watch your teeth,” and she widened her jaw, her tongue flattening against the underside of him. “Yes, good girl,” Aegon hissed, his head tilting back.

She gagged when Aemond slammed into her, his hip bones digging into the softness of her arse–this new angle choked a moan from her, and its vibration had Aegon almost giggling. His fingers combed through her silver hair that spilled from the braid, holding her head as he now bucked his hips into her mouth. She gagged again, hollowing her cheeks, saliva spilling from the corners of her mouth and dripping down the sides.

The brothers were in tandem, the brutal pace of her twin and the sensual pull of her hair by Aegon and his large hands. She trembled as she tried her best to balance on one hand, her other trying to wrap around the last bit of Aegon she could not swallow, flushed from the lack of oxygen and her muscles tensing again.

Then it stopped, the satisfying pop as Aegon removed himself from her mouth, an emptiness as Aemond pulled away. She wished to melt into the sheets, but felt hands pulled to straddle the slender waist of Aemond, who was now splayed against the pillows, the flush of color bright on his sharp features. She saw his erection pressed up against his stomach, a glossy sheen of her arousal coating him.

She sighed from his touch, lifting her hips with a soft mewl as he dragged his tip through her silken folds again, allowing her to slowly sink on top with her soft cries. He bucked beneath her, a slow pace to fill and it plumed new pleasure that sparked at her spine, fluttering throughout. Her nipples were rosy and pebbled, her small hands bracing against his chest with the imprint of of red, half-crescent moons littering on his skin.

Aemond moved his hands to cradle her lower back and pulled her forward until she was flushed against his chest. He captured her lips with a renewed fervor, biting her bottom lip, and she whimpered mercifully against his mouth. He broke away and she buried into his neck with a soft kiss, while Aemond gave a silent gesture to Aegon, who retrieved a small vial and palmed himself as he continued watching them.

“You wish to make me feel as good as I made you,” Aegon asked and the bed sank as he climbed onto it, “isn’t that right, sweet sister?”

She twisted to face him, an unintelligible moan to reply as Aemond continued his languid pace beneath her. Her eyes were glassy, soft noises spilling, and there was a movement of silver when she nodded her head.

Aegon hummed with a curl of his lips, moving behind her, pouring more from the vial into his palm. Aemond reached to find her lips again, tightening his hold as she jerked from Aegon’s touch. He made a soothing sound and she relaxed as he slowly circled her rim, a genial coat of oil, so tender it almost tickled.

It stopped and her trepidation fluttered her spine as his thick head pressed against her hole, a searing burn that speared the base as he began to push until he was fully sheathed and flushed against her ass. She trembled and Aegon let out a low groan as he leaned over her, a soft bite and kiss to her shoulder blade. “So tight,” he gasped.

Aemond had stilled his hips, swallowing her cries with his kiss, and only pulling back to lick her tears, his soothing words muted from the roar of blood that was rushing to her ears. He continued to sing small praises while Aegon moved agonizingly slow, his thrusts eventually coaxing a heat in her lower back that began to spread and press to her seams.

Aemond cupped her face to reclaim her attention, her breathy moans fanning his cheeks and her fist knotting into the linen as she shuddered against his chest. He moved his warm palms to her sides, slowly rolling his hips at an alternating pace with Aegon.

The fullness from their hungry, cyclical pace continued the crescendo building in her lower abdomen. It came with sparks of white that flashed before her eyes, the release of that coiled passion flushing her skin with their rhythm. Her tension snapped, painfully, pleasurable, sharing her bones beneath and leaving her weightless with a sobbed release.

She shuddered from the crests of pleasure that continued to crash against her, feeling Aegon’s hips stuttering with his own peak before pulling out his softening cock. And then Aemond gripped into her hips, a biting hold as he rutted upwards to chase after the high, his cock pulsing inside her velvet walls and her lips parting with a wordless cry.

She then crumpled against her twin and he moved her carefully to the side. She was breathless and could feel their pearly seed spilling from her holes and seeping into the linen. Aegon was first to move, to dress and leave the room, but Aemond took a moment, washcloths rung to wipe her clean, taking the time to blow softly on her skin and watch it ripple with gooseflesh.

When he finally finished, he crawled beneath the covers and pulled her against his chest; she sighed as she melted against him, her fingers moving to play with the silver strands of his hair. Her lips pursed a moment. “What do we do now, brother?”

His fingertips stemmed pleasantly against her ribs and she flushed from the vibration of his low hum. “I intend to speak to the Lord Hand tomorrow about making you my wife,” he said as if it was already decided.

Her tongue wet her lips. “What if he is adamant to send me to the North?”

His grin was almost wicked. “Then I will parade these corridors with these very sheets to show you are no longer a maiden,” and he pushed her as she giggled, rolling her onto her back and enjoying the natural spill of her breasts; his narrow waist knitted between her thighs and she sighed, feeling him pressed against the inside of her thigh, heavy and ready once again.

Aemond captured her mouth and his kiss heated her cheeks. He stopped a moment, his tone dark and heady, “I will not be denied. Iksā ñuhon, dōna mandia.”

You are mine, sweet sister. 

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ FLIGHTY

tw. uncle!satoru, incest, age gap, breeding, coercion, dirty talk, praise, brief choking, baby as pet name, some jealousy, degradation, corruption kink, sneaking around wordcount. 6.7k

a/n. ♡ commissioned by the amazing @antique-remains ♡ thank you so so much for commissioning me and for being absolutely wonderful!! i really hope you enjoy your fic,, i had a blast writing it so i kinda went a little crazy with the word count but! hgdfsy listen i hear gojo satoru i jump into the deep end i hooopppee you enjoy it lovely!!! <33 and thanks a million to the beta readers ilY so much

gojo satoru x fem!reader

The door rattles with a loud noise as you make it two steps down the hall. Two whole steps before long arms wrap under your shoulders and you’re whirled around against an equally lanky body, while your giggles fill the hall. They echo down the old family house, pristine and proper, and give your mother a well deserved moment of rest as she rolls the suitcases inside. “Hey- There’s my favorite little squirt,” his lithe voice hums gleefully when you press a childishly sloppy peck onto his cheek and squish your face to his shoulder, and Satoru barely bothers to give your mom a quick smile before stealing your entire attention away and putting you into his neck with a smile.

“You gotta visit more frequently, nee-san. I gotta show my favorite niece what I’ve learned at monster school, don’t I?”

Your chubby cheeks glow hot as you parrot him. “Monster!”

“Your only niece. And you’re more than welcome to take a few babysitting shifts, Satoru. Lord knows I could use it,” the soft-spoken woman would then chuckle, and leave you to it.

That’s how it was, always. You remember finding the days where snow stuck to the ground and made the house feel so much toastier, the most lovely of all- no excuses, no exceptions. Not that you could give a reason as to why, back then. It was probably because winter meant family time and holidays and presents, and most of all, it meant packing everything up into the car and driving down for New Years. Without fail, a white winter meant Gojo Satoru — and without fail, you’d look towards him like a world faithfully orbits the sun.

You can’t thank Satoru enough for taking his role so gracefully, at the time. When it was still fun.

Now winter means being locked up in your room while that same man parades around a different princess each year, and makes your start to the new entirely unenjoyable. After a good few hours of hearing the drinking and talking grow louder and louder -and then eventually quieter again, you finally dare peak your head around the corner. Because if you’re lucky, uncle Satoru will have no self-control. And the copious amounts of alcohol that festivities require will leave him blissfully unaware of your scowl at the foreign pair of shoes by the door. Your bare feet pad on the floor as you make your way past the soft rumble of the tv, and into the kitchen to pop open your own box of cake, and another bottle of bubbles for yourself.

The frosting sticks to the roof of your mouth three bites in, and makes everything a lot more palatable. The smell of the obnoxious festive scented candles, the deep beats of the slow make-out music reverberating through the walls of his otherwise impeccable apartment. The knowledge that you’re meant to wait out the inevitable turnaround from festive cheer to loud moans down the hall as the countdown hits 0. It’s been this way for years now, and you find yourself wishing spring would come a little faster.

You’d never be so lucky, though. You drop the fork in surprise when long fingers sneak around your neck to squeeze gently at the soft parts of it, and a breath brushes over the shell of your ear. “Boo.” Festive cheer and a softer familiar musk overtakes your senses.

“Satoru, you dick,” you squeak out a little too loudly, halfway to turning when a strong arm wraps around your hips to allow him to slot a little closer to your back. He peers over your head at the cake, breath dusting over your hair. Uncaring, of course, about the level of appropriateness or the way it sends a shiver up your spine.

“Bit early for a late night snack, isn’t it? You could at least have asked your favorite authority figure to join you.” His smile gleams in the low light of the apartment like a million diamonds, white head of hair tousled and bed-head like. The hand on your hip squeezes ever so softly before you shake him off, and cross your arms over your chest in defiance.

“You’re barely an authority, let alone my favorite. Besides, aren’t you kept busy with… Keiko? Kyoko?”

“—Kimiko. Why?” It’s then you make the mistake of looking up into those perfect baby blues through the half-tinted shades, and despite your earlier frostiness, he still searches for a handhold on your shoulder, softly brushing his thumb along the collar of your shirt. He stares like he can see through you, where your heart beats wildly in your chest. You’d dare bet money that sometimes he definitely tries to. But the calculating glances that flick over your face are kept quiet by a faint hum.

“She’s gone home. I thought maybe we could celebrate New Years together this time.” Satoru is always smiling. It crinkles his eyes, seems to ooze out of him like syrup. He’s good at that. At feeling trustworthy. But— “We still have a good twenty minutes until the fireworks. Come celebrate. For me?” There’s no mistaking the way he leans in to nudge your face up and puts on an exaggerated puppy-like pout. Gojo Satoru is anything but trustworthy.

But hard lessons are slow to stick. You find your mouth opening almost like instinct, sugar-coated tongue running over your lips as he waits. “Fine, until after the fireworks. Only ‘til then.” His mouth corners go a little more cat-like when the grin grows further, and he rubs his heavy palm and long fingers over your head with a soft chuckle.

“Right? You’d never leave your poor old, lonely uncle Satoru alone on a special day, right?”

The couch is abandoned for a slower sort of swinging around the living room once the clock starts getting close, and Satoru places another flute of golden bubbles into your hand— grinning as you move to the beat. Try and resist as you may, Satoru has given you much to be thankful for. The heat of his hand back on your head distracts you from the way the drink goes down too quickly, letting him pick your hand into his to pull you closer. “Have you ever slow danced before, pretty girl?”

You don’t get to say anything before you’re in his arms, hands to his chest and quickly sliding down to wrap around him instead, swallowing down the stirring heat that hits when he chuckles. You must be crazy. Must be. Your heart feels like it’s banging in your throat. But Satoru rests his chin on your head into the embrace, and swallows you up into his arms. And your throat burns like a raging fire yet again. It isn’t like that. It isn’t like that. You’re the one making it weird, and you know it. But you can’t help the goosebumps when he presses a kiss to your crown, or when he pauses to look down at you.

Grinning like he’s got the world in his palm, he leans in to almost brush noses with you. “This is kinda romantic, isn’t it?”

“Gojo Satoru,” you immediately feel the warmth flare up on your cheeks and ears, eyes going wide. But the grin is back instantly, and he chuckles.

“Alright, don’t get your panties into a twist.” The air of his breaths dusts over your nose when he stares, and doesn’t look away. “You’re so obvious when you want something. It’s cute.” He’s awfully, disturbingly pretty. However weird it is to notice that about your own mom’s brother… you never were able to lie yourself out of that conclusion.

The clock ticks loudly, counting down. But you can’t tear yourself away, blinking blankly at the way he gives your face a once over, before those eyes find yours. Glittering brilliantly, pulling at your sanity. You did always adore him. The first few fireworks go off loud in the distance, when your own uncle Satoru dips down and kisses you. You freeze. Warm lips and tongue pressing into your mouth- he full-on kisses you and runs a hand along your neck to pull you into him. A muffled squeak makes it’s way out of you, warm tongue getting to taste all of him. You- you don’t stop it. When he pulls back, his mouth lingers over yours, and that devilish mouth whispers, “happy New Year, baby,” without any ‘sorry’s.

+

The flowers are already starting to bloom in the colorful pots that swing outside the windows when you nurse your own cup of tea, and don’t bother lowering your eyes when bright azures meet your gaze. There’s something there that tingles your tongue, faint memories biting at your conscious, but too swift to grab hold of. You can’t read him anymore. It makes the familiar glint in them feel anxiety inducing. The gaze shifts, and you feel your spine relax. All tall, perfect, unfairly casual grandeur of him goes back to entertaining your cousins and Megumi— and your attention is finally allowed to shift back to your mom.

“Deary me… That child seems like he’ll never grow up,” she softly chimes, turning your way to take your hands, “I bet you’re twice the adult he is.” Her slight frown is one of fondness though, of care and concern; all of which only makes your stomach drop further. Your mom’s so enamored with her tight-knit little dream of a family. She’s completely unaware, too. Of the deadly, treacherous words that your mind whispers to you when it knows no one’s watching. Your mother’s warm smile remains. “If you ever decide you can’t keep up with him anymore, you’re more than welcome to move back home, honey.”

“I know, mom— but I like Tokyo. I like my friends here, and- my job’s here, and I like my job.” Her hand makes an encouraging circle over the back of your hand, and she nods.

Her warm smile doesn’t keep away the cold flare that travels down your back though. “And you also like Satoru, for reasons I still can’t wrap my head around.” Her look over in his direction has you resolutely studying your lap instead, as heat travels back from your chest to your face. “Even when you were little, your uncle ‘Toru could do no wrong. It was infuriating at times…” You try to put on a smile when you feel her eyes return back to you, and let the cup bear the brunt force of your anxiety. “Now I just think it’s sweet. I know I couldn’t deal with his antics anymore, for even a few days.”

“He’s…” You trail off before you can even get started, and let your tongue swipe along your bottom lip to get rid of the pesky memory again. You feel like your moral compass has been compromised. Your stupid little crush was meant to go unacknowledged, and fade. No one was supposed to be any the wiser. Satoru was never meant to do wrong. He’s -what- exactly, you try to ask yourself. Sneaky? Childish? The reason you can’t look your own family in the eye without blushing like a schoolgirl?

Your heart blooms when you catch a glimpse of his smile as the beer bottle brushes his lips, and he finds your shape again across the room.

Before you get a chance to look away, uncle Satoru’s already calling your name again with that sing-songy tone that’s got you hooked; and pulls you out of your seat with a few slow blinks. “There’s my favorite girl.” He swings an arm over your shoulders, and invades your senses yet again. “It’s getting a little too stuffy in here for your liking, hm? Mind if I steal her for a while?” His sister barely gives him the tiniest of eyerolls before waving you both off. And the white-haired force of nature doesn’t even stop to ask you. He knows he’s right.

Before long, the glances of family get captured by other things, and the honorary member of your family gives you a knowing look that you mirror. Not that Satoru would let it stop him if he saw. You only just look away from Megumi’s grimace before you freeze into place. There’s the tiniest of kisses to the skin behind your ear where Satoru whispers in your ear. “I was really missing you, baby.” There’s a heat that spreads all over you as he continues, barely hiding his affections. “Whenever I see you… I just wanna…”

Your eyes go wide when you turn to stare at him, then quickly around at the rest of the guests. Luckily, everyone seems too preoccupied to notice the way he wraps his arm around your waist to steer you towards the front door. “What? I wasn’t done.” he chimes, eyes glinting over like the Chesire cat, “I wanna come annoy you, is what I was going to say.” Alarm bells should go off. You want them to signal your disaster. But no such thing happens, and the way his lips almost drag over your pulse makes your entire body feel like you’re filled with static. “You know uncle Satoru loves you. Step out with me for a bit.”

+

The miserable drum of rain has no way of drowning out the thoughts in your head. A heat-caused thunderstorm should just be a minor inconvenience, but it feels awfully telling about your current state. The string of messages of Satoru’s latest -what you can now assume is- ex blink back at you as you check the time again, and sink deeper into the couch. The apartment always feels a little too cold when you’re here alone. And sure, you’ve been living here too, but you’ve been on your very best behavior all this time. Taking up only the space he was willing to give.

So you sit in silence as the room gets darker and darker, and instead of checking up on work mails, you let the icy silence of the apartment sit beside you. The messages weren’t exactly frantic, but— the door clicks softly across the room, and the pitter patter of the rain on the skylight grows even more impatient. “Uncle ‘Toru,” you breathe as he drags his wet self in, only to suck your bottom lip into your mouth.

There’s only a few times you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing him like this. One was the first summer his best friend vanished into thin air, a shallow copy of your beloved left behind in its wake— and every few years after that. It drains all the color out of him, squeezes until there’s nothing left.

He looks drunk. He smells drunk too. But you still cross your arms and straighten your back, swallowing. “Ki-chan was worried about you. She says you two broke-”

“She’s right.” Satoru drops his bag by the tv, and unceremoniously kicks off his socks in the middle of the living room, slauntering towards the couch.

“Is that why you’re like this?” Your worry is undermined by a harsh snort and an equally unamused chuckle, before the white-haired man comes to a halt before you.

“Don’t be stupid. You and I both know it’s not.” His eyes are usually like the ocean on a summer day, bright, all-consuming, and peaceful— there’s nothing there when they land on you now. Just the dark, dreary image of a cloudy, uncaring vastness. “Get up, I’m trying to sleep here for the night.”

“I’m not leaving.” You’re not sure if the slight tremble in your voice is self-inflicted, but do your best to bite through the electric tension. “She also said that you’ve been saying all kinds of things that make no sense. Things about— me. And that’s why you guys broke up. She’s worried that you might try to do something to me.” Gojo Satoru is a lot of things. More things than a man with his constitution should be, all in all. Your light breath cuts the tension just enough for you to speak up again, staring up at him from your increasingly vulnerable position on the couch. “Well, will you?”

“Get up.” Before you have another chance to ask more, he takes you by the arm and pulls you up out of the couch in a split second, leaving you stumbling back. “Run off to your room now.” Smart, coherent thoughts leave you. Satoru looks like he’s hurting. Those long, white lashes and blue irises are no longer bright and understanding. They frame a simple look of distaste at the sight of you, and your rapid heartbeat falters. “I said, now.” As your tongue brushes your lips you search for something— anything— to say, but it seems he doesn’t want to let you. With large steps, he walks you back by your collar until your back hits the wall, and you stare up at him.

“Isn’t it bad enough that I already want you? What more do you need?” The cold, still wet touch of his thumb brushing your collarbones tingles down your entire body. “Tell me off. Hit me. Do something.” He’s basically begging now, through hard glares, teeth and a raspy voice. “Tell me off for treating you like this.”

You think you should. But all that you manage to say is a soft plea, eyes searching in the dark. “Uncle Satoru, I- I’m sorry.”

“Baby.”

His grip makes your shirt dig uncomfortably into your neck, but you barely feel it. Instead you raise your hands to cup his face, watching how the furrowed brows straighten out after only a few tight breaths. You mumble out a breath of his name, and allow him to pull you closer to his body until you’re pressed to his chest, face hidden against his collarbones. Until he leads you to look up at him and lets his lips brush over your eyelids, and the tip of your nose. “Your mom would kill me if she knew.”

You know him to be right. And still, you let his mouth meet yours. Meet and claim your tongue, hiking your one thigh up to allow him to melt against you. Rolling his narrow hips just a little too effectively against you. It’s way too much all at once, hot and cold meeting in the dark where his body grinds against you. You shouldn’t… allow any of this, right? But it feels too good to stop. Satoru clearly thinks so too when he grunts your name against your mouth, and his crotch rubs into your center.

It’s not hard to know what he’s thinking about as he drags his lips down the soft of your throat and sucks kisses into the skin. His strong fingers slide under your shirt to anchor at your waist, and leave goosebumps all over. “My pretty girl,” he ends up mumbling as his tongue makes shapes at the base of your throat, “you’re all mine. All fucking mine. Mh- never gonna let anyone have you.” It feels so good. Hearing that, however distorted by the moment— makes you feel like you’re floating. So much so, that it scares you. To think anyone would have such power over you.

Satoru goes in for another kiss, but you end up sliding out of his arms by mere chance, panting and shivering from the wet hands all over you. You take one single deep breath, and rush off down the hall.

+

When you sit at dinner the next day, rolling your veggies around your plate as you cast him weary glances from under long lashes, Satoru doesn’t falter. Doesn’t even blink out of place once, like the night before was just a dream. You’d really believe the slight ache of a hickey at the base of your throat to be an unlucky bruise, if you couldn’t notice the faint glances your way. After a while, his telltale grin slips back on when you startle at his voice, and he points his fork towards you. “You’re acting weird, you know that?”

“I- I’m acting weird?” Your voice pitches up almost comically, and his gleeful chuckle has your heart racing despite yourself. “W- about yesterday-”

“I’m taking you somewhere tonight.” Though the interruption should annoy you, he looks so content and smug as he stuffs the last of his food into his cheek, that you can only frown. His hand runs through his mess of white hair, noisily smacking his food as if to make a point. When you don’t immediately respond, he nods to himself, before leaning in. “I woke up with the worst headache of my life, I’ll have you know. But I’ve gotten over myself, I promise. And now I just want to hang out with my favorite niece.”

“Only niece,” you end up parroting, clenching and unclenching your hands into your skirt. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Call me ‘uncle ‘Toru’ again, and I’ll tell you.” You never tell him no.

As you walk through the hall with slow steps, the light falls like broken petals through the paper walls and casts everything in a hazy glow. For all your protests, uncle Satoru follows close behind, chirping all kinds of encouragements, giggling most of the way through. The lazy patterns he draws on your shoulders with his thumbs, or the brief brushes of his nose along your cheek, kisses behind your jaw— it all should make you feel a lot guiltier than it does. Instead you’re just wound up, skin tingling with every touch the longer it lasts.

“Are you gonna tell me why we’re here now?”

He hums that melodic agreement, before pointing you towards the rather familiar door at the right. “If you go in there, I will.” At your slight frown, he only presses on. “I promise. Come on, trust your favorite uncle.”

“You’re not my favorite.”

His voice grows low as his lips brush your ear, and those strong arms start gliding down the sides of your back. “Liar.” The kiss that is pressed to your pulse is slower this time, humming in your throat and making you swallow your words. His mind hasn’t changed after you ran out. Instead of focusing on that- on him, you reach for the door and slide it open, finding your and Satoru’s room barely changed at all. His hands come to press at the sides of your hips, long fingers trekking all over the skin he can reach. “I’ve been thinking for a while now…” His playful voice dips a little lower, and your breathing grows slower and slower. “I always meant it when I said you were my favorite... but-”

“But it’s a little different now, hm, pretty girl? When did you change so much?” Those hands that start sliding up along your thighs to hike your skirt up to your belly, and though you try to keep it down with a little breath, he denies it. “You don’t like it? That I wanna see all of you?” The little hum to your soft throat makes you feel like you’re charged to the brim, crackling each time he moves. It’s unbearable, and yet, you couldn’t move a muscle if you tried. “Tell me that I’m a bad guy.”

You can’t focus on anything. His nimble fingers toy with the edge of your panties, and the puff of his breath sends a shiver down your neck. “W-why’d you take me to our old- ah- place?” Satoru doesn’t wait for you to catch up before the frilly fabric drags along your thighs. Your awfully wet underwear lands around your feet, and he leans in to nudge your face to his. Kissing you over your shoulder as his body covers you from behind, and his waist pushes up against you. His tongue steals your attention away from his hands just long enough to lose track of them before they’re on your tits, squeezing them and making your cunt clench in anticipation.

“Because I wanted to prove something.” He rolls his clothed waist against your ass and makes that awful feeling even worse, forcing a whimper out of you. And that mind-numbing fucking laughter returns before his hands start moving to your center. You’re not sure if you want to push him away or ride his fingers with the slow drag of rough fingertips along the inside of your legs— not that it’s up to you anyway. “You’re no longer that good girl that’d idolize uncle Satoru, right? You’ve started thinking about other things when I’m around, hm?”

Fingers slide through the embarrassing amount of wetness between your legs with another noise from him, pressing his hardening cock harder against you and grinding it against you- and you have to fight the urge to just get face down on the floor for him. “F-fuck, baby, you’re already dripping all over my hand. Does uncle ‘Toru turn you on?” Two prodding digits slide into your clenching hole as he grins against your cheek, and his free hand meanly pinches a nipple. “C’mon, tell me. Tell me how much you like me.”

“Mh-ack, I- li-like you.” He goes to pull his hand back but you reach for it, and push it back inside to have his hand palm rubbing up against your clit. “A lot, I like you a lot! Please.” The curl of his long fingers inside you is enough to have you shaking, leaning back against his chest with one shoulder, and hanging onto his wrist. It doesn’t take much to have him smiling into the hickey he’s sucking under your jaw, and fighting back your resistance just enough to start pushing another finger inside. The slight ache is almost instantly replaced with the pleasure of having your clenching pussy filled so full. Everything blurs a little when you reach back for him for support, and his strong hand fucks smoothly in and out of you. “Mhm, ah, ah, I love my uncle Satoru. Sa. To. Ru.” Slick runs down your leg and makes his entire hand sticky, and he hums in agreement.

“That’s a good little niece. Love riding my fingers like this? You’re shaking, baby.” He knows what it does to you, must’ve known for a while, when his voice is pressed to your skin— it leaves you a mess. You try to respond, but your tongue gets all tangled, and you can only whimper and nod as his fingers fuck right into the spot you need them to. Your back curls against him as your legs get shakier, and your poor clit is grinded against his palm until you can’t focus on anything else. It feels so good. Good, good, good, good~ You want to keep riding his fingers forever.

“Lay down for me,” he rasps when you really start rubbing back against his hand, pussy so messy and full and your lips glossy with spit— and you almost cry when he starts pulling back.

“No, no no nonono, uncle Satoru, please. I’m close,” you squeak, only to allow him to push you down by your shoulder and watch as he slots his fingers between pink lips. “Hm- I- can I cum? Please?” Your thighs rub together as you lay down, and Satoru kneels before you to pry them open wide enough to fit his shoulders between.

“Shh, lift your ass,” he quickly chants, getting comfortable between your legs as his hands pry you open, “let me taste my favorite pussy the way I want.” His devilish mouth is on you before you can register it, hot and instantly too much. Your puffy clit is laved in licks and sucks that hit the spot just right, and every nerve end fires in a way that no one else could ever accomplish. His hums and the brilliant glint of his eyes as he watches you tear up and moan, lifting your ass closer to his face as his tongue licks and fucks your dripping pussy. He laughs when eating you out so good your eyes cross, before latching his mouth around your overstimulated nub for real, and sucking the light out of your vision.

Your legs shake before you’re clenching them around his head with a long, high-pitches whimper and a string of moans that roll through your body— and Satoru just keeps going, until you’re twitching and you try to push him away. Your breathing is rapid and shallow as you blink the black spots on your vision away and loosen the grip you have on his hair, but your legs still shake as he brushes his thumb over your pussy without pity. “That’s one. Wanna see how many more I can get you to?”

“No,” you immediately squeak, making his smug grin grow even wider. “I wanna… first, wanna have you- i-inside.” Admitting it is different than thinking it. And you’ve thought it, too much to count- but it still heats your cheeks and ears upon seeing the way Satoru’s lashes flutter a little, and he pushes his pants down to take his flushed cock out.

“Yeah? You want your uncle Satoru’s big cock inside you?” His hand wraps around his thick length with a little hiss, sliding his hand over the swollen, dark pink tip as you watch. “Say it properly, and I’ll give it to you.” You roll onto your side to yank your shirt up over your tits, and impatiently shake your ass as you whine out a noise that barely seems to register as you. But you can’t help it. The buzz from your orgasm only made your belly hotter, slicking up your legs and ass and dripping for him- as he sits up on his knees so slide his pants down further.

“Satoru~ please.” His hand moves up and down a few times as he raises a brow, and knocks away your hand when you try to touch yourself. “Please, please, puh-lease~” Your voice cracks when you lay back instead, and knead your tit as you try to pull him closer by wrapping your legs around him. “I want to have- uncle ‘Toru’s cock. I want to have my own uncle’s cock, I love my uncle- and I want- to be his personal pussy to use~” Tears spring up in the corners of your eyes, so you close them. “Now please just put it in. I’ve waited long enough-”

A little chuckle breaks up your begging before he kisses you deep and greedily, and suddenly the hot head of his cock pushes up against your sopping entrance. “Want it so bad you gotta cry about it? Poor baby.” He just about pushes in the slightest bit, and takes a slow breath to stare into your eyes. Pretty. So fucking pretty, all of him. “Sorry I made you wait. Uncle will fill this little niece's pussy up, don’t worry.” Then he pushes in with a slow press on your tummy that makes you blink back tears, as his heavy, hot cock breaks you open a little further, along with your sanity.

The smack when he bottoms out is a brief relief, before he pulls back and uses those strong legs to start really fucking into you, nose to nose. “Letting your own family fuck your greedy pussy like this, look at you. I’m a bad influence, hm?” The weight of him, the brushing of his pelvic bone to your clit, the grip on your thigh and brushing of your tits and every brief brush of his lips over yours is enough to have that coil pull back so tight in your stomach too quickly. You dig your nails into his muscular back as each pap of his balls smacking against your slick-covered ass rings out in the room, and the white-haired man hums. “Uncle Satoru’s your favorite, say it. That you’ll beg for my cock until you go hoarse.”

He presses his nose to your temple, and pants against you- fucking with a rhythm that’s taking the breath out of you. You’re already going to cum again. “Say that you want uncle Satoru’s kids filling up your belly, ahg- go on— mhm, that tight, t-tight fucking pussy.”

“Yes, yes, I want my uncle’s cum inside! My favorite uncle’s ruining my pussy!” you squeak, and then cry out against his neck. “I’m gonna cum again, uncle ‘Toru. G-gonna- agh-ughn- p-please don’t stop.” The thrusts get even deeper if that’s at all possible, lifting your one leg up to grind the head of his cock against your cervix with the position he’s got you in, and goes to cup your pussy. And even that slight touch is enough to have your vision going black and white, head blanking as another orgasm rolls over you and locks your leg around his hips— but the fucking doesn’t stop even then. “Agh-mygodI-ah, ahgh-nh. Uncle Satoru.”

It’s too much, you’re entirely too hot and sweat is rolling down your temple and his chest, but his cock still drives home over and over again like he’s willing to break you in half. You don’t want him to ever stop. “Hearing that filth coming out of your mouth- ugh, mhm, makes me want to keep fucking you forever. For eternity.” His waist bumps your overstimulated clit each time he bottoms out, ring of white around the base of his cock before he throws his head back and moans out your name. “You can’t ever let anyone know how much uncle Satoru loves fucking his little niece, okay? F-fuck. How much I love ruining that little attitude of yours.”

Your both knees are pushes to your shoulders as he moves up, pulling out just a second to fuck between the sloppy lips of your pussy. “Been wanting to fuck you since you moved in. Can’t help but get hard when you’re around. Bad uncle ‘Toru, right?” The head of his cock is so swollen and flushed and dripping with your mixed juices, and he stares at you through narrowed, perfect eyes as he pushes back in and watches his cock disappear into the hot clutch of your pussy, swallowing it up like a whore. His lip is pulled between his teeth as he groans, and fucks harder and faster into you like you’re barely a toy. “But I don’t care. Uncle’s gonna fuck this pussy every day from now on. My pussy. Mine.”

You can feel him in your throat with the way he pounds your pussy until you’re raw, squeezing your throat between his long fingers as his heavy balls hit you. And his mouth covers yours, tongues back together and spit messily covering your chin by the end of it. You don’t think eternity will be enough.

+

There’s some kind of failsafe inside every human, isn’t there? And yours is simply malfunctioning at the wrong times.

The woman hanging off his arm is lovely. Mina, you think it is. She’s smart and pretty and accomplished, and her hair has that perfect commercial shine as it bounces around her shoulders. And Satoru is laying on the sweetness thick, from what you can make out between the giggles and shiny smiles. Underneath the obnoxious shades hiding his pearly gaze from direct view as he makes quick work of scanning the beach. It sits in your stomach with an uncomfortable rumble. Even though you know… It’s for show. It’s all just for show.

You do your best not to frown when he looks back over his shoulder for a second to drag his eyes over you. “We should play beach volleyball!”

And a soft chuckle from the person by your side agrees when you can’t be bothered to. “You got it!” The blond is smart enough to give you a softly encouraging grin that makes you feel vindicated in your exasperation, before you stick up your own thumb. You have no intention of watching Satoru leave hot handprints all over her skin. The young man beside you clearly notices your hesitation, because he smoothes a palm down your spine to straighten you up a little, before blowing out a long breath that makes you smile. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’ll keep him busy if you’d rather lay in the shade for a little longer.”

Kenji’s fingers softly brush along the small of your back, then teasingly slips them under the knot of your bikini, as his mouth comes to hover over your ear. “Or we could sneak away for a little bit and…”

“And get caught for indecent exposure?” you giggle over your shoulder instead of letting him kiss you, and grab for one of the books that had gone untouched earlier in the day to tap it on his head. “We can’t,” you breathe with a smile, and watch as he takes that as a challenge. Really, you’re not one for fighting fire with fire. That’s Satoru’s play, and you don’t have any intention of mistreating anyone. But … the adoring gazes and personal attention does make the whole ordeal a lot easier to stomach. So easy even, that you’re down in the toasty sand with him above and your chest rising and falling rapidly for a few blissful seconds, before the volleyball hits the both of you on the sides.

Your eyes snap over to the head of white hair when he clears his throat, and holds his hands up in mock apology. Serene, picture-perfect smile plastered on his handsome face. You click your tongue, and you can’t hold back the angry echo of his name in your head as he walks up. “Sorry, sorry, my bad! You guys coming or what?” This whole song and dance is just— so frustrating. Despite your best effort to keep it in, a slight tick in your brow still makes its way onto your face.

“You guys start without me,” you breathe after a few seconds of staring Satoru down, allowing Kenji to pull you up from the sand to dust you off. “I’m going to go grab the sunscreen and the coolers from the car.” Kenji makes an attempt to stand, but you wave it off in favor of putting some space between you and the tallest as his crystal eyes drill holes through you. “No, I got it. Thanks though.”

By the time Satoru’s “girlfriend” walks up and slips underneath his arm, he raises a brow your way, and the glitter in his eyes makes you convinced that he knows just as well as you do. You do your best to ignore him — them, but you can still feel the sting of him appraising you through those stupid shades. Asshole. You swing your hips as you walk away, kicking up sand every time your slippers bounce up.

At least the short walk allows for a moment to cool off, and collect your thoughts. There’s no sense in getting fed up. He’ll just get home and start cracking jokes like always, pretending like he didn’t do something wrong in the first place. Nevertheless, you allow yourself only a short sigh and admittance of defeat in the little game you play as you click the trunk closed again.

Before you turn and walk into a solid chest, almost scaring you skittering back against the hot surface of the car. Large hands descend on you, one to wrap around your waist and the other covering your mouth- before he leans down further into your space. “So, so grumpy all the time.” Uncle Satoru’s rough handpalm slides down to grab a handful of your ass before he lowers his face to yours into a languid kiss, tongue tasting vaguely like strawberry as he drags it over yours with a hum. “Stop trying to make me jealous.”

“I’m— I’m not! And ‘m not grumpy. I just don’t want to see you,” you end up breathing out, wrapping your arms instinctively around his broad shoulders when those long fingers start toying with your pussy through the awfully flimsy fabric. “Satoruuu~”

His chuckle is matched with the impatient way he rubs two fingers up and down along your slit, and slides his other hand down your smooth stomach to start peeling it all off. “Call me uncle Satoru, c’mon baby. You know what I like.”

You barely have a chance to place your hand over your mouth to keep quiet as he noses your bikini top out of the way to drag his pink tongue languidly over your puffy bud— and those baby blues find you through wispy, white lashes. “Uncle ‘Toru, unc-cle ‘Ru— You’re gonna get us caught.” He sucks part of it into his mouth and leaves a mean mark with his teeth, before grinning.

“Hmm. I don’t care.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[inkareds]

To Someone from A Warm Climate

Rhaenyra Targaryen (F! Reader)

8/10 - Unreal Unearth Event

nav // event masterlist // hotd m.list // ko-fi

✧.* word count: 6.1k ✧.* genre: GAYYYY GAY GAY GAY ✧.* warnings: irrelevant ass warning, I wrote this when I was sick at 2am on a fuck ton of stomach medicine! It is unedited and I don't know how it looks! I refuse to re-read it! Also female reader and like it kinda ooc for the Stark family and stuff.

"A joy, hard learned in winter was the warming of your bed // In summer's heat, I learned to dread, the comin' of the night"

What's better than a comforting friend in the cold?

Also quick info just in case people don't know: Rickon Stark and Gilliane Glover are Cregan's parents, Rickon has a brother named Bennard Stark who had 3 sons, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric.

(ps I have not watched the new episodes so I don't know how they handled Cregan and Jacaerys there)

“You seem cold, princess.” Rhaenyra quickly turned her head around at the voice.

You politely bow when she meets your gaze. 

“Alas, it seems the north’s climate is not for me.” She answers as you smile at her words. 

“It rarely is for people from the south.” Walking closer to her you introduce yourself. “Lord Bennard’s youngest bastard.” 

Rhaenyra’s face morphed into that of a confused wonder at your brazen statement. 

“I did not see you when Lord Rickon introduced his house, Lady Snow-”

“I am neither a lady nor part of the great House Stark, addressing me by my first name is enough, princess.”

Rhaenyra chuckled as you moved closer towards her. Truth be told, you didn’t think you’d be received as warmly as you are now by Rhaenyra. 

You had heard of the news that the princess would conduct her tour to find a suitor across Westeros a while ago. Of course, it would take ages before she arrived in Winterfell, but now that she was here it felt surreal. 

Just a few hours ago you were able to sneak around The Great Keep within Winterfell Castle to be able to see the princess’ first introductions towards your family. Lord Rickon Stark, your uncle, introduced himself and his younger brother, your father, Bennard Stark, as well as his sons, your half-brothers, Benjen, Brandon, and Elric Stark. Being a bastard, you weren’t allowed to attend this formal event, though that didn’t mean you couldn’t spy on them. 

The princess was radiant, despite her long travels, she was still able to keep her head held high and regality was clear in the way she spoke. Though the Lady Stark, Gilliane Glover warned you on approaching the princess, fearing what your father’s punishment to you would be, you couldn’t help yourself. 

So now you find yourself here, side by side next to the princess, talking as carelessly as you usually would. 

“Where are your knights, princess? I didn’t expect you to walk around unattended.” You looked around not seeing any guards around her, including the tall one who seemed to follow her around everywhere. 

“I sent them away, for the time being, I’d like to enjoy the snow alone.” 

She smiled at you as you understood what she meant, nodding and taking a few steps back you spoke, “Ah, I see, forgive me then. I shall leave you to your devices.” 

That was when she laughed, a sound so melodic you now understood why they called her the Realm’s Delight. 

“Apologies, I do not mean you, I mean alone away from men. After my long tour, I bore at the sight of many of them tripping over themselves trying to win my favour.” Hearing that you picked yourself back up and placed yourself back by her side. 

“I do not blame them, if I were a Lord from a noble house, I would swear my land, blood, and soul for you.” From the corner of your eye, you see the young princess open her mouth ever so slightly to say something, before looking back out into the falling snow. 

“Are you enjoying the summer snow, Your Highness?” 

“Summer?” Rhaenyra sputtered, “I’m afraid it is far too cold for summer.” 

She turned towards you with an expression of disbelief, but you only laughed and stepped out from the shade over you into the snow. Rhaenyra watched as the light snow trickled onto your many furs and hair, all the while you reached out to grab some on your naked hand. 

“Would you mind taking off one of your gloves, Your Highness?” 

Confused but intrigued, Rhaenyra took off her glove on her right hand, as you placed some of the snowflakes on her open palm. Holding her hand in both of yours so that she wouldn’t be too cold without the glove you began explaining. 

“The North is cold, far too cold for any real summers that I’m sure you experience. But when winter comes, the snowflakes will be sharper and harder to the touch.” Rhaenyra lightly crushed the snowflakes in her hands, feeling them melt almost immediately. “Summer snow, on the other side, is softer and wetter. It melts the moment your body heat touches it. And it only happens in the morning such as now. By noon, all the snow will be gone and the farmers will start tending to their crops.”

Rhaenyra intently listened as you explained. She was far too young last she went to The North, all she remembered was the everlasting cold the entire time she was there with her father and late mother. How she used to pout as a mere toddler due to the chill. 

Thinking back on it a shiver ran through her. You took notice of this and immediately wiped the melted snow from the princess’ hands and urged her to quickly use her glove again. 

“I mustn't keep forgetting how cold Southerners get this far North. If you will allow me, princess, I know a place in The Great Keep where it should be warmer, while simultaneously allowing you to still enjoy the view.” 

You had expected Rhaenyra to politely decline your invitation, you’d been acting far too forward with her and you wondered when you’d be reminded of the difference in your status. But, surprising you, and herself, Rhaenyra agreed, her want for warmth overpowering her duties. Knowing right now she should be returning to her chambers and readying herself for a feast with the Starks. 

But she couldn’t help herself be led by the bastard girl with too few sugar-coated words. You led her through mazes of hallways you grew up in, looking to your side now and again to watch Rhaenyra wonder at the sheer size of Winterfell. The castle was big, you knew that much, and from what little Gilliane Glover was able to teach you behind your father’s back, you heard it was almost three times bigger than the Red Keep where the princess resided. 

When you finally reached where you wanted the air was much warmer than it had been and it had stopped snowing. 

“Touch the walls,” you instructed the princess as you gracefully leaned on one. 

Rhaenyra reached to touch the cobblestone walls, it was surprisingly warm to the touch, almost hot in certain parts. Despite where they are, a simple hallway which opens to the outside. The view was breathtaking. A large tree was in sight and plants flourished on the ground. Colourful wildflowers of all shades of blue, purple, and pink decorated the landscape. 

“How can the wildflowers grow here?” She asked. 

“Do you see over there? The smoke?” you pointed out not so far out, and truth be told there was some billowing smoke. “Those are the springs which Winterfell is built around. I can’t take you there as a lot of servants and maids are there to care for it. But it is the warmest place in all of the north. The waters there are then distributed through pipes all within the walls to warm the castle.” 

Seeing the way Rhaenyra kept listening, you continued, rather happy to have someone to talk to other than maids or servants twice your age. 

“This area of the castle is where most of the main pipes converge, that’s why it’s the warmest. Aside from the solar and the Starks’ bed chambers.” 

“It is still awfully cold.” Rhaenyra muses, though with the way she grinned you suspected she was just jesting. So, you chuckled. 

“I guess, I wouldn’t know. The cold is all I ever known.” You spoke with a smile, staring out into the plants swaying lightly against the wind. 

Hearing this, the young princess looked at you with her brows furrowed. 

“Have you not left the North? Surely you must, as Lord Bennard’s daughter I assumed you are well traveled.” 

You shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek, wondering how to explain your predicament to the princess without souring the mood. 

“I assume you think this way because I’m living here rather than discarded like most bastards are?” Rhaenyra’s silence was telling, “Lady Gilliane Glover was the one who took me in after she found out of my existence. I assume she wanted another lady in the castle, considering she has no child of her own and my father has all sons.” 

You fiddled with your fingers out of general nerves. You did not want to sadden the princess or make her uncomfortable with your sob story. You’ve accepted it, but it seems anyone you’ve told it to have been pitiful about it. 

“Despite my father’s wishes, she took me in.” You told her honestly.  “I have no titles nor duties, I’m simply here to accompany the lady.” 

You finally lifted your head to smile at Rhaenyra. Truth be told, you wondered at times what would happen to you once the lady passes or once she has a child of her own. Alas, what happens in the future will stay a mystery until it comes. 

Feeling the silence to be slowly stifling, you broke the sullen atmosphere. 

“But I wouldn’t know where to go even if I had the chance to travel. What do you recommend princess? Where do you like to go? I’m sure you’ve been on a lot of adventures on your great dragon.” 

At the mention of Syrax, a soft smile crept its way onto Rhaenyra’s expression. Causing your heart to skip a beat. 

“Dragonstone.” she stated without much thought. “It overlooks the sea, you could hear the waves crash against stone as you slumber, it is comforting.” 

Before you can ask further about Dragonstone, her ancestral seat, Lady Giliane Glover rushes into the area. 

“Your Highness, I didn’t expect to find you here.” She quickly bowed before her gaze met towards you. 

You bashfully avoid her questioning gaze, knowing you’re up for an earful once she gets you alone. Lady Gilliane had always reminded you to keep your head low, afraid that you may invoke your father’s anger and get banished from the castle walls. But oftentimes, you couldn’t help yourself. After all, it wasn’t your fault your half-brothers, though older, were dumber and much more susceptible to pranks. 

“Excuse me, I was looking for my niece, it seems I should’ve known she was bothering you.” Gilliane spoke softly, giving an apologetic smile towards the princess. 

To which Rhaenyra shook her head, looking between the two of you she realises the time. Despite her annoyance over having to be seated with three potential suitors, all sons of Bennard Stark, she must fulfil her duty. 

“Nonsense, she was showing me around, the castle is far too large and I found myself at a lost on how to go to where I wanted.” 

“Of course! I should have appointed one of ours to accompany you.” 

Rhaenyra went silent for a little bit, briefly looking beside her at you, not that you noticed, your gaze sticking only at Gilliane’s. 

“Right, I must return to my chambers now. I wish to rest before the feast.” 

Gilliane nodded and motioned for one of her guards to lead the princess towards her room. When they were out of earshot that’s when she placed her attention on you. 

“You just couldn’t help yourself can you?” Though her words were sharp, her tone was light and kind. 

“Apologies, my lady. The princess looked lonely.” 

She sighed as a response, bringing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, shaking her head ever so slightly. 

“What will I do with you, dear child.” She chuckled as she grasped your hand in hers. 

The older woman smiled at you. You’ve always known she had a soft spot for you, but every day you were still grateful for her kindness. As the two of you walked, Gilliane leaned in towards you. 

“I hope you are as kind to my child as you are to the princess.” 

Your eyes widened, “You are expecting, my lady?!” 

Gilliane grinned widely and patted your head. 

“I am, a son I feel, though we will only know for sure when the babe comes. But when they do, I hope you will care for them as I have cared for you. I have a feeling your half-brothers will not be as welcoming.” 

Hearing the news you nodded to her. That day a silent oath was spoken in your mind. To repay all of Lady  Gilliane Glover’s kindness, you’ll make sure to protect her child no matter what. 

~

Unfortunately for you, despite your best efforts, you were not able to talk to Rhaenyra for the entirety of her visit to Winterfell. At Lord Rickon Stark’s insistence, Rhaenyra always had a maid, servant, or knight with her throughout the day to guide her and give her a tour of Winterfell as a whole. 

Because of this, the princess hadn’t had a single moment alone except when she slept. Considering how Bennard Stark had warned you the day after he heard the news that you were speaking to the princess unattended, you didn’t want people to see you talking to the princess, afraid of the consequences to her reputation. 

After all, she shouldn’t be seen talking carelessly to a thrown-away bastard such as yourself. 

Nonetheless, you still came across her quite often. Having no real duties except accompanying Lady Gilliane who was now quite busy with dealing with the royal guest in her home. You roamed around the castle mindlessly more often than not. So you ran across the princess a lot as well. 

Every time you did see her, she looked quite tired and lonely. At times you wondered if she was getting enough sleep, if her room was too cold for her. 

“You know, I heard the princess was fond of lace,” Lady Gilliane suddenly spoke. 

The two of you were currently in the library taking a well-deserved break, well, well-deserved on Lady Gilliane’s part. Your head quirked in confusion at her sudden statement. You had been so engrossed in your book about Dragonstone that you hadn’t been paying attention to the lady. 

“Is that so, my lady?” You questioned. 

You looked up from your book at her who was currently in her book. One about fairytales, you wondered if she was memorising them for when her babe would arrive. 

“Yes, and I have also heard that you finished your lace handkerchief recently.” 

Your eyes widened at the sight of Lady Gilliane’s knowing grin. 

“That, I have, my lady.” You mused to yourself, standing up from where you were seated, “If you will excuse me, I remembered I promised Elric that I’d watch his archery practice.” 

Even you rolled your rolled your eyes the moment the excuse came out of your mouth. Lady Gilliane stifled a chuckle at the obvious lie. 

“Right, wouldn’t want to make your half-brother wait, I’m glad the two of you are getting along well.” Sarcasm was laced strongly in her statement.

That was how you found yourself currently inside Rhaenyra’s room, waiting for her to finish another feast with the Starks, fiddling with the lace handkerchief in your hands. Tonight would be the last night Rhaenyra Targaryen would be staying in the North. After days of conversing with your family and meeting other suitable suitors within the area, she will finally go back South to continue her tour tomorrow morning. 

This would be the last time you’d be able to speak with the princess. 

You quickly stood up from where you were sitting when the heavy doors opened. In came a weary-looking princess, whose whole demeanour froze up when she saw you. You froze for a moment as well, seeing her, heat filling your body at the realisation that she could easily have you banished from Winterfell if she thought you were overstepping. 

But you swallowed the lump in your throat and decided to go for it. After all, what can a bastard lose?

“My princess, apologies, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to speak with you in the company of my uncle’s men or your own men. So I thought it would be best to wait in your chambers. I wanted to give you this,” you sputtered, wanting to make your point before Rhaenyra called for the guards to kick you out of her chambers. 

Rhaenyra’s silence caused anxiety to bubble up within you, as you walked towards her to hand her the handkerchief. Truth be told, it wasn’t a functional handkerchief, as such was the properties of lace, sheer and delicate. But you had created it in the shape of one, so you called it one.

She picked up the delicate white lace from your hands, your fingers briefly brushing against one another causing sparks to flow from your fingertips into your heart. Was the princess always this beautiful? 

Rhaenyra observed the design, letting her dainty hands caress the intricate patterns and craftsmanship. It was far from perfect and definitely far from the quality of lace professional lacemakers in King’s Landing would create for her dresses. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel a tightening feeling in her heart the more she caressed the fabric. 

“I had only wanted to practice my craftsmanship, but when I finished it reminded me of you.” 

The design was that of a flower, one that Rhaenyra did not recognise. 

“What flower is this?” 

“Snowdrop, my lady, it is a flower that grows in the cold. They look quite delicate and soft but are one of the hardiest and strongest flowers I know. They also symbolise hope.” You explained quickly, hands behind your back fidgeting against the stitching of your dress. 

Rhaenyra looked closer at the lace. 

“Hope,” she slowly looked up at you and smiled. 

A dazzling one, one that would buckle your knees and make you melt to the ground as if you were hit with Dorne’s heat. 

“I-” she started holding the lace, “I’ll treasure it, thank you.” 

Hearing her heartfelt statement brought a bright smile to your face. Quickly followed by a rush of heat. The princess seems to have a flustering effect on you. 

When silence followed suit, you nodded to yourself and were just about to walk past the princess to leave, feeling awkward now that you didn’t know what else to say. But mimicking the first time you met, Rhaenyra stopped you again. 

“It’s cold.” She suddenly stated. 

You quirked your head to the side slightly at the confusing sudden statement. 

“I can ask the servants to bring more firewood to your fireplace if you’d like.” 

Rhaenyra shook her head, taking a few steps closer to you. 

“I don’t think that’ll be much help. I’m asking if you’d like to stay here for the night, I feel as though it is loneliness that’s causing a chill in my bones. It would bring me comfort to have a friend accompany my last night in this foreign land.” 

Immediately you were thankful for the darkness, aside from the large fireplace which warmed the room, you were both in. Considering your expression at her question probably exposed your flustered interior. After a short pause to recollect yourself. You smiled warmly at the princess. 

“My father did tell me to make sure the Targaryens are well cared for. I would be distraught if you slept cold on your last night here.” 

With a giggle, Rhaenyra quickly grabbed your hand and headed straight to in front of the fireplace. That night the two of you spoke like old friends. Though at first, you baulked at the casualness of which you were speaking to someone of a much higher class than you were. You were quickly charmed by Rhaenyra’s friendly nature. 

Though you did not know it, your company had brought more comfort to Rhaenyra than you could ever imagine. The bone-chilling loneliness she’d been experiencing due to the loss of her friend Alicent, had brought much grief to her. The ease with which your conversation flowed as you both joked and jested with one another reminded her of an easier time. 

As the night went deeper, the two of you found yourselves in bed. It reminded you of the first few times you had been brought into the castle, confused and lost at how a common beggar such as yourself could suddenly be brought into the castle where you seldom sleep. That is until Lady Gilliane caught wind of it and slept in your bedchambers with you until you got used to the noble life.

Though, of course, the stakes were slightly different this time. Although the way your heart was hammering against your chest was quite similar, you guessed the reasoning for it was different. Back then, it was the nervousness of feeling unworthy of the attention of a noble. This time, it was nervousness from something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on just yet. 

But now as you stared into Rhaenyra’s eyes, both of you lay on her bed on your sides you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“You remind me of snow, princess.” 

Rhaenyra’s brows quirked in a way you found positively adorable. 

“Soft and beautiful but with the ability to be harsh and strong. The colour of your hair helps with the imagery as well.” You added the last bit to lighten the mood of your statement a little bit. 

Something that seemed to work as the princess grinned. 

“You remind me of a wolf.” She stated, “Strong and resilient, yet loyal and intelligent. Equally as beautiful as well.” 

She whispered the last part. 

A comforting silence then befalls between the two of you. You couldn’t help but get lost in the princess’ eyes. They were so full of life, that you wondered what it would look like in any other times. What did Princess Rhaenyra look like when she was elated? When she’s entertained? When she’s sad? Angry? Terrified? In love? 

You guessed she must look beautiful no matter what. The image in your mind pushed your hand to move not according to your own volition. You brought one of your hands to the princess’ cheek, caressing her soft skin under your fingertips ever so slightly. 

Rhaenyra’s lips parted in shock, though she did not pull back, quite the contrary. She leaned closer to your face. Without thinking twice, you closed the distance between you, your lips shyly touching her own. Rhaenyra reciprocated as shyly. A chaste kiss was shared before you jolted backwards. 

Quickly sitting up, you covered your mouth in shock. What have you done?

“Princess! I’m sorry– I– I overstep. I forget myself. My deepest apologies–” You muttered nonsensically before fully standing up on the floor and rushing towards the doors. 

Leaving Rhaenyra silent and shocked on the bed. Her fingers touch her lips ever so slightly at the soft touch of your lips. Remembering the short moment, a small smile crept onto her face, though you were now halfway on your way back to your room. Mortified and terrified for the morning. 

~

When morning did end up coming, you did not expect to be woken up by some maids. Usually, both your father and the reigning Lord Rickon Stark left you on your own. Choosing to forget about your existence. This led to you dealing with your own empty schedule yourself, as Lady Gilliane was usually only free at noon or afternoons anyway. Which were the times she would want you to accompany her. 

You’d usually make your way to the kitchens to have breakfast or an early lunch with the other maids, eating whatever food they provided for you. 

But this time, maids quickly came into your room and went to wake you. Surprising you. They quickly drew a bath and fussed over your appearance. Before you could properly regain your thoughts and get a concise answer on why they were treating you as one of the Starks, you were already pushed out of your chambers and led outside. 

When you saw the crowd from afar, that was when you realised something. You were going to be with your family to bid Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen farewell. How mortifying!

Finally being led to your side of the family, you stood beside your youngest half-brother Elric Stark who glared at you. In the corner of your vision, you see Lady Gilliane look over towards you, clueing you on who set up the entire thing. 

Not too long after a myriad of armed guards left the building and behind them followed the princess. 

She looked radiant, her hair in intricate braids which reminded you of the drawings of Visenya you’ve seen in books. Her dress was layered with coats upon coats of fur, clearly preferring to wear more outer layers than making sure her dress was thick enough, likely to make the changing climates as she leaves the north easier to deal with. 

As customs dictate, she thanks Lord Rickon Stark and Lady Gilliane Glover for their hospitality. She then respectfully regarded your father and your half-brothers. You kept your head held high but avoided her gaze as she walked towards her carriage. 

Right before she reached there, she stopped in front of you. With nowhere else to look you looked at the princess. 

“I thank you for your company, it was a pleasure meeting you.” She grasped your hand in hers and you felt her discretely hand you something. “I wish to take you to Dragonstone if time allows it. I shall request you to be one of my ladies-in-waiting formally later on once I have reached King’s Landing.” 

Your eyes widened at her statement. The offer wasn’t an offer given to bastards such as yourself. They were given to daughters of second-rated houses so that they may learn under a daughter of a higher house. Not someone like you who belongs to no house. 

“I am honoured at your offer, princess, I pray for your safe travels.” You bowed your head as Rhaenyra nodded and made her way towards the carriage. 

You brought your hand to your back, hiding the item she handed to you discretely. 

You would later find out after the entire ordeal was over, that she had handed you a necklace of hers. It was a simple yet intricate necklace, one made of silver chain which held a trinket shaped like a three-headed dragon. You held the gesture close to your heart, thanking the old gods and the new that she did not push away your advancements. 

Lady Gilliane could only chuckle as she heard you tell what happened in Rhaenyra’s chambers. Though you did omit the details about the kiss. 

~

In the year that followed, Cregan Stark was born, two years after, your lady would give the realm another Stark heir. Though it was then the animosity between Lord Bennard as well as his sons, your half-brothers, and Cregan. 

You had assumed they thought the Winterfell seat would fall onto them, considering Lord Rickon Stark was old and had not had an heir yet. That was until Cregan and his younger brother. 

Seeing this, you did everything you could to protect the two of them from your father’s selfishness, knowing firsthand what his scheming was like. It got even worse at the birth of Sara Snow and Cregan’s insistence on keeping his little sister in his life. 

It wouldn’t be long after that when Lord Rickon Stark would travel to King’s Landing to pledge loyalty to Rhaenyra as heir to the throne. A part of you wished you could come with him, you wanted to see what Rhaenyra was like now. But another part of you knew you needed to stay in Winterfell and protect Lord Rickon’s children in his absence. 

When the time came and Lord Rickon passed, followed by Lady Gilliane and their youngest child, Cregan was far too young to rule. You could only watch in the background as your father took the seat until Cregan was of age. Though when he finally did, your father slowed to give the seat. 

You could feel tensions rise between them, tensions which could easily bleed into bloodshed. Though you had no sympathy nor love for any of your half-brothers or your father. You did not wish for their deaths, after all, they were family, whether you liked it or not. 

So, you came to Cregan with a proposition. Your help to get his seat back without unnecessary bloodshed which could tear Winterfell into two, in return for a seat in his council. It need not be official if he did not want Lords of different lands to wonder why a woman was counselling him. You just wanted him to make use of your mind and the ease that came with being a bastard who had no need to uphold a family name. 

He was quick to accept your proposition, having no reason to distrust you after the years you’ve spent together. The events which followed came in quick succession afterwards. You betrayed your father and half-brother, imprisoned them, and were quick to name Cregan Stark the Lord of Winterfell. In return, he officially gave you a spot in his council. 

Your life became quite different after that. With your new duties and responsibilities, you were quick to drown yourself in work and books. Filling your mind with knowledge and anything that may help your cousin in dealing with the tumultuous land that is the North. 

You had barely any time to think about Rhaenyra or anything considering the politics of King’s Landing, leaving that to Cregan as he left the inner workings of Winterfell to you. 

That is, until a dragon arrives in Winterfell. 

~

“Who is it?” You quickly asked Cregan, who despite his much younger age than you, had grown taller and stronger than you. 

“I assume either Aegon asking us to place our loyalty on him or one of Queen Rhaenyra’s sons.” You grinned. 

“You called her queen,” you stated Cregan’s words, who rolled his eyes, “I only hope it is not Aegon, if it is, I think we’ll have quite the sour visit.” 

Though your words were light, a part of you hoped it was one of Rhaenyra’s sons. At this point, you hadn’t seen her for too many years and a small hopeful part of you yearned to meet her once more. Or at the very least, see a semblance of her in the shape of her son. 

As Cregan wanted to greet the guest alone you excused yourself and returned to your work. There was no point in hoping for something that may not be true. But as you grabbed a piece of paper detailing the current stocks of wheat, your eyes dragged onto an ornate box neatly kept beside your bed. 

Where it has been for decades. 

Gritting your teeth and wondering if you should, your heart went against your mind and you stood from your table to reach for it. Holding the black and red box in your hands you, once again, debated on opening it. In the beginning, you would open the box and observe its content almost every day after you woke up and just before you slept. 

Now the box had stayed closed after Lord Rickon’s passing, considering you had to focus on Cregan and not your own silly fantasies. 

But today, you couldn’t help yourself. Your fingers danced on the latch before opening the box, within it a single object lays flat. The necklace was as beautiful as the day you received it. The dragons looking at you with its menacing eyes. You caressed it with a smile, reminiscing about a simpler time. 

You closed it back once you’ve wasted enough time and went back to your work. 

It was late at night once you finished your calculations. As always you brought your findings to Cregan’s study, it was late at night, you assumed he must’ve already finished his talks with the guest and had ushered whoever it was to rest. 

It brought you great surprise to open the doors of his study only to find him laughing with said guest. A bottle of expensive Dornish wine opened and drained of its contents on the table beside them. Seeing his dark curls, you assumed the young man in front of you now was Jacaerys Velaryon. Rhaenyra’s son. And not Aegon. 

Hearing the door open, Cregan was quick to look at who would dare enter without announcing themselves. Only immediately relaxing when he saw that it was you. With a smile he stood from where he sat, Jacaerys quickly followed suit. 

“This woman here is my advisor. She is my half-cousin, though I consider her almost like a sister.” He explained after introducing your name. 

“My lords, apologies for interrupting, I had brought the crop stocks you had asked for early this morning.” You motioned towards the papers you were currently holding. 

Cregan was quick to sober, he took the papers as you handed and placed them in a neat pile on his table. 

“Thank you, I will look through them as soon as I can-”

“You are her.” Both you and Cregan snapped your head towards Jacaerys’ voice, confused at his coded statement. Realising his mistake, Jacaerys shook his head, “Apologies, I meant that I did not expect you to match exactly the descriptions my mother told to me.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and so did Cregan’s. 

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, my mother, had asked me to relay a message to you if I were to find you. You are the Lady Snow, yes?” 

At the question, you stifled a chuckle, a sense of deja vu at your first meeting with Rhaenyra hitting you once again. 

“I am not a lady but yes, I suppose I am, unless you are referencing to Sara.” 

“No– My mother wanted to extend an invitation to you.” Cregan now stood straighter at Jacaerys words, brows furrowing.

You gently placed a hand on his arm, silently willing him to relax. Unfortunately for him, you had never told him about your quick friendship with Rhaenyra. So you assumed he thought Jacaerys’ statement sounded rather dangerous. 

“She said she wanted to honour her promise that she made years ago about taking you to Dragonstone.” 

Your eyes, along with Cregan’s, widened like plates. 

“What?” Cregan was the first to break the sudden silence. Though you were quick to hold his arm, signing silently to him that it wasn’t anything threatening. Despite the odd way Jacaerys speaking. 

“I’m–” you awkwardly chuckled, “I’ll be frank– I can’t believe she still remembered that. I– I have too much work here, summer is about to end and winter is coming. Perhaps,” you fiddled with your fingers your mind working in double time, “Perhaps, I’ll take up on your offer once this war is over. I trust my cousin followed the oath the late Lord Rickon made when swearing Princess Rhaenyra as heir?” 

Jacaerys and Cregan looked at each other for a bit before nodding, “Indeed I have.” 

You nodded and turned, “Then I shall take my leave.” 

“I’ll accompany you back to your bedchambers, dear cousin.” Cregan, ever the protective person, was quick to state. 

With a nod, you both turned to walk out the door, before you remembered something. Considering Cregan’s busy schedule and your own, you didn’t know when would be the last time you’d see Jacaerys. So you quickly went over towards him, taking off the necklace around your neck and handing it to him. 

“When you leave, I’d like for you to give this to the Queen, as a token of my gratitude.” You smiled and returned to where Cregan was once Jacaerys nodded and pocketed the necklace. 

Cregan watched with furrowed brows as the two of you walked away. 

“Why would you give him that? You’ve worn that necklace for as long as I remembered.” He asked once the two of you were out of earshot. 

“Do you recall ever seeing the pendant at the middle of the necklace?” 

He scoffed. 

“Never, you always wore it backwards.” 

“Precisely, I only want the princess to see the engravings.” 

Before Cregan could ask you to elaborate you had returned to your room. 

~

Amid chaos and tragedy, Rhaenyra lay on her bed alone. After sending Daemon off to deal with an army north of Dragonstone on Caraxes, she could hardly sleep thinking about the atrocities both she and Aegon had done. Blood was spilt on both sides of the coin now that the war was deep in the works. 

It felt like just yesterday that her dearest Lucerys had been killed by Aemond. When in reality it had been months pass now. 

Her hand mindlessly grabbed at the necklace on her bedside table. The shivering cold silver grounded her to reality. It reminded her of the North and its cold. But when she turned the pendant around. A wry smile crept onto her features. 

There engraved in the pendant was the carving of a wolf, surrounded with snowdrops. 

Holding the pendant tight in the palm of her hands, she swore to win the war, take her rightful place as Queen, and finally fulfil her promise to you. 

[oneforthemunny]

christmas (baby, please come home) |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: it's not the most wonderful time of the year for everyone, including you and eddie.

apart of my munny's merriest that you can read here!

contains: angst. eddie is mean. past parental trauma. grief. holiday grief and sadness. angst really.

Heavy boots, covered with slush and snow from the frozen ground below, pounded up the creaking wooden porch. Eddie huffed, his breath clouding around him, a gloved hand reaching for the screen door. The toe of his work boots knocked against the doorway, kicking off the remainder of the snow from the icy, winter wonderland that arrived overnight, just in time for Christmas Eve. With it, came an icy chill that had Eddie working overtime to make sure the horses were warm. 

It was an odd feeling, walking into the mud room, plopping on the bench to pull off his boots. Eddie waited, inhaling in the cold, crisp air, waiting for the warmth to flood back to his system. That cozy heat to thaw out the chill that shocked his system, left his cheeks red and frost bitten from the cold. The euphoric feeling of relief that coated him every time he walked in from the snow. It never came. 

In fact, it felt colder in the house. 

In the house that was decorated, halls decked and every square inch covered with Christmas. The usual homey contentment that came from looking at the decorations was gone, replaced with a miserable, heavy feeling settled deep in the pit of his stomach, feeling him with a sickening guilt. 

Visions of your fight, hateful words piled on with yells and slamming doors, right there in the kitchen. A kitchen that should be filled with Burl Ives’ Christmas album on a loop was missing its merry music; it was missing you. 

“We always spend Christmas with my family.” 

“Yeah, exactly. It’s always about you, what you wanna fuckin’ do!” 

Eddie could see your face as if it was in front of him again. The way your expression fell, crumbling before him, the betrayal in your eyes rimmed with flecks of hurt. It made his stomach turn all over again. 

“You don’t- I thought you liked spending time with my family.” Your voice was small, far too small for your usual tone. “They always love spending time with you, Ed.” 

“Oh, yeah, to you they do.” He scoffed, eyes rolling so hard he gave himself a headache. He could feel it now. “You always leave me with your asshole uncle, who always wants to tell me the same goddamn story about how he used to ride horses growin’ up, like I give a shit-” 

“-Eddie! He’s trying to be nice and talk to you, so you’re not-” 

“-So I’m not miserable? Well, guess what, honey. I’m fuckin’ miserable!” His voice was so loud it shook the wooden cabinets of the kitchen, your tin snowmen rattling on top of the shelves. “I am fuckin’ miserable every Christmas! I would rather be here alone, shovelin’ shit all goddamn night and day than be there!” 

The hitch in your breath rang loud and clear in Eddie’s ear, his own face crumpling this time, a shaky hand rubbing across his eyes to try and keep his composure. But how could he? How could he stop the ache in his chest when he remembered the way you looked at him? The way your eyes filled with tears, lip quivering in fear. You hadn’t cried, not in there, atleast. Instead, you waited until you got to the bedroom, pulling out your own little overnight bag and filling it silently. 

He’d been so furious, so unfathomably filled with weeks of pent up rage, Eddie had to step out. Fury filled steps, a swinging fist to a post that left his knuckles bloody, splintering into the pale skin that was already blooming with bruises. Eddie really regretted it now, sure he’d broken a knuckle at the way it had swelled, doubled in size and kissed with dark purple, welt-like bruises. Oh, what he would do, what he would give, to have you fuss over it, patch it up and huff at him for doing something so immature. 

You didn’t. 

Instead, you stayed silent, save for the heart wrenching, hiccupy sniffle you gave when loading your bag into the trunk. Eddie’s body was still buzzing, electric with every ounce of bitter grief he’d tried to ignore. 

“Where you goin’?” Eddie gritted, tone sharp, it left you shuddering at the unfamiliar sharpness directed at you. 

“You want to shovel shit, since it’s so much better than being with my family.” Your breath stuttered in your chest when you took that breath. One that had Eddie’s heart lurching, nervous system flooding with a damning shock that left his head reeling in fear. 

“Better than being with me.” The crack in your voice matched the crack in Eddie’s own heart, splitting it right down the middle. 

“I don’t want to make you any more miserable than you already are.” You spat, and suddenly, Eddie longed for the sadness in your tone because the bitterness that replaced it was worse. 

Your own boots crunched on the ground, bare with snow and ice, but frozen from the cold. “Have a Merry Christmas by yourself, Eddie.” A hard yank of your car handle, and you were gone. 

Eddie watched you go in a horrified stare, your car disappearing down out of his sight in a red flash, feeling like he was watching a movie- a fucked up movie through his own eyes, but not in his own body. 

Then he was alone. 

Eddie was alone, standing on his family’s land, holding his throbbing hand alone. He was alone then. He was alone later that night, when he crawled into bed, teary eyes and shaking hands grabbing at your pillow, smothering himself with it because it smelled like you- terrified it might be the last time he could smell you. And he was alone now. Sitting in a too still kitchen, in a too quiet house, on Christmas Eve, alone. 

The burning threat of tears choked him, bubbling out of his chest and crept up his throat. Through blurred vision, Eddie could see the time. A little past four. He wondered what you were doing, what your family was doing. If your dad had started a card game yet. The same Rummy game he always made sure to deal Eddie in to- always made sure to include him. 

If your uncle was on his fourth or fifth glass of eggnog, spiking it with an extra pour of Woodford. He’d always offer Eddie some, slurring and spilling a little onto the festive tablecloth. Drunkenly tell him about his childhood, how he grew up riding horses, the same droning story that Eddie would always nod politely at. He was sloshed through the holidays, but never mean- always a jolly drunk, bellowing laughs through shining eyes. No smashing of plates or bruising grips like Eddie’s childhood Christmases always had. 

Or if your mom had got a chance to breathe, pull herself out of the kitchen with your aunts. She’d always hug him so warmly when she’d greet the two of you at the door, fussing over taking your bags and jackets, so happy the two of you were there. She’d even embroidered a stocking for Eddie last year, surprised him with it proudly. He’d nearly cried. 

It was a weird feeling. This feeling that he was becoming a part of your family. That they wanted him to be a part of it. 

He only had Wayne left, the rest of his family was long gone. It filled him with a grimy, gross feeling how much he enjoyed his time with your family. The sickening thought that he was betraying his own, replacing them and filling in their spots with shiny, new replicas. 

Wayne would laugh at him, tell him he should enjoy it, he better enjoy it. “You know Darlene and me go to Florida ev’ry Christmas, boy. You better stick it with ‘er. She’s a good’en.” 

Wayne would be furious at him if he knew. Probably take him ‘round back for the way he spoke to you, about your family. Eddie wouldn’t blame him, he was furious at himself for it. 

Eddie’s eyes found their way to the mantle, your stocking and his lined side by side. His was full, stuffed with small gifts and goodies you’d cheerily slip in, tongue clicking at him when he’d try to peek. Yours was deflated, sans for a small pair of cabin socks Eddie had got in early November. 

The bile in his throat brought him back to his very cruel reality in front of him. He’d been mean to you- he acted like his dad. 

Eddie’s stomach lurched, moving to the sink, a shaking hand pulling his hair back, retching into the sink at the revelation. Parallels of his mom and dad, his childhood, how his mom would decorate the house from top to bottom, make it nice and festive for Eddie. His dad would come in, tear it down, mock her for it in a drunken slur. She’d always buy him a gift, make sure Eddie’s stocking was filled with what she could: penny candies, knitted gloves, dented wacky packs from the discount store. Eddie would make her an ornament, his Mamaw Munson would get her a little gift, but never his dad. Her stocking was always empty. 

A choked sob caught in Eddie’s throat, vomit spewing into the shiny surface under him. Clammy forehead pressed to the cool countertop, he took a deep, shaky sob to try and keep the cry in. The mangled sob that shook his core, rattled his lungs, burned all the way from his stomach to his nose. 

Calloused hands wiped at his wet cheeks, chapped from the cold, giving a fierce sniffle. Eddie felt eight again, noticing for the first time the way his mother’s eyes dimmed, how she tried to hide it when she opened the empty stocking. She had been hopeful that there had been something in there, that this year his dad would remember her, be better. He never was. 

Eddie couldn’t be him, he wouldn’t be. He’d already reflected him in every way, too much for his own comfort lately- screaming at you, that rage that tore through him, bloody knuckles and aching throat that was leaving you in tears. 

As his shaking fingers turned the dial, cradling the phone to his ear, he hoped you would answer- that he could just get to you, talk to you. Your mother’s cheery voice rang over the phone instead, a happy roar of chatter mixed with music playing behind her voice. 

“Oh, Ed?” Your mother’s voice sounded concerned, he could practically see her frown, one you inherited. “Are you feeling better, hon? We miss you. I’m sending your stocking and gifts home- well, not the stocking, I’ll keep that but what’s inside.” 

You’d told them he was sick, covered for him- just like his mom used to do for his dad. The kindness in her tone nearly sent Eddie over the edge, pulling the receiver away to take a breath, to keep the sob from coming out. 

“Ed?” Your mom tried again. “Are you there?” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m sorry. I just… Is s-she around?” Eddie’s voice was tight with emotion, and he knew if he said your name, it would break whatever facade he’s mustered at the moment.

“Uh-huh, one second.” A staticy rustle filled the receiver, your name muffled and falling from your mom’s lips. 

Eddie didn’t realize he was holding his breath, until he released it, a desperate sigh of relief when you took the phone. “Hello?” 

“H-Hi, baby.” Eddie tried, hoping his voice was soft enough, gentler now- than the last time he talked to you. 

“Hi.” You bit, through gritted teeth, dragging the chord of the phone into the hall with you. “What do you want? I’m with my family.” 

His water line brimmed again, overflowing with angry tears. “Yeah, I know, honey. I’m sorry, I just,” Eddie took a deep breath, stuttering in his throat. “I’m sorry.” 

Your own lip wobbled, fresh with tears. You’d pulled into your parents drive the night before, eyes red rimmed from your cry, telling them something about the hay and your allergies. They’d believed you, pulled you in with a warm hug. It was nice, comforting at your home, surrounded by your family until you were asleep. A bed had never felt so cold.

 “I don’t-” You grit, trying to keep your own emotions in. “This is why you called me?” 

Eddie flinched at the venom in your own tone. “I am sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby, you don’t even kno-ow.” Eddie’s chest stuttered. “I didn’t mean any of that, I swear. I was- I’m just… I’m not doing great this year, baby.” 

Your heart jumped at the shake in his tone, the rawness of his words. “You really hurt my feelings, Ed.” You admitted, your voice smaller. “I don’t- I don’t know why you don’t like my family. They love you-” 

“-I don’t.” Eddie shook his head, fist balled around the phone. “I didn’t mean any of that. I love your family, I-I love you.” 

“So, you said all of that, why?” You scoffed lowly. 

Eddie’s knee bounced. He hadn’t expected you just to forgive him, but it was still hard- hard when you weren’t here, when you were away and hurt, and he was alone and miserable. 

Miserable, the single word in the world he wished to never say or hear again. 

“I…” Eddie’s hand threaded through his matted locks. “I don’t know. It’s weird. Not- no, no, no, not you or- fuck, that’s not what I meant.” Eddie rambled stupidly. 

“I feel weird about being with your family on Christmas because…I like it.” Eddie’s vision was blurred, watery with tears. “It’s just different from what I grew up with, and… and I don’t know, sometimes it’s just, it’s overwhelming, baby.” 

You stayed silent on the other end, the only sound signaling you were still on the line was the faint yells and mummers of your family, only making Eddie’s heart ache even more. “They’re all so nice, it-it makes me… I didn’t have that. My family didn’t have that, and-and every time I’m there it just makes me wish they did.” 

The both of you fell into a silence, one that was becoming far too common. Eddie’s heart hammered behind his ribcage. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. This- nothing is your fault, you know that? This is on me. I shouldn’t have ever talked to you like that, said that shit. I’d beat the dog walking shit out of anyone who said that shit about you, and then I say it? That’s just-” Eddie let out a humorless, watery laugh, fist pressed to his forehead in an attempt to extinguish that fury burning through his chest again. 

A cleansing breath later, Eddie’s head was in his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, wobbly when he told you. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

“It’s… We can talk later, Eddie.” Your voice finally rang through, shaky and unsteady, clutching the phone like it was your life long. “Thank you for calling me. For telling me that.” 

The silence settled again, both of you unsure, scared to make the next move. 

“I, uh, I wish you were here.” You broke the silence this time. “My family keeps asking about you. They miss you, a lot.” 

“I miss you.” Eddie sniveled, wiping his running nose with the back of his hand. “I mean, I miss them too, but I just… I miss you a lot.” 

A pause, the slight clear of your throat. “I have to go.” You whispered, voice tight and Eddie knew you were close to tears. “I have to help my mom set the table, but… I’ll call you tonight.” 

“I love you.” Eddie blurted, sacred he might forget to say it with how his head was swimming. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 

“I know.” Your voice was soft. It made Eddie’s stomach lurch all over again. 

The line droned in a steady beep after your receiver clicked. Eddie held the phone there, eyes shining dully with unshed tears in the lights of the strung decorations. A defeated slump in his shoulders. He didn’t feel any better, worse if anything. 

Eddie was surrounded by a deafening silence, the house too quiet. Too quiet to be Christmas. Too quiet without you. 

The soft glow from the barn pulled Eddie’s attention, the doors pulled to keep the heat in for the horses. He twisted the phone in his palms, turning it over in his hands gently before jabbing his fingers back into the dial. 

The line rang once, twice, nearly a third before it was answered. 

“Gare, hey, I’ve got a big ask…” 

“Honey,” Your mom’s eyes squinted, yellow rubber gloves dunked into the soapy warm water in front of her. “I thought you said Ed wasn’t coming.” 

You nearly dropped the plate you were drying, breath caught in your throat. “What?” You hissed, leaning to look out the small window over the sink. Sure enough, there in the dark, snow covered driveway was Eddie’s truck. 

“I-I didn’t think he was.” You shook your head, setting the plate down gently. “He said he wasn’t feeling well. I’m just- I’ll be right back.” Slipping on your boots, not bothering to lace them, you stepped outside into the frigid cold of the night. 

Eddie didn’t see you, back turned, grabbing armfulls of bags out of the back seat. “What are you doing here?” 

He jumped, nearly dropping your aunt’s present, eyes wide when he turned. “Shit, I-I…” Eddie’s tongue tied, jumbled and thick in his mouth. He didn’t expect to see you, standing there, in your little Christmas sweater that had his heart swelling. He wanted to kiss you, coo at you for being so cute, get you all blushy and giggle at his compliments. 

Your lifted brow, arms crossed over your chest protectively stopped him. “I wanted to give your family their gifts. I-I was just going to leave them on the porch and tell you when I called tonight.” 

Your foot twisted into the snow, eyes cast downward. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I did.” Eddie nodded firmly. “They’re not- It’s not great. The mall was closing early so I had to kinda rush, but, uh, I wanted to get them something.” He looked at you, eyes shining with emotion. “Wanted to get you something too.” 

Your stocking was hooked onto his left pointer finger, a crooked bend of the knitted fabric, hanging heavy and filled with tiny trinkets and things that ruffled. You looked at it carefully, face quipping just barely, but Eddie caught it. “I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.” Eddie muttered lowly, breath showing under the glow of the lights. 

“Thank you.” You nodded, swallowing thickly around your words. “I can help you take them in.” 

“No,” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want to… I know you don’t want to be with me right now, baby, and I get it. I’ll just drop them off-” 

“-Come inside.” You sighed, arms still tight around his chest. “My mom already saw you. It’s just easier for you to come in.” 

Eddie tried to hide the hurt he felt with a simple nod. “I don’t want to ruin your Christmas.” He muttered softly. “More than I already have.” 

“Eddie,” You sounded tired, words heavy with emotion, exhaustion maybe. “Come inside.” Your eyes lifted to his, so sweet, nearly pleading he was sure he might sob. “There’s still leftovers. I’ll heat them up for you.” 

So Eddie followed you inside, gifts under his arms, letting your family greet him warmly, chocking his red eyes and matching nose up to the hay fever he’d been having. Your mom fixed him a plate, poured you both a glass of mulled wine. 

In the tiny bed of your childhood room, the two of you talked in hushed voices, silent apologies traded over soft touches. 

“I didn’t mean it.” Eddie whispered, nose pushing into your neck. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” You nodded, and you did. Even if it still hurt, still wounded from the words, you knew that was true. 

Eddie’s cheek pressed against your shoulder, hands grabbing at you, pulling you closer and closer like at any moment you might disappear from his clutches. “My mom,” His voice cracked, eyes pinching shut. “She used to love Christmas.” 

“Really?” You hum, tone as even as it could be with the shock. Eddie never spoke about his mother. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “She, uh, she used to decorate every Thanksgiving. Pull out the tree after dinner, put it up. My dad,” Eddie swallowed around the bitter title. “He was always passed out by then, so she could do it pretty quickly. Get it up and ready before he’d wake up and bitch. It wasn’t a lot, a tree and some other stuff, but I’d always help her. She-She always let me put the angel on top.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, what you were supposed to say. Eddie’s mom was a sensitive spot. One he didn’t talk about much, at all, really. 

“She would really like your family.” Eddie’s voice was small, a rarity. Always the loud, rough and tough cowboy, commanding wild bucks all day. Small wasn’t in his vocabulary. 

“They would have really liked her.” You said slowly, vibrations from your voice tickling Eddie’s ear. 

Eddie knew it was true. He felt stupid, really, waves of horrible guilt crashing over him again as he clung tighter to you. Your family wasn’t the enemy, wasn’t one to try and replace his own family, just an extension. 

He meant what he said, that his Mama would like your family. He already knew she’d love you, simply because he did. He hoped it was true, that your family would’ve loved her. He knew deep down they would have, that they would welcome her with the same warmth that they gave him. 

That they’d always make sure her stocking was full on Christmas morning, because they always made sure his was. 

[crowthis]

PFC Eugene B. Sledge

Co. K, 3rd Bn., 5th Marines

First Marine Div.

c/o FPO San Francisco Calif.

Dec. 7, 1944

Dear Pop,

I received the packages of nuts & laundry powder & brushes. They really make my washing a lot easier. The Hersheys, cheese crackers, more cookies, cocoa, and Georgia Cottage earth arrived. The latter I sprinkled around my bunk & I feel like I'm once again on family ground. I really I certainly got a kick out of the crow foot & feathers & attached cards.

I read "Song to Remember" in a movie magazine this morning. It was the gist of the movie of the life of Fred Chopin. It was very interesting & I enjoyed it. Every one in my tent gets a lot of pleasure from the magazines you & Mummie have sent. I lay in my bunk by the hour & read. You & Mummie can rest assured that I've enjoyed your packages equally as much as you did sending them. I certainly appreciate it and all the love they represent.

If you can't find me some sort of 98[cent] watch & if my wrist watch is repaired please send the latter to me as I do need some sort of watch. Be sure & insure it. Do you remember the small pipe you had with the metal filter & shaped [picture of pipe]. I liked it for its strait, screw on stem, small squatty bowl & metal filter. I thought if you could find it I'd like it if you don't use it. The pipe I have [picture of pipe] is from Sid & pretty nice but I prefer a metal filter & don't like a tall bowl. I guess I'm lowly for asking for anything after all the wonderful packages. I hope you don't think I'm greedy. Tell Mom all the contents of the packages have been fresh and good & all the packages arrived in fine shape. All the boys say I'm really blessed with devoted parents. I inform them thats very very true. I got a nice package from Uncle Woolsey & I wrote him last nite.

Well Pop I have run out of news. As I look over at my bunk with a copy of Field & Stream & a box of cookies on it I feel the need to remove my shoes & relax. This rest snows me but I guess we really earned it. My love to you & Mummie.

Devotedly, Gene

(over)

P.S. Give Floyd my regards & the same to the Wares. Tell them I hope I'm back home hunting with you in the big field next Dec. 7. I got a nice letter from Ed yesterday & I wrote last nite. I hope the rest of the little ducks get along O.K.

Love, Gene

Two packages just arrived. One from Mom & one from Mrs. Butler. Some cheese crackers & a flashlight and some lifesavers were in the boxes. Pop please cease sending baby canned food. It's too rich for me & besides the mortar section takes great glee in "Say Sledgehammer did you get any baby food today?" I can take teasing but thats too much. Be careful how you tell Mummie because I don't want to hurt her & besides everything else is swell. I wrote you about it for I know you'll understand. Now don't let Mummie misunderstand & get her feelings hurt. Tell her its too rich for me, it really is. Everything else is just what I like.

Love, Gene

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons ii.

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ christmas and hot chocolate

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, family issues, and i think that's it?? it's mostly fluff??

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ why is it christmas you might be wondering... well i don't fucking know okay??😭😭wrote this when i was in another country and it was cold and it reminded me of christmas so i wrote this. anyway. this one is boring as FUCK... just saying. i'm embarrassed about posting this actually. also, i accidentally put this on chat gpt and it gave me more than 10 things i had to fix so. don't get your hopes up LMAO

hope y'all have a great day, night, morning or whatever. take care of yourselves!!!!!!! if u don't you're an asshole.

AND THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON MY LAST POST!!!!!!!!! i love everyone who liked it :)) even just knowing people have read it makes my heart warm. i really thought it would get cero recognition, y'all are amazing <3

(readers mental health gets addressed in the next chapter btw)

(not proofread either, sorry if there's any mistake)

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

i don't wanna talk about anything

i wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again

wanna witness your eyes looking

For Christmas, I go to Ellie's house, and I lie to my mother about having too much work. She says it's fine, which weirds me out. I never thought she would say yes. I’m excited and happy to go to Ellie’s house, anyway. This is important, I feel—meeting her family, I mean. She never speaks much about them, but I know she's adopted, and that she gets along with them. She also never met her mother. She says she had her aunt to teach her all that Joel couldn't, like what periods were, how to wash her clothes, and how to paint her nails with her left hand.

I think a part of me is afraid to go because I'm afraid I'll get attached. My mother never taught me what periods were and my father never seemed to know what empathy was. Her family sounds like a dream to me.

"We’re here," Ellie says with a smile on her face as she pulls up on the side of the road next to a white house. It’s got a green lawn, it looks nicely cared for, and a white picket fence. I take a deep breath, I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I think Ellie senses that. She puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, which feels comforting. "Hey, just know my dad is really fucking chill. It’s just going to be us, and my uncle's family. They’re going to love you, I promise."

"Okay," I nod because I know it and that's what I'm afraid of. I look outside the window. It’s Christmas Eve. It's already snowing. I then stare at Ellie's eyes and smile. I kiss her and when I pull apart I speak. "I don't want to go out, it's cold."

"C’mon, let’s go inside then. I don’t want you to freeze in this car."

I nod and fix my hair in the mirror before I go out. The cold makes me unable to feel my face or my hands, so when I go inside I'm a bit surprised by how warm it is. Ellie makes me hand her my coat and my stuff, and she puts mine and hers aside.

The house inside looks way better than it does outside. The lights are dim, the Christmas tree has colorful lights wrapped around it, and it smells like an apple pie is cooking. It feels like an actual home, and the chimney is decorated with socks, and next to it, on the wall, are pictures of young Ellie.

"You look cute," I tell her, speaking about the photos, as she walks towards me.

She blushes, her ears go red, "Uh, you weren't meant to see that."

"Oh, stop it," I chuckle. "You look adorable.”

"I bet you looked way more adorable than me."

"I looked like a disfigured mosquito with a big ass."

Ellie laughs as her hand goes to my hip, "First of all, if you were a disfigured mosquito—which you're not by the way—I would still like you; second of all, I love your big ass."

"Oh, so that's all you love about me?" I ask, teasingly, slightly tilting my head. "Just my ass?"

I feel Ellie's hands move downwards, nearly gripping my butt, before I hear someone clearing their throat. I'm so red I'm not even a tomato... I probably look like a fucking chili pepper or something.

I know it's Joel because Ellie has a picture of him with her on her nightstand. She looks at Joel as her hands linger on my hips for a second, then she takes them off and walks towards him.

"Joel," Ellie says, hugging him. "Hey, old man."

"Kiddo, you've grown so much."

"I look the same as last month."

"Yeah, just thought it’d make you feel better."

Ellie laughs as she pulls apart. I just stand there, awkwardly behind Ellie. Finally, Joel looks at me.

"Oh, hi," he says, now looking at me. "Ellie has talked a lot about you."

I nod, "Thanks for letting me stay, Mr. Miller."

"Just call me Joel."

"Well," Ellie interrupts. "We're going to my room, I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, I'll tell you when Tommy and Maria get here."

Ellie takes our bags, which she insists on doing alone, and leads me to her room.

Her room, it's… so her. Posters of bands cover every inch of her walls, and her desk is stained with paint.

I sit on her bed and look around as she sits next to me.

"I like your room," I tell her, feeling her knee bump against mine. She's so close to me I can feel her breath on my neck. 

"It’s messy, though." She’s looking at me, but I can't dare to look at her. 

I feel guilty for not being at home now, it gnaws at me. Is mom alone? And why do I care? Why do I feel guilt over the person who made me hurt more? She always wants to fight—there's always constant battles between us, battles she always wins. So why do I miss her and why is it hard to accept?

"What are you thinking?"

I chuckle, "It’s nothing."

"Well—alright," she lets the subject the subject slip. She kisses my cheek and then my lips and her hands roam my body. We just make out, though.

Christmas dinner goes fine. Better than I thought it would. The Millers are like a real family, they talk to me like they've known me for years, even though I feel like an intruder in their house. I don't want to be fond of them, or else I'll cling to them like they're family.

Maria and Tommy have a baby and most of the night is spent with Ellie cradling the baby and me sitting next to him. We drink hot chocolate with marshmallows. This is the happiest I've ever been at Christmas.

At night, I leave Ellie's warm embrace to go for a glass of water. I can't sleep, my mind is racing and it won't shut off.

When I go downstairs Joel is sitting at the kitchen table, I don't know what to say to him. Which is okay, because he speaks first.

"Can't sleep?" He asks.

For a moment I think he has confused me for Ellie, because why is he talking to me?

"Yeah," I say, getting my glass of water.

"I won't give the 'hurt my daughter and I'll kill you' talk if that's what you're worried about."

I try to laugh, "Thanks, I guess. You're—you're a great dad."

"Well, you're a great kid."

"Thank you," I answer because I don't know what else to say. He's indeed a great dad. He's funny and nice and caring. I've seen the way he talks to Ellie. Unlike my father he doesn't look at her daughter like he's trying to fix their relationship, therefore their conversations don't look forced; Ellie has referred to me as her girlfriend at Christmas dinner, and all Joel did was smile. It made me want to throw up, even if I felt welcomed.

"Hey—uh, I'm sorry if I approach this in the wrong way… but Ellie has told me that your mother is causing you trouble."

"Yeah," I don't know what to say, again. How do I answer this? How should I feel about this? "She's been a little difficult, but you know. It's the normal mother-daughter fight, nothing to worry about."

"Okay," he nods. "If you want you can talk to me, or Ellie—she's… she's been a little worried."

I hadn't seen that coming. Is Ellie's worried?

"I—I will talk to her. Thank you."

She doesn't want you. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.

I want to say Mr. Miller but I know he wants me to call him Joel—which makes me a little awkward. "I'm going to sleep now."

"Get the rest you need," he smiles. "Leave the cup on the table, I'll wash it."

I wake up being the little spoon.

Ellie has her arms wrapped around me like she's afraid I'll leave. As I slowly open my eyes I can also feel Ellie shifting behind me.

"Morning," she speaks in her morning voice, the vibration of her voice against my neck sends shivers down my spine—in a good way.

I smile, "Hey."

"How did you sleep?"

"More than good. Your bed is very comfortable."

"Yeah," she pulls me closer to her front, "I could stay here forever."

We don't stay there forever, though, because we open presents. It's just Joel, Ellie, and me. Surprisingly there's one for me from Joel, and Maria and Tommy.

Ellie gave me a necklace and a ring, which might seem simple to others but I had been planning on buying it for a fucking long while. It always was out of sale. And the ring had a moon on it.

"Fuck, Ellie," I say as I look at her, sitting on the floor with my legs crossed. "This is amazing, I love this."

"Yeah?" She asks. She's sitting next to me, her legs stretched out, resting her weight on one of her arms behind her. I notice she looks flushed. Her cheeks are slightly more pink than they always are.

I nod, kissing her, "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

She chuckles after I give her one last kiss, "Time to open mine now, I guess."

I look at her as she opens what I gave her. It's small, compared to what she gave me. Is just one of the first pictures we took together framed, just after I moved in. I also gave her a white silver beaded bracelet I had made.

"I remember this day," she says, looking at the picture. "I remember I was trying to impress you all day long, you know? I just wanted to make you laugh... and well, you did."

I chuckle, "I did laugh at all your jokes, but I think that's just because I have a very shitty humor."

"I'm glad we share it."

Ellie looks at the bracelet and the framed photo with a tender smile, her eyes glistening.

"I love it," she says softly, as she puts the photo down, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."

Her words make my heart race, and I feel my cheeks heat up.

"I love you too," I reply, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. I think this is the happiest I've ever been; I think I'll remember this moment forever.

We spend the rest of the morning together, laughing and sharing stories. For the first time in a long while, I feel like I belong somewhere.

After breakfast, as Ellie and I sit on the couch with our fingers intertwined, Joel comes over with a cup of hot chocolate.

"Merry Christmas, you two," he says with a kind smile, handing us the mugs.

"Merry Christmas," I say.

Alright, yeah. This might be the best Christmas I've ever had.

[cailinsblog]

A Hughes Family Christmas- Quinn hughes

Quinn hughes x reader

Masterlist

The snow was falling gently outside the Hughes family home in Michigan, creating a picturesque winter wonderland. Inside, the warmth of the fireplace and the sound of laughter filled the air as Quinn Hughes, his wife Y/N, and their five-year-old son Sam prepared for the annual Christmas dinner with the Hughes family.

"Sam, are you ready to go see Grandpa and Grandma?" Y/N asked, helping him into his little coat and adjusting his hat.

Sam nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with excitement. "Yeah! And Uncle Jack and Uncle Luke too!"

Quinn smiled as he watched his son. Sam had inherited his curiosity and energy, and he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride every time he looked at him. Sam had Quinn's dark, expressive eyes, which Y/N always said were her favorite feature.

"Alright, buddy, let's get going," Quinn said, lifting Sam into his arms. "We've got a lot of presents to open."

The drive to the Hughes family home was filled with Sam's chatter about Santa Claus, his favorite Christmas movies, and all the toys he hoped to get. Y/N and Quinn exchanged amused glances, enjoying their son's infectious excitement.

When they arrived, they were greeted by the familiar warmth of the Hughes home. Ellen and Jim Hughes welcomed them with open arms, and Jack and Luke were already there, teasing each other as usual.

"There's my little man!" Jack exclaimed, scooping Sam up into a big hug. "How's my favorite nephew?"

Sam giggled, hugging Jack tightly. "I'm good, Uncle Jack! Did you see all the snow?"

Luke joined in, ruffling Sam's hair. "Hey, buddy! Ready for some Christmas fun?"

Sam nodded eagerly, his eyes sparkling with joy. The family gathered around the beautifully decorated Christmas tree, the scent of pine and the twinkle of lights adding to the festive atmosphere.

As everyone settled in, Ellen brought out a tray of hot cocoa, complete with marshmallows for Sam. "Here you go, sweetie," she said, handing him a warm mug.

"Thank you, Grandma," Sam replied, his manners making everyone smile.

The evening progressed with laughter and stories, as the family shared memories of Christmases past. Sam sat in the middle of it all, his eyes wide with wonder as he listened to the tales of his dad and uncles' childhood adventures.

When it was time to open presents, Sam could hardly contain his excitement. He tore into the wrapping paper with glee, revealing a new set of toy hockey sticks from Jack, a Lego set from Luke, and a cuddly stuffed bear from his grandparents.

Quinn and Y/N had saved their presents for last. They handed Sam a big box, and he looked up at them with wide eyes. "Is this from Santa?" he asked.

Quinn chuckled. "Not this one, buddy. This one's from Mom and Dad."

Sam carefully unwrapped the present, revealing a junior-sized Vancouver Canucks jersey with "Hughes" and the number 43 on the back. His eyes lit up with excitement. "Just like yours, Daddy!"

Quinn grinned, feeling a surge of pride and love for his son. "That's right, Sam. Now you can be just like me on the ice."

Sam jumped into Quinn's arms, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Daddy! I love it!"

Y/N watched the scene unfold, her heart full of happiness. She loved seeing Quinn with Sam, the bond between father and son stronger than ever. She joined them, wrapping her arms around both of them in a family hug.

"I love you both so much," she said softly.

"We love you too, Mommy," Sam replied, his voice muffled against Quinn's shoulder.

The rest of the evening was filled with more presents, games, and laughter. Sam played with his new toys, showing off his hockey skills with his uncles and enjoying every moment of the festive celebration.

As the night drew to a close, the family gathered around the fireplace, sipping hot cocoa and enjoying the cozy atmosphere. Sam was nestled between Quinn and Y/N, his eyes drooping with sleepiness.

"Did you have a good Christmas, buddy?" Quinn asked, brushing a strand of hair from Sam's forehead.

Sam nodded, a content smile on his face. "The best Christmas ever, Daddy."

Y/N kissed Sam's cheek, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "I'm so glad, sweetie. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Mommy," Sam replied, snuggling closer to her.

Quinn looked around at his family, his heart full of love and gratitude. Despite the challenges and the busy schedule of his hockey career, moments like these made everything worthwhile. He was surrounded by the people he loved most, and he couldn't ask for anything more.

As Sam drifted off to sleep, Quinn and Y/N exchanged a look of pure happiness. They knew that this was just the beginning of many more wonderful Christmases together, filled with love, laughter, and the joy of family.

"Merry Christmas, Quinn," Y/N whispered, leaning in for a kiss.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," he replied, pulling her close. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Always."

And with that, they settled in for a peaceful, joyful night, their hearts full and their family complete.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 4

Part 3

Eddie gets settled on his usual kitchen barstool and watches Nancy make a pot of coffee, which is great considering he showed up at the ass crack of dawn, too anxious to wait. Well, and a day early, but sue him, he missed her. 

Nancy and Jonathan’s house is just as cozy as he remembers, while also serving as a solid reminder he’s not the only successful Wheeler. Original hardwood floors complimented with arched entryways and wainscoting. Cream and sage fill the living space, dotted with drops of gold accents. Low, soft lighting illuminates every room with warmth. It’s clean and modern, yet comforting in a way The Harrington’s eggshell minimalism estate and his own dark industrial penthouse have always lacked. 

It’s quiet and domestic and everything he’s missed about having a home. The glow in his chest doesn’t outweigh the thread of tension thrumming through him, but it does ease slightly when she hands him coffee in his favorite Garfield mug.

They catch up for hours as she fills him in on everything he’s missed. Mom and Ted finally retired down to Clearwater after Holly moved out for college. Mike and Will’s adoption went through, after working on it for years– and jesus christ, he’s an uncle now. Will’s still publishing his YA fantasy graphic novels. Mike’s a happy house-husband now stay at home dad. 

El finally quit her shitty government research job and decided she’d rather work full-time at Argyle’s pizza shop learning the ins and outs of the business. She’s better suited for it, he thinks, she’s always loved being around people and working with her hands.

She tells him about her and Jon settling into their new posts at The Chicago Times. Nancy’s managed to make friends with people outside of the Politics department. Jon’s moved from photographing for tabloids to local events like concerts and festivals, currently out of town for the weekend at a festival in Rockford. She says he’s happier now, with a job more his speed, and Eddie has to agree. Although they apparently just missed each other last fall when he’d started the job only a month after Corroded Coffin’s concert at Wrigley.

As Nancy goes on, talking about the rest of the kids while they lounge around the house, moving from the kitchen, to the living room, to the snow covered balcony so he can smoke, he tries to listen– he does. But he’s close to snapping, forced to wait so long for answers. He needs to know everything that’s happened, and why she’s the one who has to tell him. Her and Steve dated in high-school almost ten years ago, and granted they stayed close, but she’s not Robin or Max. She’s one of the few people Eddie’s closest to, except for Dustin, who could easily give him more answers than Nancy probably could.

He’s spiralling. He’s biting his nails, picking his lips raw. His leg is bouncing erratically and the only thing that helps is pacing whatever room they’re in. Nancy’s still talking about Argyle’s newest pizza recipe when he finally breaks.

“Nancy, for fuck’s sake please just tell me what’s going on with Steve.” He reaches down for his smokes but his hand’s shaking, the pack gets caught on his pocket and falls to the ground. When he bends to pick them up, the lighter follows suit and bounces under the couch Nancy’s perched on. 

A manic laugh bubbles from the pit of his stomach as he drops to his knees. Eddie briefly wonders if he even wants answers or if he’s just punishing himself. He bends forward, letting his forehead rest against the hardwood floor, cool and grounding. 

Grabbing the smokes and lighter, he looks up to find Nancy’s eyebrows and nose all scrunched up, lips pursed. She’s looking at him exactly how he knew she would, full of pity and disappointment.

There’s something underneath the expression though that Eddie can’t quite pick out– anxiety, maybe. He wouldn’t have such a hard time reading her if he hadn’t been gone for almost a year. Another reminder added to the long list of his life-altering mistakes.

Eddie stands on unsteady legs, moving to the balcony for another smoke, with Nancy hot on his heels when there’s a knock on the front door. She shoots him an apologetic look, but he waves her off. He’s waited this long for answers, what’s another minute in misery.

When Eddie’s finished his smoke, he does his best to sneak back inside without being noticed. An unfamiliar voice calls him out.

“Oh, Nancy I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company!”

Eddie pokes his head around the corner to find Nancy standing next to a petite woman with dirty brown hair and thick platinum highlights, who’s dressed in an uncoordinated riot of colors and textures. Knee-high navy blue socks, tucked into tan polka dot flats, end just below the hem of her corduroy skirt. It’s a deep brown, matching the polka dots on her shoes, and the material’s so stiff it moves around her like a hoop skirt. She’s layered a puffy-sleeved periwinkle button up underneath a teal sweater vest.

It’s an odd assortment of colors, patterns, and textures that’s not quite artistic enough to be considered eclectic or interesting. Just bizarre and– if he’s being bitchy about it– a little boring. Eddie’s worn enough dramatic getups in his life, but beige isn’t doing this girl any favors.

The petite woman is blushing, eyebrow cocked in question, and Eddie realizes she’s been holding out her hand to him in greeting while he’s standing her silently judging her, like an asshole.

“Hi, you must be Nancy’s brother Eddie,” she says. Her voice is a light soprano, tonally off in an overly polite, customer service way. “I’m Becky.”

“Nice to meet you.” He finally manages to shake her hand, noticing they’re both wearing rings on each finger topped with chipped nail polish: his black and hers a sparkly baby blue. But while his rings are chunky and silver, hers are delicate gold bands stacked to varying thicknesses. “Umm how do you know Nance?”

“Oh, we met at work,” Becky says, smile widening. “Nancy’s told me all about you.”

“Hopefully just the good stuff.” Eddie tries for a joke, but her eyes tighten for the briefest moment.

“Yeah, she told me you were going to be back in town for a little while, I just thought you were coming tomorrow, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.” She glances toward Nancy, her smile straining further.

“No it’s alright, Nance and I were just catching up.” Nancy’s shuffling her feet, eyes darting between Becky, the floor, then Eddie, and back again. Becky is staring at her too, and Eddie’s not sure he’s ever seen Nancy this anxious. She looks completely checked out of the conversation.

He’s always suspected she’s been a bit embarrassed by him. Throughout school, he was the loud obnoxious troublemaker, and Nancy the wholesome straight A student. Every new school year, Nancy spent the first few weeks convincing her teachers that no, she’s not like her brother at all, thank you. Eddie played it off when he could, and has most of his life. But to see it now, so plainly written on her face, hurts more than he expected.

“She said you’re in a rock band?” Becky asks, attempting to fill the silence left in the wake of Nancy’s awkwardness. “Very glamorous.”

It sounds slightly sarcastic, but Eddie’s not sure if he’s just feeling overly defensive. “Playing and songwriting are by far the best part. The rest is just missing out on what’s waiting at home.”

“Mmm, so that’s why you’re in town then? Missing Chicago?” She seems genuinely sympathetic, but he can’t help puffing up like an angry cat at the drip of pity hanging from her lips.

“More like the people,” Eddie snaps. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. God forbid he has a panic attack in front of the first person Nancy introduces him to when he comes home. He’d really be living up to the nightmare older brother stereotype Nancy’s dealt with her entire life.

“Well then,” Nancy interrupts, clapping her hands together loudly causing both Becky and Eddie to flinch. “Thanks for dropping off my laptop, Becky, I really appreciate it.”

“Umm, no problem, Nance.” Becky eyes her warily, but takes the cue. She turns to Eddie to say their goodbyes as Nancy sees her out.

He heads towards the kitchen to get dinner started for the two of them. It’s almost ten minutes by the time Nancy makes her way back and her entire demeanor’s changed. Her spine’s straight with shoulders back, head held high, eyes steeled with resolve. A classic Nancy Wheeler I’m going to tackle this problem head on attitude, except it’s directed at him. Which is seriously not great.

But instead of saying anything, she pulls out the same kitchen stool Eddie had been perched on earlier and plops herself down, all without breaking eye contact. He assumes she’s got something to say, he can spot a Nancy lecture coming a mile away.

Once again, anxiety’s filling out space in his chest as he finishes cooking. They sit in relative silence on the living room couch while they eat, and all he can do is wait. Eddie wants to hear what she has to say, he wants answers, but he’s dreading it all the same. She’s upset with him, which he can’t hold against her. He deserves all of his family’s rage. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily looking forward to it.

“Ok, ask me,” she states, setting the empty bowl down on the coffee table, turning fully face him. Leaning against the the armrest, she pulls one knee up to her chest while sticking her other foot right in Eddie’s lap. He matches her position, grabbing her ankle and plopping his own foot down beside her, hoping the small amount of contact will keep him grounded.

“Ask you, what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Eddie,” she says, “the entire reason you’re in Chicago isn’t to catch up with Jonathan or Mike or me.” Nancy’s chest deflates with a sigh, and Eddie’s heart breaks at the fact that she’s right. He hates himself for it, one more way he’s disappointed her. “He’s completely offline, the kids don’t post about him even though half of them have you blocked anyways. I know you probably did as much digging as you could and even though you hired a fucking private investigator– jesus christ Eddie–”

“That was only to find out where he lived, I swear.”

She scoffs, “Like that makes it any better.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, lifting one hand from her ankle to rub his eyes. “I’m sorry, keep going. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s ok,” she says, squeezing his leg. The small gesture loosens some of the building tension, and he relaxes his shoulders.

“The point is, you probably don’t know anything about what’s happened with over the thirteen months you’ve been gone. But, I just thought, if you’re going around looking for answers, it’s probably best for everyone if they come from me.”

She looks away from him then to stare out the window next to them, and Eddie can’t help but follow her gaze. The sun has long since set, the only light coming from the end table lamps on either side of them, and the street light across the way. Dark winter nights always left Eddie feeling a little hollow, a chill even the warmest blankets couldn’t chase away. A feeling only Steve could ease out of him. 

When he looks back at Nancy, she’s already looking back like she can read his mind. Except she’s chewing on her bottom lip, and when he meets her eyes, she can’t hold his gaze.

“Nance,” he says, confused at the sinking of his stomach, “why is it best if it comes from you? No offense, but you’re not necessarily as close to him as Max or Lucas, and they seemed pretty clammed up when they came around. Especially when they mentioned the fiance.” Eddie chokes around the word. Swallows around the dry bitterness coating his throat.

She squeezes his ankle again, except this time it’s too tight, her nails digging little moons into his skin. Like whatever she has to say will send him running, because everyone knows he’s a coward, will disappear exactly the same as before. It’s how he knows he’s still the same person as before– undeserving of the people he loves most– when her next words send a small shock through his system.

“Because I’m the one who set them up, Eddie. And I’m not sorry.”

~~~

Part 5

Tag List: @5ammi90

[awkwardauthorwrites]

Wildest Dreams - Epilogue

Word Count: 2k

Themes: an unbelievable about of fluff

Summary: Set two years after the reunion, and Y/N and Sebastian are (finally) getting married

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters are aged up and around 27/28 years old. Quote in bold italics is not mine. It’s from the film Corpse Bride and I love it too much to pass on using it.

Find Part One here and Part Two here

Two Years Later

Sebastian stood by the fountain at the north entrance of Hogwarts castle and couldn’t help but think of the last time he had been here - how it felt like he couldn’t get Y/N out of there fast enough. It was a stark parallel to the present, where he shuffled between his feet with nervous energy and willed her to move a little faster so that he could finally see her. When he approached Headmaster Black about getting married in the gardens he had half expected the man to laugh in his face and reject him. Instead, he clapped him on the shoulder and agreed without a second thought, muttering about how it would do wonders for the image of the school if the Hero of Hogwarts chose to return there for the most important day of her life. Sebastian itched to shake him off and find a different venue instead, but he knew Y/N wanted nothing more than to get married in the first place she had truly called home, and so he begrudgingly thanked his old Headmaster and informed him of their plans. 

They had decided to get married in the summer, partially so they wouldn’t disturb any students, but also because it offered them the best weather for their outdoor ceremony. They would have both much preferred a winter wedding so they could see the grounds covered in snow, but decided it would be easier (and warmer) to get married earlier in the year so they didn’t have to worry about constantly casting warming charms. Sebastian had to admit, the summer flowers added a beautiful touch to the whole affair, his eyes darting over the different array of colours in the gardens around him. 

“Stop moving so much,” Ominous nudged him gently. “You’re making me nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” Sebastian laughed and nudged his friend and brother back. “I’m so sorry for putting you out on my wedding day.”

“Apology accepted.” Ominis smirked at him, his head tilting to the side slightly as the guests in front of them talked amongst themselves. Sebastian began to fiddle with his cufflinks as he watched their guests arrive and take their seats, nodding in greeting to those who caught his eye. “You seem jumpier than usual, are you alright?”

“I can’t wait to see her.”

“I remember that feeling.” He smiled softly to himself as he remembered his own wedding day with Anne, how anxious he had been as he waited for her arrival. He would have much preferred to run away and elope as opposed to having all the attention on them both, but he knew she wanted a proper ceremony and he wanted to do things right by her. “We should be starting soon. Are you ready?”

“I was ready the day she said yes.”

“You’re not going to burst into song, are you?”

“Shut up, you prick.” The pair laughed as the music that was playing quietly in the background swelled and a hush fell over the guests. The officiant walked over to Sebastian and Ominis, a large smile on his face as he shook both of their hands and they waited for the bridal party.

Sebastian watched with bated breath as the doors to the castle swung open right as the enchanted instruments started to play the bridal march. The guests stood and turned to watch Anne walk out first, gently leading both of her twins down the aisle. Arabella threw flower petals at random intervals while Alexander clung to his mothers skirts, a toothy grin coming over the toddler’s face as he noticed both his father and his uncle waiting at the other end of the aisle. Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh as Alexander wrapped his arms around his knees while Arabella ran for her father, the rest of the flower petals forgotten. He scooped his nephew into a hug and pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek before passing him off to Anne who gave his arm a gentle squeeze before standing on the other end of the altar. 

Poppy and Imelda came out next, both of them looking beautiful in their bridesmaid dresses, with the former giving Sebastian an encouraging smile as the latter sent him a glare and mimed that she was watching him. He chuckled and pulled both of the girls in for a hug before they joined Anne, muttering to Imelda about how he knew she was secretly pleased they had finally decided to tie the knot. She flicked his shoulder, but there was an obvious smile on her face as she stood by Anne and Poppy. The music swelled and went quiet for a few moments before picking up again softly as Y/N appeared in the doorway.

Sebastian felt all the breath leave his lungs as she came into view and he unconsciously pressed a hand to his chest as she caught his eye and gave him a heart stopping smile. He felt his eyes burn as she started to walk towards him slowly and willed the music to play faster so she could reach him quicker and he could take her in his arms. Y/N had always been the most beautiful girl he had ever seen - even back when he had first met her - but the words did not do her justice in that moment as she practically floated down the aisle towards him. 

“Breathe, Sebastian.” Ominis nudged him gently and he took in a shaky breath and quickly reached up to brush away a tear before it could escape. He couldn’t look away from her even if he wanted to. He would never be able to put into words how absolutely ethereal she looked, her white dress almost glowing in the afternoon sun. Y/N (finally) neared him and took his hand and Sebastian was hit with a sudden moment of realisation at just how lucky he was. He was so much closer to spending the rest of his life with his best friend and he couldn’t wait. 

“Hey, you.” Y/N smiled shyly at him as she took her place by his side, his hand clutching onto hers tightly. Her gaze softened as she noticed the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes and reached up to brush them away gently. “Good tears, I hope?”

“Merlin, yes.” Sebastian breathed, his voice cracking slightly due to his emotions. “The best.” He resisted the urge to tug her against him and kiss her like they weren’t surrounded by their friends and family, and instead settled on standing a little closer than necessary and pressing his lips to her knuckles softly. “You are stunning.” 

“Look who’s talking.” Y/N’s gaze ran over his suit appreciatively and his grip on her hand tightened fractionally as he remembered that they needed to get married first before he could whisk her away and have his way with her. He was vaguely aware of the officiant starting the ceremony, sharing anecdotes about love and friendship that he couldn’t pay attention to as he stared at the woman standing in front of him. He didn’t know what he had done in a past life to deserve her, but he would spend every day of the rest of his life - the rest of their lives - showing her just how much she meant to him. 

“I love you,” he mouthed the words, his lips twitching into a smile as he watched her flush delicately. 

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.” He frowned playfully and shook his head as she continued to stare at him with pure adoration on her features. 

Neither of them could believe this day was finally here. If anyone had told Sebastian and Y/N when they first met all those years ago that they would be standing where it all started, surrounded by their loved ones, both of them would have blushed and stuttered in protest; but here they were, and Sebastian could think of nowhere else in the world he would rather be. He always thought his favourite version of Y/N would be her first thing in the morning, and that had been true from the very first moment he had woken with her in his arms two years ago up until that exact moment. Nothing would ever compare to how completely and utterly captivating she was, looking like his own personal divine being.

“...Sebastian?” Y/N muttered his name, a coy smile playing on her face. 

“Sorry. I’m here,” he offered the officiant a sheepish smile and shrugged one of his shoulders while tilting his head in Y/N’s direction as if to say, can you blame me? “Could you repeat that, please?”

“Do you, Sebastian Sallow, take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wife? To - ”

“I do.” The minister, as well as their audience, laughed as Sebastian interrupted with a cheeky smile on his face as he glanced at Y/N. He had waited so long for this moment and now that it was here he just wanted to skip forward to the most important part. He knew he should be a little more patient and show some restraint, but had been waiting for this for longer than he would ever admit. He wanted to be able to finally call Y/N his wife.

“Very well, then.” The preacher turned to Y/N, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “And do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Sebastian Sallow to be your husband? To live together in matrimony, to love, honour, comfort and to keep in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” A tear slipped down Y/N’s face as she took in the look of pure devotion on Sebastian’s face. She had never been more sure of a decision in her entire life.

“You each have a ring for the other,” the officiant looked between the pair, taking note of both of their living smiles and unshed tears. “These are placed on each other’s fingers as a visible sign of the vows which you have taken today which have bound you both together as husband and wife. I hope they always remind you of your promise and love for each other.” He looked over at Sebastian, who in turn took the ring from Ominis’ outstretched hand. He thought his hands would shake during this part, but they remained steady as he slipped the ring on Y/N’s finger, his heart thumping in his chest as he did so. 

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.” He brushed a stray tear from Y/N’s face and gently kissed the piece of jewellery before letting her turn to Anne so she could get his ring. 

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.” She repeated the vow back to him, her voice wavering slightly as she slid the wedding band onto his ring finger, the metal gleaming in the afternoon sun.

“I’ve been told you have both been through many adventures together, but let us begin this one with a kiss. I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Sebastian was already tugging Y/N towards him before the words were finished, both of his hands resting on her waist as he dipped down to press his lips to hers. He thought his heart was about to beat out of his chest as she wound her hands up to the back of his head and pulled him in closer, the crowd fading out of his mind as he held onto her tightly. Imelda whistled loudly as their kiss lasted long enough to be indecent and Y/N broke away to laugh, her face flushing as Sebastian tried to chase her lips and pull her back into another kiss. She grinned at him and pressed a sweet, chaste peck on his lips.

“How do you feel about being a married man, Mr Sallow?”

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, Mrs Sallow.”

[reveluving]

remember forever ; benny miller x reader

summary: the first snow for a family of three!

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, minor explicit language but overall, very soft!

a/n: really happy to see how much Garrett content I got to share this year, and hopefully way more to come! I can't thank y'all enough for showing so much love, especially my Garrett girls!! I ain't done with him, not especially after making an entire masterlist for him hehe! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about both fall and winter specials this year? come & check out this year's 'reve's quirky reverie' m.list! ❄️'!

'The photos were simple, with hints of uncertainty and shyness here and there, but it made you all the more you, and the bits of snow covering you made you all the more enchanting.' ;

The wonderment in your eyes upon gazing at the falling snow was a sight Benny had to take a photo of. 

Multiple, actually, knowing he’d have it saved in his phone, slot it in his wallet, in his bedside—whatever. 

Just anywhere he could have you in any way close.

But if watching his sweet wife admiring the winter wonderland blanketing the neighbourhood wasn’t already a sight to behold, then he would definitely die from seeing her with the baby boy in her arms, cooing at the snowflakes around him. 

To say that you and Benny looked forward to your son’s first snow together was a major understatement, and just when you thought you were ready to see him all snug in his first winter clothes, oh, you were solely wrong.

If cuteness could kill, you and Benny were pretty sure you would’ve died in each other’s arms right then and there.

It took everything in Benny not to stare at the two of you longer than he already did, needing to set up the camera on the tripod. His kid was no more than a year old, looking like the cutest cub in his thick bear-knit onesie, plus matching mittens and boots gifted by his brother. 

Besides Will’s, Bubba had plenty to wear for the days to come in the winter wonderland, thanks to his uncles, Frankie and Santiago. 

It had been an hour since Bubba cried, unused to the cold sensation that may have tickled his sensors a little too much when you brought him out the first time.

Now, the baby was doing great. Greater than great, even, occasionally staring at the bits of snow attached to his mittens and even your jacket with such curiosity. 

Ah, how proud he was of his baby boy.

Plus, with the pretty morning lighting, how could you and Benny not decide it was the right time to take pictures together?

And he didn't want to waste any more time, eager to take photos and determine which should be framed and/or be in the family photo album. 

Or hell, why not both?

“Hey,” He jogged over to you, his heart fluttering at the way you and Bubba lit up so similarly, “Got the tripod.”

You grinned, “Nice. I was thinking of taking it here, so it'll see all three of us in front of–”

“Ah-ah,” He stopped you, “Not before I take yours first.”

Just yours. It was tradition, after all.

You pouted because of course he would remember that, watching him set the camera on the tripod before outstretching his arms.

“C'mon,” He said with a shit-eating grin, “Just a few.”

Lies.

You fondly rolled your eyes but passed Bubba to him anyway. The toddler, ever the mama's boy, was already grumbling, making grabby hands for you. Benny was two steps ahead, though and quickly took a squeaky rattle out of his pocket, squeezing it in front of the boy to grab. Bubba, perking up at the sound, took hold of his toy, already biting down on the soft fabric irresistibly. 

With Bubba distracted in one arm, Benny adjusted the camera to focus on you.

Still, you knew Benny meant well if the way he treasured photos of you were something to go by. You shook your head in amusement, then posed and smiled for the camera.

The photos were simple, with hints of uncertainty and shyness here and there, but it made you all the more you, and the bits of snow covering you made you all the more enchanting.

But there were also candid ones; when you'd wave and catch Bubba’s attention, Benny would immediately take continuous photos of your blinding smile upon seeing your son bouncing in his father's arm, shaking his rattle at you. 

Then, he took photos of both you and Bubba together. 

“Bubba, bubba, over here, bud!”

Seeing his father waving wildly immediately caught his attention, and it only took seconds before he recognized the funny man, gurgling excitedly as he squirmed against you. 

You and Benny shared a laugh, and as if struck by a burst of affection, you cuddled into Bubba’s back, feeling him wriggle uncontrollably at the ticklish sensation as he giggled, and your husband couldn’t wait any longer. 

Immediately after Benny set the timer on, he rushed over, muttering a ‘shit’ when he slipped on ice before standing next to you. Your body trembled as he held you, still holding back a laugh after witnessing what could've been a disaster, and Bubba was no better—babbling and shaking his toy upon having his father up close. 

The sight before him was just all too cute, and Benny, despite the camera, couldn't help but kiss your cold cheek. And as the camera clicked, Benny knew this picture in particular would be framed in your living room.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: something short and sweet for our one and only before the end of the year, and more to come in the next! p.s. look at that gif :,(( LOVE HIM ;; gorgeous divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[j-onedrabbles]

First snow

❄︎ PAIRING: HAN X READER ❄︎ CW: DAD!JISUNG, FEM!READER, FOOD MENTIONS, ❄︎ WC: 1.2K ❄︎ NOTE: I got carried away…

   �� Winter was a wonderful time. Snow falling, hot chocolate all the time. 

     Jisung had a couple of days off from work and it was cold out. Naturally, he insisted on doing something with his family. 

     “You want whipped cream on yours too baby?” Jisung asked his two-year-old.

     “Yeah! And marshmallows!” She said as she did a little dance in his arms. 

     “What are you two doing?” Y/n asked walking into the kitchen, having just woke up 

     “Daddy made hot chocolate!” Soo Yun exclaimed 

      “He did?” Y/n asked, walking over and kissing her daughter on the cheek before kissing her husband's lips

     “Morning pretty,” Jisung smiled

     “Ew,” Soo Yun said

     “No more hanging with Uncle Hyunjin,” Y/n told her daughter

     “Go sit at the table baby. Daddy will bring you your hot chocolate.” Jisung set his daughter down on the ground

     “With marshmallows!” She yelled as she ran to the table. 

     “With marshmallows,” Jisung repeated as he put whipped cream and marshmallows on all three cups of hot chocolate 

     “What do you want for breakfast baby?” Y/n asked her daughter 

     “Hot chocolate!” She answered 

     “Need something else. Mommy and Daddy have a surprise for you,” Jisung told her as he set down the mug, telling her to be careful

     “Surprise?” she asked

     “Mhmm. We have to drive to it though,” Y/n joined her at the table and handed Jisung his mug.

     “Why drive?” she asked, not daring to pick up her mug and drinking up the hot liquid 

     “Because it’s far away,” Jisung told her

     “Should mommy make pancakes for breakfast?” Y/n suggested

     “Yeah!” Soo Yun smiled with a whipped cream mustache on her top lip.

     “Pancakes it is.” Y/n smiled as Jisung pulled his phone out to take a photo of his daughter. 

     Y/n got up with her mug and started on the pancakes. Jisung made sure his daughter didn't burn her mouth or spill the cup. And tell her not to pick the marshmallows out. 

     Y/n made enough for the three of them as they sat at the table eating breakfast. Soo Yun scarfed down her pancakes no matter how many times her parents told her to slow down and chew. Blaming her excitement to go to her surprise. 

     “I’ll get her ready,” Jisung offered and cleaned up their plates. 

     “Dirty! Dirty!” Soo Yun showed her dad her syrup hands. 

     “Lick it off,” Jisung suggested

     “Han Jisung,” Y/n warned him. 

     She did lick her fingers, not hearing her mom. Jisung took her to wash her hands and get her dressed. Y/n took care of the kitchen and checked on the two. Soo Yun argued with her dad about how she didn't want to wear her boots and wanted her sandals instead.

     “Babe,” Jisung sighed looking at his wife 

     “It's cold out baby. You want your feet to get cold?” Y/n asked

     “No…”

     “Put on your socks, baby.” Y/n went to get dressed and pack their bags. 

     “She’s playing till we leave,” Jisung said as he walked into their room.

     “She gets her attitude from you,” Y/n told him as he wrapped his arms around her

     “You and my mom tell me all the time,” Jisung said

     “Go get ready,” Y/n kissed his lips to send him off.

     Jisung got ready while Y/n grabbed all their snow gear. Having bought new ones for her daughter and put them by the door. 

     “Where we go?” Soo Yun asked

     “Would it be a surprise if I told you?” Y/n asked her daughter 

     “No,” her daughter replied, “I bring goka?” No matter how much Jisung tried to get her to say quokka, she still couldn't.

     “Yes, but he has to stay in the car when we get there.”

     “Okay!” Soo Yun agreed as Jisung came down dressed

     “I’ll go put everything in the car,” he offered as he slipped his shoes on and took everything out, packing up. Y/n helped their daughter put her toys away and let her grab her quokka before they put their shoes on and went out to meet Jisung. Car on and warming up. Y/n got her in her seat and Jisung locked up their house.

     Y/n put a movie on a tablet for her daughter since the place they were going was about two hours out. Didn't stop her from talking about it the whole drive. 

     Jisung kept his child entertained while driving them to their destination, his wife's hand in one of his the whole time. Music playing low in their car and Jisung singing along.

     “Look out your window baby,” Jisung called to his daughter in the back

     “Snow! Mommy snow!”

     “Yeah? There snow outside?” Y/n asked

     “Like like the video with daddy and uncles!” 

     “Less aggressive,” Jisung mumbled.

     The family pulled up to a small resort and parked the car. Jisung grabbed the snow gear out of the back while Y/n unbuckled their daughter.

      Jisung handed her Soo Yun’s snowsuit and accessories to get her dressed. Zipping her up and pulling her hood up. “You look so cute!” Y/n said as she kissed her daughter’s face, just making her giggle.

     “Come on, let’s go get your snowshoes,” Y/n picked up her daughter and brought her to the trunk. 

     “Look at my baby!” Jisung squealed 

     Y/n smiled as she set her down on the edge and got her snow gear on while Jisung put her shoes on. Once all three were ready, Jisung locked up the car and the couple walked their daughter through the snow— which seemed like a difficult task with her little legs.

     Eventually, they got to a little corner and Soo Yun took to the snow easily. Jisung rented a small sled and took her down the slopes on it—holding onto her tightly— as Y/n recorded it. Taking photos here and there.

     The couple teaching their daughter how to build a snowman. Y/n did take a moment of that to make a snowball and give it to her daughter to throw at her dad. Capturing a cute video of her running as best she could in the snowsuit, holding the ball of ice in both hands before reaching her dad and throwing it at him as best she could.

     Jisung just grabbed his daughter, held her close and kissed her red cheeks while Y/n sent the video to her uncles. Helping finish the snowman and then letting her play with it while they stood by. Jisung grabbed some photos then turned and pulled his wife in for some selfies. 

     “This was a good idea,” Y/n said as she kissed his cheek, leaning into him more for warmth.

     “I vote to make it a family tradition,” Jisung said as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

     “I like that idea,” Y/n smiled

     “Also think we should have another baby,” Jisung added

     “You miss when she was small, huh?”

     “She’s talking and walking! Soon she’s going to be in school and what am I going to do?!”

     “We’ll talk about it later babe. Enjoy your daughter's first snow for now.”

     “Mommy I’m hungry!” Soo Yun yelled

SERIES M. LIST ❄︎ MAIN M. LIST ❄︎ TIP JAR

TAGLISTS ❄︎ @starlostastronaut @want2besomeoneelse @aylinbsx @143lix @princesspanda16 @manuosorioh @delulu18 @shaylaxo @chillichillicrabcrab23

© 2023 jonedrabbles. Please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[sassenach77yle]

7x13 “HELLO, GOODBYE”

IT WAS DARK. Darker than any place he’d ever been. Night outside wasn’t really ever dark, even when the sky was cloudy, but this was darker than the back of Mandy’s closet when they played hide ’n seek. There was a crack between the doors, he could feel it with his fingers, but no light came through it at all. It must still be night. Maybe there’d be light through the crack when it got morning.But maybe Mr. Cameron would come back when it got morning, too. Jem moved a little away from the door, thinking that. He didn’t think Mr. Cameron wanted to hurt him, exactly—he said he didn’t, at least—but he might try to take him back up to the rocks and Jem wasn’t going there, not for anything.Thinking about the rocks hurt. Not as much as when Mr. Cameron pushed him against one and it … started, but it hurt. There was a scrape on his elbow where he banged it, fighting back, and he rubbed at it now, because it was lots better to feel that than to think about the rocks. No, he told himself, Mr. Cameron wouldn’t hurt him, because he’d pulled him back out of the rock when it tried to … He swallowed hard, and tried to think about something else.He sort of thought he knew where he was, only because he remembered Mam telling Da about the joke Mr. Cameron played on her, locking her in the tunnel, and she said the wheels that locked the doors sounded like bones being chewed, and that’s just what it sounded like when Mr. Cameron shoved him in here and shut the doors.He was kind of shaking. It was cold in here, even with his jacket on. Not as cold as when he and Grandda got up before dawn and waited in the snow for the deer to come down and drink, but still pretty cold.The air felt weird. He sniffed, trying to smell what was going on, like Grandda and Uncle Ian could. He could smell rock—but it was just plain old rock, not … them. Metal, too, and an oily sort of smell, kind of like a gas station. A hot kind of smell he thought was electricity. There was something in the air that wasn’t a smell at all, but a kind of hum. That was power, he recognized that. Not quite the same as the big chamber Mam had showed him and Jimmy Glasscock, where the turbines lived, but sort of the same. Machines, then. He felt a little better. Machines felt friendly to him.Thinking about machines reminded him that Mam said there was a train in here, a little train, and that made him feel lots better. If there was a train in here, it wasn’t all just empty dark space. That hum maybe belonged to the train.He put out his hands and shuffled along until he bumped into a wall. Then he felt around and walked along with one hand on the wall, found out he was going the wrong way when he walked face first into the doors and said, “Ow!”His own voice made him laugh, but the laughter sounded funny in the big space and he quit and turned around to walk the other way, with his other hand on the wall to steer by.Where was Mr. Cameron now? He hadn’t said where he was going. Just told Jem to wait and he’d come back with some food.His hand touched something round and smooth, and he jerked it back. It didn’t move, though, and he put his hand on it. Power cables, running along the wall. Big ones. He could feel a little hum in them, same as he could when Da turned on the car’s motor. It made him think of Mandy. She had that kind of quiet hum when she was sleeping, and a louder one when she was awake.He wondered suddenly whether Mr. Cameron might have gone to take Mandy, and the thought made him feel scared. Mr. Cameron wanted to know how you got through the stones, and Jem couldn’t tell him—but Mandy for sure couldn’t be telling him, she was only a baby. The thought made him feel hollow, though, and he reached out, panicked.There she was, though. Something like a little warm light in his head, and he took a breath. Mandy was OK, then. He was interested to find he could tell that with her far away. He’d never thought to try before, usually she was just right there, being a pain in the arse, and when him and his friends went off without her, he wasn’t thinking about her.

His foot struck something and he stopped, reaching out with one hand. He didn’t find anything and after a minute got up his nerve to let go of the wall and reach out further, then to edge out into the dark. His heart thumped and he started to sweat, even though he was still cold. His fingers stubbed metal and his heart leaped in his chest. The train!He found the opening, and felt his way in on his hands and knees, and cracked his head on the thing where the controls were, standing up. That made him see colored stars and he said “Ifrinn!” out loud. It sounded funny, not so echoey now he was inside the train, and he giggled.He felt around over the controls. They were like Mam said, just a switch and a little lever, and he pushed the switch. A red light popped into life, and made him jump. It made him feel lots better, though, just to see it. He could feel the electricity coming through the train, and that made him feel better, too. He pushed the lever, just a little, and was thrilled to feel the train move.Where did it go? He pushed the lever a little more, and air moved past his face. He sniffed at it, but it didn’t tell him anything. He was going away from the big doors, though—away from Mr. Cameron.Maybe Mr. Cameron would go and try to find out about the stones from Mam or Da? Jem hoped he would. Da would settle Mr. Cameron’s hash, he kent that for sure, and the thought warmed him. Then they’d come and find him and it would be OK. He wondered if Mandy could tell them where he was. She kent him the same way he kent her, and he looked at the little red light on the train. It glowed like Mandy, steady and warm-looking, and he felt good looking at it. He pushed the lever a little farther, and the train went faster into the dark.

FIREFLY ~ AN ECHO IN THE BONE

[earthtoharlow]

Teach Me: Merry & Bright

Series Masterlist

“Careful Daddy!” Jayla’s arms wrapped around Jack’s neck tightly as the snow crunched underneath his boots as he carried her to his car parked in the driveway.

“You think I’m gonna drop you?” Jack teased as he pretended to drop her from his arms, making his daughter squeal. Ariel smiled as she followed closely behind them.

Ariel and Jayla were on their way to the school's annual 2nd grade Christmas play. Surprisingly enough they both were in the play. Ariel as the narrator and Jayla was playing Elf #1. Jack was dropping them off early and would come back closer to the time the play started.

After Jack dropped the girls off at the school the two changed into their costumes, and did one more dress rehearsal with the other students before the crowd arrived.

Jayla had been in plays before but this was the first time she would actually have a speaking role. Ariel couldn’t help but snap photos of Jayla running around with the other students, excitement running through their tiny bodies.

Hours later Jack made his way down the aisle and sat front and center so that Jayla would be able to see him. Jack slid further down in his seat the more people trinkled in.

“Daddy?” He heard a familiar voice quietly call out. Turning around he saw Jayla’s head peeking out from behind the curtain on the side of the stage.

Thankfully not too many people were in his row yet as he excused himself, and quickly hopped on the side of the stage to greet her. Jack almost melted when he saw her in her red Christmas dress, hair pulled up into the perfect bun that he was sure Ariel spent a good amount of time on. He stopped in his tracks though when he noticed her lips start to quiver. “I’m really scared, daddy!”

“Oh Jayla” Jack cooed before pulling her into his chest, rubbing her back as small tears dropped from her eyes. “You’re going to do amazing!”

Jayla pulled back from the hug, eyes still watery. “I’m going to forget my lines!”

“You won’t forget them, you practiced every single day with me and Ariel—“

“…mommy.” She corrected him.

Jack had to hide his smile at the correction. “Exactly, so how could you forget your lines? You’re just nervous and that’s okay. Everyone gets nervous sometimes.”

“Even you?” Jayla questioned. While her dad didn’t perform on stage anymore, her many uncles have shown her videos of him rapping on huge stages.

“Heck yeah! I used to be terrified.”

Jayla snuggled in closer to him. “How did you stop being scared?”

Jack stopped for a moment to think before answering. “Well, I always take a deep breath, and remembered that I worked really hard on my performance. No matter what happens on that stage my friends and family will still love me.”

He could see the wheels turning in her head, thinking over what he said. She still looked nervous though. Jack lightly held on to Jayla’s shoulders and gave her complete eye contact. “Hey, you’re going to do a wonderful job tonight, Jayla Rose Harlow.” As Jack spoke those words, Jayla’s shoulders immediately dropped as she began to relax.

Jayla wrapped her arms around her father in a tight embrace. “Thanks, daddy.” She whispered in his ear.

“Anytime, babygirl! Now go break a leg!” Jayla stopped in her tracks at that phrase.

“Huh?”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “It means good luck!”

“Ooooh! Thanks!” Jayla said and blew him one last kiss before running backstage to finish getting ready. When Jack stood back up to feet he noticed Ariel standing a few feet away.

He simply winked at his wife, knowing she had seen the whole exchange and went back to his seat.

Jack eagerly waited for the curtain to draw as the lights dimmed in the auditorium. He started to feel nervous for his daughter, as his leg began to bounce in his seat.

The second grade class were all dressed as Santa’s helpers. The kids were running around on stage chasing Santa and playing pranks on him.

Jack was glad that Urban had volunteered to take photos of the play, he already couldn’t wait to look back on them. So far Jayla hadn’t had any lines, but he could see her getting more and more comfortable the more she was on stage.

He watched on as Jayla and the other Santa helpers swapped Santa’s suit for a smaller size. Laughing along with the crowd as Santa struggled to get the suit on.

Jack began biting his nails nervously knowing Jayla’s part was coming up.

Mrs.Claus slaps Santa’s hand as he reaches for a cookie. “No more cookies until you can fit into that suit!” Santa pouted.

“Maybe you should try eating a carrot, Rudolph loves carrots!” The other helps nodded in agreement

Santa shook his head, “no no! Do I look like a reindeer?”

Jack watched as Jayla tilted her head to the far left and looked at Santa and proceeded to tilt her head to the far right to get another look. “You are kind of round like reindeers body!”

Jayla's smile widened when the theater erupted in laughter. Jack’s smile was twice as big when a parent next to him elbowed him slightly and said “She was born to be on stage.”

The rest of the show flew with Jayla performing her lines perfectly. When the curtains closed, he immediately went backstage to greet Jayla with the other parents.

He stood to the back but still close enough for Jayla to see him. “DADDY!!” He heard her yell, he crouched down to her level to receive the huge hug he knew was coming. Jayla threw herself at him, and Jack held her tight as he scooped her up in his arms.

“Oh my god! Jayla you did amazing!! I’m so proud of you!” Jack said before placing kisses all over her face making her giggle.

“Hold on, are you giving away kisses without me?! Let me in on the action!” Ariel said, coming up behind him and Jayla. Jack handed Jayla off to Ariel so she could have her own time to congratulate their daughter.

Watching them together was starting to make him emotional. He tried to hide it by wiping his eyes but for some reason the tears would stop.

Holidays used to be very tough for both he and Jayla. Even just a couple years ago, Jayla wouldn’t even dare join the school play. He knew the person he could thank for that was Ariel. She’s changed their lives for the better, she was responsible for putting a smile on both his and Jayla’s faces.

“Are you crying, daddy?”

Jack took a deep breath and wiped his face again. “Only happy tears baby, only happy tears.”

***

Sorry this is so late but hope you all enjoyed this! Let me know your thoughts 🫶

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[queenie-avenue]

Hey! I saw your post about the requests and was wondering if you could write a story about Sebastian and a female MC, which contains a lot of angst ( with a happy ending ) maybe about a huge misunderstanding with jealousy on MC’s side and all is good in the end? :)

Thank you!! 💚

You're so pretty, it hurts.

—> he's so popular he can barely give you the time of day now.

⤻ reader is a female, reader's house is not specified, reader is insecure, reader is easily jealous/a bit clingy, angst with a happy ending but it's like more internal turmoil than straight up arguing, jealousy, all characters are in their sixth year, ominis is the best wingman, mentions of the events in hogwarts legacy, sebastian is on the quidditch team as a beater

note: i know that sebastian is canonically unfit, and i love him for it, but i think he would be good as a beater. thank you for the ask, btw anon! <33 keep them coming!

🦋 ⤻ archives.

Ever since the events of last year, you and Sebastian weren't that close anymore. He had promised things would be the same, but a part of you felt like Sebastian blamed you for the events that happened in your sixth year. You blamed yourself too, to be honest. If only you had been more persistent, if only you had been more persuasive, Sebastian wouldn't have lost his sister and uncle.

You still dream about the hollow eyes of Solomon Sallow, at times. Regretting how you did nothing to stop Sebastian from going down the path of evil.

Although you and Sebastian did not talk that much anymore, you still heard whispers about him. Well, technically they weren't whispers given how everyone was speaking about him to the point the whispers grew into a buzz that you could not fizz out from your brain. Your dearest slytherin boy had decided to try out for the quidditch team this year now that Professor Black finally allowed the darn sport to be played. Ominis told you — yes, Ominis and not Sebastian — that Sebastian wanted a way to let loose that anger inside him, he hoped that being a beater would help with his issues, get his mind off things.

That seemed to work, given how little he seemed to think of you nowadays.

Even now, as you sat in the library, you heard giggles from girls who thought that Sebastian looked rather dashing in the quidditch uniform or how some guys were jealous of the attention Sebastian was getting. Even some guys fancied the slytherin boy too.

You slammed your book shut and practically stormed out from the library. "A library is meant for studying, not gossiping." You muttered, overcome with jealousy, ignoring the fact that you had been gossiping with Poppy just weeks ago.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

You stood at the side of the quidditch field, staring up at the sky as the slytherin team flew overhead, practicing drills for next week's match with hufflepuff.

"You know, this would be much easier if you talked to him." Ominis said, interrupting the gawking session you were currently undergoing. You had invited Ominis over to the quidditch field in an attempt to make things less awkward when Sebastian would eventually descend from the sky back onto the green patches of grass.

You stood there alongside with Ominis, making small talk as you stared up into the sky — your eyes almost being burnt off by the afternoon sun — as you look at Sebastian flying up there.

His hair riding against the waves of the wind, the curls flapping like a bird's wings, the way all the worries in his chocolate eyes flutter away when he rides on the broom, going against the current of the wind. He looks happier, happier than he was throughout the remainder of fifth year and you can't help but feel jealous and left out. You wished you could make him that happy, so joyous that all his frustration seemed to melt away like snow when spring slowly came to reap.

Insecure thoughts plagued your mind as you played with your fingers, your head slowly dipping as it now paid more attention to the ground and dirt rather than the glorious sight that was Sebastian Sallow.

You didn't even notice when he landed and began speaking.

"[y/n]! [y/n]!" Ominis' voice brought you out of your daydream, and your eyes immediately snapped up to be met with those eyes.

"Hey." Sebastian's smirk was brighter than the sun.

Hey? Was that all he would say to you after avoiding you for the better part of the first two months of the year? "Hi." You replied dismissively, looking away. Ominis seemed to sense your apprehension as he nudged you. Poor Ominis, really.

"What are you guys doing here?" Asked Sebastian as he reached out to grab your shoulder but you simply moved away.

You would have paid to see that look on his face again.

"Just watching the show." You shrugged as you looked over at the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team that had landed. Imelda seemed to shoot a particularly dirty look at Sebastian for riding away from them. "You did well. I saw you." You commented rather stiffly.

"Yeah well, training will do that to you. I can finally walk up the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower without running out of breath!" He laughed and you responded with a polite chuckle.

Then you both just stared at one another.

"Confident about the game?" Ominis asked, attempting for what seemed like the millionth time to help with the relationship.

"Yeah." Sebastian said rather cockily, looking like the fifth year you first met. "We're going to pummel hufflepuff, just you wait." You smiled at that.

Just then, one of the other beaters, a rather tall girl practically ambushed Sebastian, throwing an arm over his shoulder. "Oh Ominis, and the new fifth year!" She said, but all you could focus on was how chummy she was with Sebastian.

"I'm a sixth year now, actually." You corrected, perhaps a bit too sharp.

"Hah, yeah, sorry. You just made an impression was all, the whole defeating Ranrok thing." The girl smiled and you could tell she was genuine in her awe of you but your eyes kept glancing over at where Sebastian and her made contact. You had no claim over the boy but you felt like your heart was shattering into glass pieces as he returned her side hug.

"We should probably head back to doing drills, before Imelda burns a hole in either of our heads." Sebastian commented, his eyes drifting towards you intently.

"You will be watching us during the match, right?" The boy confirmed, looking at you with anticipation.

You were almost tempted to make a snide remark about how he didn't need you anymore given the fact that he had a whole team and school of people who wanted to be near him.

All you did was give a simple nod before excusing yourself, not wanting to have your heart broken further.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

As he soared through the winds, your eyes still remained on him and only him. You didn't even know whether or not Slytherin was winning. You could hardly care for anything else other than the triumphant look on his face every time he blocked or parried a bludger. God, maybe a bludger to the head would help see sense and just speak to you properly about why he was acting so strangely.

You barely registered it when they announced that Slytherin had won the match, only realising it when Sebastian practically tumbled to the floor, thrown onto it by the same girl you had been so jealous of the other day.

Sebastian smiled at her and lifted her up into the air, his eyes brighter than ever.

Had he ever looked at you that way?

You wanted to puke, you wanted to scream, but you couldn't. Not here. Maybe because of your pride but the moment his eyes met yours, you dashed. Skirts fluttering in the wind as you ran and ran, practically sliding down towards the edge of the black lake. With no one there other than the mermaids at the bottom of the lake, you sank towards the ground.

Perhaps it was a bit dramatic but you were a teenage girl and you saw your crush embrace another girl like it was nothing. You think you had the right to be dramatic.

You sat down, not caring about whether or not the dirt or water would stain the fabric of your skirt. You didn't care much about anything except the way Sebastian looked so happy without you.

Had avoiding you really made him that more relaxed?

You curled up, holding your knees close to your chest as you fought back tears.

The sun had set by the time you finally regained enough sanity to wonder whether it was time to head back to the castle.

Before you could have any other rational thought, you heard the rustles behind you, your wand raised and pointed at the intruder only to see a boy with freckles dotted all over his face raising up his hands. His forehead was marred with sweat, cheeks red and mouth panting as he stared at you.

"Where the bloody hell were you!" He practically screamed, causing you to lower your wand.

"Well, I'm here, as you can tell." You didn't mean to make his worries seem like a joke but it just slipped out.

"I was-" he panted. Despite how fit his arms had gotten, Sebastian still couldn't run well, it seemed. "I was looking for you everywhere! I thought you went to go fight Ashwinders, or something! I was scouring the entire place for you." He said, approaching you and grabbing hold of your shoulders, shaking you like a mad man as he looked into your beautiful [e/c] eyes. "Don't- Don't scare me like that. Please." He begged.

"I- I didn't mean to." You replied, shocked at how emotional Sebastian suddenly was.

"Please don't do that again. You know I lost her, I can't lose you too." He said and you knew he was obviously referring to Anne and you felt pity for him, but you also felt annoyed. You wanted to push him away as he embraced you, his sweat smearing all over your dirt-stained clothes.

"If I'm so important to you," you started, "why have you been avoiding me?" You finally let your emotions spill out as you caressed the side of Sebastian's face, eyes leering over his prominent freckles. You had once joked they looked like constellations but really, Sebastian was as bright as a star. "You kept running away from me," your hands gently touched his skin, enjoying the texture of the slight stubble he had shaved. "You didn't talk to me, I thought I did something wrong."

"You did nothing wrong." Sebastian cut in.

"Then tell me why."

"It was- I couldn't help it. I was terrified. I know you promised to always be by my side. But I was so scared I'd disappoint you, I wanted to better myself. At the start of the year, throughout the holidays, I kept having the urges to use dark magic. I knew I might cave in and use it and I- I didn't want you to see me when I eventually failed." Like you, it seemed Sebastian was finally spilling out everything he ever wanted to say. "It was so stressful." He whispered, head buried in your chest.

Honestly, if it wasn't for the fact the mood was so emotional, you would have thought Sebastian was trying to cop a feel.

"It didn't look stressful earlier when she hugged you." You thought aloud.

"Is that what you're upset about?" Sebastian asked, looking up from your hug.

"Ngh.." you groaned, not wanting to admit your jealous tendencies but Sebastian simply smirked as he wrapped an arm around your waist knowingly.

"I just needed a way to vent out all that stress. Ominis suggested Quidditch so I gave it a try. I just wanted to be better for you." He whispered. "You like more athletic guys, don't you? The way you look at the Gryffindor boys when they fly tells me a lot." He said, expressing his own envy.

"I don't like other boys, I just like you." You left those words hanging in the air.

"I was scared I wouldn't be. That if I caved, you would leave, like Anne did." He said, his grip on your waist tighter now.

"Even if you fell back into dark magic, I'd be there to pull you out. I would never abandon you." You emphasised, holding Sebastian closer.

"But it wouldn't sit right with me. I wanted to let you go, that's why I didn't respond to your letters all that much during the holidays, I thought you deserved some better." He said, blurring the lines between your relationship. "But when I saw you on the first day... I just couldn't. I wanted to be selfish. But I knew I didn't deserve you, so I wanted to become someone who did."

"You were always enough." You told the slytherin boy, bending down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"I'm getting better. I don't- the urges for dark magic aren't there anymore. Whispers tempting me but when I look at you, they all disappear." He admitted, one of his hands reaching up to brush your lips, taking in the curve of your eyelashes, the blush on your cheeks and finally the way your lips were pursed. "All I think of when I see you," he breathed, inching closer, "is just how much I want to be with you." He admitted.

He was getting closer and closer until there was barely a centimetre between the both of you.

His lips were so soft.

Both of you tumbled to the ground in a passionate embrace as your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. It felt like forever as he continued kissing you, giving you only a bit of space to breathe before he dived back into your lips, wrestling your tongue like if he didn't taste it, he may die. His hands travelled up, bunching around your hair as he tugged softly, causing noises of ecstasy to escape from your lips.

"Sebastian." You called.

"[y/n.]" He responded as he pushed his lips harsher into yours.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he pulled away. His eyes bore into yours, the reflection of you sparkling in his.

"Trust me, you are enough for me." You whispered as you pulled him into a chaste kiss, something sweeter than the desperate first kiss both of you had.

"You'll never leave my side?" He asked.

"Never." You smiled.

Sebastian's tense expression finally loosened as he kissed you again. "I suppose we can't exactly call each other friends anymore, can we?" He chuckled as he dived back into another kiss.

"Yeah, and that also means you can't let anyone else hold you like this. Even your quidditch team." Sebastian laughed at your words.

"With how jealous you are, I'm surprised this didn't happen sooner."

He kissed you again and it felt like heaven.