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norrisleclercf1 · 6 months

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Just Come Home To Us

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader x Lando Norris

Rating: R

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, Smut, oral (both receiving), p in v, wrap it before you tap it, I'm sure there is some other, also this smut not the best written but hey I finished it

Our Boy Series Masterlist/ Previous: Memories of Old and New / Next: They're My Future, You're The Past

Synopsis: Things are never easy, even when you want to come home.

A/n: One more chapter before the end of Our Boy Main Story!

4 months have passed since that morning after the Monaco Grand Prix. 4 months since your husband kicked you out of the house and their lives. Painful nights alone, filled with tears and nightmares, the only comfort has been talking to Elijah and Cecile every day. Elijah was the ever-good son, telling you Charles and Lando were far from okay.

His Papa was back in therapy and felt he wasn't ready to see you, not because of the fight, but because he wanted to better himself first. You kept your mouth shut, refusing to let anger cloud your son's judgment of his Papa. Lando, Cecile told you that he was holding everyone together, but she worried no one was there for him.

It made your heart clench. Lando was the younger of you 3 and always in the middle whenever you and Charles argued. Closing your eyes, you suck in the bone-chilling air of Finnish winter. "Eh, don't fall asleep on me!" With an ache in your neck, you see your father on his snowmobile, grinning. The same grin he'd give Uncle David or Michael before a race.

"I'm not old man, just enjoying the fresh air." Words are falling off, and the blanket of white surrounding you has your eyes burning. "Just call," Mika whispers, knowing what you're thinking. He could always see those thoughts whirling in your head. An open book is what he liked to call you. "No," Your father mumbles something about how stubborn you are, kicking off the engine and leaving you as he goes through the private course again.

Why should you have to call? Charles was the one who wouldn't let you explain, even listen to you. He did what he always did: reacted first. A defense mechanism you have experienced one too many times. And this was the last time you'd be subjected to it. Charles has ripped your family apart more than once; this may be the time he succeeded.

Kicking your own engine, you follow your father to the top of the point, seeing him staring out. "He should be the one to call!" You yell, the wind whipping around you. It was a lashing you have missed, the cold turning your blood to ice and making your lungs expand to suck in the crisp air. "Why?" You hated when Mika did this. He wouldn't take your side. He said that while he loved you, that doesn't mean he'll always defend you. Sometimes, the child must fight their own battle to determine if the war is worth it.

"Why?" You trudge through the snow, stopping next to your father. Memories of being a little girl, learning harsh lessons, and the screaming matches of forming your own path. "Because he kicked me out and told me to leave. And I did. He ripped this family apart, not me." Mika turns, and you shrink back. Even after the words left, you felt their poison seep in. "The truth is a paper cut, but the lies are the bullet wounds. You did not help your cause when you continued to lie to those men. Good men who have given you a wonderful family and two gorgeous children." Mika sighs, fixing his glasses.

"You think I don't know this? What do you want me to say? That I lost sleep, sometimes sick to my own stomach, when I watched Elijah grow up? Or when Charles would whisper how much he loved Elijah and me? Because I did. I've hated myself for 16 years; for 16 years, I have lied to the greatest loves of my life. I thought Nico was my air, but he was sea. Swallowing me whole and drowning me. But Charles," You break off, swallowing your tears. "And Lando, they gave me air; for once, I remembered what breathing was like. FUCK!" You scream out into the mountain air.

"When your mother died, I felt my world slip out from under me. When you started to act out, a part of me felt like I failed. You started to date Nico, and for once, I thought you were okay. Instead, you were slowly dying inside. If your mother was here, she'd kick my ass and then yours." You laugh, wiping your tears, the cold making them burn like acid. "I failed my babies," Mika shakes his head, facing you.

"You didn't. You never failed those children, just yourself. And that's okay. Because no matter how old you get, you're still a child. My child and we Häkkinens don't make things easy. Just ask your Uncle David." You laugh, remembering how Uncle David would tell you stories about your father. "I miss them. I feel like I'm missing pieces of myself." You whisper.

"I should hate Charles for the pain he caused me, but then I remember all the pain he's been through. We're both hurt, Daddy, so I fear we might harm Lando sometimes." Mika chuckles, still picturing you 3 as the 20-something-year-olds back in the 2020s. "He's stronger than you think, trust me." Nodding, the two of you drive back down to your cabin. Slowing, you see a blacked-out SUV. "Who is that?" Mika shrugs as he stalks to his own car. "Don't know! See you tomorrow for dinner!" Scrunching your eyebrows together, you open the front door, heat greeting you.

"Hello?" Slowly entering your cabin, you stop seeing the familiar old, worn-out McLaren jacket. "Lando?" You call, boots pounding as you round the corner and stop seeing the mop of curls with little bits of grey now in them. He turns and stops, and both of you stare at one another. "Hey, gorgeous." Hearing that accent, those green-blue eyes stare at you, and everything comes crashing down. "Oh, god. I'm so sorry." You sob, crumbling to the floor.

Whatever he was doing is forgotten as he rushes to you, falling to the floor with you as his arms circle around you. "Don't apologize, please don't." He whimpers, his beard tickling you, and you cry harder, hating how much you've missed that ridiculous beard. "You're here, you're here." You repeat and pull back, exchanging messy kisses and words. "Of course I am. It's been a horrible four months. We would've come sooner, but work and," You shut him up by kissing him deeply.

Lando groans, hands digging into your snow jacket as he relaxes. Pulling apart, you take note of his words. "What do you mean, we?" "He means us." You give yourself whiplash with how fast you look up. Charles stands there, face taunt and glasses hanging onto the end of his nose. You and Lando always say Charles has aged with grace, but right now, he looks like his 26-year-old self again. And it still has your heart skip a beat. Standing, you two stare at one another as Lando looks between you.

Without a second thought, you rush Charles, and with waiting arms, he accepts you into them. "I've missed you," Whisper of words pass between you two, but he swallows them with his mouth. "Don't talk," He groans, ripping your layers off as Lando whimpers, watching you two. "Come here, baby boy." Lando blushes and grumbles about how he isn't a baby anymore. "You're still our baby," Charles's fingers tug Lando's curls, which has him staggering into you two.

"Where's the room?" Lando asks as Charles bites and sucks marks into his neck. "Down the hall to the left," You moan as Charles moves to your neck and leads you with a tangle of limbs to the bedroom. Shoving the door open, you three stagger in as they make work of your clothes. Charles stops, lifts you up by your legs, and drops you flat on your back. "Charlie," Lando whines as he lays Lando beside you.

Your husband leans back, taking in the wreck messes that are you and Lando. "I haven't even fucked either of you, and you're both so wrecked for me." Lando rolls his eyes, and you do, too, with Charles smiling. "That was stupid, Charlie. We're not young anymore." Lando teases and leans up, pulling him down by his necklace. Their kiss is soft, filled with love and emotion, and you swear you feel that hurt grow again.

Lando pulls away, gently pulling Charles's bottom lip. Leaning up, Lando whispers something to Charles, who has his eyes cut to you and grow dark. "You're right, baby." Charles presses a kiss to Lando's cheek and moves to you. His fingers brush your jaw and then cup it, pulling you up. "Still as breathtaking as the day I met you in the street." He places a soft kiss on your neck.

"A wonderful mother," Another kiss, and with each praise, he places a kiss before he kisses your lips. "I've missed you more than air," Raising your arms, he helps you out of your shirt, and Lando removes your pants. "Don't leave me again, please." Charles doesn't let you answer as he swallows your words, straddling you on the bed.

"Easy, Charles. You both need air." Lando reminds me of which has you breaking apart, chests raising and falling. He leans in, pecking you both on the lips. "I love you both so much," Lando whispers and pushes you down, smiling at you both. "Take off your clothes," Charles groans, hating that Lando is still fully clothed. "Who's needy for me now." Laughing, you help Lando out of his clothes.

"Still a pretty cock, for an old man." Charles's fingers wrap around him, which makes Lando shiver. "Speak for yourself; you're older than me." Charles chuckles, gently jerking Lando off. But Lando doesn't ignore you as he leans down, kisses, licking, and biting his way down, but he stops looking up at you. "I love you," He mouths before closing his eyes as his lips have you gasping.

"Oh, fuck." Arching your hips up, Lando's large hand pushes you back down and makes eye contact. "Does she still taste like heaven?" Charles rumbles, pulling his hand away from Lando, who whines at losing Charles's touch. Lando moans when your fingers tug at his curls each time he curls his tongue. "Mh, Lan-" You moan louder when Charles bites one of your nipples and ruts up into Lando's mouth.

Lando pulls away, and you whimper as you are close, but he shakes his head. "Charles, come here. I think you owe our girl a perfect apology." Charles pulls off with a pop and smiles. "I think you're right." Charles moves and stands off the bed, and Lando bites his lip. "Kinda jealous," Charles laughs and pulls Lando into a searing kiss. "Don't worry, you're next." Your toes curl when you feel Charles nudge you as he gets comfortable between your legs.

"Are you okay?" You stop and think this over. It probably wasn't wise to have sex before talking things through, but damn, you've missed them too much. "Yes, fuck yes, just," Charles moves and slides into you slowly, which has you whimpering. "Easy, you're okay," Charles whispers, dropping over you. His arms cage your head, taking deep breaths to calm himself. "See, old." Charles whips a hand out and twists Lando's nipple, which has him squeak.

"Jesus, just fuck me, Charles." The two look at you and stop laughing. "Watch your tone." Charles pulls back and slams back into you, which pulls out a whimpering moan. "Lando, you can fuck my mouth." Lando whimpers, hearing that, and the boys move. Charles pulls you close, and he moves in slow thrusts, and Lando gets comfortable for you both.

"I have missed this mouth. Charlie is good. But you're better." Lando whispers, peppering kisses all over your face. "Missed you too," Opening your mouth, Lando lets you swallow him as he whimpers, screwing his eyes shut. You don't know where your mind went, but every lousy thought has gone away with the two of them here. You've missed them both so much that having them close to you has made you fuzzy.

"Fuck, baby." Charles groans and drops down, covering your body with his as Lando's hips and Charles's move faster. Lando whimpers pulls away, and wraps his hand around. Charles bats his hand away and takes Lando down his throat, which has you whimpering and clamping down on your husband coming. Lando gasps as Charles sucks him dry, pushing Charles off as he drops to the bed, panting. The three of you are a mess.

"Don't leave me," Charles whispers as you tangle his hair with your fingers. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, and darkness takes you over.

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Charles doesn't know when he wakes; all he remembers is tensing and his eyes flying open. Warmth covers him front to back, and something soft is wrapped around the warmth. Scanning the room, he groans. Memories of the flight, Mika helping them into your cabin, you coming back, the sex. Fuck, he shouldn't have done that. But he missed you, having you wrapped around him as he pulled you apart.

Eyes move up, taking in Lando's puffed cheeks and mushed curls. He loved watching you both sleep; it was when you were more at peace. Rolling over, he feels his body go rigid. You weren't there, fuck did you leave. Slipping out of his husband's hold, he places a few soft kisses over the marks he has left. "Be back," Lando whines but settles back down.

Bending down, Charles slides on some sweatpants and follows the light. He stops when he sees you sitting by the low fire on the phone. "I know, baby. I'm glad you and Cecile are having fun with Uncle Carlos." Charles leans against the frame, watching. "Yes, Papa and Daddy are here," Elijah must say something because your face scrunches up.

"I don't know, honey. Um, Pa...Charles said some stuff during our fight that hurt. So I don't know if we'll get back together." Charles loses his smile and stands up straight. "Elijah, I understand you want me to talk to him, but.....listen. You tell Cecile that I'm okay. Also, please don't give Carlos a hard time, alright. Also look after the twins, oh remember that Oscar's daughter is coming to visit. Yes, Victoria. No, Elijah, don't fight with her. Just, okay, yeah, bye." Hanging up the phone, Charles quickly bolts into the bedroom.

Lying down, Lando immediately attaches himself to Charles. The door creaks open, and you slide into the bed. But you don't cuddle into Charles; instead, you roll onto your other side, back facing him.

He was losing you.

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"But, it's snowing, and I think it would be nice," Lando begs, trying to get you and Charles to do something together. "Exactly, it's snowing, and we're in Finland. It's not exactly a British winter." Charles grumbles into his coffee. "Yn, pretty please. This is the first time we're in your home country. I want to see it." Lando makes his eyes big, and Charles looks away quickly.

You groan as Lando starts to smirk, knowing he's got you. "Fine, there is a trail we can take that the locals use. It's about 2 hours, both ways." Lando cheers and rushes to the bedroom. The tension rolls off of you and Charles in thick waves. Putting down his mug, he stands and leaves you with no words or kisses.

45 minutes later, with multiple layers of clothing, you trail behind Lando, who talks Charles's ear off. "Yes, Lando, I know that." Charles smiles, kissing him gently as Lando takes a picture of the snow-covered mountains. It's another 15 minutes before Lando gets tired of you two not talking.

"Cecile was wondering if she came here and visited you," Charles staggers, but Lando catches him without a beat. "Really? I guess the kids could come here and visit." It never occurred to you that they could come out and visit. "Yeah, it's a great idea, don't you think?" Charles stops walking as you pass him, smiling.

"You could come home," Charles whispers, cheeks dusted pink from the cold weather. The scuff you let out had Lando's shoulders tense. He could feel the fight coming a mile away, and this was one place he didn't want to get stuck in the middle. "Do I have a home to come back to? Or will you kick me out again?" The sneer on your lips has Charles's face pulled tighter.

"Charlie, don't." Lando pleads, placing a hand on his chest, wanting him to calm down. "Your home is with us and our kids." Charles's voice was eerily calm, and Lando knew that all hell would break loose with one more comment. "I think you mean my kids. Or did you forget Elijah isn't yours?" It was a low blow, but all the hurt and anger you've felt over the past 4 months was too much. How dare he come here and demand you go home when he's why you're not home.

"You're right, he isn't mine. I don't even think you're mine too." Charles snaps as Lando looks between the two of you. Fear in his eyes, as this could be the end. The end of his family. "You're right! I was never yours! And you know what? I should've divorced you after you kicked Lando out. How he can still stay with you is a fucking miracle." Charles's face goes neutral, the same look he had when Mattia told him off. His emotions are gone.

"When you two get home, I hope Lando has the fucking mind to leave you and take the kids and let your worse fucking nightmare come true!" "ENOUGH!"

Charles and you jump, turning to see Lando standing there, breathing hard. "Just enough. Please?" He begs the emotions and thoughts he's held together, snapping. "What the fuck is the matter with you? The both of you?" Charles has the mind to look ashamed, as do you. "How could you say those horrible things to one another? We're married! We have TWO gorgeous children and a wonderful life. I know I wasn't there initially, that Charles held you together. That you told a lie because you were hurt and trying to not let it all kill you, but fuck."

"Y/n," Lando turns, looking at you, before taking a deep breath. "What you've done, said, it hurt. You manipulated us in a way that has cracked this marriage in a way we'll never recover from. But, you know what. I don't care. I don't; you're the love of my life and the mother of my two gorgeous, brilliant, talented children. You could kill me, and I'd forgive you. But you are holding onto such hate inside you for Nico that it's hurting us all. Nico, he," Lando sucks in a breath. "Lando, don't." "Shut up," The two of them stare at one another before Lando looks back at you.

"Nico, he didn't leave you. He bought a new apartment and wrote that letter to tell you how excited he was and how much he loved you. But you never read the letter because you thought he left you. And that's okay because if you had read that letter, you'd have never fallen in love with us, and we wouldn't have Cecile. Y/n, you're not in your 20s anymore. Please, you need that closure when you come home. Because this is not your home, please talk to Nico. There is a piece of you that you're hiding from us because of him, and I have ignored it for 16 years, but no more." Reeling from his words, Lando turns his attention to Charles.

"And you," He points his finger at Charles, who curls back like Lando has slapped him. "Grow up, get over it. She didn't cheat on us, she didn't fuck him while you two were together and then lie. She never told us who the father was; she moved the truth around. I know that losing your father and Jules was the worst pain imaginable and then losing Anthoine, and that was another person who left you. Charles, we're not leaving you, but we will if you keep shoving us away."

Charles looks away as the silence surrounds you. "Charles, Charlie, look at me." Charles looks up, staring deep into Lando's eyes. "Elijah is yours, Cecile is yours. Y/n and I are yours. Never think that will change. Elijah is your little boy, the first person he goes to. Listen to me. We're all going to therapy because I refuse to let this relationship fail. If you two don't get your shit together, I'm taking the kids and leaving. Now, fucking TALK!" Lando screams and shoves past Charles and down the trail, leaving you two some peace.

You two stare at one another; Charles opens his mouth to say something but keeps closing it, unable to say a word.

"You didn't follow me," Charles snaps his eyes, shocked at your words. "For four months, Charlie. You didn't call, text, write, or even ask about me. Four months of hell, and you come here and then demand me to come home." Stepping closer, Charles takes a step back.

"A part of me was scared that when I got here, you'd kick me out. And that terrified me. I don't care that Nico is Elijah's," Charles swallows the words and clears his throat. "I care that you didn't trust me for 16 years. Care enough to tell me the truth. After talking to Nico and reading the letters, I understand why. But, fuck," He rips his hand out of his jacket and wipes the tears away.

"It's all my fault. I went back to therapy and realized that, but a part of it is your fault, too." You scuff, but stop thinking it all over. "He hurt me more than I want to admit. I just wanted to cause him pain, and by causing him pain, I hurt us both." Charles hiccups, wiping away the tears faster. "Four months, that's how long Cecile and you haven't talked to me. We need you home. We'll go to therapy. Hell, I'll stop racing if it means you stay. I'm going to fight for our family." You throw yourself into his arms as you two cry in the snow.

"Also, Lando is ready to kill Nico on command, and so am I. Mika told us what he said to you, and I'll skin that fucker." You laugh as Charles pulls you back into his chest. "Oh, also, could you possibly call your Uncle David off. While commenting, he's destroyed Lando and me, and it's not fun." You laugh louder, but it stops when the crunch of snow has you facing the sound.

"Thank god, can we please go home. I'm about to freeze my balls off, and I know you both love my balls." Lando whines; Charles and you share a look and smile. "Yeah, let's go home."

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erinfern0 · 5 days

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simon "ghost" riley as a father

dad!simon spent endless hours building the tiny furniture and painting the nursery walls. Of course, all the equipment was picked by you, as he didn't really have a taste for those things. If he were to choose, the room would end up looking like shit.

dad!simon who smiled the whole time as you folded the new clothes and blankets, stealing some of them to feel the fuzzy material, so calming to his growing anxiety.

dad!simon dreamed of this day for so long, but couldn't help the knot in his stomach at the idea of actually being a father. The fear of turning out to be the same as his old man was disgusting, but never left his mind.

dad!simon who discussed every thought and decision with his therapist, making sure he was really prepared. Coming back after every session, he'd sit down with you and discuss everything, being so happy to feel your touch and reassuring words.

dad!simon who thinks it's a true miracle that he lived so long to carry his little kid home. Holding their tiny body in his arms, the love of his life beside him as he stepped into the house.

and now:

girldad!simon who is completely smitten with his little girl, those huge eyes staring at him as if he was some sort of angel.

girldad!simon spends his free time studying how to style her hair, different ponytails and braids, all depending on his princess's wishes

girldad!simon who lets her color in all of his tattoos, watching her trembly hands holding the newest set of body markers.

girldad!simon who teaches her how to defend herself from a very young age, starting with simple lessons on assertiveness and boundaries, through various self-defend practices.

girldad!simon who spoils her rotten, he just can't deny that pouty little face whenever he tells her no. He has his limits, but most of the time she gets all the dresses, toys, and ribbons she gets.

girldad!simon gets a tattoo of her favorite stuffed animal somewhere on his body.

girldad!simon who encourages her passions, especially when it comes to sports because that's one of the few he has any expertise on. He spends a lot of time getting to know others, so he always has topics to talk about.

girldad!simon who feels pity towards any possible love interest that might even think of hurting his little girl.

girldad!simon is often seen walking around the park, holding her hand at all times. All his scary mysteriousness disappears the moment she talks to him, Simon just turns into the sweetest parent in seconds.

girldad!simon always kneels down in front of her so she feels taller.

girldad!simon will watch any show or movie she wants, doesn't matter how 'girly' it is. Secretly enjoys Barbie movies.

girldad!simon watching her grow up and getting into make-up makes him feel very happy, but nostalgic. Reminding himself that not so long ago she was running around and playing with little bugs.

girldad!simon who always drives her around, a personal taxi driver whenever she wants to hang out with her friends.

and:

boydad!simon who focuses on making sure his boy doesn't pick the same field of work as him, no matter how much his boy idolizes him.

boydad!simon who spends most of his time with his son outside, running, playing soccer, or building him some DIY shelters around the house with branches, leaves, and stones. (my ass can't get this out of my head, such a stereotypical polish childhood)

boydad!simon who adores his boy's interest in the military, but like I said, always reminds him to pick something else. This doesn't stop him from spending hours talking about little details and stories.

boydad!simon spoils him by buying him little cars, wooden models, and sports equipment.

boydad!simon makes sure not to push his boy too much into the toxic masculinity he had to grow up with. His son can be as expressive and sensitive as he wants, there's no one to stop him.

boydad!simon who becomes his son's best friend and savior whenever he has nightmares.

boydad!simon tries to be on-trend with electronic devices, spending lots of time to learn how to play his son's favorite video games whenever the little one is asleep, so he can help him if he struggles with a mission/achievement.

boydad!simon who has to make sure his son is a responsible person, giving him adequate punishments so he doesn't think there are no consequences to his actions.

boydad!simon studies dinosaurs just because his son finds them oh so cool. After reading some articles, he finds himself fascinated with them too, sharing all the facts and sources for them.

overall:

dad!simon would do anything to keep his child safe. He'd let the world burn if it meant his little one was the happiest kid on the planet.

dad!simon gets anxious if his kids don't answer him immediately, so he made sure their phones have their locations turned on all the time.

dad!simon doesn't argue with you around the kids, any serious discussion is only between the two of you, so in case emotions take over they never witness it.

dad!simon thinks it's crucial to show up, so he rushes from his deployment to make it to his child's school play or graduation, just to be able to support them.

dad!simon encourages his kids to go and see a psychologist, even if they don't struggle with much. He understands that there are just things important to talk about, but the kid might not want to open up in front of their parents about everything.

dad!simon turned out to be the father his old man could never be. In his kids' eyes, he's a true hero and the best dad they could have.

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#riri writes #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #gender neutral reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #headcanons #dad!simon #dad!simon riley #dad!simon ghost riley #simon riley headanons

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pedriscroquettes · 8 months

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𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐙𝐎𝐍𝐄 – GAVI

summary. fighting for the top spot of your class is hard when the boy next door is set on beating you at everything.

warnings. academic rival!gavi,f!oral, academic exhaustion, & various mentions of golf.

a/n. finally getting to my follower bash lol golf vocabulary

you sighed in frustration as you failed to solve the equation, again. the work on your notebook staring back at you as if to make fun of you. you stand up from your desk immediately wincing at the pain of having your foot asleep for hours. you’d think you’d be used to it by now due to how many hours you spent seated daily.

a faint knock is heard from outside your door. you limp as you walk towards the door to open it. your dad awaits you on the other side — the other side of the door separating you from society — with an awkward smile. he hated seeing you like this, overworked that is, he always offered to hire a tutor but you always refused. you were privileged, always having the money to advance your studies but you insisted on doing everything yourself after all you wouldn’t have tutors with you at your future job.

“you know i could always ask mr. páez?” he suggests hoping to finally have you rest.

your eyes go wide at his suggestion. your father had surely gone insane. you couldn’t believe he was suggesting having gavi help you. the one thing standing between you and the first rank of your class was the sevillian. the two of you being tied for the last two years, you couldn’t let him know you were struggling with such a simple problem.

“and lose my dignity? no. i probably did something wrong when solving i’ll figure it out.” you paced around the room.

“alright. don’t stress yourself out. you can always ask your professor for help.” he sighs as he heads to his room.

except you couldn’t. you had something to prove and you would do it yourself even if it cost you your friends and social life. most especially you couldn’t lose your number one spot to gavi of all people. growing up with him had been a nightmare to your dad and his parents. the two of you constantly tried to one up each other in every subject, including sports. his parents spending endless amounts of money making sure he’d get a spot on the spanish team like he wished all his life and your father despite being a single one always made sure you were up to lessons in golf.

gavi would score a hat trick one day and the next you’d score an eagle. the day he made the real betis academy he didn’t even celebrate knowing you’d somehow find a way to surpass his achievement. and you did scoring private lessons with annika sörenstam. it also didn’t help that your parents were close friends always spending time with each other — analyzing each others weaknesses and strengths — it was an exhausting predicament. you didn’t even understand why he wanted the number one spot he already had his dream as professional football player secured.

you spent the next two hours revising your notes trying to remember how to solve a simple equation. reviewing your own work you realized you had forgotten to square root a number and instead of feeling accomplished when you turned in your assignment all you felt was embarrassment. specifically when you noticed gavi had turned in the assignment hours earlier. you could’ve cried in that moment but instead you changed into your workout clothes and grabbed yours clubs immediately heading towards the neighborhood’s driving range.

it was usually closed during this time of day but you were one of the few allowed to use it whenever you wanted. the owner of the country club along with the rest of the neighborhood expected you to make your LPGA tour debut sometime this year and thus let you use the range at any time of the day. the driving range was the only time you found peace these days. your father had expected you to outgrow the sport that eventually the pressure would get to you but it was the opposite. the sport brought you peace.

the sound of your iron hitting the ball over and over again was music to your ears. you stared as the pathway of each ball was straighter than the previous one. the faint light that illuminated the end of the driving range allowing you to see how far the balls landed. you were about to switch to your driver when the sound of leaves rustling interrupts your nightly routine. you ignore it at first thinking it’s probably just squirrels but then the faint noise turns into footsteps.

you clutch your driver scared as to what is hiding amongst the darkness. a figure emerges from the other end of the driving range and you’re about to yell for help when you recognize the gray nike tech they’re wearing. of course he was awake as well and that’s when you remember the football field is on the other side of the range. you thought it was funny how the two of you would always find time for your sports.

“do you ever sleep?” he’s the first one to break the awkward silence between the two of you.

“if i did you’d be ranked first.” you reply curtly before swinging your driver aiming your ball even further than before.

“you know some of your balls end up on my field.” he changes the subject.

“how do you know they’re mine?” you place your driver into your bag and take off your glove. you could relax for a few minutes. at least while the brunette bothered you.

“you’re the only one capable of swinging them that far.” he shrugs.

it was true. your competitiveness had allowed you to find motivation every time you swung any of your clubs. it also didn’t help that your dad would take you to the PGA Tour Championship every year and you always wanted to swing the ball like tiger woods or rory mcilroy. you were truly a nightmare for your trainers and your father never wanting to leave the course before seven pm.

“why are you here gavi?” you turn around to face him. he looked like you, tired and stressed. his eye bags almost as dark as yours. his hair messy but it fit him in a way. you realized he was probably running drills since he had an away game with the academy this weekend.

“how do you do it?” he steps closer analyzing you. he takes his hoodie off in the practice allowing for the dimly lit street light to shine on his hair. “how do you deal with all the pressure?”

there had only been one previous conversation between the two of you where you forgot about your stupid rivalry and helped each other out. it had unfortunately led to a very awkward kiss between the two of you. a kiss that hadn’t been brought up sense and placed into the back of your mind.

“i don’t. it’s literally two in the morning and i’m practicing my swing.” you let out a deep breath. “you?”

“used to have been able to calm myself down with gummies but they don’t work for me anymore.” he places his hands into his pockets suddenly embarrassed at his oversharing. “been trying to find another way to ground myself but even football can’t do that for me right now.”

there’s a loud silence between the two of you. his suddenly burst of oversharing breaking boundaries that had been pre-established between you and him. you barely notice the way he gets closer to you almost as if you let him get near you.

“gavi no offense but why are you telling me all this?” you say with valid points as the brunette had never once tried to make an effort to talk to you before.

there’s a long pause between your question and his answer. he debates on whether he should he completely honest with you or to compress his feelings for even no longer.

“because i hate the way everyone just likes you and the way you sailed through school and can work for hours on end without getting tired and the fact that you just did work for two days straight and still look perfect, because you always do-“ his eyes go wide at how much he’s confessed already. “it’s not fair that you can just be relaxed after all th-”

“sailed? sailed?!” you simply stared at him with disbelief. “gavi i worked my ass off to get to where i am today. my dad didn’t pay for me to have advantages, i didn’t get everything handed to me on a silver platter, i did it on my own. do you realize how many hours i spend daily on my work? on making sure you don’t take away my spot?” your voice roars through the empty driving range.

“i didn’t-”

“no. let me finish gavi.” you continue your rant. “also it’s not fair that i can be relaxed? you think this is relaxing? swinging golf balls at two in the morning? you’re an unbelievable conceited prick. you don’t even need the number one spot anyways you have a guaranteed spot for club and country. you’re set for life?!” you stare at him with utter disgust.

“you’re set for life too? your dad literally owns the biggest food provider in sevilla you’re guaranteed a job at his company.” he fights back. “you’re nothing but a brat.”

he drives you against the hard cold wall of the concessions stand with each harsh word he says. his insults grow harsher but you hardly pay attention the veins in his neck gaining your attention with every hateful word he says. maybe it’s the lack of sleep or vitamins in your body but you suddenly forget he’s the guy separating you from achieving your lifelong dream of disassociating yourself from your dad’s company.

he notices your thoughtful glare as he continues on and on with his rant without any interruption from you. your eyes digging into his in a way they never have. his hand creeping too close to your face and not to harm you but rather to just feel your warm cheeks against his palm. the two of you get lost in each other’s stress and pain. his lips finding their way to yours in a dominant kiss.

it’s embarrassing for the two of you just how quickly you forget about your hatred for each other. maybe you’d go back to despising each other for pursuing each others dreams after the kiss but right now you could only find a stress reliever in each other. his lips are soft but harsh on yours. you’re not looking for a sweet moment but rather a quick and dominant one to forget about your current problems. many groans leave your lips as he makes his way from your lips to your neck.

he’s careful not to leave any marks but he attacks your neck in a pleasuring way. his hands digging into your hips as you adjust your neck to give him more access. he carefully unzips your jacket careful to not damage it. he’s not sure if it’s because he hasn’t gotten laid in months but as soon as he sees your laced bra something shifts in his mind. his kisses trail down from your neck to the valley of your breasts. this time he sucks above your right breast intentionally leaving a mark.

he looks up to your pleading eyes. he knows your look. so he gets to the point, kneeling down, and with your leg on his shoulder. he drags his hand up teasingly until his fingers are practically teasing your core. your panties ruined from your wetness he quickly pulls them down immediately stuffing them into his pocket.

“can i?” he asks one more time to confirm.

“mhm.” is all you can afford to moan.

“i need words princess.”

“fuck. yes gavi.” you groan.

he starts slowly kissing your thighs up to your aching core. his fingers digging into your thighs to spread them apart more to give him full access. you audibly moan as his tongue makes contact with your folds. your hands digging into his hair pulling on it the more he licks. his tongue moving from your folds to your hole causing you to lose balance at the pleasure. but luckily he’s there to keep your balance. you can’t help yourself from grinding into his face his nose beginning to come in contact with your core.

he continues licking you for a little before bringing his finger to your core teasing you with it. he drags it up and down your thigh and above your core just to tease you.

“do you want my fingers?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“yes. fuck.” you lean your head backwards.

he slides his finger through your folds lubricating it with your wetness before bringing it to your hole slowly inserting it. he groans at sight of you clenching around his finger. he pumps his finger in and out before adding his tongue again. the two of them providing a mind blowing experience for you. he manages to hit the spot with his finger curling his finger to reach an unexplainable amount of pleasure.

“c’mon baby. let all that stress out.” he moans as he puts in a second finger. it’s almost embarrassing the way you melt into his touch.

you don’t realize that gavi finds this intimate moment just as pleasurable as you do. the way your leg wraps around his shoulder, the way your fingers grip his hair, and your high pitched moans all sent shockwaves down his body. he wasn’t going to admit but all his previous sexual experiences consisted of jerking himself off to some random chick on the internet. this didn’t even compare to the real thing. having you tremble under his touch was intoxicating.

he starts feeling you shake under him realizing you’re close to achieving your high. all you need is one final push. he adds a third finger and sucks at your folds like a mad man. the knot that had formed in your stomach breaking loose as you cum all over his face. your hand holding his tightly as you reach your orgasm. he licks you slowly as you come down from your high. eventually finding the willpower to step away from you.

you bring him towards you kissing him. his lips tender and full of your juices you can practically taste yourself. his hand wrapping around the back of your head to bring you closer to him to deepen the kiss. the two of you briefly forgetting that tomorrow you’ll be back at each others throat. his brown eyes bore into yours and somehow you think you’ve found a comfort zone where you can relieve your stress.

#uhm idk spent all night on this 😍#pablo gavi smut #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi x reader #gavi smut #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #football imagine #football smut #gabri’s 800 bash

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axelsagewrites · 1 year

Text

Robb Stark*Cloak

Pairing: Robb x F!Reader

Platonic: all Starks x Reader, Sansa x Reader

Summary: When the reader returns to winterfell after being attacked she finds herself having night terrors again and only one person is able to make them stop.

Word count: 3486

Warnings: references to an attack but not explicit details, mentions of nightmares/terrors, mentions of bullying

Masterlist Here

Part two linked at bottom

Every summer or so your family travelled to Winterfell for the children to mingle and the fathers to talk business. It had been this way as long as you remembered. Being a couple of years older than Sansa meant she ran about after you, loving to copy after you and listen to your stories. You were also a year younger than Robb whom you had a complicated relationship over the years. As very young children you played together often, playing with toy soldiers and making up make believe games.

Once Sansa started tottering after you when she was seven, you ten, and him eleven he finally seemed to realise you were a girl and pushed you into the mud when you tried to join in with Theon, Jon, and him. When he was fourteen and you thirteen, he began to just avoid you mostly though when he was sixteen, he started to steal sideways glances and saying sweet words. Pretty words that were met with harsh words in return.

Somewhat to his credit Robb did try and apologise to you last summer for his actions as a child but you just smiled and told him it no longer mattered. There was now a civilness between you both but little more.

However, this summer and last were different by far. In between summers you had been out on a horse ride with your friend and a stable boy at your grounds, but you were not alone. When you rode deeper into the woods, your friends lagging behind, you felt someone pull you from the horse. The attack left you bruised and badly injured, but you had managed to survive it and that’s what people always told you. You’re okay, you’re fine, it could be much worse.

The stable boy had been the one to help you as your friend tore off on her horse to find help which luckily came in time. If not for the stable boy flinging himself on the man and helping your claw at him, you probably would not have survived.

Your parents offered to let you stay home this summer, but you figured maybe it would be good for you to roam a safer place. Winterfell had brought you so much comfort as a child that you looked forward to return.

The Starks had heard of the attack and sent letters at the time but when you climbed out your carriage you were met with Sansa running into your arms. “I’m so glad you’re alright,”

Your hands flew to stroke her hair, placing a kiss to her head, assuring her you were fine. It was ironic in a sense. Ever since the attack you felt the need to reassure everyone around you but yourself. Each Stark in turn including Jon offered their deepest sympathies and sweet words.

All but Robb. He was the last in the line to greet you, knowing you were here for his sisters more so than him. “Lady (Y/N),” he said as he took your hand to press a kiss to its knuckles. You bowed your head with a polite smile. You felt Robb give your hand a squeeze before he released it, “You look as radiant as last time I saw you,”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a small smile curling into your lips, “Thank you my lord,” you said before continuing your duties. You weren’t sure if it was the normalcy of the comment, the compliment itself, or the fact that Robb didn’t feel the need to extend you pity or have you reassured him that made a warmth grow in you. You never realised how much you valued normalcy until he had said it.

The day was pleasant enough if not enjoyable. You ate lunch and dinner with the Starks, Sansa making sure to be beside you the whole time. You sat in with her and Arya’s lesson and watched Bran try teaching Rickon to hold his wooden sword. The only problem was everyone wanted to know what had happened.

Sansa had asked about the details, Arya seemed to get a kick out the idea of fighting a grown man. Catelyn kept constantly assuring you of your safety which while sweet wore on. Jon listed all the things he would’ve done to protect you. Even Ned had asked about what had happened, something you did your best to be vague about especially with the girls. Sansa because she was sweet, Arya because she seemed to be getting ideas. Not to mention your parents constantly checking in. it was exhausting.

Despite being mentally so tired you lay in your chambers unable to sleep that night. The next day you were mostly fine on the outside despite your groggy nature which you blamed on the excitement from the day before keeping you up. The next you managed to sleep but it was the nightmares that disturbed you.

You did your best not to remember the attack but at night you seemed to relive it. waking up shaking and panting, tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to remind yourself you were so far from home but that didn’t seem to help. Perhaps it was talking about it that had brought these nightmares back. Or maybe fate was just cruel.

By your seventh day in Winterfell, you were exhausted. Of the six night you had slept four and of those four nightmares raged through them. Some woke you up for a few minutes while others kept you up for the rest of the night. Heavy lilac circles rung around your eyes which threatened to close in a moment’s notice.

“Perhaps some milk of the poppy would help?” Sansa suggested at breakfast after you finally confessed to your nightmares.

You shook your head at her words, “Last time that just made it worse. I still had the nightmares I just couldn’t wake up,” When the attack first happened nightmares happened almost daily for the first month, but it was different, “(Y/F/N) stayed in my chambers with me every night for two months until she was sure they had stopped,”

“Maybe I could stay with you,” Sansa offered, clutching onto your arm, “Lady could sleep there too and then she’d be able to protect you,”

You smiled at her but again shook your head, “Your sweet Sansa,” you told her, running a hand over her hair, “But I need to sleep on my own. I cannot have someone sleep with me every night,”

Sansa nodded as she turned back to her breakfast with a sigh, “I just wish I could help,”

While you loved her dearly Sansa’s version of helping was to tell practically her whole family who told yours who just questioned you more on the dreams. By lunch you had had enough and excused yourself to the only quiet place. The library.

There was a fireplace that you didn’t bother lighting and half the books seemed untouched. There were a few tables and chairs dotted around the room and two armchairs placed near the fireplace. You took up a spot in one of them, pulling a random book from a shelf. Your eyes threatened to close with every word you read, and you didn’t even notice that you had dropped the book as they finally fell closed.

You woke up to a crackling fire and fur nuzzling your nose. Sitting up from your slouched position, the cloak slipped down off your chest. Your hands traced the edge of the fur lined wool that someone had placed over you like a blanket. The book you had been reading was placed beside you, a bookmark in the page you were last reading, and someone had obviously taken the time to light the fire but not stay to enjoy it. no one else was in the library and you couldn’t notice any obvious signs of someone coming in.

the room was solely lit by the flames as you noticed the darkness out of the windows. Stretching your arms, you began to get out the chair, picking up the cloak when it fell. Its fur was ever so soft, and the wool was thick that you wondered how you had not overheated. The black leather detailing on his clasps and pockets were crisp and precise. This was not a cheap cloak, and someone had left it to keep you warm without even leaving a note.

You raised it to your face, the fur tickling your nose, and inhaled its scent. A warm feeling flooded your heart as the woodsy smell filled your nose. It smelled fresh and earthy while also having misty fragrance to it. the smell made your lips turn up as your hands stroked its fur.

As you walked back to your chambers you noticed the emptiness of the corridors on your way. It was clearly far later than your nap was supposed to be. When you entered your chambers, you saw a jug of wine and plate of bread and cheese on a table waiting for you. This was when you realised just how hungry you were as you devoured the food. You weren’t sure if the one who had left the cloak had sent it or whether your absence at dinner, which you were sure you had missed, had caused someone else to send it up.

After eating you laid in bed, the cloak sitting on a chair in your room, and tried to sleep. Despite the nap you were still tired, but your lids did not close as easily as last time. When you sat up you saw the cloak again. Without thinking you padded over to the chair, snatched up the cloak and returned to bed, laying on top of the covers and instead used the cloak as a blanket. It was warm and as toasty as the fire had been. The furs nuzzled into your face and coaxed you into your dream filled slumber.

The morning rays woke you for the first time in over a week. No nightmares plagued your sleep, and you woke up without screaming or tears. For once you finally felt well rested. The sleep had done you well and you enjoyed the morning, braiding your hair, putting on your favourite dress, before going on a walk of the grounds. All this before breakfast. And still in the cloak a stranger had left on you.

When you entered the hall for breakfast you were one of the last there, but you were in the best mood out of all of them. “Good morning sweet Sansa,” you hummed as you took your place beside her, taking the cloak off, and began to butter your toast.

“You’re happy,” Sansa said with a frown.

This made you laugh, mouth filled with toast, “Is that so wrong of me?” Sansa shrugged but kept her eyes on you, her eyes squinting, “If you must know I slept nearly sixteen hours, nightmare free might I add, and have never felt better,”

“Oh (Y/N) that’s wonderful!” She praised as she clutched your arm, “We were wondering what you were up to yesterday,”

“To be honest im surprised I never woke up to a search party,” You laughed, and Sansa rolled her eyes and removed her hands from your arms.

“As tempted as we were Robb told us you were fine,” she said and your eyebrows knitted in confusion, “What? He said he ran into you at the library reading then that you told him to tell us you would be taking dinner in your chambers so you could have an early night. Did something happen?”

“No, no its fine,” you said, shaking your head trying to think, “It must’ve slipped my mind. It was a very good sleep after all. Its left me dazed,” you said but you knew you had never spoken to her brother yesterday let alone tell him your dinner plans.

Your fingers trailed over the fur of the cloak that was sitting beside you as you realised whose scent had lulled you to sleep. Almost as if it were fate this was the moment Robb had decided to come in with Jon beside him. “Robb where’s your cloak? You’ll freeze to death,” Catelyn chastised her son who had snowflakes scattered along his shoulders. Robb glanced at you before telling his mother he was not cold, “You better not have lost that cloak Robb. I paid good money for that,”

“It’s in my chambers I just forgot to lift it and didn’t wanna go all the way back,” the lied effortless fell from his tongue but you felt his eyes on you moments after. Your hands instinctively clutched the fabric beside you.

As you, Robb, and Jon had been the last to arrive it was no shock that you were the last in the room. Sansa had waited for you initially, but you told her to hurry to her lessons, not wanting her to be late. While true it was also because you had been eating your toast ever so slow so you could hang back to speak to Robb.

When she finally agreed and left the room you waited a moment before crossing the room to where Robb and Jon sat. You held the cloak out to Robb who turned around to look at you. It was the first time you had noticed how soft his eyes were and how strong his jaw was from this angle. And how his hair curled, so soft and perfect looking, “Thank you lady (Y/N),” his words snapped you back from reality as he took the cloak from you. You felt the flush that crossed your cheeks but ignored it as you turned and walked away, feeling unable to even speak suddenly.

You couldn’t like Robb? Not Robb surely? Jon perhaps. Theon maybe. Not Robb? Your parents had suggested the match a hundred times and Catelyn herself even hinted. It would be too perfect to be true. But the way his eyes looked at you…

You did your best to ignore the feeling creeping into your stomach the rest of the day and decided to just try and enjoy the day. It was going well, and you even managed to enjoy dinner though the whole time you kept stealing glances at the eldest Stark who on occasion even caught your eye with a slight smirk. For whatever reason that stupid smirk made your skin tingle more.

Then finally it came time to sleep again. You were tired from the day which you had thoroughly enjoyed but you lay in bed for hours unable to sleep. Yet again. You felt like the gods were torturing you. You couldn’t handle another nightmare or another sleepless night. Swallowing your pride, you wrapped yourself in your own cloak and quickly walked the halls before finding yourself at Robb Starks chamber and knocking on the door.

Then the reality of the situation set in. how stupid you looked standing in front of a boy’s chamber you rarely spoke to ask for his cloak to help you sleep. Quickly you turned around and went to walk away when you heard the door creak open behind you. “(Y/N)?” Robb asked, his voice heavy with sleep that made the way he said your name even sweeter.

You turned around with a sheepish smile, “Hello,” you said, biting your lip, “I need a favour,”

Robb nodded before he ushered you into the room and closed the door behind him. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he led you over to a chair which he pulled out for you before sitting on the edge of his bed across from you, “Is everything alright?” his words grabbed your attention.

You played with the hem of your sleeve as you spoke, “I know this is gonna sound really dumb but I couldn’t sleep and I was wondering if maybe I could borrow your cloak?” you said, looking up to meet his now awake eyes, “Also thank you for today well yesterday now or well the day before in the library and that it was the first good sleep I had in a while and yeah and like thanks I guess,” your words flew out without you thinking, your skin burning hot.

Robb sat up slightly, his arms resting on his thighs to prop him up, “Why do you need my cloak?” he asked.

“It helped me sleep,” you confessed, your eyes falling to your hands that began to pick at your skin.

The room sat in silent for a few moments and finally you braved yourself to look up at Robb who must think you were a total creep. Instead, he was smiling softly, “That’s cute,” he said as he gazed into your eyes. A smile crept onto your own lips as you looked at him. Robbs hand went forward to hold yours, stopping your picking, “You shouldn’t do that though,”

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,”

“I get nervous,”

“I know,” Robb said as his thumb began to rub over your hand, “Do you want to tell me about it? Or if you’d like we can just sit here,”

“I’d like that,” you confused as your hands squeezed his and he squeezed back. The comfortable silence washed over you both. “Thank you by the way,” you broke the silence moments later, “For the food and the cloak and that,”

“It’s okay,” Robb said as he took your hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it, “You looked so peaceful in the library. I couldn’t help but stare a little,” he said with a slight chuckle, “You were so beautiful but then you began to shiver,”

The way Robb looked at you felt so genuine, so tender. His thumb running over your hand, his eyes gazing into yours. “Should I fetch my cloak then?” Robb asked, pulling away from you and already you missed his touch but nodded.

Robb stood and crossed the room to fetch his cloak to bring back to you where you stood by the door. Robb walked closer to you but made sure to leave enough room for you to move out his way if you wanted. He brushed a stray hair strand that had fallen out of place behind your ear. His fingers softly trailed your jaw after before falling from your face.

Without thinking or warning you sprang forward, your arms flinging round his shoulders as you buried your face into his chest. His arms quickly wrapped around your frame and pulled you closer, the cloak falling from his hands. You breathed in his fresh woodsy smell that burned your nose with a sweetness.

You felt one of his hands holding your head, the hand almost the size of it. yet it made you feel safer. He began to stroke your hair, the other hand wrapped around your back to pull you closer. Tears welled in your eyes, “I was so scared that day,” you confessed.

“It’s okay,” Robb murmured, “It’s okay ive got you. You don’t have to worry anymore. You’re safe now,” he assured you as he stroked your hair.

Soft sobs left your lips and Robb placed kisses to the top on your head and held you as you cried. “Everyone expected me to talk about it and explain- “

“You never have to explain anything to me,” Robb said as he pulled back and took your face in his hands. His hands were rough but held your face so gently, “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. Im here for you, okay?”

“Thank you,” your said as your voice croaked, “Do you think,” you started, your eyes flickering away from his for a moment, “Do you think I could stay here tonight?”

“Of course,” Robb said, placing a kiss to your forehead. “I can sleep on the floor, or the chair and you can take the bed. Or I can go sleep with Jon or- “

“You don’t have to,” you interrupted him, “I mean if you don’t mind. I’d like you to stay in the bed with me,”

Robb nodded as he pulled back out of the embrace, he had held you in, “Of course I can. Whatever you need,”

You took your cloak off and Robb helped you into his bed in your night clothes before joining you under the sheets. Your head rested on his shoulder and his arm snaked under you, pulling you gently to lay on his chest. He held you in his arm, his hand resting on your waist. Without thinking you took his spare hand into yours. Your nose nuzzled into his chest, his scent making your eyes flutter shut. “Thank you again,” you murmured as your eyes grew heavier.

“Anything for you love,” Robb placed another kiss at the top of your head, “Just get some rest. I’ve got you okay. you’re safe now,”

Part Two Here

Taglist: @clairacassidy

#robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark fluff #robb stark angst #game of thrones fluff #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #got #got imagine #robb got #robb stark x reader #game of thrones angst

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readychilledwine · 9 months

Text

Requiem for a Dream

Part 4 : Closer

(Three Months into Rhysand's return home)

Rhys is left with no choice but to call the bargain with Feyre in, but it turns out the anger the cursebreaker fills him with is the perfect catalyst.

Warnings - a lot? NSFW, Smut, Penetration, rough sex, d/s dynamics, bratty behavior, mentions of self pleasuring, mentions of voyeurism and exhibitionism, degradation and praising, light impact play, alcohol use. Let me know if I'm missing something?

A/N- this is the end, my loves. From here forward would begin the journey that is ACOMAF but with my OC. I'm interested in diving into a tense dynamic between her and Feyre that is very much an enemies to friends trope. I just do not know if I will. If you are interested, this one is pretty obvious to the gurlies with a banging time playlist, "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails

Part One Part Two Part Three

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Rhiannon could hear Rhys arguing with Feyre. The bargain they struck had begun zapping him this morning and used that small piece of him that lived inside of her to force him to feel her emotions. Panic, fear, depression. He had tried pushing it aside as long as he could before getting too angry to ignore it any longer.

Rhiannon had dressed him impeccably for his first outside of the court appearance since leaving the mountain. He looked like a God. His fitted black trousers, a black shirt, and jacket with embellished lapels. His swirling chest tattoos peeked out from under his clothing. She, admittedly, had been drooling over her husband.

In her mind, his outfit highlighted the return to health he'd undergone. It showed that his court was thriving under their strong high lord. Appearance was one lesson she took very seriously from her own father. Even if Rhysand hadn't repaired his court alone, she ensured it looked like it he did.

The other high lords did not need to know she had been a driving force in how quickly they recovered. They didn't need to know Azriel and Cassian had made examples of every single male that stepped out of line. That Mor and Amren had slapped the Court of Nightmares back into shape with two long visits. No, she'd allow her mate that credit, especially when it was Tamlin having to face it. She ran a perfectly manicured nail along the rim of the crystal glass before refilling it with the sweet red she had stolen from Rhysand's cabinet.

She smirked as the doorway to their room, and then the bathroom, slammed open and shut. She had been teasing him all day. Sending him images of her playing with herself, sending him images of last night when she was watching him with his cock in her mouth. Now, she sat in their oversized tub, drinking wine, and looking out over their court, she regretted nothing about the bratty behavior she had sent him despite his multiple delicious warnings. Not when it would become this.

She could feel is rage ripping through the bond like wolves. But all of that stopped the second he saw her, naked and wet, in the steamy haze of their tub. "Are you going to join me, or just stand there?" She looked back at him over her shoulder. She watched his eyes go wide and his smirk grow. She took it one step further, wiggling her hips at him.

He growled at her, immediately pulling his clothing off. "Stay right fucking there. Do not move."

"Right here?" She motioned to the bench her knees were on. "Right in this spot?" She had arched her back and leaned forward out of the tub, allowing him a full view of the absolute present she was offering him. She smirked as he was instantly in the water and over to her within seconds.

His hand found purchase in her hair, pulling it to arch her back even more. "Teasing me today, little mate? Do you think it was really appropriate to send me images like that while I was trying to save the cursebreaker?" He placed kissed along her neck and jaw line before whispering into her ear, "Did you enjoy fucking the toy I bought you? It sounded and looked like you did, pretty little thing."

She smiled ferally while looking up at him. "I did no such thing, Rhysand. Are you sure your mind isn't playing tricks on you? We both know old age has started to take its toll." A harsh smack found her round ass making her cry out in pleasure.

"Flithy, fucking, liar." He smacked her ass again, enjoying the way it bounced as his hand made contact, then again and again. He didn't stop until her legs were slightly shaking and her ass was red from the continued strikes. "Am I going to have to fuck some manners back into you, Rhiannon? You are a High Lady. You should behave with more respect."

She felt herself dripping at this point. Rhiannon loved when Rhysand was a gentle dom, but the degrading, angry male she was dealing with right now was her absolute favorite. She loved when he fucked her to release his frustration, and they had a month of build up to this moment.

She'd spent the past month teasing him. Anything from sucking his cock in the broom closet or under his desk, to having him walk into their shared bedroom with her fingers buried inside of her, to riding his thighs in his office, to begging him finger her under a blanket at family reading night, she'd teased her mate with all she had to offer to lead up to this moment, and he had teased her. He'd wake her with his tongue between her legs, he'd send her memories of them. He kept her on edge constantly.

He reached over her, taking her wine and drinking it. "Did you get that cunt ready for me? Or were you unable to follow that order as well?" He ran a single finger along her folds, groaning at her wetness before pushing it in and making her gasp.

She kissed below his jawline, laughing in a way that had his hand wrapping around her throat and him growling in her ear. She began to ride that finger, then the second he added, moaning before finally answering. "Oh High Lord, didn't you just accuse me of showing you how pretty I looked fucking myself with that toy? Did I not do a good job positioning myself in front of the mirror so you could watch every single inch sink into me?"

"Fucking brat." His fingers withdrew from her and went to his cock. He lined himself up and was inside of her within seconds, his hands gripping her plush hips as he immediately set a punishing pace. Rhiannon screamed at the intrusion before quickly falling into moans and whimpers. "What's wrong, pet? Nothing to say now?" She whimpered at a harsh thrust.

The stretch of his cock had her drooling. No toy compared to her mate. To her husband. Every drag had her eyes rolling back, lips parted as she panted in bliss. Her hips began to meet his as his wings appeared, flared wide in dominance. He was growling and moaning behind her, causing her own pleasure to soar higher and higher.

"Such a fucking tight pussy," another hard spank had her squeezing him and crying out loudly. "Gods I've missed your cunt baby. Feels so fucking good. You were fucking made for me." Another spank, then another. Rhys had his head thrown back as he heard his mate crying out below him. He tilted his head, instead watching her reflection in the glass windows as he fucked her into oblivion.

Rhiannon was a true ethereal beauty. Her lips were slightly open, whispering his name and praises, her golden skin flushing with the power of his hips meeting her own, bouncing her full ass on his hips and thighs. Her perfect tits. Her small trim waist. Her head fell softly back in pleasure before falling to the side, her back still arched as he took his pleasure from her.

She was twitching around him with every rich heavy drag of his cock against her. She was begging him for more. "Rhysand, please," a soft moan fell as he moved to angle himself and her to kiss her. A sharp well aimed thrust had her pulling her lips away, "Oh fuck, Rhys!" He began to speed up, hitting that spot. The one he knew all to well from their time together. "Fuck! Yes! Yes! Right there, Rhys!" Her walls were fluttering more and more, the coil in her stomach tightening. "Please! Rhysand please!"

Rhys knew one thing to be true as his name started to fall from her lips in constant breathy moans like a mantra:

He never wanted anyone the way he wanted her. The way he craved her. Whispering her name was enough to breathe life back into places Rhysand didn't even know had died inside of him. She was his. He was hers. From the day he swore those vows to her, until the day they parted this life together.

He felt their bond glowing brightly between them, shimmering and dancing as if it had come alive at this final act of their reunion. He knew also then that he'd never allow anything to come between them. Never again.

"I'm so close, Rhys," he kissed her neck. The hand holding her throat ran down her body as water splashed between them. He found her clit, ghosting it.

"Me too, Rhia. I love you, baby. You know that?" She nodded, whispering to him how much she loved him in return. Her walls were pulsing around his cock, begging him for his release. "I want you to come for me. Come for your high lord."

Rhys pressed on her bundle of nerves, groaning as her pleasure shot through their bond like a well timed arrow. They tumbled over the edge together, Rhysand moaning so loudly he knew the mountains shook as Rhiannon screamed his name. He allowed her to relax, enjoying her little wiggles on his cock as she spasmed below him. He placed gently kisses to her shoulder, coming down much quicker than her and whispering praise into her rounded ear.

She was glowing, and it was then that he remembered why he kept her ready for him at all times. She looked like a goddess, her power humming and replenishing some piece of the realm with the extra magic and energy she found in release. Her eyes were shut, and she circled his neck with her arm, pulling him into a passionate kiss as the bond began to settle back down.

"I missed you," He pulled out of her and pulled her into his lap as he sat in their tub. He pulled the bottle of wine and glass back over to them before taking a drink and offering her one as well.

She placed small kissed on his jaw line. "I missed you too." She leaned her head on his shoulder, her fingers lacing with his free hand resting on her stomach. "You two were fighting?"

"She threw her fucking shoes at me." Rhiannon paused looking at him before bursting into laughter. "Rhia, this isn't funny. She threw her Godsdamned shoes at me. One hit me, darling."

"Do you have a booboo?" She began checking him over, dramatically looking for any signs of damage. "My poor Illyrian baby! How ever will you recover? Should I call for Madja? Maybe she will put you on bed rest for a week. I will stay by your side and be your nurse if I must."

Rhys nodded with a smirk at his wife's antics before making eye contact with her. "Keep up that behavior, and I'm going to fuck the attitude right out of you. Your sudden lack of manners is appalling. You spent far too much time with Cassian and Azriel."

Rhiannon smiled, pressing a kiss against his lips. "I apologize my powerful, handsome, intelligent, and cunning mate." He pulled her into another kiss. "Make me a promise, Rhys?" He nodded at the request. "Promise me from here forward we do all of this together. No more one of us is left behind, no more you self-sacrificing, no make fake facade that I am just your little piece of eye candy. Us, from here forward, working together as a team."

He nodded, kissing her shoulder. "I promise you, from here forward, I will take you with me wherever I go, that I will involve you in my choices and decisions. I will never allow something like this to keep us apart for so long ever again. That will end your position as a spy, though, Rhiannon." She nodded at the expected condition. "The priestess knows you are my High Lady," he waved his arm, unglamoring the swirling pattern that covered her right hand and arm. The tattoo he had placed into her skin once she was sworn in as High Lady in secret. "It's time for our family, court, and other High Lords to know as well." He kissed her hand, and each finger.

She leaned in capturing his mouth with hers and relaxed into a long slow kiss. One that was vastly different from the previous they've shared since his return home. It was filled with love, joy, anticipation. She gave him every single ounce of passion she had in her soul and he returned it with his own. They pulled apart, catching their breath together as Rhysand rested his forehead on hers.

"We will begin that process once dear Feyre Cursebreaker is back in Spring. Rght now, darling, we are going to our bed together. So I may ravage you over and over until you are nothing more than a silly cock drunk whore." She giggled as he lifted her out of the water, carrying her bridal style into their room with a wide smile on his face.

"I love you," she whispered as he laid her down on the silk sheets.

"I love you too, Rhiannon."

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

@horneybeach1

@we-were-beautiful

@cat-or-kitten

@twsssmlmaa

@dream-alittlebiggerdarling

@tothestarsandwhateverend

@wallacewillow0773638

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand acotar

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drawnfamiliarfaces · 7 months

Note

please tell me about the headcannons for the First Ninja 🙏

!!! ;D Since you asked so nicely! ;3 uuuuhhhhhh lets see...some of my personal headcanons for First are:

He is baby of Norisu Clan, aka the Youngest child.

He barely remembers his parents, for they died when he was young (courtesy to Sorcerer and thus one of the many reasons Norisu Clan sought to defeat him), so he was mostly raised by his Oldest Siblings.

When he was younger (toddler-ish age), he was dotted upon by his older siblings, so he was kind of a brat, since he was used to being center of attention and being taken care of (tho he grew out of it pretty fast).

When he was younger (more teenager years) his hair used to be longer and he wore it in topknot (think Samurai Jack style).

And all of his Siblings were gone, he cut his hair off to honor their sacrifice and make a promise to finally defeat the Sorcerer (think sorta that Zuko scene from ATLA lol).

So, when we see First in Flashback of Ultimate Lesson, with his tiny ponytail, its (canonically i think?) several years after inprisonment of Sorcerer, that little tuft is what managed to grow back. (cause i think its interesting that we never see First out of the Ninja Suit in 13th Century Ninja episode)

Speaking of 13th Century Ninja episode(I both love and hate that episode so much man): I headcanon that most of First's behaviour can be explained by stress and despair he started to feel after loosing his siblings (also probably mild sleep deprivation from nightmares and ptsd). Which was why he seemingly 'gave up' so easily (like ??? ugh).

The other contributing factor is First being confronted by unrelenting dumb optimism/hope of Randy and suddenly strongly reminded First of himself, when he was younger and still believed his clan could defeat the Sorcerer and how he was that same ray of hope for his older siblings who were becoming weary from the battles. But he is older now, and no optimism or hope helped to save his siblings from the ultimate sacrifice, so he understands that darkness his family tried to protect him from much better now.

So basically I like to think younger First was a lot like Randy in many ways, especially in that assurance/confidence that any mistake can be fixed.

First is a great sea farer! Canonically, Norisu clan followed Sorcerer across the sea (according to Secrets of the 9 i think?), so they would have spent months/if not years at sea. And if First was young, it would have left a great impression on him, that expierence and time on the open waters.

That man can not cook to save his life, and he lost most of his appetite after his family's sacrifice, that's why he is rather scrawny.

First is not the best Ninja of Norisu Clan. He grew up in the protective shadow of his more talented and powerful Older Siblings, who in turn taught him everything they knew. So he might not be the most powerful of his Norisu Siblings, but he is the most rounded in his abilities and the most balanced one. ;)

hmmm i think im done for now ;D ask me later for more, maybe i'll have some more concrete ideas ;)

#que?#rc9gn first ninja #first ninja #rc9gn #i also have a couple headcanons for norisu clan in general. plop plop and etc. but i decided not to overload the post haha #maybe will write it out later #note: Aniue (japanese) is an archaic version of respectful address to an older sibling (typicaly brother)#i thought it would be more fitting than Aniki or Onii-sama

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anxiescape · 7 days

Note

NEW CLOAK REBORN!!!!!

Oooh! A fun one! 🤭 Okay, so New Cloak Reborn is a one-shot spinoff of Stargaze. You know when Wukong really pissed off the Celestial Realm and they eventually sent down Erlang to capture him? Well, there’s this one thing that Erlang says in Stargaze that’s pretty darn creepy:

Erlang: I find your kind to be rather hideous… (eyes Liu’er in a creepy way.) But your pelt will make a fine cloak. (Liu’er feels a shudder of fear/disgust roll down his spine, but he isn’t even able to respond before Wukong lets out an ungodly bellow of rage and throws himself at Erlang. A few blows are exchanged before Wukong locks eyes with Liu’er.) “LIU’ER!!!” Wukong screamed. “GO!!!”

Anyway, the chapter ends with Wukong being captured, and then the gods come back a year later or so and burn the mountain. Liu’er survives and manages to scare them off. Well, in New Cloak Reborn, Liu’er doesn’t survive. He is overpowered by Erlang and his brothers, and well… when Wukong gets out of the furnace, and sees the glittery new fur pelt that Erlang is wearing…

Wukong screamed. He could do nothing to stop the terrible sound tearing its way out of his throat, and all other beings in the room were forgotten as Wukong lunged for Erlang. The god reached for his sword, but Wukong moved so fast that Erlang could barely wrap his fingers around the hilt before the monkey was on top of him. Wukong’s voice was inhuman—ungodly, deafening as he howled like an enraged banshee. He clawed at Erlang, his nails tearing both cloth and flesh. He moved to tear the pelt from Erlang’s shoulders—that bastard had no right to even look at it, let alone touch it—but the moment Wukong’s fingers touched the strands of black fur, he pulled away as if he’d been burned. The fur… was so cold. Lifeless. It felt wrong.

… yeah, he’s not having a great time. Wukong is inconsolable and enraged, and he ends up being slapped right under Five Phases Mountain without the fun pillars lesson from Buddha. And when Guanyin eventually comes along to invite him on the journey, she finds a horribly depressed monkey that wants nothing more than for his suffering to end. But… she has a deal, should he choose to accept it.

“I have spoken with the Diyu. Complete this journey—see that Tang Sanzang is safe throughout his travels—and when you have successfully completed this task, Liu’er Mihou will be returned to you.”

Obviously, Wukong accepts. Originally he just goes along to fulfill his part of the deal, but over time he grows to care for the other members of his little group. By the end, he is still quiet and solemn, and he is resigned to the prospect of a future without Liu’er (he never fully trusted Guanyin’s promise). He hopes that Liu’er would be proud of the changes he’s made in himself: he’s less foolish, thinks a little more before acting, etc. And when he finally comes back to Flower Fruit Mountain… Well, here’s a little more from one of the last chapters, since I do love my happy endings:

There was someone waiting for him on the other side. They were dressed in gleaming white robes, with the faintest of pale pink lotus flowers embroidered along the edges. And their fur… Wukong would recognize that glittering midnight pelt anywhere. He had seen it in his dreams, as well as his nightmares. But unlike the last time he had seen it, the fur was now attached to a living, breathing being. One that he had never thought he’d ever see again. “Welcome home, Shí Hóu,” Liu’er said softly.

Woohoo! A happy ever after, with lots of tears and hugs and long awaited cuddles. Both of these monkeys have a lot of nightmares ahead of them (Wukong’s are of seeing Liu’er’s pelt/dead body, while Liu’er’s are memories of being skinned alive… 😳), but now they have each other again and it’ll all be okay. Liu’er gets to meet the other pilgrims, and modern day Monkie Kid happens a little differently than in the show… but you’ll have to wait until I’m finished writing. 😜

#ask #writing wip #monkie kid fanfiction #six eared macaque #sun wukong #stargaze #stargaze au #shadowpeach #fanfic wip

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iguessigotta · 1 year

Note

Eddie gluskin with a pregnant darling maybe

you know what's funny about Eddie Gluskin being one of my faves? i am terrified of pregnancy just headcanons for now - this ended up being more an exploration of the inherent horror of this situation than anything shippy, whoops. also kind of an au where Waylon does not survive his encounter with Eddie 18+ just in case CW: injuries, noncon, hostage, pregnancy, suicide mention cannibalism(?) probably more i missed. (no r*** - it is alluded to tho) i mean it's Eddie. the man is a walking billboard for "dead dove do not eat" ok lmao

being Eddie’s darling wife was a living nightmare

you’d been one of the few employees allowed near Eddie, and he’d developed a….thing…for you. well, not you, really, more the idea of you

and when the Mount Massive asylum fell into chaos, you were one of the unlucky people trapped inside

when Eddie found you he was quick to make his image of you your new reality

whether you wanted it or not

you’d initially fought him at every turn. unfortunately, Eddie had a temper, and was prone to snapping with no warning

you’d learned that lesson the hard way - your forearm was still in a makeshift splint, a dull ache where he’d fractured the bone in a fit of anger. or had he broken it? you weren’t sure. all you knew is it hurt like hell and made it nearly impossible for you to fight back

after that incident, you thought keeping your head down and quietly obeying him was the smart choice. that you’d be safe enough to ride out this mess until someone arrived to help

you had to believe that someone was coming. you told yourself you’d be rescued within the week, that there was no way a facility as large as Mount Massive could go down in flames like this without someone noticing

days turned into weeks, weeks into months (how many had it been? 3? 4?)

every night you sat, ankles bound to your chair at the end of some wobbly, bloodstained table, Eddie at the opposite end, a makeshift dinner spread between the two of you

occasionally there would be some sort of meat among the sawdust-flavored rations - Eddie was always vague when you asked him what kind of meat it was

you resisted for the first month, but your resolve broke a week into the second, the hunger pains driving you to tears and forcing you to make a choice

so you ate. and you tried not to think about where he got it from

it was like the two of you playing some sick game of house

Eddie kept a close eye on you when he was around, restraining you when he wasn’t

you’d be tied to a chair. strapped down on your back atop some bloodstained hospital mattress. arms bound behind you, tied to a support beam and forced to sit on the cold concrete floor

all of it was miserable

Eddie said it was for your safety, but you knew better. especially after he’d found you with a knife you’d managed to get your hands on. he’d stopped you from trying to slash your own throat, spewing some bullshit about his darling preferring death over a blissful life as the proud mother of his many, many children

he wasn’t going to let you leave him in any way

some part of you thought about pleading with Eddie to “think of the baby” and untie you - but that only reminded you that you were, in fact, pregnant

and it was starting to show

whatever mental energy you could spare went to trying (and failing) to block that fact out of your mind

you felt like you were trapped in two horror stories simultaneously - one, enduring whatever Eddie decided to do to you on a daily basis, and two, the unwanted life growing inside you against your will

not to mention the mental anguish of what to do after the…birth. would you even survive that? would you want to?

should you try to raise and protect it? or would it be more merciful if you…

it was a horrifying decision to make, one that you flinched away from whenever you found yourself thinking about it

every day you wondered if it would be better to piss him off, have him kill you in a fit of rage. it wouldn't be hard to do, but for some reason the knowledge that you were pregnant stopped you

well, you told yourself, at least you got to skip Eddie’s “operation table”. all the men who came before you weren’t so lucky, if the video on that camera you found was to be believed….

#dead dove do not eat #reader beware #eddie gluskin x reader #yandere eddie gluskin x reader #this is straight up horror reader is having a bad time #in so many ways!#eddie gluskin headcanons #outlast x reader #kinda sorta tempted to write a short fic exploring this absolute nightmare but idk #we'll see idk #no beta we die like men #no kids allowed #sorry if this isn't what you were looking for anon i just had ✨ideas✨ and ✨thoughts✨ in my little head #anyway Eddie Gluskin is horrible and I love him everyone look at my nasty blorbo he's awful <3 #requests #inbox is open and I'm in the mood for horror so #eyes emoji

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erule · 2 years

Text

High school heartbreaker | s.h.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: You were in love with Steve when you were in high school together, but he didn’t know about that. Now you meet him by chance at college and you wonder if things could change.

Warnings: kinda rom-com with some clichés probably, unrequited love, A LOT of angst, fluff, mention of nose bleeding, mention of smoking, language, jealous!Steve, mutual pining in the end, happy ending, Robin, Eddie

Word count: 3K

A/N: hi! I wrote this based on a true experience, except for the fact that this ends well. Steve is my favourite character in Stranger Things and he was beyond perfect for this story. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer! Hope y’all like it. Enjoy! x

First day of college and you’re terrified.

Why? Well, let’s start from the beginning, shall we?

So, three months ago, you said goodbye to your school, then to your friends, then again to your best friend (who was supposed to go to college with you, before she betrayed you to follow the “cool guys”) and, last but not least, your high school crush. He was the first person you met on the bus on your first day of school, then he became your friend, but even if the two of you were never really close, somehow your heart managed to fall in love with him. The issue with that? He was in love with someone else. Of course. He dated Nancy Wheeler and you were just the friend that sometimes comforted him during their fights. You were important. So, the last day of school, you hugged him and said: “To new adventures, Steve. Maybe we’ll meet again in the future” and he just smirked at you. It was the moment you knew that he never loved you.

Anyway, now you’re on your own again after all of these years, while Steve’s probably far away with Nancy, having the time of his life. That’s how being a teenager should look like, right? Society tells it every day, but it doesn’t happen to everybody. You can also be alone and succeed, but it doesn’t mean that you’re lonely.

You finally arrive at class. The professor still has to come along, but people are already saying that he’s annoying. How great. You wonder what they’re thinking, while they’re talking with their friends. It seems like you’re the only one without one, as usual. High school was a lot of things, but at least you had your best friend to go through everything. Now it’s different. College can be scary, but you just have to breathe. So you take a deep breath, eyes closed, for three seconds. When you open your eyes, you see that the professor is entering into the room so you turn to your right in order to take your block notes.

“Hey,” somebody says and when you look up your heart begins to race faster than ever, while your brain still has to process who just spoke.

No way.

“What? The cat ate your tongue?”

Your eyes grow wide, but fortunately the professor ask for some silence to begin the lesson.

“Steve?”

He gives you a smile.

“The one and only”.

And this, this feeling of being on fire, is exactly how you know that your crush on somebody has never gone away.

You’re in the bathroom, door closed. This is not something that was supposed to happen today! How can he be at your college? Studying the same things as you? This has to be a nightmare. Does it mean that there’s also Nancy around the corner? No, this is going to become really painful really fast. You thought that you had already being punished enough, when you were forced to see him with Nancy every damn day for the last three years at school, but it seems that you weren’t.

You see a pair of shoes under the door and you gulp. Nancy?

“Hey, are you okay? You seemed pale when you arrived,” somebody says.

You’re so relieved that it’s not Nancy, that you open the door and hit the girl. She yells something, when you see that her nose is bleeding.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry! Here, take a napkin,” you say, but she shakes her head.

“Don’t worry, it’s not painful as when I saw my best friend wear a sailor’s uniform for work,” she said, but you just looked at her, confused. “Anyway, I hope that you’re okay”.

“Me? You’re literally bleeding!”

“It’s nothing. Some jokes on my friend and I’m gonna feel better instantly. You’ll see. Come with me, you should meet him,” she says, while looking at her nose in the mirror. Now it seems better.

“Okay, thanks. This day feels like a nightmare to me already,” you say. She furrows her eyebrows.

“Yeah? Why?”

“I don’t know anybody, except for my high school crush, who wasn’t supposed to be here anyway,” you confess her and now you feel relieved, somehow. Talking about it makes it seem more stupid and less of a problem.

“High school crushes are the worst, trust me, I have a lot of experience in this topic. But tell me more! Did you date them?”

“No, he was dating somebody else the whole time. It was exhausting,” you say, then you look at her and you wonder if you saw her in high school too. “What’s your name, again?”

“I didn’t tell you. I’m Robin!” She exclaims, before you stop in front of her friend, who’s smoking a cigarette with some guys outside the college. “What about you?”

You freeze.

“Robin?”

“Yeah. What happened? Are you okay?”

You swallow some air, when you look in front of you, only to see him winking at you.

“Is that your friend?” You ask her, pointing at him.

“Yeah! How do you know that?”

Fuck.

“I’m…”

Absolutely screwed.

“Y/N!” Steve says, while walking over you.

“Wait, you’re Y/N? The Y/N?” Robin asks and now you’re more confused than ever.

“How do you know me?”

“Y/N, apparently you met Robin. Robin, this is Y/N, we used to take the bus together. I don’t know if you had ever saw her with me in high school”.

“We weren’t really close in high school, Steve…” You say, feeling a burden over your chest.

“But I saw you,” Robin say, while observing your face. You probably look guilty, right now. Maybe she knew that you liked him, but she has now the confirmation of it.

“We used to take the bus together, that’s all,” you repeated.

“You know, I recall the once you asked me if we were friends and I told you no, but three months ago, when you said goodbye to me, I thought that we totally were. Things change, Y/N”.

Not everything, no. Not your love for him.

“It’s weird, because you used not to know a lot of things about me. You probably don’t even remember what I told you that day,” you say, but your heart knows that you’re lying, because you secretly hopes that he does. That he noticed you.

He shakes his head.

But sadly, you’re never wrong.

“I don’t. Was it important?” He asks you, while he lights up another cigarette.

Robin’s looking at you, but you pray that she can’t see your heart breaking into your eyes. It’s just water, after all. But before that, it’s glass in your eyes. Two pieces of glass that you hold with every strength you have in yourself.

“No, it wasn’t,” you say, with a smile. That fake smile made you survive high school with him.

Then, you apologize to them, but you’re “really busy”, so you “have to go” as far as possible away from this horrible situation. You run to your house, feeling too overwhelmed by everything to think straight, to say hi to your parents, to even breathe.

You were sure that he knew that you liked him more than as a friend in high school. You didn’t expect him to care, you didn’t even want him to acknowledge it with you, but that was enough. He crossed the line, when he tried to be charming again, even if he had a girlfriend. When he winked at you, as he did every damn day in high school. When he tried to be funny with you. You just want some peace.

Two weeks after that, though, you find yourself following Steve again as in high school. You wonder if things can change now, if you can be friends with him like you’d be with another guy, but when you see him winking at you while you’re staring at him smoking, your heart tells you the answer: No. But you try to be that anyway, because you love the way he makes you laugh while you’re trying to study or his dumb jokes about the professors. He always seems so full of self-confidence, he could light up a whole room. Your eyes are always on him as if he was the sun. Too stunning not to look at him. Too stunning to burn your eyes.

“It’s a matter of fact, Y/N: I’m the best at it and you know that”.

“At picking horrible movies? Yeah, I agree with that,” you chuckle.

“I literally work here, Y/N, you’re ruining everything with the clients! Come on, choose something cool for tonight,” he says.

“Footloose is off the list, Steve, don’t give me the puppy eyes,” you reply, while taking Back to the Future.

“Marty McFly? Really?”

“Oh, you know my type: sarcastic, sweet and reckless,” you joke, but the look he gives you is very much eloquent, alongside his crooked smile. Your cheeks are made of Hell’s fire, right now.

“Sounds almost as awesome as me, baby,” he says, but even if his tone is ironic, you doubt that he’s trying to flirt with you, because for a moment it seemed like that.

But you are probably wrong.

***

It has been a month since that day. Robin didn’t say anything to you about Steve, but you know that she understood what’s going on. Luckily, she’s a good friend. You have grown closer to them, but also with another guy, Eddie. He likes playing D&D, rock music and he makes a lot of jokes. He’s really funny, but every time you see Steve, your heart aches in your chest. That’s why you’re thinking about going to another college. You’re sick of feeling that way and the exams are getting closer and closer. Eddie said that he could come with you, since he doesn’t have any friends anyway.

You’re trying to study in your room, when you hear a knock. You turn around, only to see Steve waving at you. He seems to feel the coldness of the air, because it’s raining outside. You open the window, so he can come in.

“There’s the front door for this, Steve,” you say.

“Usually, you say hi to people before you scold them,” he jokes, but you don’t laugh.

“I’m not in the mood. What do you want?”

“Why are you not in the mood?”

“Is there anybody else you can annoy? Robin? Nancy?” You ask, but he glances at you because of the irritated way you said the last name.

“Nancy and I broke up,” he say. Time freezes all around you. You finally look at him, at his face and you gulp. He’s still handsome as he was in high school and this is tearing you apart. It’s incredible how much power he still has over you. He never treated you right before, but you thought to see something that others couldn’t that you loved: his vulnerability, his kindness and his tormented soul. Being the king is amazing, but wearing the crown could feel like a burden, sometimes. And well, you can feel lonely under it. “This Summer, actually”.

You swallow.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say…”

“Don’t be. Now ask my question: why are you not in the mood?”

You shrug.

“It’s nothing, really”.

“Y/N, talk to me,” he says and the way his gaze caresses your shape makes he seem hopeless.

You sigh.

“I’m thinking about moving away,” you say. He doesn’t move a muscle, but the light of your lamp is drawing some scribbles into his eyes.

You wonder if he despise your idea, but before he can say anything, your phone begins to buzz. He notices it and when he sees who’s calling you, he clenches his jaw.

“Don’t answer that,” he orders.

“What? Steve, it’s Eddie”.

“We’re in the middle of something, Y/N”.

“It can wait”.

“No, it can’t!” He exclaims and you flinch. He breathes out, then he puts his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just… Oh, come on! Just give me some attention, for once”.

“For once?” You ask him. Eddie stopped calling. “I gave you three years of my life, Steve! I’m still doing it”.

“I know,” he says, without pride. You feel a knot in your throat, now.

“You’ve been knowing it all along, right?”

“No…”

“You made fun of me!”

“No, Y/N…” “You loved to be a heartbreaker at high school, didn’t you? Well, you fucking broke my heart, Steve! I hope that you’re happy with it”.

“I didn’t know!” He shouts. You look at him in disbelief. It’s not possible. You thought that he noticed that three years ago, that he knew everything by now… Did you just confess it to him? “If you’d just let me explain… Oh, for the love of… Robin told me, okay? Robin told me that today. She said that I had to stop you, that I was the only one that could. Our college is the best one and you deserve the best. So I asked her why I was the only one to make you change your mind and she said… You know what she said,” he says, without looking at you, but you want him to tell it. To tell what you’re not brave enough to say out loud.

“I don’t”.

He looks at you and you see that his eyes are glossy as yours. It seems almost too painful for him than to you. He’s praying you with a gaze not to say that, but you’re firm. It’s the closest thing you can ask him to say to you to an “I love you”.

“That you’re in love with me,” he says and a sob escapes from your lips. “You’ve been cruel to yourself, Y/N”.

“No, that’s exactly what I deserve to be in love with someone selfish and egocentric like you”.

“I’m not like that anymore, Y/N. Let me prove it,” he says. “Please.”

“I’m not falling for your lies again, Steve. Now get out”.

“I’m gonna leave college!” He blurts out and you freeze again.

“What?”

“So you don’t have to do it”.

“You’re being insane, Steve. Go to bed,” you say, then you take his wrist in order to kick him out, but his skin is burning. He squeezes your hand.

“I remember,” he says. “And I didn’t answer. I’ve been regretting that moment since you walked out the school. I didn’t know what to say”.

“Steve, it’s okay, it’s not that important…”

“No, it is. It is for you. You said: Maybe we’ll meet again. And I didn’t care, because Nancy was about to break up with me and I was losing my throne. And you were just a stop along the ride,” he says and your heart aches for that. “But I was wrong. You’ve been my friend when everybody else was pretending to be one. You loved me even if I didn’t treat you right. You comforted me when I fought with Nance, because you saw me. And you walked past my flaws, every fucking time. I used to think that the worst thing I did in high school was losing Nancy, but now I think that breaking your heart was. I regret not telling you that I imagined that you liked me, because maybe I would have known you better and I would have felt what I feel now for you”.

You feel overwhelmed by his last sentence. It’s what you have always desired to hear from his mouth, what you have always wished for at every birthday of yours, yet it feels just sad now. Perhaps, it’s too late.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m jealous,” he says and you see in the way he flexes his muscles that it costs him an enormous amount of strength to pronounce these words. “Of Eddie. And I know that I have no right to say this, but I am. He was the first one to know about your decision, while I was the cause of it. It broke my heart”.

“Now you know the feeling,” you say, with a smile.

“I guess so. Y/N, please, don’t go. We deserve a chance”.

You look at his hand, that is still on yours and something in your lungs stops working. It’s like you’re out of breath. The emptiness can’t be filled by air, because that has always been his place to be. Not in your heart, but in your lungs, to be oxygen for you to keep walking. To keep living.

“You’re not entitled to be jealous, but neither was I at the time and yet, I was. So I get the feeling, Steve, but I don’t want to be just a replacement of Nancy for you, because I’ve been waiting for this moment for years. You don’t know how painful it is to love somebody who doesn’t want you. And I’ve wanted you for so much time, Steve, so much time…”

“I know, Y/N, but you have to trust me: I see you right now. I see you, standing in front of me and I think that you’re beautiful. And too smart to date somebody like me, but still, I’m praying that you do it anyway,” he says, with a genuine smile on his face and you feel a sense of warmth into your chest.

“You should stop talking and start kissing me, right now,” you reply and so, he does it.

It’s an explosion in your stomach. It’s a dream that comes true when you’ve lost all of your hopes. It has come the day that you’ve finally felt like everything is in its place: his lips on yours, for example. The rain on the leaves in your garden. The heart in your chest that doesn’t hurt anymore.

He finally fixed what he broke a long time ago.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #erule's masterlist #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington hc #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #joe keery x reader

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punkassfrance · 17 days

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Sierra Nevada - Chapter I - Ellie/Abby

Chapter I: Donner (Work Length ~1.4k) This work is rated M for canon-typical violence and gore. Please look here for a full list of warnings for the series, specific warnings will be provided at the start of each chapter. This work contains passing mention of cannibalism and discussion of a massacre. (Aftermath- corpses, smell, etc.) Full Series - Next Chapter

“Even though I told people to call me Linda, that was another girl’s name. I had to change my name several times because of what I had done, or rather, what had been done to me.” - Aimee Parkison, “The Innocent Party”

Abby

It was hard to say exactly what happened to the Fireflies. They didn’t have much to go on, once Abby and Lev finally made it to Catalina island. There were no notes, no maps, no audio logs explaining everything they needed to know. From what did remain, Abby could only say one thing for sure- it was a fucking bloodbath.

The bodies weren’t fresh. They weren’t old, either. Sometime between 2425 Constance and the moment they made it to the island, the Fireflies were wiped out. It had been a few weeks, maybe a month since the bodies hit the ground where they laid. There was no getting away from the smell; nowhere on the island was safe from the harsh reminder of whatever had happened.

Some of them looked like they went down fighting, gunpowder residue still on their fingers. Some were executed. There were missing boats along the docks- some must have made it out alive, she thought with the last bit of hope she had left. It didn’t last long.

Lev looked up from the shambles of the Fireflies, looking to Abby for hope, a plan, anything she could offer. They’d spent almost two years looking for the Fireflies, they’d been so close. It was all Abby had wanted.

But they still had fresh rope burn. They both still hungered from the pillars, and she had injuries to take care of from the cure. She still tasted blood, and tried not to focus too hard on what was stuck in her teeth.

“…come on, Lev.”

That was almost a year ago, now. Maybe if they weren’t both exhausted, starving and beaten like dogs, they would have kept looking. They wouldn’t have given up on the Fireflies.

But Santa Barbara changed things. After all they’d seen, all that had happened, some part of Abby decided it was just over. All Lev wanted was to be with Abby, and all Abby wanted to do was get the fuck out of this city.

The sailboat made it as far as San Francisco before it couldn’t keep going. Abby had tried to fix it for about a week before Lev confessed he wanted to explore inland- see what the world was like outside the coast.

“Abby?” She looks up from her journal as Lev calls her from a few yards away, pointing to a road sign he’s spent the last ten minutes uncovering. “How do you say this? Trucke?”

Abby stands and walks over to him, squinting at the sign. “It’s Truck-ee. Just how it looks. Means we’re getting close to Nevada.”

There’s been…some interruptions on their trip, to say the least. Some things Abby can’t bring herself to remember, let alone talk about- but they’re past that. Abby’s hair is slowly growing out, past her shoulders now, just enough to braid. Her hair hasn’t been this short since she was a teenager. Lev’s kept his hair short, but not fully shaved- he gets nightmares when it gets too long. But then, he gets nightmares most nights.

“What’s Nevada like?”

“What is it, October? Should be nice. We should leave before spring, though. It’s a lot of desert. We’ll go around Reno if we can help it.”

“Have you been there?” Lev lets the foliage fall back over the road sign, hands resting on the straps of his backpack.

“Nope. We’re both gonna see something new.”

They’re just outside of Donner, Abby pausing their lesson on the history of the area to take a short rest. He’s fascinated by what he’s heard, even the morbid details she barely remembers. “Book on Donner Party/murder?” is written down in her shopping list, one of the dozens of things she needs to find at some point. He’d like that, she’s certain.

“We should get moving. Should just be another day or so to Nevada.”

Lev nods and starts off down the road as Abby puts her journal away, half-jogging to keep up with him. “Hang on, Lev-”

“Gotta get a move on!”

She huffs quietly and runs until she catches up to him, glancing around the woods. He knows she’s been trying to get back in shape. It’s been tricky, after everything that happened in Santa Barbara, but not as hard as she feared it would be. Muscle comes back easier once it’s been gained the first time around, even if the limited calories complicate things. Whatever anyone had to say about the Washington Liberation Front, they kept their people fed. One of the few things she misses from Seattle.

“I’m coming.”

Ellie

“No. I’m not gonna do this again. If you walk out, I’m not going to be here if you come back.”

“That’s up to you.”

There was no real point in going back. There was nothing left for Ellie, after all. The possessions she’d turned into a life meant nothing anymore- Tommy probably took most of them when Dina left. If she ever decides she wants any of it back, if she ever returns to Jackson to beg for Dina’s forgiveness, she hopes Tommy at least has the decency to feel ashamed.

Not that he matters, anymore. Not that anyone in Wyoming matters. Not that anyone matters.

When she journals about it, she wants to say she hasn’t been this disconnected since she was…younger, but she can’t settle on an age. First it was Riley. Then Marlene. Then Joel. Then Dina. As much as loneliness has haunted her entire life, the more she thinks about it, it was never so tangible. There was always something there, someone keeping her tethered to humanity.

But Santa Barbara changed things. After Abby disappeared into the fog, after she stood from the water on the last shreds of energy she had and watched the horizon, it was too late. When the stars started to appear on the water, it hit her that there was nothing for her anywhere. Jackson might welcome her, but it would never be home again.

So, east. There was no real plan to it, nothing beyond get out of Santa Barbara, so that’s what she did. Wandered until she found somewhere suitable to settle down. She’s not sure what the name of the town is, just that it’s quiet. Joel would have liked it, she thinks- he loved the mountains. They never managed to get this far west together.

It looked like an old vacation town, somewhere rich people would visit when the season was right. It’s been nearly a year since she settled here, and if there’s anything she’s learned, it’s that nobody in their right mind would be here in the winter just to visit. The snow should be coming in any day now- she’ll have to prepare for it soon.

At least there’s a nice view from the back porch of the cabin she settled on. Her cabin, now. The previous owner was quickly dispatched, his spores fully aired out within a week. Now it’s just her place. She drinks the tea in her hand, thumb rubbing over the design on the mug. It’s not the same owl mug Joel had, but it’s close enough to remind her. Remind her she cared about someone for a little while.

Her place is so quiet. There’s no voices, no humming from the kitchen, no kids giggling and playing outside. It’s nothing like Jackson. If she doesn’t speak, nothing needs to be said. It’s nice. A bird sings nearby— it’s one of Ellie’s favorite sounds. Joel told her it was called a Mourning Dove.

Pushing herself back from the balcony railing, she gives the woods one last look before she turns back to the house. There’s a laundry list of things to do- prepare firewood, move the few plants that can be moved indoors, clear out the gutters— small things to handle before the snow really sets in. The greenhouse still needs fixing up, just another thing for her to get to once summer returns.

As endless as it feels, the list she’s built up is only a few years long. Ellie’s not sure what she’s going to do once she hits the end of it.

But for now, as she sets her mug next to the sink and reaches for her jacket. She’s fresh out of distractions for the morning.

I'm so excited to start this series- hopefully you enjoyed chapter one, more on the way soon! Again, heed the warnings for each chapter, please be safe! Huge thanks to @jennaispunk for looking this over for me, the help is very much appreciated!!

Thank you to @plum98 for the forest divider! Feel free to say hi or drop your thoughts in my askbox, check out my AO3 or my about me if you're interested!

#the last of us #fanfiction #ellabs #ellie the last of us #ellie #ellie williams/abby anderson #ellie williams #ellie tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson #ellie williams x abby anderson #series #sierra nevada #my writing

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jess-the-vampire · 1 year

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I loved the finale but kinda wished hunter got to stomp belos too then sobs from happiness knowing it’s finally over or belos stuck in the between realm forever or reliving his worse nightmare as a fate worse than death

Honestly the finale felt so odd to me because we felt like were were getting setups that just were not given resolution in the finale.

And these are setups post cut, so these are things the writers had to have planned while knowing their time, which makes it more odd to me.

like at that point the focus should be to only set up things you are going to touch on and that come back into play, not add things you don't.

I personally don't think hunter needed to watch belos die, but when the show gave him new powers last episode i kinda expected them to like....come back in the finale?

like hunter's dash has no role in the finale at all, it was useful for the one scene he got regarding willow and gus and figuring out flapjack is with him and everything.....but it's one episode before the finale and it is completely forgotten after the fact outside of a couple dashes in the archive that are relatively minor.

and he ends up getting a new palsiman anyway so it just feels....off to me. I mean i was expecting him to get a new palisman but it now almost makes his dash a bit more irrelevant to even have.

kinda like how they kill glyphs, but we get glyphs at the end anyway so why the loss at all if it's not really going to stick?

honestly, let's ignore the fact the way belos died really should not have killed him for a second, Eda, Raine, and King are the characters with some of the least interactions with belos at all in the show.

Like his rule had affects on these characters and their loved ones and he did try to have eda killed, but when you think of belos' victims.....these three tend not to not be the first 3 you think of.

i kinda think the death would of been a little better if none of them jumped in and the rain just did it.

There was some minor set up for camilia or the other kids to help finish him off so i almost think it would've been more fitting if they were the ones to do it if we HAD to have that.

i dunno man, i've heard all the arguments for why belos's death works, and a lot of it seems to be rooted in the fact that "Belos is not complicated, he's evil, he doesn't need a big death and yada yada"

but it's like, it's not that belos isn't complicated, it's that the show seemed too afraid of making him complicated. I mentioned this in my last belos post but there's lots of evidence to suggest he's a more 3d character, because of how his story ties into the stories of other characters, because he symbolically represents what people who grow up in these oppressive systems can turn into. There's a lot of real potential for belos to stand out as a villian that comes from sympathetic origins but can't be forgiven or redeemed.

Which is a good lesson for kids, that people can come from bad spots but that doesn't mean you can forgive their actions.

Something that would be far more revolutionary and interesting and tie into the themes of this show much better.....then implying his depth, not committing to it and making him generic, and everyone praising this as if generic big bads who get killed aren't extremely common in most shows.

Su was a rare exception of redeeming a big bad, not the norm, and everyone seems to be under the weird vast impression it's the other way around. Unless you're a lacky, you die as a villain in pretty much every show.

But instead that gets replaced with "Well he did it cause he's inherently a bad person", even tho the show directly told us the audience that he was in indoctrinated child when it came to witch hunting, that this wasn't something he got into because he wanted to but because he NEEDED to survive in the town.

The show has plenty of set up and evidence that he does have something deeper to him but backed out of it for one reason or another.

And remember here, they were cut at ER, so they added this whole caleb backstory AFTER the cut, so even if were were to say they wanted belos to be deeper and changed their mind.....they added all the bits that implied depth AFTER the cut.

like frankly, in retrospect, if you want belos to just be an ozai metaphor esq character and not have any depth to his villainy at all, caleb should of been entirely cut.

Do something different with hunter, because having this half finished thing with caleb that is not relevant to belos's end at all feels like baiting the audience with complexity they never get.

You could of easily just reduced philip's backstory as just being this witch hunter who went missing years ago and that would be more fitting of making belos one note as they want him to be during the finale.

having all this drama with his brother leaving him for a witch and philip acting out in response feels strange to even implement if it's not even going to be touched on that much.

the show draws so much attention to it too, which makes it extra odd.

'They wanted to tell a story in the bg for the audience to figure out", ok, so that implied they want us to care about belos's origin....right??? So why not pay that off and reward those you got invested?

Having a little story to figure out is neat but not when its the basis for the plot and not when it's existence is gonna be boiled down to "Well none of this is relevant to why he became evil. He was just like that".

like having his backstory told like this could of been great, but the show ends saying belos is not complex and that none of this matters to why he's evil despite caleb clearly being important in why belos hates witches to begin with.

i might be less bothered if i knew the crew wanted to showcase the brother's story someday but they don't even seem to be high on the list of toh spinoff ideas.

it all feels like teasing a really compelling story that tied into the themes and then dropping it last minute. And now people are rewarding that because apparently now making villains just evil is revolutionary despite the fact this has been done to hell and back since the dawn of time.

Belos went from potentially being one of the most standout modern day antagonists, to being just like everyone else, and i'm not sure why everyone thinks that's supposed to be a good thing when we had the potential to look back at toh and reward them for diving into what can make people into a belos and the cautionary tale behind it.

and now instead of being memorable in that category for doing something interesting, he's just gonna be looped in with every other generic modern day big bad who represents this specific kind of evil.

If belos is not going to actually be allowed to be complex, don't bait the audience into thinking he is.

#the owl house #toh #emperor belos #philip wittebane #toh criticism

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wildestflowrs · 2 years

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DOMESTIC/FUTURE RONANCE HEADCANONS <33

They’ve had their fair share of apartments; they first moved in together when they went to Emerson, then travelled around Europe, Asia and South America for a little before settling on the outskirts of Indianapolis when Nancy lands a secure job as a reporter (she gets to travel with work from time to time, which she loves)

When they’ve settled Robin becomes a middle-school teacher (she teaches French, Spanish, extra curricular mixed languages lessons and a few music lessons on the side - also helps to run band)

Their apartment in Indianapolis is the first place they actually own together, rather than renting a place or staying at a hostel, so they go crazy painting and decorating with lots of colour

Even though she prefers to sleep in, Robin loves to get up and make Nancy breakfast (sometimes she even brings it to her bed on a tray with a little flower)

They have a small balcony where they grow as many plants as they physically can, plus they have plenty of window box planters. Robin names all of their ‘plant babies’

They know each other’s coffee and tea recipes by heart; Robin likes her chai tea with a little milk and a spoonful of sugar and Nancy likes her coffee with cream and no sugar

Robin runs warm while Nancy runs cold; Nancy snatches us most of the blanket in bed while Robin cuddles up to her or splays like a starfish, letting Nancy rest her head on her chest

Steve bought them a ‘kiss the cook’ apron when they moved in and they use it as an excuse to steal kisses while they cook together

They have a spare room and couch bed for when the kids or friends want to stay over

Their next-door neighbour is a little old lady who bakes stuff for them

Robin gives free music lessons to kids in the apartment block

Nancy still keeps guns / weapons hidden around the house - she even has a handgun stashed under a floorboard in the bathroom

Nancy leaves early for work on weekdays, so Robin doesn’t tend to see her before work; Nancy leaves her notes on her empty pillow like ‘have a lovely day my darling, I love you always - N <3’

Robin’s students love Nancy; Robin always gushes about her partner when prompted by the kids, and even if in the beginning it’s a way for the kids to distract their teacher from giving them work, they begin to love hearing about who they assume is Ms. Buckley’s husband

Robin forgets her lunch one day and Nancy comes into her class and drops it off and gives Robin a kiss goodbye - the kids are shocked but they’re accepting <3

Nancy often falls asleep poring over her work at her desk, and always seems to wake up with a blanket thrown over her and a warm mug of tea or coffee waiting for her

If one of them has a particularly bad nightmare they’ll cozy up on the couch and watch a movie and listen to music

When they moved in, the first thing they got out was a record player that they keep in the kitchen; even when all of their stuff was in boxes, Robin dug out a record and danced with Nancy in the kitchen of their new home. They dance together in the kitchen at least once a week

There’s books strewn about everywhere in their apartment, over flowing bookshelves and scattered on tables, with notes sticking out of them and annotations scribbled on the pages

Robin and Nancy love lazy days in bed every once in a while, cuddling or reading or talking or just existing with each other

#ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #they’re so special to me #ronance <3 #stranger things #stranger things 4 #ronance headcanon #ronance headcanons #wildestflowrs does headcanoning #fruity four

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mcflymemes · 1 year

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TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPTS * assorted lines from her albums

meet me at midnight.

i'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you.

i snuck in through the garden gate.

they say looks can kill, and i might try.

tell me to run.

sometimes i wonder which one will be your last lie.

i play it cool with the best of them.

love's a game. wanna play?

maybe we got lost in translation.

no one's celebrating.

don't say i didn't warn you.

we're dancing all night.

i didn't choose this town.

i should just tell you to leave.

you can try to change my mind.

we were both young when i first saw you.

let's get out of this town.

i might be okay, but i'm not fine at all.

i'd live and die for moments that we stole.

what would he do if he found us out?

all this shit is new to me.

i could show you incredible things.

i waited ages to see you there.

i miss you.

i should not be left to my own devices.

if i bleed, you'll be the last to know.

please don't go.

get it off your chest.

you look like my next mistake.

you told your family for a reason.

maybe i asked for too much.

can i go where you go?

i know it's long gone.

i think it's time to teach some lessons.

life will lose all meaning.

you're on your own, kid.

what you heard is true.

take me somewhere we can be alone.

everybody wants you.

boys only want love if it's torture.

nice to meet you. where you been?

one day i'll watch as you're leaving.

nothing lasts forever.

you did some bad things, but i'm the worst of them.

i don't remember.

i called a taxi to take me there.

he's gonna burn this house to the ground.

i just sit here and wait.

i can read you like a magazine.

i think i've been too good of a girl.

you might have to wait in line.

close your eyes.

the blame is on me.

save all your dirtiest jokes for me.

get it off my desk.

you started it.

the jokes weren't funny.

i think i've been a little too kind.

you're not sure which is worse.

say you'll remember me.

i'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream.

i'd like to be my old self again.

we're dead if they knew.

you've got no reason to be afraid.

by the way, i'm going out tonight.

i can picture it after all these days.

we never go out of style.

i heard you moved on.

we're young, and we're reckless.

i know you heard about me.

you were everything to me.

i've been dressing for revenge.

can we always be this close forever and ever?

i cried like a baby coming home from the bar.

no one has to know what we do.

what a shame she's fucked in the head.

my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand.

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more.

i don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you.

this is our place. we make the call.

this love is difficult, but it's real.

it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero.

something about it felt like home somehow.

what must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

how's one to know?

i polish up real nice.

you can tell me when it's over.

do you have a man?

the worst is yet to come.

will you please stand?

don't be afraid. we'll make it out of this mess.

i dropped your hand while dancing.

this dorm was once a madhouse.

hey, let's be friends.

don't get sad. get even.

you're talking shit for the hell of it.

you'll never have to be alone.

you love the game.

it's coming back around.

i get drunk on jealousy.

where do you think she got it from?

your opal eyes are all i wish to see.

i remember it all too well.

you wouldn't know what i mean.

don't put me in the basement.

i can make the bad guys good for a weekend.

you'll come back each time you leave.

i love you and that's all i really know.

i don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch.

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narrans · 1 month

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My Borrowed Son | 15 | To My Friends...

Chapter Fifteen | To My Friends…

It was a bit of a restless night for Amanda. She knew it would be a challenge but that it was good for both of them at the same time. Not having Parker sleeping within arm’s length was strange. The maternal part of her wanted to make sure he was okay.

What if he needed something?

What if he had a nightmare?

What if he went to get off of the table and slipped on the ladder or rope? Parker was prone to climbing things after all.

Fretting and worrying took its toll on Amanda and, by morning, she found herself blankly staring at her reflection for several unblinking minutes as the water washed away her toothpaste. There were faint dak rings under her eyes, but perhaps that had to do with the other matter of Parker getting older.

He was growing into a fine young man. He was gaining interests and wanting to explore more things. Just the other day, her son asked her about sports as he practiced his swimming in the bathtub and possibly joining this thing called a Dungeons and Dragons campaign that one of his friends, Billie, was hosting.

Amanda remembered D&D when she was growing up, and it didn’t seem all that interesting if she was being honest.

But Parker was his own person. He needed to be able to express himself and be free to explore the things he wanted to but within reason.

The fear in the back of her mind crept up once again. The omnipresent force that constantly loomed over the disguise that was Parker’s “condition” lurked in the shadows and threatened to rear its ugly head every time Amanda wanted to give Parker the freedom he earned.

There was a portion of Amanda that scolded herself for not telling Parker sooner about his so-called “condition” and how he actually came into her life. The other part, the dominant one, hoped she would never have to tell him. To her, it didn’t matter where he came from. He was her son, and she reasoned that not having answers to his existence was worse than providing one lie.

Regardless of her feelings, Amanda knew that she needed to start letting Parker make some of his own decisions when it came to his interests. If it was dangerous, she would intervein. Otherwise, she needed to trust in Parker and reinforce their lessons when needed.

“Hey mom! Good morning!” Amanda turned and glanced down by her feet to see Parker by the bathroom door that she had left open. “Are you finished?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry. Good morning Parker,” greeted Amanda as she quickly rinsed out her toothbrush and stepped past Parker into the hall. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I did. You?” grinned Parker.

“I slept well enough,” his mom replied. “It’s Saturday. Do you want cinnamon rolls or eggs?” The look in his eyes said it all – cinnamon rolls. With a quick nod, Amanda headed off toward the kitchen was Parker started his morning routine.

Parker heaved his way up the line he fixed on the side of the sink, despite his mom insisting he use the ladders for everything, and washed his face and brushed his teeth. The newly minted teen stared at his reflection in the mirror and, for the first time in a while, felt like he was a little different.

He knew his hair probably needed a trim, but there was something about his physical body that felt different. There was something about his features that felt like they were changing. His mom had explained that his body would be going through changes as he got older, but today was the first day he actually felt a little different.

Parker decided to table that for another time as he began working on a mental spiel for his mom instead about why he should be able to get a Tumblr account. He went over the talking points in his head.

Selina has an account for her art to better her portfolio and gain a following.

I want to publish some of my writing because I like it and I’m good at it.

I’ll be responsible.

It’ll be another way to make friends.

I know we’ve talked about safety on the internet before, and I promise I’ll be safe.

The more Parker thought, the more he didn’t feel confident in his argument. The teen still wanted to try though. The worst thing that his mom could say was “no,” right?

He shimmied down the line and hurried to the kitchen before he could lose his nerve.

Parker crossed the wooden floor, taking in the heigh of the hallway and the vastness of the living room before walking into the kitchen. After spending the evening in a place designed specifically for someone of his size, looking up toward the ceiling was vertigo inducing. That weird part of him felt, for whatever reason, apprehensive as he approached his mom.

It happened from time to time, but that sensation was something he couldn’t identify.

The sweet smell of baking cinnamon bread wafted through the air and dismissed his concerns as his mom knelt instinctually and helped him up onto the counter.

“So, I was thinking that we should start working on the hot water in your space first so if there are any leaks and spills we can clean it up, dry it off, and not get any decorations and electricity wet. I know we set up the basics yesterday, but I just want to make sure it’s all good before getting everything else in place. What do you think?” asked his mom. A healthy portion of iced cinnamon roll was dished out onto his plate and handed to him.

“Sounds good to me,” replied Parker. “And thanks for making breakfast.” He inhaled the sweet scent and dared to lick a large portion directly off of the top when his mom wasn’t looking.

“You’re welcome sweetie,” Amanda said in response. “Then, if you’re feeling up to it, we hook up the chords and lights so you can be ready to show your friends your new room on your webcam by Monday for class.”

“That… sounds great,” said Parker, his mind thrumming with a slight, growing anxiety as his question continued to prickle the tip of his tongue. Parker winced as he saw his mom looking at him. He didn’t know how she did it, but anytime he had something on his mind, she knew.

“Or… we can do something different,” suggested Amanda. Parker looked up and saw his mom’s intuitive eyes looking at him quizzically.

“No! No, I want to do all of that. It’s going to be a great project,” said Parker hurriedly, his heartrate spiking momentarily. “It’s just… I wanted to ask you for something. Like… a delayed birthday gift?”

The concern in his mom’s brow dissipated into curiosity. She nodded and laid her hand down onto the counter, a signal to Parker that they were going to go sit at the table instead of eating on the kitchen counter. He stepped onto her hand, noting the small blister on her thumb from where she probably accidentally burned it while making breakfast, and let her get settled down at the table before continuing.

“Um… okay… hear me out,” said Parker as the argument he had been practicing in the bathroom and all this morning vaporized immediately.

“Okay,” said his mom with a cautiously amused smile on her face. Parker cleared his throat a few times before it clicked again in his head.

“Um… right. So, I was wondering if I could start my own Tumblr page,” said Parker. His mom’s brow furrowed in confusion, so the teen decided to elaborate. “I was talking with Selina and the others during the party yesterday and Selina said that she had one and was using it to post her art and stuff like that. She said I should put my writing up on there and… I… kind of want to.”

Parker knew this was a big ask. Generally speaking, his mom tried to emphasize that time should be spend off of the computer and not on it. His access to the internet was usually kept under mild monitorization simply because the internet had a lot of things that he wasn’t ready for.

As his mom would say, “The internet is a powerful tool that can be used for good and bad. There are some… different… people on the internet and sometimes the things they put out there are cruel or not for young eyes.”

Parker had always adhered to that and only used his internet searches for academic purposes.

This, he felt, was a good resource for him to utilize.

Amanda, on the other hand, felt herself squirm and pale, and she prayed Parker hadn’t noticed. That website was the same one way back when that she had found a lot of writing about “little people.” A lot of it seemed like fiction and fantasy if not for the fact that her son fit in with the exact categorization of these small beings who lived in walls.

Amanda thought about the conversation she had with herself just this morning about letting Parker have a little more freedom and taking his feelings into consideration. He was expressing interest in publishing and writing. Parker wanted to make more virtual friends because, for better or worse, she had restricted his contact with the outside world.

She had to ask herself the ultimate question.

Was this something that was too dangerous?

Was this something that would harm her son?

Would this thing provide too much information for his mind to handle?

Or, on the other hand, would this prompt the conversation they might need to have about how he came into her life?

Amanda didn’t trust the world with her son, but she trusted him. If he was ready to ask those questions and seek out those answers, she needed to let him to that.

Who knew? Maybe he wouldn’t encounter anything or ask those questions. Maybe this was a change for Amanda to start formulating how to best talk to Parker about why he was the way he was.

Amanda swallowed dryly and looked into Parker’s thoughtful, light brown eyes. He was obviously eagerly awaiting her reply.

“Well, Parker, I think… that you’ve shown a lot of responsibility when using the internet. Obviously, I would like to be able to see the website and look into all of the options, but… I think we could come to some kind of compromise,” decided Amanda.

Parker, absolutely filled with elation, leapt up and cheered.

“Yes! Thank you momma!” he said jubilantly. He threw himself onto her hand and hugged her with all of his might. It reminded Amanda of the little boy he still was.

Once again, she sent a silent prayer that she was doing the right thing.

She suspected she would need to have a conversation with Parker, but not now. Not right after his birthday.

“We’ll get everything set up after we set up your space, deal?”

“Deal!”

~~~^*^*^~~~

The next eight hours were a test of sheer willpower.

The hot water was a trick and a half to get set up and that went double for the electricity, specifically the switches that turned the lights on and off.

The easiest part was, in all reality, decorating. Parker chose easily cleanable floor panels and mostly space themed wallpapers. He did choose to have his bedroom in a Hobbit style theme with greens, browns, and little grass patches which Amanda dug up for him. He also picked out a few gardening beds for him to grow stuff off of his balcony and plenty of wires and charging places for his devices.

His area right off of his bedroom on the second floor was his classroom and study area, hooking up the camera and tablet for class. The first floor was the gaming and hangout area. Finally, the attic was Parker’s not-so-secret tinkering area when he wanted to create and design stuff.

All in all, things were coming together very well and, by the end of the night, Parker was exhausted; but not exhausted enough to deter him from creating his account.

With his mom’s blessing, he quickly filled in his email, birthday, and even uploaded a quick picture he took of himself.

The final thing to determine was the name of his blog, which Parker didn’t realize he needed to do.

What did he want to call his blog? His name was already taken, and he wanted to make sure it sounded genuine and professional if other people were going to see it. He didn’t want to make it something naughty and have his mom find out and revoke this privilege.

He stared at the blinking vertical line on the screen as his hands hovered over the virtual keypads.

Then, it hit him.

The name was already on the place his mom gifted to him added with a little touch into his mind.

Parker’s Place: Welcome to My Little Life

It was suiting, and Parker felt like it represented him in a way that didn’t talk too much about his condition. He was more than some fancy Latin name after all.

The screen popped up and, for a moment, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Should he make an introductory post? One of his dreams? Did he even have to use that button at the bottom called “tags?”

He decided his first course of action was to send the Tumblr link to Selina, which he did, before electing to make a little introductory post. It was polite after all.

Nerves and excitement starting to make him feel jittery, Parker began typing.

“To my friends... Hey there! My name is Parker and I'm a little new here. I like writing, poetry, tinkering, and I stream games and stuff from time to time. I'm also a bit of a space nerd and I usually have a favorite book every month, but my all time favorite is probably The Hobbit.

“I hope you all like my stuff. I'm just putting it out there to get over my stage fright (fingers crossed).

“Anyway, nice to meet you through the screen. If you have any story suggestions I should read here or cool art I should check out, just let me know!

“Look forward to hearing from all of you out there and, hey, welcome to my little life!

So long!

Parker”

After staring at the post for nearly twenty minutes, Parker decided to pull the trigger. Taking a breath, he pressed the “Post Now” button and hoped for the best.

He didn’t have time to watch and see if anyone noticed or cared about his post. Dinner was ready and it was his turn to pick the movie.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

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Beginning

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shesjustanothergeek · 11 months

Text

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Nineteen

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I felt this story severely lacks dragon content. I want to make up for that. I hope you enjoy the little spice I've sprinkled in there toward the end. ;) Thank you so much for your support!!

Chapter Warnings: Implied cannibalism, dubcon.

Translation Guide: Zaldrītsos ipradagon: little dragon eater. Pālēs: turn. Kelītīs: halt. Lykirī: calm. Dohaerās: serve. (I tried my best to use proper grammar. Please don't call the High Valryian police.)

"Father, don't blame us for trying to live, for trying to love, for wanting more? Why did you dress our pleasure up as greed? While you're limiting our love, taking sunlight from the seed? Why did you give us hearts we don't understand, like an apple in our hand that you'll never let us have?" - AURORA, The Devil is Human.

It was midday before you decided to venture from your cotton sheets, letting you and the servants rest as much as possible before ringing the bell that signaled them to your room. Your ladies did not commence the morning ritual you had come to despise. They, too, must have also participated in a celebration last night and were nursing the same headache as you.

You stretched and yawned as you basked in the yellow afternoon sun that peeked through the emerald curtains, relaxing your achy muscles. The balcony appeared relatively comfortable in the daylight, and you decided to venture out, sitting on a cushioned bench. A cold breeze passed through King's Landing, picking up the withered plants across the ground and billowing your night dress around your bare ankles.

Winter was only weeks away. The once viridian foliage was now barren, revealing the wooden bones of each plant. The grass was a burnt orange from the lack of nutrients the soil provided, and no more earthy-smelling flowers were sprouting within the cracks of the flagstones. Death and decay surrounded you, bringing comfort despite how desolate everything appeared.

You hoped that snow would fall in the coming months. It would be the closest thing to home again.

You could reminisce fondly about your first wintertide at Dragonstone, the thick flurry of snowflakes blanketing the sandy beaches and rocks that covered the island, but never upon the castle itself. You remembered staring out of one of the many black stone towers and observing the steam rising from a carved basilisk as the slush melted. It was as if the haunting creature had the heat of a living being. It disturbed you immensely, plaguing you with endless nightmares alone in your apartments.

For the small folk, winter in King's Landing was always strife. Sickness and starvation were rampant throughout Flea Bottom that time of year, inflicting everyone no matter how plentiful the harvest was. It agonized you to no end each season you spent at Dragonstone, your stomach in knots if Madam or the other residents had enough to eat and if they managed to survive whatever illness spread.

The wintertime of your sixth year was the most gruesome. The growing season was met with drought, and when it came time to harvest, the merchant carts were bare. Ma tried to conceal the difficulty that year brought by distracting you with oral lessons in history and math, but no matter how much a parent attempted to protect their child, it was never enough.

You remembered the taste of the stale loaf of bread the whores shared throughout the week, the texture of jerky meat, and the ache it gave your jaw when chewing.

The atrocities you witnessed your fellow neighbors commit left you feeling hollow, memories of people burying the emaciated bodies of their kin only to dig them up. You were uncertain why they would do such a thing at the time. It was a sin against the Seven to desecrate the bodies of the deceased, and you had questioned Ma why they would do it. She hadn't given you an answer then, but you didn't need one. You already knew. Even in your youth, you could comprehend the atrocities of man.

Though you were a Targaryen, the hot blood of the dragon coursing through your veins, you preferred the colder weather.

Perhaps the reason was because of the Northern blood within you. It was rumored that your mother came from the area, but exactly where you were unconfident. The only other person who could attest to your mother's lineage besides herself was dead, swept from this mortal realm by the Hand and the Stranger, their head on a spike left to rot until forgotten. But you would remember. You would never forget nor forgive.

You thought back to the feast and how scores of meals were brought out and left over by the end. The scraps alone were enough to feed the entirety of the slums and still have more than enough to satiate all the guests. You hadn't felt remorseful at the time as you indulged yourself in a slice of ham, but in the light of day, the unawareness of your actions caused a profound contempt to grow. Gazing over the hundreds of cottages in various architectural states made you realize how disconnected you became from your roots.

Living a life of luxury made you into what you despised as a child—an out-of-touch, uppity, supercilious highborn.

You and the court members had more in common than you admitted, which was disgusting in and of itself. A sickening feeling of self-hatred permeated in your gut, causing you to retreat into the comfort of your space.

You needed to change. You needed to use your position of power to help the people of King's Landing.

You hadn't realized you were pacing until your ladies entered your room, a silver tray of tea and fruits in Dyana's hands. Fiora gave a charming grin in greeting as Jeyne went straight to your wardrobe, a storm of crimson skirts.

"Good morn Princess," the littlest maid said, placing your food on a table.

You smiled in admission, but it did not reach your eyes, putting your thumb between your teeth and pulling a piece of dead skin. Fiora and Dyana changed your sheets, replacing the breathable cotton with thicker wool as you broke your fast. The red cherries stained the tips of your fingers, mixing with the blood from your torn cuticles, the juice burning the open skin. You didn't wince at the pain, continuing to eat as your mind conjured up different ideas for the future.

From this moment on, you promised yourself never to stop. Never douse the flames of your drive to do what needs to be done. You would burn any lord, lady, prince, king, or queen who stood in your way.

***

The day continued without a hitch. Most of the guests from last night were still asleep or had already left for their homes while you were resting.

It was pleasant to walk the halls without having to create a polite conversation with people who would turn in the same breath and spread vicious rumors of your brother's parentage and spit vile insults that always referenced your birth. As twisted as it was, you hoped that one day you would hear something more interesting than the word "bastard." But it might be too much to ask the people at court to use their minds for something besides counting how many coins they reaped from their land.

Truthfully, you didn't have much to do. There were no Council meetings after events like these; everyone was still recovering from the night of debauchery, even the men who helped run the kingdom. It left you with nothing to do except plot and scheme and live within the torture of your mind.

You made your servants dress you in your favorite winter riding clothes to mark the season's coming. A magnificent statement piece that Rhaenyra commissioned for you as a Winter Solstice present.

The short, long-sleeved dress bathed your frame in flowing blood-red velvet trimmed with black braiding and lace with a high collar secured at the neckline to protect you from freezing temperatures. A dramatic steel pin of a three-headed dragon kept the heavy material together on your shoulders. A collection of practical and fashionable buttons were sewn onto the fabric to cover your torso, stopping at your hips to give you a range of motion and the allusion of a full gown to hide the trousers underneath.

You decided to take advantage of the rare break to see your dragon. You felt terrible for neglecting Cannibal the past week, leaving him to explore the skies of King's Landing in his solitude. He was accustomed to a life of isolation. Most of his fellow species were terrified of him and left the black dragon alone for a good reason.

In the beginning, Cannibal did not take well to being kept in the part of Dragonmont where the other creatures were, thrashing in the Keepers' hold like an unbroken stallion and breaking the chains that bound him multiple times.

Daemon had commanded you to beat submission into Cannibal more than once, giving you a long whip to have him obey your commands. You were hesitant and felt your heart shatter as the leather cracked his scales, but after much arguing, your father convinced you that it was the only way. Beasts like the Cannibal did not listen to any other language.

You had snuck out of the castle the evening it happened, leading the ferocious animal out of the caves and letting him fly to his home on the eastern side. There was a silent understanding between rider and dragon that night as you stared into his menacing green eyes.

Cannibal felt your sorrow for hurting him, realizing that you were just as afraid in your ways, lashing out whenever threatened and angry at the world for things you could not control. That night he lowered himself willingly to let you ride, taking you over the islands of Driftmark, Sharp Point, and Claw Isle. He did not speed through the midnight skies but soared high and low, letting his pointed wings slice the salty waters below and glide over the clouds until all you saw were stars and the waxing moon.

Since then, you and the Cannibal had a true bond of rider and dragon. Not one owning the other, but equals on land and the sky.

Unsurprisingly, you could not find your dragon within the Pit as you explored and asked the Keepers if he had appeared. While Cannibal had stopped briefly, attempting to enter for a snack but wisely deciding against it, no one had seen him.

You continued journeying undeterred, following your instincts as you traveled along the outer ring of walls in the Red Keep, enjoying the brisk air on your cheeks. You found a small exit that went out to private beach access. To those outside these red rock walls, it was only accessible by boat. You were optimistic he would be there, curled under one of the many rocky cliffs that reminded you both of home.

Sure enough, you saw the droppings that could only belong to a beast of his size. There were tracks on the shore, indents, and drag marks throughout the pale sand. Piles of bones leading up to where you spotted him, eyes shut and scales so dark that it looked like there was a hole in this realm. You noticed his nostrils twitch as you drew closer, indicating that he caught the scent of what you carried and was awake.

"Zaldrītsos ipradagon," you called in a sing-song voice, feigning to creep behind him as you scratched his tail with your fingers.

Cannibal pretended to nap, acting as if you couldn't see how his eyelids moved.

"Zaldrītsos ipradagon," you repeated, walking closer to his horned head. "I know you are sore that I have neglected you these past days, but I've brought something that I think you'll like..." you trailed off, exaggerating the last word.

Finally, he opened his eyes, the vivid yellow-green of his irises indicating that this massive void was an animal. You revealed the dragon egg that you stole from Dreamfyre's clutch.

"You know, I barely made it out alive," you taunted, raising the textured brown oval as Cannibal unhinged his jaws.

Before he could take a bite, you leaped away, hiding his present behind your back as he let out a warning growl. You rolled your eyes, the cruelness of your actions not lost on you.

"Oh, please. If you eat me, who else would risk their lives to steal another dragon's child for you?" you interrogated as if he could talk. "Exactly. No one. You would be all alone again, hoping someone like me would come along so you don't have to work for food again. I think you have become rather lazy over the years. Mayhaps I should stop bringing you food and make you fend for yourself, hmm?"

You felt the earth tremble beneath your feet as Cannibal stood, shaking the stray sand that landed on his body as he bared his elongated teeth.

Numerous people said that dragons couldn't comprehend the common tongue and that it was pointless to communicate with them, but it wasn't about what language you spoke, but how you felt as you said it. All animals could sense the emotions of other beings; you didn't have to bark to have a dog listen to you. You didn't have to squeal so that pigs knew when their slop was coming; they could sense it-- sense you.

You had grown a habit of testing the limits of Cannibal's basic instincts, wondering in the back of your mind if today might be the day he loses himself to his past and becomes the monster the small folk of Dragonstone believed him to be.

But the conviction you held within your bond would snuff that out quicker than he could fry a hatchling. It didn't make it any less frightening, though, as a roar blew loose the hair from your pined style, saliva splattering on your forehead.

"Fine! Here!" you relented, throwing the egg directly into his opening mouth as he chewed with a stomach-turning crunch.

He still wore the custom leather saddle between two large spikes on his lower neck. It was always a hassle for the Keepers to take off, and you needed more time to remove it when you first arrived at King's Landing. Cannibal became accustomed to it and hardly noticed the thirty-stone piece of equipment as he continued his hermit lifestyle.

"Let us fly today," you spoke softly, with no hint of your jesting tone from earlier. I shall see if I can wrangle you something live when we finish. Some pork would settle nicely in your gut, don't you think?"

You stood with a giddy smile as Cannibal lowered himself so you could clutch hold of the rope ladder along his side, adjusting until you were satisfied in your seat. You loved the aching stretch the saddle gave between your legs, your dragon pushing from the sand into the skies. That was also a relaxing feeling for him as he flapped his enormous midnight wings.

Cannibal took you over the entire townlet, soaring above the small folk as they halted and stared. Seeing as three claimed dragons were already housed within Rhaenys's hill, one being the largest in history, it shouldn't have been such a marvel to them. Though you took the admiration in stride, commanding your dragon with a "dracarys" as a burst of orange flames spewed from his massive jaws into the blue sky. You could hear the awe within their murmurs, smiling down at them as you shared your gift.

Your little dragon eater was more than happy to put on a show, nose-diving into a crowd of onlookers as they watched with horror and shrieks, sure that the beast was going to kill them before he abruptly swooped up, leaving them unharmed and knocking them over from the sheer force.

It was freeing to be on Dragonback. Especially when your dragon was more feared than even the war-hardened Vhagar, flown by the notoriously haughty One-Eyed Prince. To feel the wind whipping your hair, biting your cheeks, the sun warming you with its intense glow. You could feel the moisture from the clouds collecting on your thick black braids, creating tiny water droplets that glimmered like diamonds.

You flew over Blackwater Bay, the sea mist collecting on your eyelashes, the salty taste bursting on your tongue as you licked your lips. There were merchant ships larger than Balerion's skeleton residing at the many docks, the crew members looking like tiny grains of rice as they loaded shipments and hoisted sails.

As a child stuck to the sandstone streets of Flea Bottom, you never imagined yourself as someone who would one day be claiming the skies. The girl who once looked above at the stars as she sat on Lyra's lap was now one with them; what you wouldn't give for her to see you now.

Leaning your body and shouting the command, "pālēs!" Cannibal took you over the Blackwater Rush. Signs of life grew scarce and left only a few small villages along the river, their brick and mortar chimneys emitting the smell of woodsmoke as you soared over them. You were sure that those who saw the speeding dragon were met with fright. The almost demonic-looking blackness absorbed all light briefly before they were again met with the comforting rays.

The Red Keep came into view through the horizon as you circled back, the tallest structure in King's Landing sitting atop Aegon's Hill. Cannibal descended over the high pale redstone buildings, his wings barely a meter away from the tiled roof of the Tower of the Hand. With a smirk, you hoped that Otto was in there, crouching behind the stacks of parchment on his desk.

Suddenly, a roar sounded in the air. Your head swiveled around your body, searching for the noise, but you couldn't find it. You assumed the sun blinded your vision, causing your brown orbs to burn with water. You dug your palms into your sockets, rubbing the sting away as you felt Cannibal ascend.

The screech boomed again, followed by the sound of the wings of a dragon. You turned, prepared for the bright golden glow of the beast's scales. Aegon sat snuggly on his saddle, whipping the reigns so Sunfyre would go faster. You groaned in annoyance at the drunkard prince, shaking your head and commanding Cannibal to lose them before you decided to land.

"Put that wastrel of a man in his place, Cannibal," you snarked. "I promise to allow you as many Dragonkeepers that can fit into your mouth if you do." You swore he nodded in response, beating his ebony wings harder against the wind.

The frigid air pricked your eyes like needles, ripping out more strands of hair as they scratched against the sides of your face. You were glad you chose a warmer riding outfit, for the sun's heat was overpowered by the biting cold that dried your skin.

Cannibal showcased his skills, creating a distance between you and Aegon faster than his dragon could blink. You led them back to the original path you took. The fabric awnings that covered merchant stands ripped from where they were nailed as you flew by, carts carrying fruits and vegetables toppling over as your two dragons raced above. Turning sharply above the slums of houses you once frequented, you went to the port of Blackwater Bay, even more, populated than the inner mouth.

Ships of all sizes resided there, not just merchants, each coming and going, creating a mess of coordinated chaos only shipmasters could understand. The sails were various colors, Houses, and some without indicating what they were. You weaved through them, Cannibal closing his wings as his momentum carried you between the small gaps.

While you expertly dodged each boat, proudly smiling at the men below, you heard a deafening thud and crack, turning to see the pink and golden body of Sunfyre ramming into the mast of an unsuspecting crew.

"Kelītīs," you ordered Cannibal, positioning him as you saw Aegon and his dragon plummet into the brackish waters.

Panic seized your heart, telling your beast to land on the stern of the nearest ship, nearly capsizing it. Without a second thought, you dove into the icy Bay, the briny and freshwater searing your lungs. You swam to the ship Aegon crashed into, moving the floating pieces of stalwart oak out of your way as you said a silent prayer. Sunfyre's head rose above the water, flailing like a drowning cat until he pulled himself onto the sea wall.

"Aegon!" you called out, hoping he would answer you.

You paddled further into the wreckage, yelling out his name again. He still didn't answer, and you feared the worst. The repercussions of the eldest Prince's death were not in your mind; you only wanted to save a drowning man whose death would be your fault.

You inhaled quickly, forcing your eyes to stay open as you dove under the murky water. You could only see a few meters before you, the thick wool of your outfit slowing your movements and making your muscles work twice as hard. Struggling to resurface, you were met with the hull of a ship, swiftly dunking yourself again to avoid being crushed. You sucked in another breath, coughing the contaminated liquid out of your lungs as you looked at Cannibal. You screamed at him to block more ships from passing, and he pushed off, breathing a line of fire to prevent them.

The hair that had come out obscured your vision as you went under again. Your prayers were answered as you spotted an opaque figure, your fingers yanking the floating fabric of the Prince's clothes. You kicked and kicked your legs, straining against everything, pulling you under as you carried Aegon's lifeless body to the surface.

Locking your arms underneath his, you positioned him on your torso, leaning back as you swam to the port wall. The mussels and barnacles dug into your thighs, bending against the stone for support as you heaved Aegon above your head.

He spread on his rear, splayed like the Seven-Pointed Star, his ankles still hanging over the ledge. You realized he must have ingested water; using the last bit of strength, you flipped him over, smacking his back to get rid of it. Aegon sputtered a cough, water, and mucus spewing out of his mouth. You rested your arms on the top of the stone wall, catching your breath as your head turned low. The ground shuddering interrupted your rest, the water around you rippling with vibrations.

Two dragons stood face to face. One of aureate and one of coal, shimmering in the iridescent glare like a prized jewel, the other an ember of carbon and darkness. A low growl rumbled inside the anthracite one's throat; legs bent to pounce and smoke rising from its nose. The golden one put up its defenses, mimicking the stance of the other.

"Lykirī," you said breathlessly, trying to pull yourself over the levy, arms shaking. Cannibal's eyes flickered over you, unwilling to leave himself and you defenseless. "Dohaerās," you demanded firmly as your dragon obeyed, flying into the air before Sunfyre could attack.

"Princess!" a voice yelled. The clink of armor rang in your ears before two hands hoisted you onto dry land, your shins scraping against the ground.

They rolled you onto your rear, looking down with great concern. "Aegon," you panted, pointing toward the groaning man. "The Prince..." Unable to articulate, you only gestured, your tired stems quivering as you attempted to explain what happened without words.

The Cargyll twins directed their attention to the crowned Prince, helping him upright as they assured he was well. You didn't discover you were shivering until the resounding vibrations of your teeth chattering echoed in your skull. Your mind focused solely on rescuing Aegon as the sopping outfit stuck to your skin, the frigid autumn climate chilling you to the bone. A dark shadow of a man blocked what little warmth you acquired from the sunlight, squinting to decipher who he was and why he was only staring.

Ser Criston Cole stood beyond your quivering form, blankly peering down from his nose. The reflection of his silver armor seared your eyes as you turned away.

You couldn't speak. You couldn't think, concentrating on not being shocked by the freezing temperature. Abruptly a cloak was thrown, and you secured it around your form greedily, curling into a ball to conserve your heat as Ser Cole went over to the small group forming around Aegon.

You needed to get warm.

Why couldn't you get warm?

You hugged the wool blanket closer to your body, helpless to get what every nerve fiber was screaming at you to receive. Exhaustion washed over you, your eyelids gradually drooping.

Aegon is safe; you convinced yourself. There is nothing to worry about now.

You ultimately let the tiredness take control, shutting your eyes as you let out a shuddering breath, your finger loosening around the blanket.

"Princess," the faint title echoed beyond earshot. It sounded too far away, and you couldn't be bothered to reply.

"Princess," you heard softly again.

You couldn't understand why someone was calling for you. Everything was all right now. You could rest comfortably.

Your name was unexpectedly screamed, and you barely managed to pry your lids apart to see the terrified countenance of Ser Arryk Cargyll. You felt yourself lifted onto your shanks as they buckled, causing a surge of adrenaline to wake you partially as you griped the constituents that held you.

"She is soaking wet," you heard Arryk communicate before looking down at your blanched sallow fingers, holding them together with his palms. "Princess, please forgive me for what I plan to do. I must remove your clothes or risk you getting frostbite."

You still couldn't answer, a soft groan jostling in your nose as you felt your legs give out again, shutting your eyes. Intrusive digits began to unbutton your attire, your arms weakly pushing them away in protest. You didn't understand what was happening. One moment you were soaring high atop your dragon, and the next being forcefully undressed. Did Aegon have you again?

"No. Stop. Please," you begged, sluggishly swatting Ser Arryk.

"My Lady, I beseech you," he pleaded. "You will die otherwise."

You persisted, wiggling feebly in Arryk's hold as he stripped you down to your braes and breast binder. Tears of shame and powerlessness flowed down your cheeks, the salty trails warming the area briefly before chilling on the wind burnt skin.

The blanket wrapped around you again, the knight aiding you to his white horse. It didn't feel like you were there, seeing your figure in the surroundings from an outside perspective. Arryk tried putting you onto the saddle by himself, struggling as he couldn't lift the entirety of your limp body.

There were conversations that you could not hear as you leaned against his steely armor, your breathing becoming more difficult each second you stood. Another set of limbs came to assist, resting you on the front of the leather saddle, the pommel digging into your backside as you rested against the rider's chest.

The rhythmic swaying indicated that you had begun moving, hopefully to someplace where you could rest. Preferably scorching with a hearth the size of a solar and a fire blazing like the flames, Cannibal exhaled as you felt yourself fall into a deep slumber.

***

In your subconscious, you felt a tickle on your cheek, swatting it away as you drifted back to unconsciousness.

It happened again, this time a pull to your hair. You opened your heavy eyes, your vision blurry with sleep as you rubbed the afflicted area, turning over with an annoyed grunt. Then again, but now a pinch of your nose as you shot up, lunging into the person that so desperately wanted to disturb your rest.

"You," you spat, moving to get off the intruder.

"Me." Aegon smirked.

"Why are you here?" you interrogated, sliding off the bed to the roaring fire.

"I wanted to see how you were fairing. You gave us quite a fright," he admitted, gleaming smirk still on his pink lips.

Staring at him, you searched your mind, the memories returning in flashes. You, gliding over the streets of King's Landing. You pursued by a serpent of shimmering pink, orange, and gold. Aegon, falling into the dangerous murky waters of Blackwater Bay. He watched the recognition on your face, walking to your place by the hearth.

"And to extend my endless gratitude for saving my life." You scoffed, turning away from Aegon as he clasped his hands behind his back. "What is that now? Twice? I owe you," he admitted, sitting in a green armchair.

You released a huff, trying to distance yourself from Aegon as you went to the pot of tea in the center of the table. Pouring yourself a cup, you were pleased it was still tepid, with the taste of cinnamon and cloves warming your tongue. A bowl of stew rested next to it, the hazy memory of being huddled at the fireplace with thick fabric weighing on your icy bones as you sipped on the broth.

"You would have a debt if you thought twice about your actions," you cursed without thinking. "Do you ever think about how they affect other people? How they affect your wife, your mother... how they affect me?" Aegon's head lowered, his choppy blonde hair draping over his face as he fiddled with his fingers. "Look at me when I am speaking!" you yelled, storming over to where he sat.

"I am not going to lecture you as the Queen does, for you are well enough to know better. I want you to listen to me, hear my words." You kneeled before him, forcing Aegon's glassy eyes to meet your raging ones. "Your drinking and whoring wounds me deeply. You say that I am to put my trust within you, but then you lead two slaves into your bed, a place that we have shared. A place where I-" You choked on your words, a thick lump suddenly forming as you looked away.

You hadn't meant for this to become emotional. Your original intent was to have him whimpering at your feet and begging you to forgive him. The appeal of your sex was the key reason, but you were shaken. Watching in horror as Aegon fell into the Bay had scared you, truly and sincerely. It would've been partially on your hands, and his death, you realized, was not something you could stomach.

"We are allowed to have fun and forget our duty at times. I understand that our life is not what we would have chosen if given the choice, but we must take into account others. We do not have the freedom to forget people as others do with us. If we do then we become the ones who have hurt us, loosing our true selves."

Before you could continue, Aegon released a loud sob, slumping in the chair with his head in his palms. The sound was like an arrow to the heart, pricking your eyes with the intensity of it.

"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. I have tried to be everything they wanted of me. To be the son my father dreamed of, to be a boy my mother could love," he cried, his shoulders shaking. "Why don't they love me? Why does no one love me? Am I truly such a monster?"

You inhaled a ragged breath, pursing your lips as you held back your tears. You could not bring yourself to give Aegon the assurance he needed. He was not a good man by any means. He participated in child fighting pits, gambled to the point of gluttony, and bedded women who were willing and those who were coerced. By certain standards, he was a monster, but not to you. You could see behind the heinous actions he committed was a boy who never learned what was right and wrong. A boy who was neglected and abused since he was born for reasons he could never control, tormented by the realization that he would never receive happiness.

Aegon was a drunkard, a slut, a craven, a wastrel, and a deadbeat, but he was no monster. You knew that to be true even when blinded by loathing, rage, and grief.

Your chin began to quiver, and your pulse began to race as you extended a hand, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. Aegon snapped his head up, his glimmery amethyst eyes glistening in an ocean of tears as you rested his palm against your cheek.

"You are broken, as am I, but we are no monsters." You placed a chaste kiss against his wrinkled skin, showing him your sincerity.

Aegon's lips trembled in his pout, so deeply moved by your words that he collapsed into you. You returned comfort, snaking your arms around him and smoothing his frizzy hair as he cried into the crook of your neck, wetting the fabric of your nightgown with his tears.

You stayed together like that until his sobs turned into hiccups, squeezing you tightly against him as he steadied his breathing. Even then, you did not let go, ridding him of his shoes and outer tunic as you led him to your bed. You were both drained, on a constant emotional overdrive that sucked the energy straight from your souls.

Settling onto the top sheet of your feather tick mattress, you held your arm to Aegon, signaling he could lay beside you. He crawled in like a child to a parent with a nightmare, seeking the comfort of their protective embrace. You let him lean his head on your chest, your back propped up against the collection of pillows at the headboard.

His index traced the curve of your knee, sending tingles up your leg and into your chest. It was intimate, an action one would make to their lover, but it didn't startle you. And the fact that it didn't give you that nauseating feeling in your stomach did not frighten you either. You allowed his digits to slide further up your leg, to your navel, sternum, and back down again. It caused gooseflesh to cover your arms, your nipples hardening with the rush.

Aegon's back settled on your plush thighs, your heart racing out of your chest as he stared with his cracked, shimmering amethyst eyes. He looked like a boy, younger than your brothers, and you knew exactly what broken boys like him needed.

Wordlessly you undid the front strings of your nightgown, letting gravity slide it down your prickled arms and revealing your breasts for him. A sudden heat rushed through your stomach and between your shanks as you saw his pupils dilate, nearly swallowing his irises. You inhaled deeply to settle yourself, endeavoring not to show your uncertainty about being in such a vulnerable situation.

"May I," Aegon paused, choking on his words and wetting his lips. "Can I touch them? Please?"

Your pulse stalled at the inadvertent confession of his nervousness, an almost maternal feeling coming over you as you brushed his curly locks behind his ear. "Yes, you may, dear prince," you mumbled.

The sensation of his fingers gently kneading one breast caused your toes to curl, sparks of satisfaction igniting in your core. You were not proud of letting him do this to you, surrendering one of your most sacred regions to a man known to defile them, but it felt so good. It simultaneously made you feel weak yet powerful, confusing your head and heart on right and wrong.

Aegon was silky in his touches, adding another hand to your neglected globe and leaning his countenance ever so close to them. You tried to hide your enjoyment in his efforts, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as the once saddened boy transformed into the mischievous Prince and brushed his finger over your nipple. You needn't look down to know there was a grin on his face, but you did. The water pooled in his sights was now gone, contentment in its place as he did the same thing to the other. You tipped your head back to hide from his observant gaze, knowing that if you continued watching, a moan would fall from your tongue and only feed his never ceasing ego.

His hold became harsher now, attempting to get a reaction out of you as you held firm. Aegon's index and thumb pinched your nipples, upping his antics. Still, you did not make a sound, but the bend of your knees and scrunching of your nose were winning enough for him, letting out a breathy chuckle as he continued to grope.

Aegon loved your tits. They fit perfectly into his hands as if the Gods made them with him in mind. He hated how you bound them. He believed that they should hang freely (preferably in his palms) without anything to step in the way of their full glory. He understood you did it to repress the sexuality of your body to the people of the court, wishing that by making yourself less palatable to the men and less of a competitor in looks to the women, you would be respected.

Aegon learned you would never admit such a thing to him, but he wasn't stupid. You made choices with careful calculation and a purpose; he just wished it didn't come in the form of repressing your body.

You were exquisite. The way your dark lashes batted against your cheeks, your midnight hair so long and thick that Aegon wished to blanket himself with it. People would constantly say that Targaryens are closer to Gods than men with white hair and purple eyes, but he didn't see it that way. His family rode dragons. That made them Gods, not the incestuous looks passed down from generation to generation in hopes of keeping their Valyrian blood pure.

You were just as gorgeous as the songs claimed Aegon the Conqueror's younger sister, Rhaenys was, but not in the supremacist ways his family judged. You appeared human, but a Goddess in your own right, not one that came with a name.

"I love your tits," Aegon complimented, lost in his mind as he rested his forehead on your sternum.

It felt natural to surrender to your desires, ignoring the racing thoughts that screamed at you to stop this. Your fingers rested on his meaty thigh, digging into the flesh as the Prince latched his mouth onto your nipple like a babe, swirling his tongue against the bud.

"Aegon!" you shouted in what was meant to protest but sounded more like a moan.

Your digits gripped his blonde hair, not pushing or pulling but giving you the faux action of control. You felt the vibrations of his breathy grunts through your ribcage, causing you to rub your legs together in desperation as he sucked brutally.

"Oh. Aegon, please," you whimpered, unsure if it was a plea for him to stop or keep going as you arched your back.

Wave after of pleasure rippled through your breasts and straight to your core, feeling uncomfortably wet as he moved his mouth to the other. A dull pain sensation rippled through your free tit as Aegon slapped it, soothing the skin with his touch before doing it again. You could feel his hips moving into the air, seeking the same ecstasy he was giving you.

Without thought, you found yourself unlacing his breeches, your trembling hands searching for what hid there. You pulled his throbbing cock free, seeing it for the first time and noticing the pearlescent liquid leaking from the rudy tip. He barely fit inside your hand, only your middle finger and thumb touching as you swiped the essence from his silt, dragging it down over a tiny ridge and veins.

Aegon's hips bucked at your touch, biting harshly against your abused nipple. You squeezed his shaft in response, throwing your head back momentarily as you began to move. You raised your hand in almost a spinning way, gently tightening around his cockhead before sliding down again, repeating it over and over.

"Gods. You're so fucking perfect. Your tits are so fucking perfect. They would feed babes well," Aegon mumbled against the plump skin of your breast, moving to the other one. You couldn't conceal the brief shock at his vulgar, coarse, and heady words, making you lose your breath as you sped up your ministrations.

The eldest Prince continued thrusting into your fist, aiding you as hot air from his nose dampened your chest. "So good. So fucking good, little one," he rambled into your flesh. "You're so good to me, my pretty girl-my good girl. You know what I need."

His words temporarily stole you from your trance, trying to conceal it with the tightening of your fist. Suddenly, the real reason you initiated this came to mind. It was just another step in securing the throne for your mother. Everything was falling into place. Perhaps it was just nonsense spouted during the heat of the moment, but it was still said. It was what Aegon felt, even if it was because your hand was pumping his manhood. A smirk rose to your lips in victory, leaning over to slide a glob of spittle onto him to help aid in his pleasure.

"I do, Aegon. I know what my sweet prince needs," you confessed into his hair, using your free arm to push him further into your chest. "My sweet Prince needs to come for his pretty girl. I want to feel your seed dripping on my flesh." You placed a chaste kiss on the crown of his head, yanking the ends of his damp hair so he could look into your eyes, deepening the act of your siphoning hand.

"Be a good boy, and let go for your little girl. I know you want to."

Aegon nodded aggressively, his lips parting as he panted. His thrusts became twitches until you felt him go entirely still, mouth agape, as he released the loudest, most lecherous groan you had ever heard, his thighs trembling. You felt the warm ropes of his spend on your still-moving fist, his cock spasming as it aided your pumps.

You soothed him through the aftershocks of his little death, kissing the salty tears that ran down his cheeks from the intensity of it. You sang praises in Aegon's ear as he clutched onto your body for dear life, attempting to ground himself. You were unsure of what else to say as a sense of triumph washed over you, the doubts you had from days prior only a distant memory.

This would be easier than you thought. You didn't have to let him do things to your body. If you kept his prick busy, you could leave Aegon completely satisfied and smitten without concern.

Instead of speaking and letting your thoughts escape you, you gave the buzzed Prince a peck on the nose, sliding out from under him to find a rag as you cleaned him and your hand. You opened the covers for Aegon after you were finished, seemingly a simple offer for him to stay, but you knew the truth. A smile curled on your lips as you watched him crawl under the sheets, his breathing still faster than normal from his climax. You felt like the cat who finally captured the canary.

You scooted closer to him, wedging your arm under Aegon's neck as you directed him to lie on your chest. You kept the strings of your gown untyed, allowing him free access whenever he wanted. Almost instinctively, he took it, cupping the curve of your breast in his hand as he settled. You felt him swipe self-soothing movements over your nipple for it to become hard again, blowing cool air to keep it that way.

"Will you sing to me?" Aegon suddenly asked, catching you unaware.

"I apologize, but I do not think my singing would be the last thing you want to hear before sleep," you lightly teased. "I am no siren."

You felt him smile against you, moving even closer into your body. "'Tis alright. Your mere presence is enough to lull me."

You lay there in silence, a war raging between your heart and your head. There wouldn't be any harm in singing. If it were what Aegon wanted, then you would do it. After all, it was just another stepping stone toward your goal.

"When you call to me asleep up the ragged cliffs, I scramble. A single thread hangs limply down, and I breathe, 'Not now, not now.' And I find you all unwoven, trying desperately to sew. I know the kindest thing is to leave you alone," you started, feeling Aegon's eyes widen against you.

"When your seams have come unknitted, and you cry out to the sky, I've run out of my words; my song just let me die, me die. The rockrose and the thistle will whistle as you moan. I could try to calm you down, but I know you won't."

The Prince's rubbing of your body gradually ceased, drifting off into a much-needed rest as you continued to sing the only melody that came to mind.

"All the pins inside your fretted head and your muttered whens and hows, all your mother's weaves and your father's threads. Let me rob them of you now. Because I'll darn you back together when you think that you're bereft, and you'll wail, you'll scream, but I'll never stop because it's all that I have left."

You felt your breathing hitch, swallowing a lump that had suddenly formed.

"I wake and hear you calling, and up those cliffs, I climb, and I find you with a thimble weeping, 'May I?' I ask, 'May I?' And you gently gift it to me because you've no clue how to sew, and I know the kindest thing. I pray to god it's the kindest thing... I know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone."

Masterlist of Series

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How about that exciting chapter? What do y'all think about that?! The song I included at the end is by The Amazing Devil titled The Rockrose and the Thistle and is sung mainly by Joey Batey, who you might know as the bard, aka Jaskier, in The Witcher Netflix series. Please take a listen to it if you have the time to support them!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter because I enjoyed writing it!

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @somemydayy, @ariana-dumbledore8, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @sunfyresrider, @sunny-boy-06, @heavenly1927, @prettylittlelady, @hjgdhghoe

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