#hoping to put a nice alternative into the world ^^

[fun-mad-ochouse]

HEY OMG I HAVE A FUN IDEA.

What if we (creators on Tumblr) did an Advent Calendar type thing- but instead of candy it's an OC tidbit or some lore. I think this could be used for just one OC or maybe one story, if said creator has several of those (like me). It could be a really nice method of encouraging people to put stuff out there, maybe some days could be art based- not strictly! Maybe just as an encouragement, or one of 2 options or something.

I'm just spitballing here ofc.. I'd love input from others-

[blank-potato]

You Exist Behind My Eyelids

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader

Summary:

“Bob,” you hiss. “He’s always looking at me.” Yelena raises an eyebrow, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. “And?” “And smiling at me. Like I just saved a kitten from a burning building or something. He lingers. He watches me eat. He asks how I slept. He walks me to the damn kitchen.” “And is that a problem?” Yelena asks curiously, chewing on her granola bar but clearly hinting at something you can't pick up on. You stop to think. It felt like you had fallen into an alternate reality where Bob didn’t ignore your existence… where he smiled when you walked into the room, where he made you breakfast and stayed close without needing an excuse. Or After getting back your memory, you struggle to come to terms with the life you've returned to. It's one where Bob cooks for you, and smiles at you, and you have no idea why.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ Explicit Content, fluff, implied smut but no smut, sex dreams, angst, abandonment issues, self deprecation, jealousy, memories/flashbacks, acquaintances to friends, friends to lovers, Chekov's diary, the new avengers interfering (a little)

WC: 13.7k

A/N: Title from See You Again by Tyler, The Creator and Kali Uchis. I heard your cries for a part 2 to Loving You Is Easy and I hath delivered. Sorry that this took entirely too long to finish, I hope you like it!

Part 1

***

Losing your memory was a trip. Almost a month of your life where you’re drawing a complete blank. 

Not to mention, everyone is weird now, like more weird than usual.

Especially Bob. 

He’s been at it for ages. Making up all sorts of culinary creations and giving them to you like offerings. They taste good. Not just good, incredible.

The amount of effort and care he’s been putting into waffles, omelettes, pancakes, French toast… it was quite nice. And it was driving you crazy because every bite felt like more than just food. Like affection, like something familiar, like a feeling your brain was trying desperately to name.

One morning, after you’ve sufficiently stuffed yourself with the golden, cinnamon-sweet French toast Bob made for you, you set your plate down and lean over to Yelena.

“What’s going on?” you whisper urgently.

Yelena blinks at you, unfazed. “With what?”

“Bob,” you hiss. “He’s always looking at me.”

Yelena raises an eyebrow, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. “And?”

“And smiling at me. Like I just saved a kitten from a burning building or something. He cleans my dirty dishes. He asks how I slept. He walks me to the damn kitchen.”

“And is that a problem?” Yelena asks curiously, chewing on her granola bar but clearly hinting at something you can't pick up on.

You stop to think. It felt like you had fallen into an alternate reality where Bob didn’t ignore your existence… where he smiled when you walked into the room, where he made you breakfast and stayed close without needing an excuse.

You supposed it was better than the little tango you’d dance every day, trying to stay away from each other. This was something, at least. But still… it felt strange. Off. Like you’d wandered into the middle of a story you used to know by heart, only to find the pages had been torn out and rewritten in someone else’s handwriting.

Now he was bringing you breakfast, offering to walk you to med checks, lingering a second too long when your fingers touched over a cup of tea, and you didn’t know how to feel.

“Are you sure you can’t tell me what happened during those weeks?”

“The doctors said we can’t. If they come back, they’ll come back on their own, don’t worry,” She says, giving you a reassuring pat on the back. 

It’s a tough pill to swallow, but what else could be done? You settle down with a tired sigh, trying to quiet your thoughts, when Alexei strides in, boots thudding against the floor.

“We’re out of those little frozen pierogies. I need them. For strength,” he announces to the room. 

“Well, I’m sure we could get someone to—” you start, but Yelena cuts in smoothly.

“One of us should go get it, right?” she says, way too innocent to be trusted.

There’s a pause. Like an invisible signal has passed through the room, one that everyone seems to pick up on except you and Bob.

“Maybe…” John adds, barely suppressing a smirk, “You and Bob could do it?” He looks directly at you, voice casual, but his eyes are all mischief.

“Great idea, Walker…” you mutter, audibly sighing in annoyance, arms crossed as you shoot him a look.

Bob shrinks just a little at your tone, shoulders drawing in like he’s trying to disappear.

“For once,” Ava adds with a smirk, not missing a beat.

You glance at Bob, who’s very determinedly not looking at you but is definitely turning a little red.

“Fine, we’ll go. You all seem weirdly insistent on it.”

The rest of the team had been doing stuff like this since you got your memories back, like when you’d mysteriously end up on Bob babysitting duty more often than the rest of them or how you’d always seem to be sitting next to Bob for everything. 

You arrive at the grocery store, donned in caps and sunglasses as if they were good disguises.

“Let’s just get in and out as soon as possible.”

“Right,” Bob agrees. You nod, looking at the list of things that you need to get.

He drives the trolley slowly and carefully. You look at him, he’s calm, collected, and quite focused, even if it is just a grocery run. You feel a small smile creeping onto your face when suddenly he looks at you. It’s like being struck by lightning, throwing you into complete disarray.

You stumble, tripping over your own feet, but he catches you before you fall headfirst into the display of canned tomatoes.

Bob doesn’t usually get this close. Being near you, even touching you, was rare nowadays, but he loved to feel close to you. If it was just for a few seconds, then he’d have to cherish those few seconds. 

“Are you alright? You seem distracted,” Bob comments gently, concern flickering in his voice. And he’d know, he pays more attention to you than you even realise.

“I’m perfect. Just…testing your reflexes,” You lie, he looks sceptical, but for your sake chooses not to push on it.

“Let’s get fruit, I think we’ll be murdered if we get nothing but junk food.” You say, and you go towards the fruit and veg aisle. You look around, still acutely aware of Bob’s presence — the lingering sensation of his arm around you clinging to your skin like a phantom touch. Putting it out of your mind, or at least trying, you go to grab some apples. But of course, Bob reaches for it too, and when your fingers brush against his, everything goes white. 

Suddenly, you’re no longer in the grocery store but somewhere that feels familiar, even though you’re sure you’ve never been there before. 

The smell of fresh coffee and old books fills your senses, warm and nostalgic. Soft light filters in through high windows, dust motes dancing lazily in the air. The quiet hum of a memory presses in around you, gentle and comforting.

“This one’s one of my favourites. You should give it a read,” Bob says, stepping into view and handing you a slim, worn paperback.

You take it slowly, your fingers brushing against the creased spine. The cover is faded, the title barely legible—a collection of poetry, clearly well-loved. You turn it over in your hands, tracing the edge of a dog-eared page, deep in thought.

“What?” Bob grins at your expression. “A guy can’t enjoy poetry?”

You look up at him, surprised by the easy vulnerability in his tone, the way his eyes are both playful and sincere. “You just surprise me,” you reply with a small smile. “Didn’t take you for the type.”

He shrugs, leaning back against the worn wooden bookshelf. “Guess we’ve both got sides we don’t know about each other.”

You glance back down at the book, the scent of aged paper filling your lungs. “What’s your favourite poem in here?”

Bob doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he watches you for a moment, then nods toward the book. “Page 43.”

You flip to it, eyes scanning the lines. It’s quiet. Soft. Something about ache and longing and finding peace in someone else’s silence.

“I found home not in walls or cities, but in the stillness between your breaths.”

“...And in the way your eyes forgive before your words do,” Bob finishes from just behind you, his voice soft, like he knows every line by heart.

You glance over your shoulder at him, lips curved into a small, half-smitten smile. “This is as good as the pizza,” you tease gently.

But your voice falters because your gaze gets caught.

The way the late afternoon sun filters through the window behind him, bathing him in light.  All you could focus on was the hue of his eyes and how the sun made the grey flecks in his eyes dance. This little moment, in the back of this little bookshop—hidden away behind leaning stacks and dusty, time-softened shelves—was captured in your eyes like a photograph. A photograph you wanted to live inside.

The memory fades out as you come to standing holding a bag of apples after you went to god knows where.

“Are you okay?” Bob asks.

He’s tilted his head, that ever-steady presence beside you, and looking at you with that familiar concerned expression, the one you’ve become so accustomed to.

“Yeah, I just…” You trail off, not really knowing how to explain yourself. These little flashes had been happening more often. They were sweet, almost unbearably sweet, always unexpected and more often than not about Bob. You were told there’d be side effects when you woke up, but never in a million years did you think they’d involve Bob-related daydreams. Or memories. Or whatever they were.

You shake it off with a faint smile, eyes drifting to the apples in your cart. “I think I might make something with these apples.”

Bob lights up instantly. “Can I help?”

His enthusiasm is boyish, almost endearing, like he’s been waiting for you to let him in, even if it’s something small.  And in a rare moment of softness, maybe without overthinking it this time, you say, “Yes.”

His grin grows wide, and you swear he stands a little straighter, like your answer meant more than you even realised.

You turn the cart down the next aisle, rattling off the other things you needed to buy, and he walks beside you, a little closer than before.

***

This was hell. Since the grocery store incident, you’ve been going crazy. Bob has been on your mind, and he refused to leave. He’s seemingly dead set on helping you out, whether it was waiting by the elevator until you came back from a mission and walking you to your room without saying a word, or showing up with coffee before you even realised you needed it — Bob was there. 

And since he was always there, the accidental touches and sudden flashes became more frequent. One minute he was handing you a water bottle when you stepped off the treadmill, and the next you were in a haze, frozen in a daydream that made Bob look like the perfect boyfriend.

It was messing with your head.

It was messing with everything.

The lines were blurring, and the more he smiled at you, the more you never wanted him to stop. 

But having a crush on Bob? 

That was impossible, it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. You had to do something, and what else could you do but distract yourself? 

Later that night, you walk out of your room… You’re all dressed up and feeling a little out of place, like you're playing a role you’re not quite used to yet.

The team stops you in your tracks — they’re all looking at you like you’ve grown a new head.

“Where are you going? Hot date?” Ava asks, raising an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face but clearly intrigued.

“Yes, actually,” you reply, and you’re not expecting their reaction.

The entire team lets out a big sigh of relief.

They're barely able to contain their excitement. These little, painful moments of watching Bob chase after you were over.

Finally, you and Bob had—

“You look incredible,” Bob says, stepping into the living room in very comfy attire — sweater, sweatpants, and socks that didn’t match.

“Where are you headed?”

His hair was a little tousled, like he had just woken up from a nap, but his eyes were locked onto you like you were the only thing in the room. He was definitely awake now.

The whole team freezes. If you weren’t going on a date with Bob, then who?

“On a date.”

“Oh.”

“Some guy asked me out when I was grabbing coffee down the street, so I said yes,” you say, voice light, but there's a nervous edge you can’t quite shake.

“Oh.”

The look on Bob’s face is downright painful; he looks like a kicked puppy, stunned and quietly devastated.

His jaw tenses, his eyes flicker down for a moment, and then he forces a smile onto his face, one that looks practised, perfect for situations like this.

“I hope you have fun.”

He’s trying to sound genuine, but you don’t miss the crack beneath his words, the emotion he’s holding back, just barely. And even though you’re standing right there, it suddenly feels like you’re a million miles away.

“Thanks…” you say softly, with a tight, uncertain smile, making your way past him.

Your perfume trails behind you like a memory he’s not ready to let go of, lingering in the air even after you disappear into the elevator.

No one says anything, but Bob can feel their eyes on him.

He doesn’t need to look to know what they’re thinking: the tension, the pity.

Bob felt deeply; he always had. He was sensitive in ways he rarely let anyone see. This… this was just another step closer to breaking. Ever since he lost you, he had been pretending it hurt to be without your love. That he didn’t miss holding you in his arms, falling asleep with you next to him. He didn’t have enough time with you, not nearly enough. He was filled with regret for not realising how he felt about you sooner, for every moment wasted. He’d give anything for just one more minute with you, just for you to look at him like you loved him, just one more time.

He missed you so much it hurt in places he couldn’t name.

But now? Now, with you going out with someone else and he was more jealous than he knew what to do with. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you for good.

His eyes glowed an ominous gold, the power starting to pulse and flow through his body like a rising tide he couldn’t hold back. His jaw clenches as his eyes drop to the floor, lights flickering at the edges of his vision, energy straining to stay in check.

Maybe you and he would never get back to the place where things felt simple.Maybe he had just been fooling himself this whole time. 

He was tired and angry, and confused… but mostly just sad.

Empty, even.

The glasses on the table start shaking ever so slightly, getting ready to break. He can feel control slipping through his fingers like sand, like it always does when emotions win.

He keeps his eyes downcast, fists clenched tight.

By this point, he’s not even pretending to listen; he can hear muffled voices around him, but nothing’s going through.

Just static. Just you, walking away.

Maybe you were done with him.

Maybe you’d never want him again—not the way he still wanted you.

Yelena steps in, calm and grounding, taking him gently by the arm to stop him from spiralling.

“It’s okay…” she says softly, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder.

He’s surrounded by people who care, and it helps.

He’s still shaking, still unravelling inside, but he’s able to get it under control just enough.

The lights above flicker— once, then twice — before it steadies and stops.

He breathes out, slow and bitter. He had to get used to this, didn’t he?

You weren’t in love with him anymore.

“I-I’m sorry… I should just go to bed…” he mutters, voice low and tired.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now,” Yelena says, voice firmer now, no room for argument.

“Let’s just put it out of your mind, hm? Together,” she suggests, gently guiding him toward the group.

Bob nods, silent, and sits down on the couch beside her.

“Who knows, maybe the date will be a disaster,” John offers with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

“Thanks, Walker,” Bob replies dryly, managing a ghost of a smile.

***

The date is lacklustre, to say the least. The guy, Brandon, had taken you to some fancy restaurant, and you’re sitting across from him, trying to give things a chance, but it wasn’t looking good. He orders for you without asking, rattling off a dish you’re not sure you’ll even like. And he spends more time talking about the wine list than asking you questions. 

This is why you didn’t go on dates.

Reaching out to take your hand, he says something, but you’re not listening. You become lost in another world again, your vision fading to white.

You’re not in a restaurant but standing beside Bob at the kitchen counter, the two of you surrounded by ingredients as you make milkshakes together. The soft hum of an old record plays in the background, and the air smells like vanilla and chocolate syrup.

“Are you sure we need this much caramel?” you ask, eyeing the generous scoop he’s just dropped into the blender.

Bob nods, he’s in the zone, completely focused, like a master at work. His expression is dead serious, like crafting the perfect milkshake is a mission worthy of national security clearance.

You smirk. “What about this?” you say, dipping a spoon into the ice cream and smearing a stripe across his cheek.

His head jerks toward you, eyes wide with mock outrage. “Oh, it’s like that?”

Before you can react, he lunges, scooping you up effortlessly and lifting you off the ground as you laugh, flailing gently in his arms.

“I surrender! I surrender!” you cry between breathless giggles.

“I’ll let you go… for now,” he says, setting you back down carefully, his hands lingering around your waist just a moment longer than necessary. It sends your heart into a full pitter-patter rhythm you swear he must hear.

He grins at you, eyes sparkling. “You ready for the best milkshake of your life?”

You nod eagerly.

Then he hits the blender.

And instantly regrets it.

A violent whir erupts, followed by a flurry of milk, caramel, and ice cream erupting like a dairy volcano, splattering both of you as you recoil in shock. You both fumble to turn it off, and the whirring stops. 

“You forgot the lid?” you ask, wide-eyed and dripping.

“I forgot the lid,” Bob admits, blinking through specks of ice cream, then bursting into laughter.

He grabs a towel, cupping your face and gently wiping you down.

“I’m sorry, I messed up.” He’s smiling, but it’s faint; you can tell it’s starting to weigh on him. “Don’t be sorry. It’ll make for a good story,” You say before swiping a bit of the milkshake off his nose and licking it off your finger. “Plus, this is delicious. It’s the perfect milkshake, I meant it!”

Bob chuckles, his nose crinkling a little as he tries to hide it behind his hand, but you see it. That unguarded laugh, the way his eyes soften, the corners of his mouth lifting just a bit too wide.

It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

“Hello? Are you listening?” your date asks, sounding increasingly more frustrated.

“Yeah, I uh…I’m listening…” You lie, nodding just enough to seem polite.

The next few minutes are a blur—you see his mouth moving, but not a single word registers. All you can think about is Bob.

There’s a story being told, something painfully dull about his job overseas and him bragging about how many people report to him. But it all fades to white noise the second Bob slips into your thoughts. His laugh, the way he wrinkles his nose when he smiles, the milkshake incident… everything else pales in comparison.

“I’m so sorry, but I… I can’t do this,” you say suddenly, standing up and grabbing your coat.

Your date calls after you, confused and annoyed, but you don’t look back. You don’t owe him an explanation.

You just have to get home and figure out what all these strange and not-so-strange feelings about Bob really mean, or at least push them down so far you never have to deal with them. 

***

The elevator beeps, signalling you’ve arrived at the top floor, and you’ve never been more glad to be back at the tower.

As the doors slide open, you kick off your shoes and step into the dim hallway, moving carefully through the darkness. But before you can reach for the light switch, you spot Bob on the couch.

He’s curled up, completely at peace, eyes closed as if the weight of the day finally caught up with him. Peeking into the kitchen, you see a plate of your favourite food sitting untouched, cooling on the counter.

You wonder if he’s been waiting up for you.

You walk over quietly, heart softening at the sight. But then you notice him shivering slightly in his sleep. You can’t believe he fell asleep here, nowhere near as comfortable as his own bed must be. You don’t want him to wake up with a crick in his neck.

You can’t exactly lift him to bed, so instead, you rush to your room and grab your softest, warmest blanket. Returning, you gently lay it over him.

“Much better,” you whisper, feeling a little proud, like you’re doing something right for once.

Just as you’re about to head back to check if he’s fully covered, disaster strikes.

In his sleep, Bob shifts suddenly, pulling you down with him. You find yourself trapped between him and the blanket, heart pounding as you try not to wake him.

“Bob, hey, you have to…” You start softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you look up at him.

You’ve never seen him this close before, only in your daydreams. His eyelashes are longer than you ever imagined, casting delicate shadows on his cheeks. His lips look soft, inviting even in sleep. Each breath he takes now feels impossibly fascinating, like you’re discovering something new about him with every rise and fall of his chest.

“Fine… I’ll sneak out later,” you mumble to yourself, barely audible.

Your body, surprisingly, begins to relax. You stop fighting the closeness and instead lean into his touch, the warmth and quiet presence settling over you like a balm.

It feels right—comforting in a way you didn’t expect—but underneath it all, there’s that familiar, quiet ache. That sense of something unresolved, poking at the edges of your mind.

But that’s a mystery for another day.

And bit by bit, you give in to the comfort and end up falling asleep while breathing in the scent of his shampoo. 

You blink awake, the feeling of kisses peppering your skin holding all of your immediate attention.

It’s soft and light, gentle enough to make you giggle.

There’s warmth, tufts of messy brown hair tickling your collarbone, and the feeling of strong arms wrapped tightly around you…

Realising those arms belong to a certain Bob Reynolds — not just any Bob, a shirtless Bob — your eyes widen as you shoot upright. “What are you…?” you start, glancing around in disbelief. You’re in a bed. His bed.

“What a hyperactive girlfriend I have,” he chuckles, easily laying you back down against the pillows with maddening tenderness.

Your brain can barely compute the fact that he said girlfriend. He smiles down at you like the sun just rose in your eyes, and you’re so easily disarmed, like you’ve been here a thousand times before.

“I don’t think you realise just how beautiful you are,” he coos, brushing his fingers softly across your bottom lip.

Those words��They feel like déjà vu.

They settle somewhere deep in your chest. Familiar. Comforting. Dangerous. It was so easy for him to say, and you didn’t know how to feel.

“Want me to help you relax?” He says, his voice suddenly like music to your ears.

You nod, your body moving on its own like you’ve been possessed, and he starts slowly slipping your clothes off, all the while looking at you like you’re a wonder of the world. His touch is light but teasing. Like he knows exactly how to leave you desperate, on the edge and needing more. 

He kisses his way around your body, treating it like a temple. Every inch of you is on fire with even the smallest of touches. 

His fingers curl in the strands of your hair, anchoring you to him as his lips press gently to your wrist, then trail upward with slow, deliberate care.

His legs are tangled with yours beneath the sheets, warm skin against skin, every brush of contact pulling you deeper into him.

Overtaken by the sensations, you find yourself pulling him in for a kiss you never wanted to end. His mouth meets yours like he’s been waiting for it, like he knows it — his tongue slipping past your lips like it’s second nature, like it’s always belonged there.

“Can I?” He asks, catching his breath, his fingers at the bottom of your shirt, so eager to just rip it off of you. “Yeah,” You reply breathlessly, needing his touch. 

He pulls back slightly, his fingers gently caressing your cheek, and before you know it, you’re naturally leaning into his touch, the warmth of his hand soothing you. There’s a sweet look in his eyes, full of tenderness, and somehow you feel like you can read his mind. An unspoken connection that almost scares you. He opens his mouth to speak, “I love—”

You wake up with a loud gasp. What in the ever living fuck was that? You were convinced that whatever it was couldn’t be real, but the alternative, that you were having sex dreams about Bob, wasn’t that much better. Morning has come, and you’re still in Bob’s arms (a fully clothed Bob thankfully) on the couch; he’s fast asleep. You scramble to get away from him before he wakes up; you don’t feel like explaining anything. But in your attempts, you unintentionally punch him in the stomach.  

“What the—?” Bob groans as he rolls on top of you. Being woken up with a punch couldn’t be pleasant. 

The two of you tumble off the couch in a mess of limbs, and he lands squarely on top of you.

The blanket twists around you both, tangling you in a heap on the floor.

Feeling his body pressed against yours sends your heart into a frenzy. His hands are on either side of you, caging you in as he hovers above, clearly trying not to crush you.

“I’m so sorry, how did we even…?” he stammers, brain still trying to wake up. 

“I–I came home last night and saw you on the couch. You trapped me and I just wanted to give you a blanket and—and…” You stutter, tripping over the words like they’ll somehow save you from the burning embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry,” Bob blurts out again, his cheeks flushed and his voice cracking slightly.

It seems the embarrassment wasn’t one-sided; he’s just as flustered, maybe more.

And yet, neither of you is making a move to get up.

Sure, you were mortified beyond belief, but being this close to Bob reminded you of your dream. His warmth came off him in waves, making you feel comfortable despite your racing heart. The soft, stormy blue of his eyes looked down at you with something that made your chest ache.

It felt too good.

You wanted to give in, to dive into this feeling even though you knew you shouldn’t, because if you did, there might be no going back.

Your eyes snap up just in time to see Ava standing a few feet away, one brow raised and a sly smile tugging at her lips.

“I didn’t want to interrupt.”

***

You were avoiding him again. It had been three days, and you hadn’t eaten a single one of his pancakes, and you only responded to him with short one-word answers where possible.

Bob knew it wasn’t because of the date. He’d overheard you complaining to Yelena about it in the training room. 

So it was him.

He doesn’t know what he did.

And nothing he tries seems to get through, it’s like the walls he’d started to gently tear down were rebuilt overnight… only now, they had defence systems he couldn’t even begin to navigate.

He’s alone in the Tower now. The silence presses in. And it’s on his mind. Your diary.

He knows that the memory-wiped version of you once told him he could read it. But it still feels iffy. Like he’s crossing a line. Still… it feels like he’s out of options.

You won’t talk to him anymore. You barely look at him. And the ache of not knowing why is driving him insane.

So he finds himself at your door.

The rest of the team is out on a mission, so it’s all quiet, just the sound of his own beating heart ringing in his ears. 

Opening the door quietly, he steps inside.

It smells like you. Feels like you.

He walks over to the drawer where you once said you kept it, hesitates for just a second… and takes it quickly. 

His chest tightened with frustration as he flipped through the pages of your diary, still unsure if he even should be reading it. But maybe it held something that could explain everything. Maybe it held what your issue was with him and why you were always avoiding him like the plague.

“Bob is avoiding me in the kitchen again. I don’t get why it’s so easy for everyone else but not me… I want to talk to him, but trying too hard is never safe. Why get attached?” he reads aloud softly, the words catching in his throat.

He swallows hard, guilt curling in his stomach. That wasn’t how it was supposed to feel for you. He thought he was giving you space. He thought maybe you needed it. That his presence might be too much.

Bob flips through more pages, the paper whispering as he searches for clarity, for a lifeline, until his eyes land on another entry.

“I can’t be around Bob… We’re too similar. If anyone could see through me, it’d be him. That’s why I avoid him specifically. If he saw me then and I mean really saw me, I don’t know what I’d do.”

He flicks to the next page, and your voice echoes softly in his mind.

“He’s gentle and complex, and sometimes he looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world alone. I just can’t seem to get through. I catch myself staring when he doesn’t notice, and wonder if I’ll ever be able to connect to him. It’s useless anyway, but I can’t help but wonder.”

And then the line that crushes him:

“Everyone leaves, so why give them the opportunity?”

The air feels heavier now.

It hits him, this wasn’t about him being cold or distant. This was you trying to protect yourself. You were trying not to hope, because hoping meant giving someone the power to hurt you. And all this time, he’d been holding back, afraid of messing it up, of overwhelming you… never realising you already cared. Deeply but quietly. 

He shuts the diary slowly, holding it to his chest for a moment like maybe it could absorb some of the emotion threatening to spill out of him.

And now he knows.

Now he understands why you flinched at closeness, why you left before anyone could ask you to stay.

He just had to show you that he’s not going anywhere.

***

Bob couldn’t push — he didn’t want to come on too strong.

He just wanted to spend time with you, to get you to let him in again, even if it was just in small, quiet moments.

Bob pauses in the doorway and sees you sitting in the lounge, your feet curled under you and your attention half-lost in a book. “I don’t mean to bother you, but can you help me with something?” he asks, voice hopeful. 

“Me?” You blink up at him, startled. “I’m sure Yelena could help you instead,” you immediately deflect, the words coming out sharper than you intended. He stiffens slightly, withdrawing into himself almost instantly.

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, that’s okay. Forget I asked,” he mumbles with a sad smile that barely reaches his eyes. He turns, slinking away like he’s used to retreating when he feels unwelcome.

But the moment he’s out of sight, guilt claws its way up your throat. You didn’t mean to make him feel small or dismissed. That wasn’t fair. You slam your book shut and jump up from the couch.

“Wait… I’ll help you,” you call out, your voice apologetic.

He stops in his tracks and turns back to you, surprised. “Really?”

You nod, walking up to him. “Yeah. Sorry… I didn’t mean to sound so cold. What do you need?”

“I know this is weird, but could you help me brush my hair?” He asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, before he quickly backs up, almost tripping over his own feet. “Actually, you don’t have to. It’s—”

“I’ll do it.”

Next thing you know, he’s sitting on the floor between your legs and you’re on the couch, brushing his hair gently with a hairbrush, with the TV on. 

“Your hair is really soft,” you murmur absentmindedly, almost as if forgetting who you were talking to.

“You think so?” he replies, tilting his head slightly back to look up at you.

You smile faintly, sorting through any small tangles with your fingers. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Oh shit, does that tingle?” you ask suddenly, catching the way he shivered when you touched a certain spot behind his ear.

“Yeah,” he says with a sheepish chuckle, “but it’s not a bad tingle.”

For once, not overthinking it too much, you just sit there, both of you watching TV, catching up on the episode of your favourite show that you’d missed.

“Remind me what’s happening again?” Bob asks, brow furrowing as he points at the screen.

“So basically, earlier on in the season, the girl found out that her real father isn’t the janitor, but actually—”

“The guy who kidnapped her dog,” he interrupts, already confused.

“No, no, sweet innocent Bob. That’s his evil twin,” you say, completely dead serious, grinning as you catch his wide-eyed reaction.

He smiles up at you, charmed by how engrossed you are in this ridiculous show. It was a small thing, but a glimpse into what could be, if you just let go. You were like the sun, and he was content just basking under your light for as long as he could.

“What? Is there something on my face?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

“No, I, um…” He hesitates, eyes dipping away before flicking back up to you. 

“I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” you mumble, looking even more sheepish as you fidget with the corner of your sleeve.

“No, no… I could listen to you talk for hours,” Bob replies genuinely, with a soft smile. It makes your heart stutter, your breath catch. No words can form; you’re completely lost in him. He clears his throat, feeling his cheeks starting to heat up. 

“Who’s in the love triangle again?” he asks suddenly, tilting his head, saving you from gawking at him like an idiot.

You perk up immediately with a gleam in your eye, ready to unload a full essay’s worth of information. “It’s actually a love pentagon…”

And just like that, you’re talking and laughing and massaging his scalp as you comb through his hair, both of you caught in a rhythm that felt unexpectedly natural. Maybe actually talking to Bob wasn’t so bad.

***

The next day, you traipse back into your room after a gruelling mission. Getting back into the swing of things is harder than it looks, especially with the exhaustion weighing on your shoulders and flashes of Bob being unexpectedly cute popping into your head every time you try to focus on fighting. Not to mention, you actually enjoyed brushing Bob’s hair, feeling his hair beneath your fingertips, watching him react when you’d graze a sensitive spot. This was insanity, and you needed to document it. 

Looking around the dim room, your eyes settle on your dresser. You move over and reach for your diary, something you haven’t written in for far too long.

You yank open your drawer, grabbing your diary with the full intent to emotionally unload every irrational (but valid) feeling bubbling in your chest.

But you notice your diary is sitting on a stack of paper. You take them out and freeze them. 

Pictures.

Your brows knit as you start looking through them. 

They’re all of Bob.

Photo after photo, in different lighting, from different angles, in different places. Him laughing, him holding coffee, him at the bookstore you dreamt of. One of him eating a sandwich with ridiculous focus. In every single one, he looks… happy. Radiant, even. Just Bob, but lighter.

You stare at them, a hollow kind of confusion forming in your chest. You don’t remember taking these. You don’t remember any of this.

Which only means one thing… these were from the weeks you lost your memory.

You rack your brain for a possible explanation. Were you stalking him? 

But then something shifts. You look closer. The angles aren’t distant or hidden. They're up close. Comfortable. Personal.

These were moments. You flip to the next photo, Bob looking right at the camera, smiling, soft and warm like whoever was behind it was someone he cared about. Like he was on a date.

And then more photos, but they were of you.

Walking through New York, holding an ice cream, grinning ear to ear. At a crosswalk, arms thrown out like you were catching the wind. Hair wild. Laughing like you hadn’t felt a single burden in your life.

You hadn’t smiled like that in so long. You were practically glowing. Something inside you cracks wide open. What the hell happened in those missing weeks? And why does it feel like…you were happy?

Like really happy.

With him.

You spring up, heart pounding, knowing you need to get to the bottom of this. Grabbing the pictures, you dash over to his room. Your hand hovers over the door, ready to knock, but then you freeze. What would you even say? What if the answer isn’t what you want to hear? What if it changes everything?

The doubt claws at you, but the questions won’t let you turn away.

But before you could think of what to say, Bob called your name. You turn your head to the side, he’s on his way back to his room. He notices the expression on your face and knows it’s something serious. 

“I… we need to talk,” you say, your voice shaky but determined.

Bob nods silently and walks over, letting you into his room. The moment you enter, you’re hit with a wave of familiarity, like you’ve been here before, like this conversation has already started somewhere deep in your memory.

You take a deep breath and sit down next to each other on the bed.

“I know why you’ve been really friendly recently. In the weeks I lost my memory…” You begin, watching his expression closely.

Bob’s eyes soften, like you’ve finally understood something important. “We became friends, didn’t we?”

He pauses, looking a little sad at the word “friends,” but when you pull out the pictures, his face changes.

“I… I remember,” he says quietly. “But these pictures… I’ve never actually seen them before. I only remember you taking them.”

His mind drifts back, replaying memories of the two of you inseparable, back when love was the only thing on both of your minds.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve looked happy like that,” you admit, flicking through the photos. You notice a flicker of quiet sadness cross his face as he looks at them. He must miss who you were, the version of you that these pictures captured.

“If you’re willing, I’d like to try again. Get to a place where things aren’t so uncomfortable. If you were able to do it with me then, maybe you could do it with me now.”

Bob recognised this was a huge step forward. He knew it wasn’t easy, maybe it never would be, but being your friend sounded like a gift he didn’t want to take for granted.

“I’d love to try,” he said softly, hope shining in his eyes.

***

Being friends is hard. It takes effort, and you don’t quite know what you’re doing, so it’s hard, but good.

It feels good to connect, even if it still scares you to try. There’s a quiet exhilaration in the small moments, like watching a movie together or just sitting side by side without any pressure.

You even made him an omelette the other day, and you swear he almost cried.

“It can’t be that good,” You protested.

“No, no, it really is,” he said, the quiet part he kept in his head being, “Because you made it for me.”

Now, you’re sitting with him again, the comfortable silence wrapping around you. He’s quiet, and you can tell he’s thinking about telling you something. Since this whole “friend thing” began a few days ago, you’ve become something of an expert in Bob’s body language—the way he fiddles with his hands when he’s deep in thought, how his eyes light up when he’s interested in something.

“What do you want to ask?” you interrupt his mid-thought.

He looks at you with a meek smile. “I was just wondering if you wanted to go get coffee? Kinda craving one.”

You pause for a moment, then reply, “Sure, that sounds… fun,” a shy smile working its way onto your face.

You both step out of the tower and onto the street. It’s a grey, overcast day, clouds hanging low, but after everything, just walking beside him, step in step, feels like a kind of quiet relief.

You don’t talk much, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it’s peaceful. Bob seems more at ease now, no longer walking on eggshells around you. It’s subtle, but it means everything.

You watch his back as he walks ahead, the strands of his hair being tousled gently by the wind. Your footsteps slow, then stop entirely as the now-familiar sensation creeps in like a thread tugging at your consciousness. Just like that, you’re being pulled away again. 

You open your eyes to the soft glow of fairy lights and the sight of Bob with his back to you, working meticulously to finish what looks like a little surprise just for you. There are cushions, blankets, and pillows all arranged into a comfy blanket fort in the living room. He’s focused, tongue tucked slightly into his cheek as he ties the last bit of fabric to the back of a chair, glancing over his shoulder.

“Are your eyes still closed?” he calls out.

You quickly squeeze them shut again. “Yeah, still shut.”

You can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you listen, hear the faint shuffle of him putting on music, the soft groan when he stubs his toe against the coffee table, and the patter of his footsteps approaching until he’s standing right in front of you. You can’t see him, but his presence is warm and unmistakable.

“Take my hand,” he says gently.

“I can’t see your hand,” you reply, trying not to laugh.

“Oh. Right.” You hear the smile in his voice as he reaches for you, carefully guiding your hand into his. His fingers wrap around yours, steady and warm, and he helps you to your feet.

“Eyes still closed?” he checks.

You hum in agreement.

“Open them.”

You blink your eyes open and are immediately greeted by the sight of the blanket fort in all its cosy glory. It’s strung with twinkle lights and layered with soft throws and fluffy pillows. Inside, there are even two mugs of something warm and a plate of pancakes waiting.

“After you,” he says with a quiet pride.

You both crawl inside, and it's everything. A little safe haven carved out of nothing. You settle down next to him, your shoulders brushing.

“This is perfect,” you whisper.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replies, sheepish but glowing with quiet pride. He takes a breath, hesitating just a beat. “I know it must be scary… not knowing who you are. I just wanted to do something to make it a little easier. Is that dumb? It’s dumb, right?”

You reach for his hand, laying yours over his, gently tracing your fingers across his knuckles. “It’s not dumb at all.”

Your eyes meet, and something clicks into place. It’s like exhaling after holding your breath all day, like sinking into a familiar rhythm, like… coming home.

Not to a place, but to a person.

You’re barely out of your daze when you hear the sudden ringing of a bike bell heading straight for you. 

Before you can react, Bob’s arm wraps around you, pulling you out of the way just in time as a bike messenger speeds past. You stumble slightly, but he steadies you, and suddenly your head is resting against his chest.

His shirt is soft beneath your cheek, and the scent of him fills your senses—it’s faint, clean… something warm like vanilla and cinnamon. 

You pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him, and for a moment, you're looking at him the way you do in your daydreams. The world slows. His hand lingers on your arm, his touch reassuring, grounding.

You feel safe. And maybe, for the first time in a long while… hopeful.

“Thank you… You saved me,” you say, the words almost teasing but laced with something softer underneath.

“I’ll always be around to protect you from bikes,” Bob replies gently, smiling like he knows something you don’t. 

You nod, and just as he’s about to start walking again, you reach out and take his hand. You don’t know why you did it. It’s like your body moves on its own. His fingers twitch slightly in surprise, and when he looks over at you, his eyes are wide.

“Just in case,” you murmur, trying to explain it away. 

“Just in case,” he echoes, quieter this time, like the words mean something more to him than he lets on. He smiles, that soft, rare kind of smile he saves for you, and keeps walking, your hands still clasped.

Walking inside, you’re immediately hit with the comforting smell of fresh pastries and ground coffee beans. It’s like a hug for your nose.

You step up to the counter and order your go-to, adding with a smile, “Oh, and can I get extra whipped cream?”

The barista nods. “Yeah, it’s just two dollars more.”

You nod again, already fishing out your card and tapping it without hesitation. Bob steps up behind you in line, casually scanning the pastry case while you wait for your receipt.

Then you see it.

The barista perks way up when it’s Bob’s turn, her voice turning a shade sweeter. “And what can I get started for you?”

He rattles off his order, and before he can finish, she cuts in, eyes shining. “And do you want that with extra whipped cream?”

Bob blinks, caught off guard. “Uh…”

“On the house,” she adds, flashing him a smile that practically sparkles.

“Sure, why not?” he says, still half-confused, then turns to you with a helpless shrug and a smile. You narrow your eyes, watching the barista giggle to herself as she starts prepping the drink. She was so obvious.

“Thanks,” He says before going over to meet you at the side where you’re loading your coffee a little aggressively, your mind still occupied by Bob and that girl.

“Almost ready to go?” Bob asks, ever casual, sipping from his coffee like nothing in the world could possibly be complicated.

But your eyes land on his cup, and immediately, something’s off. There’s too much black ink scrawled across it for it to just be his name. It’s only three letters for goodness' sake.

You lean in slightly, narrowing your eyes.

Numbers.

Your stomach twists. Your jaw tightens. And before you can think twice, the words are out of your mouth.

“She gave you her number,” you say flatly, ignoring his question entirely.

He glances at the cup, like he hadn't even noticed. “Oh… huh.”

That’s it? Huh?

The annoyance rolls off you in waves, and you hate that you can’t fully explain why. You cross your arms, shifting your weight, suddenly far too aware of how tight your chest feels.

You catch yourself and try to shake it off, but there’s a weight pressing down on your ribcage, a sharp little ache like something is stepping right on your heart.

Why did you feel so... jealous?

Bob wasn’t yours, there was no reason to be mad at a girl flirting with him, you should be happy for him, even. 

But all that was true, why did this feel like a sucker punch you weren’t prepared for?

Bob’s still looking at the cup, then back at you, head tilted. “You okay?”

You force a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. Totally. Let’s go.”

***

Since that day, something in you had shifted. You learned you may or may not have a jealous streak, and you had finally started to settle into being friends with Bob. It was nice, and makes you regret the time you spent avoiding him. 

And you had really started to realise just how much effort Bob had been putting into just being your friend, even when you were cold, unreceptive, and distant.

It wasn’t fair.

You wanted to make it up to him.

And what better way than with a milkshake?

You thought back to that daydream you had, or maybe it was a memory.

If the whole milkshake-making thing was real, then he should love this.

If it wasn’t… well, hopefully he still did.

Bob’s up early, being knocked out of sleep by the summer heat. He gets up to get water and hears something unexpected. The sound of a blender whirring at 6 am.

He walks into the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck, only to see you standing at the counter, fiddling with the blender.

There are a few unsuccessful batches of whatever you’re making scattered around, splashes on the counter, a sticky trail leading to the sink. You bite your lip in concentration, brow furrowed, completely absorbed in the task. He thinks you look so cute like this.

Bob says your name, and you freeze like a deer caught in headlights, like you’ve been caught red-handed.

“Bob. You’re here.” You say it like it’s a surprise, like you weren’t hoping he'd find you.

He furrows his brow slightly, a curious smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What are you doing?”

There’s no point in hiding it now. You sigh and admit, “Making you a milkshake?”

He blinks, surprised, and then he’s smiling. Really smiling.

It’s that slow-building kind of joy that lights up his whole face, the kind that makes your heart clench.

“For me?” he asks, almost in disbelief.

You nod, a little sheepish. “I wanted to do a trial run this morning. Just in case it sucks.”

Bob chuckles, stepping closer and leaning on the kitchen island, his eyes warm and fixed on you.

“I doubt it would,” he says softly, and he means it.

“Can I have a taste?”

You answer, “Knock yourself out,” feigning an air of nonchalance when in reality you’re nervous as hell.

You didn’t want him to hate it, especially after you’d loved and eaten your weight in pancakes these past few weeks.

You just wanted to do something nice, to let him know how much you appreciate him.

He grabs a spoonful and lets it dance on his taste buds. At first, his eyebrows furrowed. That couldn’t be good, right?

Then he looks up at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “How did you know I like salted caramel milkshakes?” he asks, genuinely surprised.

You hesitate, unsure how to explain.

“I…” you start, then take a deep breath. What were you supposed to say? 'I saw it in a daydream, which may actually be a memory, but I’m not sure?'

So instead you say, “Just a feeling.”

“It’s the perfect milkshake,” he says, eyes shining with genuine delight.

“Not quite,” you answer with a playful smile, crossing your arms.

He grins mischievously, taking a little scoop and smudging it gently on his cheek. “Now, it’s perfect.”

You laugh, reaching up to wipe it off, and for a moment, everything feels light and easy.

You spend the rest of the morning together, sharing the milkshake — one glass, two straws, since you’d only made enough for one.

Between sips and smiles, the distance between you shrinks, and for once, you don’t want to push anyone away. 

Later that night, you stand quietly by the window, staring out at the living room. Your eyes land on the now-empty space where the blanket fort from your daydreams had been, still vivid in your mind.

“You’re deep in thought,” Bucky’s voice cuts through the quiet, calm, but knowing, as he stands across from you.

“I’m deep in thought a lot these days,” you sigh, not bothering to mask the exhaustion in your voice.

You take a deep breath, eyes still fixed on the ghost of that memory. “I know you can’t tell me what happened in those weeks I lost… but ever since then, I’ve been seeing things. Glimpses. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not, but they all revolve around one thing.”

You don’t say it, but you don’t have to. The look Bucky gives you says it all—he knows you’re talking about Bob.

“How does it feel?” he asks gently.

“Hm?”

“The memories. How do they feel?”

You open your mouth, then close it again. How do you explain something like that? It’s more than just an emotion, it’s a moment. Like wrapping your hands around a mug of hot chocolate on a cold day or finding one last cookie you didn’t know you had.

“It feels… good,” you say at last. “It feels right.”

Bucky watches you for a moment, then leans forward slightly, thoughtful. “If it feels right, maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something.”

You turn to him, your voice quieter now, more unsure. “Should I listen to it?”

Bucky offers the faintest smile, the kind of smile born from experience, from hard lessons learned. “The head lies a lot more than the heart does. If something in you feels at peace when you’re around him… maybe that’s your answer.”

You nod in as you watch him walk away, before something occurs to you, “...wait, I didn’t say anything about any him.”

“You’re not too hard to read, especially when it comes to him.”

You lay your head against the cool glass, your skin too hot, your heart twisting in ways you couldn’t explain. Embarrassment flooded through you. Whatever this was, this feeling that had been unravelling you from the inside out, it was getting harder to ignore.

But then there was the smile tugging at your lips, soft and involuntary. And that strange flutter in your chest.

You knew.

Even if you weren’t ready to say it out loud, you knew.

The floor creaked softly behind you, and you lifted your head to see Bob standing there, that same poetry book you’d seen him with before held carefully in his hands.

“Bob,” you breathe.

Just seeing him makes your heart skip. Was that normal? Or were you sick? Emotionally compromised? Both?

“That book…” You murmur. “Will you read me something from it?”

He’s a little surprised, but he nods. “Of course.”

And then, before you can second-guess yourself, you’re reaching for his hand, guiding him to the couch with you. It’s easy in a way it never used to be, natural like you’ve done it a hundred times before.

You sit next to him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his side. He flips through the pages, reading from one page and then another.

“I have no idea what this means,” he admits, pointing to one of the lines with a soft chuckle, “but I like the way it sounds.”

“I like the way it sounds too.”

But it wasn’t just the poem. You liked the sound of his voice. It was smooth and warm, like chocolate on your tongue or honey in tea. Every word he spoke wrapped around you like a spell, one you weren’t sure you ever wanted to break free from.

You slowly, carefully, lean your head onto his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” you ask, voice small and scared of his rejection. 

He freezes for a moment, then nods. His face doesn’t flush, but his ears are bright red. The reaction makes your chest ache most softly.

There’s a quiet, almost shy joy in his expression at how close you are. He clears his throat, trying to regain composure, and begins to read again. Each line, an ode to you. 

***

There’s a soft knock on your door. You get up, waddle out of bed, and suddenly face to face with Bob.

“I missed you,” He breathes out, you don’t even get to respond before he’s lifting you off the floor and carrying you back to your bed.

The entire time, he’s whispering sweet nothings into your ear between his kisses—soft murmurs like, “All mine…” and “Need you so bad.”

His breath warm against your skin, his voice low and urgent, making your heart race.

Then, with a playful grin, he gently tosses you back onto your bed, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Can’t spend another second away from you,” He whines, as he places himself between your thighs.

“So…” You’re forced to pause, distracted by his lips and teeth, marking your neck in desperation, “Insatiable.”

He gets down on his knees suddenly and pulls you to the edge of the bed. Immediately, he pulls off your shorts, or rather tears them off, his strength getting the better of him. But he leaves your panties on, happy to see that you’re already soaking through the fabric. 

“I liked those shorts.”

“Trust me, you’ll like what I do to you a lot more.”

He lays a kiss against your clothed pussy, making you squirm. “Don’t tease me,” You beg, and all he does is smile up at you, as if he’s innocent. He rubs your clit through your panties, working you up then moving away, over and over again. 

“If you want me to do something,” He drawls as he leans in, his breath now against your ear, “You’re gonna have to scream my name.”

“Bob!”

You jolt upright in bed, heart racing, breath uneven. You’re still half-lost in the throes of the dream. You can almost imagine Bob’s lips on your legs, travelling upwards until—No. You wouldn’t finish that thought. 

Thankfully, you're in your own bed. Not curled up against Bob. Not still on the couch where you fell asleep.

You press a hand to your chest, trying to steady the frantic rhythm of your heart. It’s hammering, wild and traitorous.

Okay. Deep breath.

The sun's already crept past the blinds, washing your room in soft morning light. Somewhere down the hall, Bob is probably making breakfast. Casual. Unbothered. Probably completely unaware that you just had a dream that could get you both kicked out of the Avengers’ group chat.

You groan and flop back onto your pillows, covering your face with both hands.

You just hoped he carried you to bed before the dream started. Because if he did it afterwards and there was any talking in your sleep involved, then you might actually have to fake your own death and move to a remote cave in the mountains. 

You try to reason with yourself.

Telling yourself that it was just a dream. Probably because his voice was the last thing you heard before drifting off. That’s all. A subconscious reaction. Harmless. Totally harmless.

After a shower, you toddle out of your room, hair still damp and wearing the comfiest clothes you own. You peek out from behind a wall—and lo and behold, there he is.

Bob. In the kitchen. Making something that definitely smells like your favourite breakfast.

You pause, eyes locked on him.

His back is to you, sleeves pushed up, hands moving with an ease and purpose that feels borderline unfair. You watch the muscles in his forearms flex slightly as he flips something in the pan, and your brain betrays you. You can only imagine how those hands would look even better wrapped around your thighs—

No. No. Nope.

You slap that thought out of your head like it's a mosquito. Not going there again. Not right now. You keep watching, borderline creeping, when suddenly a voice nearly kills you on the spot.

“Spying?”

John.

You jump about a foot in the air, clutching your chest like an old Victorian lady. “For fuck’s sake, Walker!”

John leans against the wall next to you, smug and sipping coffee like he didn’t just give you a heart attack. You swear, if you weren’t so mortified, you might’ve actually punched him.

“No. Just… observing,” you breathe out, barely.

“You were definitely spying,” he says, far too amused. “If you drooled any harder, there’d be a puddle at your feet.”

You glare at him, cheeks heating. “I wasn’t– shut up. I wasn’t drooling.”

He lifts an eyebrow and sips again, like he doesn’t believe you for a second. “Sure. Just saying... if you actually talked to him, it might be more effective than… whatever this is.”

You grumble something under your breath and peek back around the corner.

Bob is still there. Still cooking. Still completely unaware of the internal crisis he’s causing.

Maybe John had a point.

Unfortunately.

You could watch him all day—had been, actually. Bob’s presence drew your attention like gravity, and the longer you kept your feelings bottled up, the crazier you felt. 

The best way to go about it was the scariest. You had to confront him directly.

You bide your time, waiting until late evening, when most of the tower was quiet and the others were off doing their own thing. Your heart was thudding like it knew what you were about to do.

You found Bob alone in the common area, and you cornered him, explaining your plight to him.

“And basically, I’ve been having these daydreams and actual dreams, which I think are actually memories or something. So I have to ask, or rather confirm, during those weeks when I lost my memory…”

You gulp.

“We had sex, right?” You mumble, looking around the room.

Bob’s eyes widen. His mouth opens and closes once before he finally manages to speak. It feels like it takes forever.

“…No,” he says, gently. “We didn’t.”

Your stomach drops. “Oh. So that was just…?”

Your voice trails off, and all you want is for the Earth to open up and swallow you whole.

Someone should pack you in a crate, slap a “fragile” sticker on you, and ship you to a remote island. You’d just admitted to having sex dreams about the man to his face.

Bob shifts, suddenly flustered himself. “Wait, no—I mean—not that I wouldn’t have… I mean, we just didn’t want to rush anything, especially while you were still trying to figure things out. We were… really close. I cared a lot. I still do.”

The twinkle in his eyes when he saw the photos, the way he pulled you out of the way when the bike almost hit you, him smiling at you when you brushed his hair… It all clicked.

“We were…” You clear your throat, willing yourself to speak clearly, “In love?”

“We were in love,” Bob admits softly. 

“That’s why the daydreams I’ve been getting… they’ve felt so real. Because they were real, once. They’re pieces of us,” you say softly, your voice trembling with the weight of the truth.

Then, gathering every bit of courage you have, you ask the question that’s been haunting your mind.

“Do you still love me?”

This felt like the edge of something, like one wrong word would break your heart forever. You told yourself you’d accept it if he didn’t. If he only loved the girl who took pictures of him eating sandwiches, and made milkshakes with him and not the girl who had shut him out and avoided him for weeks. But three words from him shut your thoughts up. 

“I never stopped.”

It all goes quiet. He said exactly what you wanted to hear, what you needed to hear. 

You collect your thoughts, standing in front of a man who loved you so deeply.

You’re scared, giving your heart away is no easy thing.

But looking at him, seeing the warmth and honesty in his eyes, you know it’ll be safe with him.

“I think…” You pause, shaking your head slowly as if the words might fall into place with movement alone. “No, I—I know that I love you now.”

His eyes soften, but you can still see the flicker of uncertainty dancing just behind them.

Then, quietly, he asks the question that matters most:

“How do you know that you love me?”

You know what he’s really asking.

You step closer so he sees it in your eyes as well as your words.

“When I tried to imagine a life without you, I felt sad. Actually, that’s not quite right. I felt… empty. Like if you left, you’d be taking a piece of me with you.”

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers together.

“When I’m with you, it’s like a world that I never used to understand finally makes sense. Like everything’s… aligned. But when you’re not around?” You breathe in shakily, then smile softly.

“I still imagine what it’d be like if you were.”

You pause, smiling just thinking about it.

“I just… I love you with everything I have, and I don’t know if I’ll ever remember falling in love with you the first time, but I’ll never forget falling in love with you this time.”

As soon as you say that, Bob wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, and kisses you. A kiss full of all the weeks he’s waited for this moment. To hold you, to know that you love him as much as he loves you.

He kisses you again and again, whispering, “I love you,” with every touch of his lips, each word a promise.

***

For the next week, life is all pancakes and stolen kisses. You were buzzing with joy, glowing in a way that made it impossible to hide how happy you were. The team was happy, too, that you and Bob were finally happy. Even if you were nauseatingly cute with the forehead kisses and shared hoodies.

He read to you most nights until you fell asleep, sometimes with the book still in his hand. You’d basically made Bob’s bed your own by now—memorising the dips in his mattress, the way he mumbled in his sleep, the exact rhythm of his heartbeat.

The kitchen had become one of your favourite make-out spots. Something about the early mornings, soft lighting, and the smell of coffee just made it impossible to keep your hands off each other. One day, all he was doing was trying to get his coffee, and next thing you knew, you were grabbing him by the shirt and kissing him like it was the last time.

“Can’t keep my hands off you,” you gasped, breathless between kisses.

Bob turned slightly red, eyes twinkling. “I can tell.”

Then he was lifting you onto the kitchen island with zero hesitation, his hands running over your hips, mouth finding your neck like he’d done it a thousand times before. You were both so wrapped up in each other that you didn’t hear the door until—

“Ahem.”

You froze.

Alexei stood there, arms crossed, and a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t let me stop you,” he said dryly. “It’s… cute.”

You buried your face in Bob’s chest, mortified. “I’m going to die of embarrassment.”

Bob just chuckled, one arm wrapped protectively around you. “Not before I do.”

That night, as you fall asleep next to Bob, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, your head resting on his chest and his fingers lazily drawing patterns along your back… all you could think was: How could this possibly go wrong?

It felt too good, too right, like everything in your life had finally clicked into place. The way he held you, how safe and warm it felt to just exist beside him. The world outside could fall apart, and you’d still feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

But somewhere deep in your chest was the smallest flicker of fear. Not loud enough to ruin the moment, but enough to make your fingers clutch his shirt just a little tighter in your sleep.

Because sometimes, when something feels this perfect… it almost doesn’t feel real.

You sit up in your bed, disoriented… but something feels off. It’s cold. Bob’s not there.

“Bob?” you call out softly, but there’s no answer. Just silence.

You scramble off the bed and start searching the Tower, calling out his name as you move through hallway after hallway. But everything feels… off. No trace of leftovers on the kitchen counter, or jackets draped over the back of the couch. No clutter, no noise. It’s been completely scrubbed clean.

Like the team was gone.

Or like they were never even here at all.

Your heart thuds in your chest as you open Bob’s door and finally come face to face with him.

“Bob, where did you—?” You stop dead. Everything in his room is packed up. Boxes. Bags. Drawers empty.

“You’re leaving?” You barely even get out the words.

“No… you’re leaving me,” You say, your voice shaking but resolute. “Please say something. What did I do wrong?”

He doesn’t speak. He looks distant, vacant, like he’s looking right through you.

“Bob, say something!” You cry out.

You step forward, trying to reach out for him… but suddenly, it’s like he’s stretching farther and farther away. Each step feels heavier, your legs like lead, like you’re being dragged through thick marsh. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t get to him. 

“Please just…” your voice cracks, eyes burning, “Please wait for me.”

But he doesn’t turn. He keeps packing, his back to you like a wall.

“Bob, please!” You plead again, desperation flooding your voice. “Please tell me what I did, tell me how I can fix this. Just don’t…”

You fall to your knees, the weight of it all crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Your voice is barely a whisper now.

“Don’t leave.”

But it’s no use. 

It’s like you don’t even exist to him anymore.

When you wake up, it’s still dark out, just the blue-grey blur of dawn slipping through the blinds. Bob is beside you, still asleep, his arm loosely draped across your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You know—you know he loves you. But you’re scared. That at the drop of a dime, he’s going to leave, and you won’t see it coming. It won’t be loud or dramatic. It’ll be soft. Quiet. The way people drift away when you’re not looking. Every time you look at him, it’s like you’re already preparing to lose him.

The walls went straight up, and Bob noticed immediately. From waking up alone to not seeing you all day. You weren’t gone, but you barely looked at him. Every glance was half-hearted, every smile short-lived. You were slipping. He felt it.

He finds you in your room, sitting on the floor with an old shoebox of memories cracked open. You're looking over pictures of the two of you—early days, sunlight and laughter in your eyes. Your fingers linger on the edges like they burn.

When you see him enter, you pack them away fast, like he’s caught you doing something shameful.

“You’re avoiding me,” Bob says, standing in the doorway.

“I’m not. I’m just busy. Is it a crime to be busy?” you snap, sharper than you meant to. But it’s easier this way. Back to the same old routine of building distance, of pushing before you can be pulled. This felt easier. Safer. Who were you kidding?

Bob doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t step back. He walks in and sits down beside you, close but not crowding.

“I know why you’re pushing me away,” he says, voice low but steady. “I’m not going to leave you.”

You want to believe him. God, you do. But your chest tightens like it’s been waiting for the moment to crack.

“People always say that,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes. “Right before they do. And how do you even know that’s what I was thinking about?”

“I…read your diary—”

“You read my diary?” you in, your breath catching. That was a line—a clear invasion of privacy.

“I know I crossed a line,” he nods, guilt flickering across his face. “But you told me to. Before you lost your memories, you said it might help me understand you, and I feel like I do.”

You teeter on your heels, looking around the room like you might bolt at any second. Your heart is pounding too loudly to think clearly. Bob steps forward, into your space, grounding you.

“You’re not going to lose me,” he says, steady and soft. “I see you. And I love who I see.”

You shake your head, almost laughing, but a step away from crying at the same time.

“Bob, you don’t mean that. You can’t mean that,” you say, voice cracking under the weight of everything spilling out of you.

“I do,” he says firmly. “Every part of you. Every little quirk. I see it, and I love it.”

“You…” Your throat closes. “I’m broken, Bob. People always leave. My own mother left. You don’t understand—I'm a mess. I fall apart, I shut people out, I push them away. It’s why no one sticks around. I’m a complete wreck.”

You suck in a breath, trying to swallow your panic. “Let’s just… cut this off before you see the worst parts of me and realise I’m not worth it.”

He gently turns your face back toward his, fingers warm and sure under your chin. His eyes, those kind ones, are locked on you.

“Loving someone, truly loving someone, isn’t conditional,” he says quietly. “It’s not about perfection. It’s messy and complicated and terrifying sometimes. But when I fell in love with you the first time, I felt something I’ve never felt before. It’s like my whole world opened up,”

He pauses, swallowing hard.

“And then… I got to fall in love with you all over again. It’s been beautiful, every single moment spent with you has been a gift.”

He cups your face in his hands now, and you relax into his touch.

“I’m not going anywhere when things get tough. I won’t run when you break down, or when it gets ugly. I choose you. I love you. And nothing is going to change that.”

The dam breaks.

Tears spill down your face like a waterfall. All the things you’d held in for so long crash out of you like a wave you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I… I love you too,” you choke out, voice trembling. The words taste like surrender and relief all at once.

He cradles you in his arms, holding you like he means it, like he’s anchoring you to something steady. Something real.

You bury your face in his chest, letting yourself be vulnerable for once, 

You’re safe.

No more pretending. No more running. For the first time in a long time, the future doesn’t feel like a ticking bomb. It feels like something you can face together.

And maybe that’s what being in love really is. Not the absence of fear, but choosing to stay in spite of it.

“Can we get ice cream or something?” You ask.

“Of course.”

***

Now that you were done dealing with your issues alone, both of you felt lighter… like breathing came easier. It’s like the weight of silence had lifted, and suddenly, you couldn’t be away from Bob—not for long. His presence had become your anchor, your gravity.

Your phone didn’t charge, but that’s irrelevant, not when you get to wake up next to Bob, his hair messy and arms around you like the night hadn’t ended.

You stubbed your toe on the edge of the nightstand, but that also doesn’t matter, because Bob loves you, and nothing can ruin your day.

You hear a commotion in the kitchen—raised voices, something clattering—but that shit doesn’t matter either. Not while you’re in love. Not while you're wrapped in this hazy, glowing calm that makes the world feel muted and far away.

You wander into the kitchen, still in a dream, still floating like you have wings... There’s an argument going on. John and Ava’s sharp voices are now muffled, like static through so you barely register it.

The argument only becomes real when you notice something flying toward your face.

A frying pan.

It soars across the room in an elegant, absurd arc—spinning once, twice—and hits you smack dab in the face.

You’re still happy though; you were thinking about Bob as you hit the ground. 

A while later, you wake up in the medbay, which you had become very accustomed to. But this time… this time it was different. It was like everything came rushing back in full colour, flooding your brain all at once.

You look at the empty chair beside your bed, and you remember exactly how Bob looked when you first woke up with amnesia. His messy hair was in front of his eyes as he slept. 

You remember trying to make him pancakes and failing miserably. You remember pretending to be a couple on the subway. You remember your first kiss. You remember everything. 

It’s like your heart snapped back into place.

You tumble out of bed, heart racing. You need to see him. Now.

“Should you be up already? And I’m so sorry about the frying pan—it was all Walker’s fault—” Ava stammers, rushing toward you.

“It’s okay, it happens,” you say, brushing it off with a dazed grin. “Where’s Bob?”

“In the kitchen?” she says, still concerned, watching you wobble toward the door like a drunk moth.

You run—well, hobble—off in search of your Bob, adrenaline and longing pulling you down the hall. Until you find him.

He’s in the kitchen, putting together snacks like a man on a mission. Quiet, focused, gentle.

“Bob!” you call, your voice cracking from emotion and recent concussion.

He looks up instantly, eyes widening in relief. “What are you doing out of bed—?”

You jump into his arms, surprising him — he catches you, confused by the sudden burst of excitement.

“Pancakes.”

“Oh. Do you want me to make some or—?”

“No, pancakes!” you exclaim, unable to contain your joy.

His eyes widen as the realisation hits him. “You remember?”

“Everything,” you say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, stealing the breath from his lungs.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and in that moment, you never want to let him go again.

“Really?” he asks, voice full of wonder.

“From our first pancake to our first kiss on the rooftop. I remember it all,” you whisper, your heart full. “You really didn’t give up on me.”

“And I never will,” Bob replies, pulling you back into a tight hug.

Your hearts beat in sync as you hold each other close, and in that moment, you both feel completely whole, finally, together.

“Remember when we said that we’d… y’know, when my memories came back?”

“Right now?” He blinks at you. 

“Now. Take me to your room, or we can do it right here, I don’t care.”

Bob blinked once—just once—before everything in his expression changed. His eyes darkened with intensity, lips twitching up into the beginnings of a grin. He wasn’t complaining one bit.

Bucky, however, was.

From somewhere behind you, Bucky let out a string of protests. “Guys, this is a shared space! Kitchen! Food prep happens here!”

“Fine, we’ll take it elsewhere for your sake.”

You jump and wrap your legs around his waist, arms around his neck, clinging to him like a koala. 

He catches you easily and carries you through the hallway, past the curious eyes of the rest of the team, who were all internally celebrating like their favourite slow-burn finally paid off.

He doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t stop, just keeps walking with a purpose only you can give him.

He pushes open his door, kicking it shut behind him, and lays you down gently on the bed like you’re something rare and delicate. He hovers above you, eyes searching yours with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low and steady, though you can see the hope flickering behind his gaze.

You cup his cheek with your hand, thumb brushing lightly under his eye. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He kisses you, slowly at first, like he’s afraid to break you, but then with more certainty. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer, grounding you even as the world starts to tilt.

Except it’s not the world that’s tilting.

It’s you.

You lift your head just enough to meet his eyes, your fingers curled lightly at the nape of his neck. “Is this going to happen every time we kiss?”

He raises an eyebrow, his smile smug but affectionate. “Is that a problem?”

You laugh, a real laugh that bubbles up from somewhere deep in your chest, and press your face into his neck, nose brushing the warm skin there. “No… but it does give me a few ideas.”

Masterlist

[asha-mage]

BingLiuShen au where Shen Qingqiu's fevered heteronormativity poisoned brain decides that the best way to avoid dying for the crime of being a heterosexual male in a stallion novel is to pretend not to be heterosexual and thus not a threat to the protagonist's harem. He figures if he can hit that sweet spot where his (supposed! Not real at all!) sexuality is just a quirk of the beloved mentor then the narrative will have no choice but to keep him alive. Airplane might be a hack, but he's exactly the sort of hack who would put in a token gay character, then shunt them off to the background, only to be trotted out again when he's getting flack in the comments for sexist, homophobic, and/or generally shitty writing decisions.

And for Shen Yuan, whose stated life goal is to idle away the hours in luxury and occasionally bask in Binghe's protagonisty coolness (in a very heterosexual way of course!) that would be the perfect out. There's just one problem- how does he demonstrate his (definitely fake!) homosexuality without playing into homophobic tropes and getting himself killed for offending the genre's aggressively het sensibilities?

The answer? Pretend to be pinning away silently in unrequited love for another man. It's perfect! All he has to do is drop a few extremely subtle hints in Binghe's hearing implying having feelings he would never act on for say, Liu Qingge, and he'll be golden. After all, what person attracted to men (which he isn't!) wouldn't fall immediately in love with the Bai Zhan War God? It has the added benefit of proving what a good Token Gay he is by the fact that he saved Liu Qingge's life without any expectations or hopes and without ever even revealing his (supposed!) feelings.

Shen Qingqiu gets about a week of feeling like a genius after putting this plot into motion before Liu Qingge starts showing up at Qing Jing with small gifts and pastries and asking to spar, and well. In between melting down (because how on earth did he put it together from the grand total of three entirely ambiguous hints he dropped!) and trying to stay composed (because even the straightest guy- which he is!- would get flustered by having Liu Qingge smiling at him Like That) he figures the only rational thing to do is just Commit To the Bit, resign himself to one day becoming cultivation partners with Liu Qingge and retiring together into the background of future plot shenanigans. Their are clearly no other possible ways of dealing with this situation, and hey being with Liu Qingge of all people isn't bad. That's a fan favorite character and he's stupidly handsome and brave and kind! Shen Qingqiu could do a lot worse, especially in a world like PIDW. In fact given the alternatives, Shen Qingqiu's could probably consider himself incredibly lucky. Objectively that is. From a purely 'guy trying to survive this dumb novel' point of view. It would be an honor to have Liu Qingge's arms wrapped around him. If he where into men of course.

Meanwhile you have Luo Binghe in the background of every scene the two are in with a forced smile, internally speed running the '*fork in garbage disposal noises*' to 'I just want my Shizun to be happy! I swear!' to 'actually Liu-shishu is really nice I can see what Shizun sees in him' to 'oh no I think I want to be in the Middle Of Whatever That Is' arc.

(And of course, Binghe at the end of the day IS the protagonist, and after much trial and tribulation, is supposed to get exactly what he wants...)

And all the while you have Liu Qingge, utterly oblivious to the mental anguish and gymnastics of his shidi and shizi, who just keeps turning up at Qing Jing, because he really does like Shen Qingqiu and even if that first date was his sister's idea he's found he really does enjoy spending time with Shen Qingqiu, and also Shen Qingqiu's sticky first disciple who despite the crocodile tears is actually clearly pretty strong. He has no idea that Shen Qingqiu is silently picking out drapery for the future house while Luo Binghe tries to rationalize his out of control heartbeat as a completely normal side effect of the sparring match they just fought (Which he only keeps challenging Liu-shishu to make sure he's strong enough to protect Shizun! He swears!).

WIll the three of them ever figure it out and get their act together? Sure. Will they do it before the Conference/Abyss arc upends everything? Absolutely not.

[0798f]

💞 — Secret Banter.

RELATIONSHIP: Ootori Kyoya x Reader

SUMMARY: Somehow, discovering a disheveled Kyoya in a commoner mall was only the second strangest thing Haruhi found out that day. Your existence took the number one spot.

A/N: I love secret relationship trope so much... Tell me Kyoya wouldn't keep his relationship under wraps.

This was far from the worst day Kyoya has ever had, but. Well. Today was not making it into the top 10 of best days for sure.

He was dragged to a labyrinth in his sleep and then subsequently abandoned by his friends. In a terrible outfit, no less. Kyoya wasn’t sure if he was relieved to have Haruhi rescue him or if he was mortified that she had to see him in this state.

Haruhi wasn’t sure either. She was in awe watching Kyoya eat a burger— it was like entering an alternate timeline. Compared to the rest of the host club, Kyoya was always more knowledgeable on the lives of commoners, but in a superficial way. He knew statistics and basic facts about regular people like a child knew facts about dinosaurs. Without Haruhi, Kyoya was as disconnected from the real world as everyone else at Ouran.

“… Kyoya?” The pair looked up at the voice calling Kyoya’s name. For a second Haruhi thought someone from the host club finally came back to look for their missing parent, but the person standing in front of them was a stranger to Haruhi. They had a bag of groceries and a confused expression. An utterly normal person.

The strangest part was that Kyoya clearly recognized this person. “(Name)?” His eyes reflected the same confused expression that the bystander had.

“Why… are you dressed like that?”

Now Kyoya was sure that mortification was the strongest emotion he felt today.

“Kyoya-senpai, you know this person?” Haruhi tried to figure out what kind of person would be shopping for groceries at a commoner’s mall but also be acquainted with the shadow prince of the host club. Related to the owner of the mall? No, that was too small scale for the level of high society that Ouran students dealt with. Them being related to the CEO that owns every mall chain across Japan was more likely.

He hesitated to answer, gaze lingering on the person in front of them. Kyoya carefully put down his burger before pushing up his glasses and stating matter-o-factly, “yes. Haruhi, this is my partner, (Name). (Name), this is the Haruhi Fujioka I told you about.”

Haruhi blinked. Partner? She went through her known information about Kyoya, which admittedly wasn’t a lot, but nothing pointed to him having a partner. Especially not a commoner! But the living proof was standing right next to their table and Haruhi was miffed, to say the least. “Partner?! Kyoya-senpai, you have a partner?!”

“Must you sound so shocked?” Kyoya retorted, and there was some earnesty in his otherwise sarcastic remark. It wasn’t like she ever asked him if he had a partner. Everyone just assumed he didn’t.

(Name) bowed following the introduction. “Fujioka-san,” they smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to meet you.”

They really were a normal person. Dressed in plain clothes and unassuming. And polite. Haruhi realized early on at her transfer to Ouran that polite was rarely a word to describe the children of the wealthy and elite. Haruhi stood up to bow in return. “It’s nice to meet you too, (Name)-san. Sorry, I hope my reaction wasn’t rude. I had no idea Kyoya-senpai had a partner. Do you want to sit with us?”

Before (Name) had a chance to respond, Kyoya already grabbed a chair from an empty table and pulled it over. One exchanged glance with Kyoya was all it took to get (Name) to sit down. “Don’t worry about it, Fujioka-san. Kyoya doesn’t really tell people about me.”

“Please clarify that it is a mutual decision to keep our relationship private,” Kyoya sighed.

(Name) laughed. “Sorry, I was teasing.”

“No one knows? Also, you can call me Haruhi. Please don’t feel the need to be formal!” Haruhi was trying to figure out how to phrase questions that wouldn’t immediately get shut down by Kyoya. How did you meet, how long have you been together, how is your partner a commoner?

“Well, Tamaki-san knows. He found out after—“

Again, Kyoya was quick to interrupt. “Please don’t explain that story. It’s embarrassing.”

“I didn’t know you were worried about shame. Could’ve fooled me with that outfit of yours and your peculiar new hangout spot!” (Name) grinned, and Haruhi found herself in awe for the second time that day. She was used to Kyoya always having a witty remark ready for when one of the club members decided to yell at him, but (Name) might be his equal in that regard. Not only could they banter with Kyoya— Kyoya seemed to enjoy it. He had an unbeatable poker face but Haruhi definitely noticed the corners of his lips curling upwards as he looked at (Name). There was a softness in place of his usual cunning.

Haruhi leaned back in her chair, pleasantly entertained by the pair in front of her. “I guess it makes plenty of sense for Kyoya-senpai to have a private relationship. But, doesn’t that mean you don’t have a lot of time to spend with each other?”

“Oh, sure. I wouldn’t call it ideal. But, Kyoya is married to his job, y’know? I couldn’t take that away from him.”

That time, Kyoya pinched (Name)’s cheek in retaliation. “You’re making me sound like a bad partner. Yes, we don’t spend as much time together as the average couple, but we always make time for each other.”

“Have I ever told you that you look uncomfortable when you explain our relationship to other people?” Kyoya pulled on their cheek. “Agh! Let go!”

Kyoya complied with the request, but not before pressing a light kiss to the cheek he just bullied. He was a host, after all. He knew how to treat someone right. His regular customers would probably be furious to know that he was so chaste on physical affection because it was reserved for his dear partner.

(Name) wasn’t wrong about Kyoya being uncomfortable. He knew how to play the role of a host, but having to be honest about something real, in public, was a different ballpark entirely. But the fact that he was in a space where no one knew who he was or what his status was served to be quite freeing. The usual pressure on his shoulders of being an Ootori was alleviated for once, so he locked hands with (Name) over the table.

It was Haruhi’s turn to be cunning since she would never be afforded this opportunity against Kyoya again. “Kyoya-senpai has been so grumpy today,” Haruhi started. “But he relaxed as soon as you arrived, (Name)-san. He’s really fond of you.”

If (Name) wasn’t here, Kyoya would’ve probably found a way to twist Haruhi’s comment into more debt for her to pay off. But (Name)’s eyes lit up, so Kyoya let Haruhi get away with it this time.

“You’re really good at reading him, Haruhi-san! I may be teasing a lot, but he’s really a great guy. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.” (Name) talked about Kyoya like he was the most precious thing on the planet. For (Name), Kyoya wasn’t just the third Ootori son. He wasn’t burdened with the harshest expectations. All he had to do was be good to them and sometimes Kyoya wished he lived in a world where that was the only thing he ever had to be worried about in his life.

But, right then, in a commoner mall Kyoya had no familiarity with, it was like living that alternate life. So Kyoya allowed himself to smile at (Name) and take in the praise.

“Neither could I.”

masterlists.

[jacaerysgf]

The lady of Volantis | 1k celebration

Summary: Based on a request; You have been betrothed to Jacaerys for years now and you two have never exactly been close. He does not expect to see you anytime soon after your first couple meetings, but when Lucerys trial is happening you are suddenly in the keep. What are you doing there? Are you to be trusted?

w.c: 22.3k (i know... crazy right)

c.w: i will not include any bc they would include major spoilers for this fic,, all ill say is this includes things about Volantis culture, an alternative timeline, inaccurate westerios history, COLD READER and smut (a fair share of it). nothing too dark bc that's just not my style but be warned.

Jacaerys has been betrothed for years now. He has only seen the mysterious lady of volantis a couple times now. When her father answered lord corlys call for help with the stepstones with the terms that corlys offer them something in return. They knew they had nothing that could be even close in value to the mighty powers of volantis but in a desperate effort they offer him, Prince Jacaerys velaryon, heir to the heir. They expect volantis to say no, what good would having good relations with Westeros do, they have control of the largest trades and market in the world.

After no response for a good while they expect them to just have disregarded the letter and have given up. But when one day over 20 sea ships show up the flags of volantis on them and a young girl trails behind her father who introduces himself as the man they were writing to they were over the moon. They had only really got to meet the girl one time before she went off to join the effort in stepstones though she did pop by a few times they were few and far between. Her father had warned them his daughter was a bit cold. He gave no reason as to why she was the way she was other than that was just how she was raised to be.

Jacaerys attempted to play nice with his betrothed but due to her cold, off putting personality nothing truly came from it. Instead all she would do was stand and watch him, barely saying more than a few words to him. Every time was the same routine, she would come and leave, leaving jacaerys to worry for the future. He is well aware most marriages don’t contain any love, but he had atleast hoped the two of them could be friends but it seemed like the lady of Volantis wanted nothing to do with him. He had not expected to see her for many years in the future, For their marriage arrangement is not meant to take place until after rhaenyra ascends the throne.

“it is an honor to see you.” The girl nods, still an ever blank look on her face as she grips a square wooden box in her hand. The queen glances at rhaenyra and daemon who manage to hide their shock at seeing the girl in the keep. “It is a nice surprise to see you again y/n.” Another acknowledging nod is the only thing the younger women does before thrusting her hands that were holding the wooden box towards the queen. Alicent looks at it in shock and hesitantly reaches her hands out and grabs in from her. “A gift.”

Shaky hands slide open the box and a light gasp follows suit. A completely custom cyvasse set sets inside the box, alicents hand reach inside and pick up one of the pieces, the dragon, and brings it closer to her face to admire it. “Hand carved and painted.” She looks back towards the younger girl. Her heart warmed at the gesture. Nobody had gotten her a gift so nice, ever. “This is so lovely.” “I had heard you enjoyed to play.” A small real smile graces alicents face as she lightly nods, “Do you enjoy to play?” “You are asking if a citizen of Volantis enjoys playing cyvasse.”

It was not a question, as volantis was the origin place of cyvasse it should be no question she a member of one of the royal families of volantis would play. Embarrassment fills alicent and she places the piece back in the box swiftly, closing it up and turning away placing it on a table. “Of course my apologizes i have no clue what i was thinking.” She maybe expects some sly comment from the girl or maybe no response at all, maybe her scoffing or tsking but instead when she looks back over she sees the girl bring her head towards the ground and twist her foot as if she was squishing a bug. “I was jesting…”

A simple ahh is all that can escape alicents mouth as she looks away bashfully. She hadn't expected her to be so, kind? maybe that was not the right word and it certainly did not fit the look of the warrior that stood in front of her. Laced in black leather covering even up to her neck down to the soles of her feet. The only color added from the silver chains wrapped around her legs attached to the belt loops on her waist, a sword at her hip so close to her hands she could whip it out in mere seconds, her boots look so heavy like she could squish someone’s skull should she want to.

"ziry iksos unexpected naejot ūndegon ao.” (it is unexpected to see you) A voice cuts through the rooms now awkward air and Alicent just watched as the girls head rises and she's back to standing sharply and coldly as she was mere moments ago. "Skoros issi ao doing kesīr hāedar?” (what are you doing here girl?)

“Iksos ziry pirta hen issa naejot māzigon.” (is it wrong of me to come.) Alicent, though she had no clue what they we’re saying, had never seen someone speak and look at the rouge prince so bravely. If any man we’re in her place they certainly would not even be looking him in the eyes but you do not look at him with fear, if anything you just look at him with annoyance straightening your shoulders and you fold your hands behind you back.

“Skorkydoso gōntan ao gīmigon naejot māzigon?” (how did you know to come?) rhaenyra by his side pinches his torso and tries to shoot him a look but his gaze is locked onto you. All the girl does is shrug and turns her attention back to alicent. Daemon is not dumb. He knows this is all timed too well, arriving to the keep the exact day they arrived here. She must have begun her trip way before they had even received word of the trial. He stares daggers into her but she does not look back towards him, rolling her her neck as alicent attempted to come up with something to say.

“I believe i should attend to some things.” With a bow of her head and a goodbye she grabs the box from the table and before she opens the door she turns back to the younger girl, “We should play.” She does not expect a response from the girl, so when you nods a delighted look graces her face before she turns and leaves. Right as the door closes her face falls as she's greeted by a squire who was sent by her father to grab her, most likely interested in speaking about the volantene girl.

The three stand in silence for a bit. Daemons gaze has no let up and rhaenyra readjusts awkwardly. Despite the fact that she does not wish for him to question her so she has her own curiosities. “I hope you faired well on your trip, you must have been traveling for a long time.” The implications of her words are clear, if the volantene girl is annoyed she does not show it on her face instead she merely blinks a nods. “It was well.” “We have not heard from you since last year, we are merely surprised to see you now of all times.” “i was on my way to visit dragonstone, heard talks of you all traveling here. i came here instead.” You say nothing that is not necessary, no sweet talk no sugar coating just exactly what you are asking no more. Its a believable story if it is to be true, but daemon is still clearly restless. “And what would bring you to dragonstone?”

“I was planned to return back to the fight but i heard what happened to lord corlys, wanted to make a stop at dragonstone before driftmark.” Despite your young age you were more than useful to the effort. You and corlys had even formed a bond, you grew to care for the man and when you left the field for personal affairs you were horrified to hear of his condition. “Have you spoken to rhaenys?” “i am yet to see her.”

Suddenly a guard comes into the room and looks at daemon and rhaenyra. “the king is ready to see you.” The two stand and say their goodbyes to you before they leave. Out in the hallway they discuss to themselves. “Gaomagon ao pendagon issa…?” (Do you think she is..?) Daemon does not look to rhaenyra instead keeping his gaze forward, eyes glazed in though as he clenches his jaw. “daor.” (no) She would not come for no reason. The girl he knew would immediately return back to the battlefield after hearing of corlys absence. It is rather strange for her to instead make the trip here instead.

In another room sits alicent, otto and Vaemond discussing tomorrows trial. “It does not matter if the next heir to driftmark is indebted to us. Not when Rhaenyra's first born son is about to marry into the most powerful family in all of Essos.” Ottos voice cuts Vaemond off quickly. “There is something that can be done.” The two of them look at alicent, “She holds a distain for them i can see it, there is no question. Maybe she can be convinced to,” she trails off looking away, “depart from the betrothal?” “If there was a greater thing she could be offer, im more than sure she would agree.”

“It is a bad idea.” Otto cuts, “If your theory is wrong then you could put all of us at risk.” He shakes his head, “I do not approve.” “I believe it is worth a shot.” Vaemond adds looking to alicent, “She is a tigress, she is easily swayed. They are all the same they wish for war, it is the reason why she is out on the field with my brother. She has no conquest anymore in Volantis.” Vaemond leans forward on the table and looks alicent directly in the eyes, “If there is to be a war. You will not win it with her on their side.”

The sun had finally begun to set but there was no rest for the dark haired prince who stood in the keep library, a maester on the other side of the table watching the young prince struggle to recite the valyrian. “Rūsīr māzigon kustikāne se…” (with hardships come strength and…) He bites his thumb and taps his foot as he thinks. He is sure he remembers the phrase, jacaerys mentally berates himself for being so stupid. He is to be the future king, the heir of the heir, how can he let himself be so careless with his studies. “kivio.” (promise)

The voice behind him causes him to turn around in shock.“syt konīr iksis daor drēje mijegon.” (for there is no true struggle without triumph) Soon enough you are standing in front of him and he gulps. He cannot believe you are here, not expecting to see you for many years from now. He puts a smile on his face all be it a weak one as you just stare at him. “gaomagon ao lo mazeman toliot?” (do you mind if i take over) You address the maester behind him who looks between the two of you nervously before nodding and leaving the room.

The two of you just stare at one another in silence for a bit. He takes this time to admire you, you have not changed much since the last time he saw you. It had been at least a year now since you've visited dragonstone and when he got to see you. Even when you did meet you certainly never met this close anyways he takes this time to admire you fully.

The blemishes on your face, if he looks towards your covered neck he can even see a scar the fades under the fabric, he's curious about it, how did you get it? Did it hurt? When did you get it? He wishes he could ask, too fearful of your reply. He cannot mess this arrangement up. It matters too much to not only his family, but to the safety of the realm and the safety of his mothers claim to the throne. No one would dare mess with the power of volantis and the free cities, he would never be able to forgive himself if he messed up what his family worked so hard to get. Especially since it seemed like you did not care for him much.

“You are still a toddler.” You are the one to break the silent are between them. He flushes with embarrassment and takes a step back, hitting the table lightly. “You’ve merely caught me at a bad moment.” You raise your eyebrows at him, a challenging look. He knows you do not believe him, “You lie to me.” He scratches the back of his neck, You're right. “I would never, my betrothed.” He is embarrassed and he hopes by playing the engagement card you will leave, as you seemingly have no interest in it, so he can wallow in his own humiliation alone. She just stares at him while he cracks a smile at her. He wants them to be civil, for her to atleast like him, he fears that won’t be the case. He sees how happy his mother and daemon are and he feels a pit of dread in his stomach, he wants a life like that. He knows it is rare for marriages in his life to be happy ones but he wants it.

Instead of leaving you simply stare at him for a moment longer, he notices a change in your eyes if it was for a split second before you round the table and eye the book on the table. “it is because you are trying to learn from that stupid book.” “It is a book of the Targaryen history.” She picks up the book and sharply closes it before he can stop stop her, his hand lift hanging in the air as she tosses the book away. “Exactly. Stupid book.” He opens and closes his mouth in an attempt to come up with a retort but he can’t say anything before you speak once more. “lets roleplay.”

If anyone saw you right now they would feel as though they were seeing a stranger. If he were to ask anyone else they would say they’ve never heard you speak as much as you were or even the look on your face, though it does not look too different from your normal one, was an unfamiliar one. He raises his eyebrows at you, “what?” “the best way to learn anything is to practice.” “which is why i was reading from the book.” “The book is nonsense. you will learn nothing from it.” “It is how my mother was taught and my ancestors before me.” “Then they are stupid.” He groans in frustration and looks at her with a blank face. “You do not learn swordsmanship from reading you do not learn how to stitch from reading you learn from real experience.” He cannot say you are wrong.

As he says nothing you continue, “Lets say i am a jewelry shop keeper, and you are a traveler visiting my shop interested in buying something.” she presses her hands against the table and tilts her head at him. “sȳz?” (good?) a chill runs down his spine as she stares at him and a warm feeling fills his stomach. He is so screwed, but he just nods.

“rytsas skorkydoso glaesā tubī?” (hello welcome how are you today?)

“Iksan sȳrī kirimvose” (I am well thank you)

“iksis konīr mirros iksā jurnegēre syt?” (is there something you are looking for?)

You watch him struggle for a moment, unsure if he is trying to decipher your words or if he is trying to figure out what to say. He is shocked you are so patient, simply staring and watching him, not pushing him to answer.

“iā rudhy syt ñuha aderī naejot sagon ābrazȳrys.” (a present for my soon to be wife)

He watches your face change for a split second to one of shock then back down to neutral. With his confidence he takes a moment to admire your gloved hands, covered with rings over the leather. He imagines them running down his chest, running through his hair, maybe gripping on it as he pleasures you in ways hes only ever read about, maybe even wrapped around his-

You snap in his face and his head lifts back to look at you alarmed but your just looking at him blankly. “umbagon lēda nyke.” (stay with me) He would. He will. For as long as you asked him too. You sigh and roll your neck he watches the scar as it shows more of itself before disappearing once more. He shakes his head, he needs to snap out of it, he was being foolish getting lost in his thoughts, and especially since his thoughts were so,,, deplorable. He is thankful you cannot read minds as you would surely slap him across the face and never speak to him again if you knew he was thinking so terribly.

“gaomagon emā mirros qantre jaelā?” (do you have something specific you want?)

you.

“Nyke jaelagon nyke gōntan yn eman daor skoros ziry would hae.” (i wish i did but i have no clue what she would like)

She pauses for a moment and stares at him with narrow eyes. When he says nothing other than shrug she rolls her eyes, turning her head away.

“ābrar hae mirros” (women like anything)

“jaelan naejot jiōragon mirros ziry jorrāelagon” (i want to get something she would love)

“ivestragon nyke nūmāzma zirȳla pār.” (tell me about her then)

“gaoman daor gīmigon olvie yn nyke gīmigon issa kostōba se pazavor, se rovaja run naejot nyke iksis bona issa biare.” (i do not know much but i know she is strong and loyal, the biggest thing to me is that she is happy)

The air between them gets hot and he cant decipher the look in her eyes as she stares at him. He fears he’s upset her. The way her eyes and face remain unmoving or maybe he said the words wrong and she’s misinterpreting what he meant. His eyes stay locked on hers as she trails around the table to be standing right next to him once more. he opens his mouth to apologize but she begins to speak before he can say a word. “gaomagon daor tepagon qrīdrughagon aōha dōna udra sīr easily syt naejot qūvy ilagon se qēlossās se se jēdar syt ao”

His eyes crinkle and she has a content look on her face, seemingly happy he has no clue what she is saying to him. “what did you say?” Its eating at him. unlike when he hears his parents speak he does not mind much when he doesn’t know what they're talking about. even when lucerys is doing better in practice than him he does not mind it much though he grows annoyed at himself. But with you, he needs to know what you’re saying. He is latched onto your every word your every move. It makes himself sick to think about the fact he’s missed something you’ve said with the limited words you ever say. He’s shocked you’ve even talked to him this much today.

She just shakes her head and takes a few steps back. Her stoic nature has returned and she's back to not even looking at him. “It is getting late. You should have dinner.” He looks out the window and is shocked to see the had set and it had begun to rain outside. When did the sun even set? We’re they truly here for so long? He turned back to question her but she was already gone and the book placed back in front of him. The only reason he knows she was ever even here is the faint smell of her perfume in the air. Like a ghost she had up and left. Maybe she was a ghost, or merely a figment of his imagination to toy with him. He takes a couple deep breaths until the lingering smell of her is gone before he picks back up the book and leaves.

He clutches the book tightly to his chest to suppress the pounding of his heart and the ache that begins to bleed through his skin. He tries to mumble what she said to himself to try and figure out what you meant. Hes able to catch a few words, stars and the sky but he cant make sense of it all. he clenches his jaw in frustration as he returns to his chambers, placing the book down on his table and gripping the sides of it with his hands. This must be a challenge from her. She’s clearly toying with him. Maybe she did truly dislike him. But then why would she help him today? or can you even call it help? she didn’t exactly teach him anything. he grows irritated at the thought that his afternoon was wasted but then he realizes something. He had no clue he himself could even say or understand any of those words until she proved to him that he could.

Before he can even dwell on it he’s being called for dinner. On his way there he wonders if you’ll join them. His hopes are crushed when he walks in the room and you aren’t there. Greeting his parents quickly before greeting baela for the first time, the two share a friendly hug before sitting. “Did you know lady y/n is here jacaerys?” He almost gets whiplash from the way his head whips up to look at daemon. “yes i got the chance to see her earlier.” He hopes he does not seem too quick with his response. He takes a sip of his wine as daemon taps his fingers on the table in thought. He can never tell what daemon is thinking, though he doubts even his mother can tell what he’s thinking. “i am yet to meet her i am looking forward to it.” Baela turns to jacaerys, “Do you like her?”

Now this question really makes him pause. He has no clue. He is sure he does, in some way, but he barely knows her. Maybe that does not matter, especially in their political situation. It is purely a political marriage he does not need to like her. But he does, maybe it stems from him not wanting to disappoint his mother but he likes her, he wants things to work with her. but a man who is simply doing this just to keep his mother happy would not write her letters while she was out fighting even when he would not receive a response, he would not be overthinking what gifts to give her because sure he could go out and get her the most expensive gem in the world or the most finest silk but she is not the type of lady to like that type of stuff and this man would be imagining her underneath him withering with pleasure. Well, maybe they are but not a man like him.

“She is pleasant.”

The raging storm outside leads most of the hallways empty as people try to remain dry. but solely in one hallway sits a girl sitting with her thighs clenched tightly to keep the torch she has lit ablaze steady as her hands cup in a prayer. Its dead quiet expect for the storm outside and the quiet mutters leaving her lips, until footsteps walk down the hall and the spot next to her grows warm with a body sitting there.

“Lord of Light, shine your face upon us.” the person next to you says nothing as you continue in your prayer. “Light your flame among us, R'hllor. Show us the truth or falseness of this man. Strike him down if he is guilty, and give strength to his sword if he is true. Lord of Light, give us wisdom.” “For the night is dark and full of terrors” the person next to you finishes. A long looming silence hangs in the air as you do not dare move your position. “Are you going to say anything?”

“I thought you were praying.” You finally look up at the women besides you who gives you a curious look. “Is it impolite that i i finished it for you?” “No it is preferred, lady rhaenys.” “have you always been a follower of the lord of light?” “I have been visiting the temple of the lord of light before i could even walk, it would be strange if i were not.” She hums and simply stares at the storm. “it is rather cold, do you not fear of getting sick?”

“i have been through worse weather at stepstones.” There are a few more beats of silence, it is so quiet you are even convinced for a moment she will not say anything else but she begins to speak after awhile. “What would my husband think of all this?” You turn to rhaenys and tilt your head. Rhaenys laughs and shakes her head, “You are the first person i am speaking to that has had a close direct contact with my husband for the last couple years, i wish to know what you think he would say.” You do not say anything for a long moment, your gaze being stuck on the flames still sat in your lap. “I think he would say you are all absurd for thinking he is going to die from this.” Rhaenys snorts but says nothing as she waits for your next words. “But he would not want his brother to succeed him.” It is not as though she is shocked to hear the answer. Especially when it was something she already knew herself.

“why do you think so?” She wants to know why, no she needs to. Just to clear her head maybe, give her some justice in her choice, rhaenyra's offer about marrying rhaena to lucerys still looming over her head. “because his brother is a fool.” She has no clue whether they are his words or hers but it does matter much as in a funny way she seems content with the answer. or maybe she was already content with her choice and needed the extra push.

She watches as the girl stares into the flames aimlessly. “can you see things in them?” “that is the priestess job not mine. Though i can see flashes. i am no were near skilled enough to make anything of it.” “it is a shocker to hear you admit you are not skilled enough at something.” “I am honest.” she nods though you don’t look in her direction. “What do you see?” “Myself mostly. sometimes he is with me.” “who?” There is no answer from the girl which causses rhaenys to sit up straight. “Jacaerys?” A light hum is the only answer she is given but it is all she needs before she lets out a surprised scoff. “i thought you hated the man.” You rip your gaze away form the flames and look at her with a confused look. “i hate him?” “that’s what everyone says dear.” rhaenys looks at her.

“Do you not hate him?” she looks away and stares back into the flames, her face now solemn and she watches the flame slowly wither away to nothing. No more words are said between the two of them but they don’t need to be as rhaenys gets up. “i bid you goodnight.” Even if you wanted to reply you are not given the opportunity to as she quickly turns away from you and leaves. You are once again left alone but this time you cannot distract yourself with prayers. You lean your head back against the cold wall behind you, hoping to let your mind be flooded with mindless water like the grounds are outside.

You cannot fail this. For there is far too much at risk. The words of the priestesses ring in your ears. This is too important. the gnawing feeling in your chest grows as you think of him. Failure is not an option. As much as you wish you could sit and wallow here for the night in your thoughts there are still things you must get done. Still people you must talk to. Maybe you should go to sleep earlier for tomorrow will make or break everything. But you know thats not an option. You get up for the first time in two hours and head towards the opposite direction of your room, for there is something you must do first.

Dinner has finally ended and jacaerys is more then eager to go to his room and take a nice hot bath before he goes to bed but he is instead walking lucerys to his room who looks like he’s gonna throw up. “I am nervous.” Jacaerys sighs and grabs his shoulders making lucerys look straight at him. “It shall be fine brother. Mother will take care of it.” Lucerys looks at the floor, “So i am making it difficult for her.” “No. family is about taking care of one another. It may be tough but it is worth it. because we are family.” Lucerys take a deep breath and opens his mouth as though he wishes to say something but he simply shakes his head before whispering a goodnight and closing his door.

Jacaerys lets out a shudder and closes his eyes for a moment. He feels bad he cannot do more for lucerys. He cannot truly reassure him everything will be alright because in his mind and how his parents talk of the hightowers he is convinced tomorrow will not work on in their favor. He stands in his spot for far too long, His mind far away from his body, He does not know what will happen and that scares him. What does happen if driftmark is taken from lucerys? What happens to his mothers claim? He feels as though this is his fault though the more rational side of him tells him this was something completely out of his hands.

He knows what he is. it is no secret. He knew. But there is nothing he can do about it. He must live with it. It does not matter what anyone else thinks. He runs his now sweaty hands down the front of his tunic before turning and walking away from lucerys room. He cannot stress about this now or else he will not be able to sleep. He is not paying attention in front of him so when hands press on his chest to prevent him from moving he gasps and takes a step back. “My lady.” He feels like he’s imagining you. Maybe he thought about you a bit too much he’s starting to see things. You just blankly stare at with your eyebrow raised. His stress must be showing on his face. he sighs and runs his hands down his face. “I apologize i was lost in thought.”

He had thought you were waiting around for him to apologize to you. “you should not be upset. what is it now.” He grows irradiated. His face turns anger and his blood begins to boil. You were mocking him. it is the way you say it, the monotone voice you hold makes his skin itch. The cherry on top is the fact that you roll your eyes. His jaw clenches and begins to speak through his teeth. “i am sorry i am not allowed to be upset my lady. I know you hold your own anguishes against me but please save it for another day. Goodnight.”

He swiftly moves around you and does not look back as he storms off to his room. He cannot believe himself. Deluding himself into thinking the two of you could even be civil. You don’t like him. That much is clear to him now. He does not notice the fact that you have not moved a single step. There is no noise in the hallway it is as if you are not even breathing. For the first time all day you truly let you face fall. Fingers twitching at you side as if you wished to reach your hand out and grab him but he is already to far away. You have messed it up. of course.

You don’t know how long you’re standing there until a hand touches your shoulder and you turn your head. “Are you alright?” You immediately straighten back up and no one would have even known you we’re frowning before now that your face has been set back to neutral. “I am alright my queen.” “Are you lost?” No. “Yes. I seemingly have lost my way.” She offers to walk you and you finally fully get a good look at her. She is in her nightdress and you eye the box you had given her earlier in her hands. She notices your gaze and perks up. “ah in truth i had actually head to your room to look for you. It is late but, are you up for a game?”

Jacaerys attempts to contain his anger as he asks for the coldest bath he can have that night. They do not question him as they see him furiously unbutton and tear at his clothes. He does not even hiss as he enters the tub. His blood still boiling hot and the cold bath does nothing to soothe him. “You are dismissed.” “But my prince-” “I am capable of cleaning myself.” The servant bows before stating he will leave his night clothes on his bed before he swiftly leaves. For the first time today he is alone with his thoughts for the first time today. he leans down and submerges himself low enough in the water until his nose is just barely above the water.

He is sure the water is warming up quickly because of how hot his skin is right now. He does not even know why he is so annoyed. He does not know you. You do not know him. Maybe he is annoyed at himself for attempting to put in an effort that is not going anyway, maybe it is due to the fact that he is going to be stuck with you for the rest of his life. He doesn’t know. Maybe he is annoyed that he is so enthralled by you. Were you always so inconsiderate? He should have known, gods you never even answered his letters or even so much as tried to speak to him before today.

The stress of lucerys trial and his annoyance with you all builds and all he can feel is a pure ache. Throbbing and aching and throbbing. Fuck when did he get hard? He stares down at his errection with furrowed brows. His hot blood boiled until it all spilled down to his cock he guessed. He throws his head back in anger. Maybe he should just ignore it. He should call a servant in and ask him to throw as much ice as he can possibly take into the tub.

Or maybe he just needs a good stress relief. He is a man and tomorrow will certain be a tough day and he will be overthinking. Maybe he just need to get it out now? He sits all the way up and eyes his throbbing dick angerly. He rarely does this. His sex drive is not high enough where he gets hard everyday but every once and awhile a guy has to relieve himself. He leans his head back to lay against the edge of the tub and closes his eyes. hands sliding down his chest before they settle on his balls. He lets out a sigh of relief as he fondles them lightly in his hands, his thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive skin.

Suddenly the smell of a familiar perfume fills the air. His movements do not halt but his pleasure is increased when it begins to feel like a second set of hands lay over his, adding harder pleasure to his thumbs. He lets out a couple puffs of air and its almost as if he can feel the another hot breath drifting onto his face. His eyes flutter open slowly and he sees you. Staring at him how you were in the library and he whines, “please… y/n.” As if he is high on your smell he feels as though his hands are being guided by yours, they slide from the base of his dick to the tip causing him to curse and clench his jaw as his thumbs are instead pressed against his tip, rubbing in small circles.

He presses his lips together tightly to stop himself from letting out a loud moan. He wants to bring one of his hands up to his mouth to silence himself but it feels like their stuck where they are. Your hands holding his down tightly. “Jacaerys.” He can hear you, smell you, feel you. Its as if your hands have switched and he can feel the harsh leather your hands are covered with. “Please y/n i cant take it please.” Finally sliding down from his tip and down back to the base, it slides back up slowly, her pointer finger is tracing along one of the veins, this continues like a slow painful torture until each and every single vein has been drawn and pressed against the skin, Jacaerys does not know how loud he is, with every groan, hiccup, mumble and moan he can’t even be worried he’s getting louder and is instead completely and utterly consumed by you.

“y/n do not tease me please, please.” The hands suddenly begin to move faster and he throws his head so far back its basically outside the tub. His cock so painfully sensitive from the teasing he feels like he might burst any moment. But he needs something else, something more. Suddenly it's like he can feel your ghost lips kissing along his jaw, slowly working towards his ear, giving it a long lick and he shudders, “Jace.” He cannot take it, his balls begin to ache and he can feel an overwhelming pressure build in his stomach. “I need you y/n” Suddenly a long lick on his collarbone is what has him shaking and moaning out your name while white webs flood into the now very very very dirty bath water.

The only sounds that can be heard now are the light swaying of water and his deep heaving breaths. After many moments he finally lifts his head and slowly opens his eyes, blinking slowly he sees no one in front of him. Of course it was not real. he lifts up his hands and feels how his arms and hands ache from how long he was working himself and there is no smell of you in the room. For a moment he is disappointed until clarity hits him and he's suddenly very quickly standing up, well as best as he can his legs begin to rapidly shake and he hisses as his dick is met with the cold air of the room severely overstimulated.

What had he done? It was a one time thing. It was merely his mind running amok. Yes that's it. He dries himself quickly and attempts to suppress down any thoughts he has. All of them. all he wants to do is slip into bed and fall asleep, acting like today never happened. If he was lucky she wouldn’t be at the trial. Maybe she would head to stepstones tomorrow and they would go back to being strangers until they must marry. Maybe she would die in the war, he ignores how much his chest aches at that, and they would never see each other ever again. He just wants to rid of himself of all his thoughts. He tosses and turns in bed, sleep alludes him, or maybe its his own fears that once he falls asleep he’ll dream of you.

The library you reside in is cold, devoid of all light other than the two candles lighting up the board in front of you and the occasional light from lightning striking outside. “It is rare i meet someone who is good competition.” Alicent is enjoying herself. a small smile on her face as she places down another piece. Aemond is always far too busy to play, Aegon obviously won’t play with her and helaena has no clue how to play. She watches you closely but you face is unmoving, leaning far back into your seat with you arms crossed in your lap all you do is dart your eyes around to look at the board.

When you say nothing in return she is not surprised and says nothing more until you move a piece on the board. “I’d like to ask you about something.” she twists one of the pieces in her hands, eyes flying back between the board and to you. You make no noise or even so much as look up at her like she takes this as her queue to continue. “What are your thoughts on your betrothal?” Though it only happens for a split second she catches it, You tense.

She believes she is right. You are unhappy with your betrothal. She watches as you stare at your dragon on the board, lifting on of your hands to twist it to face you. “It is a fine match.” She hums and nods, “agreed.” Though for the first time you look at her and raise your eyebrows at her. you know there's something more to this. She feels a chill run down her spine as you don’t take your eyes off her while she's moving another one of her pieces on the board. “I hope this does not offend you, however i am truly just curious, is there anything keeping you in this engagement?”

Your gaze does not waver nor do you move to move one of your pieces and she begins to pick at her nails, a pit forming in her stomach. “I do not understand.” “It is simply curiosity. and if you would stay, if there was no longer any political benefit?” Your gaze does not stray as you pick up a piece and place it on the board. “No more political benefit?” You trail off for a moment, she expects you to say there would be no point then or maybe something along those lines. “What political benefit is there for me now?” Alicent freezes and looks at you confused, “What?” You shrug and fiddle around with some of your pieces on the board. “Am i supposed to be getting something out of it?”

All alicent can do this blink. What did you mean? Were you trying to mock her? What did you mean what benefit were you getting? “Your future husband is to be king one day….” She watches as you scratch your jaw and move one of your pieces. “Ahh,,,,, I guess you’re right.” She looks down at the board, she sees the clear path in front of her and tries to suppress her smile, maybe you were not as good at this as she had though, purposefully taking longer to continue to speak to you.

“It would be better if a marriage had benefits i suppose, so no?” Alicent picks up one of her pieces and places it down. Maybe this is her opportunity, there is a small voice in the back of her head telling her this was a bad idea, it was her fathers voice, but she must try no matter what he says. She could be in danger or even worse children could be in danger.

She knows how dangerous and cruel the people of Volantis are. If there truly is to be a war if she does not gain her as an ally they are doomed. and worse they would be fighting against her family, so the punishment and pain she would inflict would be far worse. It would be treason.

“So, would you consider another option, should you be presented one?” She sees the look on your face and panics a bit but manages to remain calm, “Purely hypothetical of course.” “Like what?” “Say if i told you my son aemond remains unmarried.” “A second son compared to a future king? A ridiculous proposition.” For someone who just seemed to have no interest in the political side of things your attitude sure has changed.

“but what if he was not just a second son, but the prince regent to the king” You just blink. you would be blind to not get what she was referring. she fears you will confront her, ask her what she means by her implications, but she is good to remember you are not that type of person. “a prince regent is still not a king.”

“but what if your first daughter would be promised to the next king, your line on the throne after you.” more blinking. She doesn't know what you’re thinking, your face as blank as it always it. “simply just something to think about of course. If tomorrows trial goes well, maybe there could be something.” She begins to sweat under your blank stare. Maybe her father was right, this was a bad idea. You are going to declare war on her and her family for treason. But you say nothing at all for a good while. She decided against opening her mouth again in fear of ruining it more than she already has.

But you make do not open your mouth to speak, instead you just push yourself to stand up and her heart drops but you just place one of your pieces before snatching her dragon and placing it on her side of the board. “I shall think about it. Goodnight.” She simply watches as you leave the room before looking at the board in shock.

you had won.

He’s kissing you. All over your hot skin. Occasionally leaving a trail of his own saliva when he stays in one sport too long. He makes sure to keep his ear right next to your mouth to hear every little whimper and moan you let out. His hands running up and down your sides, you were wearing a red silk dress, a night gown if he had to guess. but he has no room in his mind to think about it as he slides his hands under your dress kneading your ass with his hands and uses his knees to push open your legs to slot himself between you, lifting up your dress to expose you, you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. His lips are surely going to be sore with the force he’s kissing you.

The two of your hips thrusting each others with fever even through his clothed pants he can feel your wetness soak his trousers and onto his hard cock. His lips leave yours and they begin to suck down your jaw to your neck. His hands sliding up to your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples, feeling as they harden against his skin.

“my prince.” He ignores this at first. continuing his assault on your skin and the rhythm of your hips getting faster. “my prince.” but the voice gets louder and louder and louder until-

“my prince!”

Jacaerys eyes open and he shoots up. He is breathing heavy as if he just ran all the way from the north to dorne. He runs his hands down his face and he looks at his hands with disgust as he feels the amount of sweat.

fuck.

“my prince.”

“What is it?” He is basically snarling. He is furious he was woken up. He can feel his cock throbbing under the blanket as if he was on the brink of climax. The servant shakes at the dragon princes hard glare. “It is morning my prince, we must get you ready for morning fast.” His head whips to look at the window. The sky bright blue contrasting the stormy weather it had been last night. as if the storm had to happen last night for the sky to be blue. He runs his hands down his face and apologizes, “I'm so sorry, i had a bad dream.” the servant merrily nods with a grateful smile on his face before he begins to help jacaerys get ready for the day.

Jacaerys cock throbs under the cold water. “my prince if you need a few moments alone-” “I do not.” he spits out. He certainly cannot do what he did last night. As much as his hands itch to touch himself he knows he would only be greeted with images of you. He cannot allow that. The servant says nothing more for the rest of the morning, his hardness dies down a little through out his routine but he knows once he is alone his mind will begin to race once more.

So he is more than thankful you are not there when he joins his family. Though his mother mentions she had tried to invite you but apparently you were no where to be seen. Seemingly not having gone back to your room last night. He wishes he was relieved, that he were happy you were gone from him and he could not have to see you for a while. but he is not. He must be so annoyed about it even Joffrey asked him why he had such a sour face.

They all assume you have gone to stepstones, not believing you would be interested in staying for the trial. He says nothing in return. A thought pops up into his head. Maybe he had upset you, he had lost his temper with you last night, maybe that is why you had left. He tries not to dwell on it but a pit grows in his stomach, he does not wish to think about you any longer.

He does not expect you to be there. He had thought you left just like the rest of his family. But as his family was being led into the room he sees you already leaning against the wall near where his family was standing. He could see the way the people were looking and whispering about you. This must be the first time for many people in this room seeing her before, even seeing someone from Essos before. You do not seem to care as he expected. He can’t take his eyes off you. Instead of your black leather outfit you were wearing a completely grey leather outfit still paired with your large boots and silver chains. You have a dagger in your hands fiddling around with it not taking your eyes off of it.

He does not like you he is certain of it but then why can he not remove his gaze from you? why does he wish to go over to you and compliment you though he knows your response will be something like a nod? Has he ever even complimented you? He can’t remember. Maybe he wrote something in one of his letters. But why does it matter why should he complement you if you do not even care. Maybe he should do the right thing and go greet you despite his grievances.

Your gaze suddenly lifts and you're looking in his direction so he swiftly turns away to glance at lucerys who look's more nervous than ever. He wishes he could offer lucerys any sort of comfort but he has no clue what to say. It is certainly not because he is using all his willpower to not look at you. He can feel your stare, your burning gaze staring into the side of his face. He does not allow himself to look. he only does when he sees otto sit down on the throne and it is almost as if you were not just looking at him. backing to fiddling with you dagger, was it really your gaze he felt on him? He has no time to truly dwell on it, not when Vaemond begins to speak.

The trial begins without a hitch. Jacaerys find himself growing more and more irritated as the trial goes on. Vaemond’s voice and the backhanded insults Vaemond is insinuating about his mother anger him beyond belief. Daemon places his hand on jacaerys back to attempt to keep the young boy at bay. Daemon looks over at you and sees you spaced out, as if you were not even listening to the trial at hand., neither really was he if he was being truthful, he knew this trial would work on in his favor, whether he would have to pull out drastic measures or not.

“Why don’t we get the lady Maegyr’s opinion?” Daemon chuckles as he watches your head raise and look to Vaemond with your blank stare. “You are sure to know better than anyone else about my brothers wishes.” Every head in the room is turned to look at you now.

Alicent feels herself praying in her mind. You must take their side, they can’t risk you having aligned yourself with the blacks. She glances at otto who looks to her for a beat, she does not miss the awaiting look on his face. She knows he will be furious with her should you not side with them, she looks at you hopeful, praying to the seven, praying to the father the mother anyone who would listen to her.

Jacaerys watches as you push yourself off the wall and walk towards where Vaemond is standing, stopping for a moment to glance at jacaerys. He does not turn away this time, allowing himself to look at you. He is desperate, he worries as he knows your distain for him he fears that will transfer over to your feelings on this whole affair. He has a look of desperation as your gaze does not leave him, please he finds himself begging in his mind. You must defend them, his mother, his brother. Him. His fists clench at his sides and your gaze drops to look at them before you look back up one more time and walk away.

Standing in front of the throne the room is dead quiet, every person in the room eager to here what you have to say, anticipating it.

“I think this whole ordeal is ridiculous.” You stop to glance at alicent who looks at you with wide eyes, you can see her picking at the skin on her nails. You look back at Vaemond and sigh. “worst of all i think you are nothing than a power hunger pig who cares not of his brother nor his family but only of himself.” There's a couple gasps around the room and Vaemond opens his mouth to speak but you are quicker. Daemon feels rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief and places a hand over her chest.

“Dare i ask why you do not campaign for Baela to take driftmark? by westerios succession rules she would be next in line after him if you do truly disregard corlys’ true blooded named heir Lucerys Velaryon. For you are nothing but an old rotting man no kids, no wife yet you believe you are best choice for driftmark? yet not baela who has spent the last couple years of her life on driftmark under her grandmothers wing who, as of right now, is the proper ruler of driftmark and is more suited than you, a lone man who is closer to his own death day than he is to ever sitting on the driftmark seat.”

Vaemond's face turns to anger, his eye twitches at your words and he takes a step closer to you, his voice louder than before, “You dare speak to me like this?” “You say that as if you are someone to be reconned with. I am supposed to fear a second son you dare insult me, maybe that is the reason you remain unwed, for no one wishes to lay with a second son.” Alicent feels her heart drop to her stomach. It does not help that she feels Aegon chuckling at her words next to him. She does not dare look at her father, for she fears his reaction more than anything.

“How dare you?” “How dare i? how dare you? you dare put into question the legitimacy of the princess and even worse the legitimacy of her children. Ser laenor claimed those children as his who are we to question such an act. You? A weak old man who is so bitter and resentful he must campaign in a room full of more ignorant fools who believe this should even be a question in the first place. You should be hung for treason.”

Vaemond finds his body shaking with anger at the girls in front of him with her ever so calm demeaner, her words cold and calculated like she knew exactly what she was going to say before he had even called on her. He cannot control himself. “You are a lying deceitful monster who believes she is so righteous and strong. Yet i find it hard to believe there is a fate worse than marrying someone of his blood-” “You will hold your tongue!” The room which had begun to be filled with whispers and small chatter ceases completely at the girls outburst. Her face having a look that no one has ever seen from her. Anger. Vaemond takes a step back as if her voice had thrown him back. Everyone else in the room finds themself frozen in fear.

“You dare forget yourself i am first lady Y/n Maegyr of House Maegyr, one of the three triarchs of Volantis i am not someone who is below you, i am not some family member of yours, you will not dare speak another nasty word about him or i shall watch your blood pool on the ground by my blade.” Without another words you swiftly turn your back to him and make your way back to the pillar you were once leaning against, not sparing anyone else a glance and sliding down it to be sitting on the floor with a bored look. You do not pull out your dagger nor do you look to speak with anyone else, simply all you do is stare out into space.

Before anyone else can say a single word the king is announced and he is shockingly walking in. Jacaerys can't find himself to care much however. You are the only thing on his mind. You defended not only his mother but him. You did not get angry when Vaemond insulted your own honor but his. He attempts to will away his blood that begins to pump down south. Maybe you had just done it to keep up appearances, it would be wrong if you did not defend your betrothed.

Suddenly he is rushed with guilt. He had been so cruel to you last night, maybe it had been deserved but he should not have spoken to you like that. He will have to make it up to you somehow. An idea pops up in his head. He is so distracted he does not even flinch when daemon slices off Vaemond’s head, instead turning his head in your direction to see how you react. You don’t, as expected and you do not move even as the trial is called to an end. He finds himself moving without thinking.

You look up once you notice a shadow close around your vision and see him staring down at you, offering you his hand. You eye it for a moment before grabbing onto it and he helps you up. He watches as you use your free hand to dust off your pants briefly before looking back at him. “Thank you.” He wasn’t expecting you to say anything and merely nods, he feels as though the roles are reversed, he should be the one speaking not the one silent. You make no move to let go of his hand and he does not let go either. He does not want to let go. “Are you free this afternoon?”

He watches as you look at him wide eyed, he gives you a small smile, maybe he could use this as a way to apologize. But he watches as you look down at the floor and let go of his hand. “I find myself,,,,,” You trail off with an unsure look on your face, “preoccupied with other things this afternoon until the dinner tonight.” He takes this as a clear rejection and takes a step back. Maybe you truly did what you had done for your own benefit and he finds himself annoyed at himself. You probably were not even busy, you were probably just not interested in seeing him. “of course you are. Good day then.”

You are once again forced to watch him simply just walk away from you as you have once again messed things up and merrily sigh as you watch him walk off. As much as you would like to spend the afternoon with him you have other things you must do. Things you cannot afford to miss. He will understand. But as you walk around out you begin to think about the words he had said to you last night. ‘I know you hold your own anguishes against me’ or even when rhaenys had asked you if you hated him, has you crinkling your eyes. What had they meant by that? You let out a sigh and continue walking through the streets with your hood up, You have things to do, people to meet, you will dwell on this later.

Dinner time has finally arrived and everyone had gotten into their seats, even viserys had been escorted into the room but one chair remained empty. Your chair. “The lady is no where to be found my queen.” Alicent sighs in defeat, had you left? It did not make sense. Maybe you are heading home to plan an attack on her and her family. No. She should not think so irrationally now. “If she shows up escort her here.” The guard nods before moving to leave the room. “Should we pray?”

“She cannot stand your presence so much she is missing dinner.” Aegon whispers in jacaerys direction before being shushed by his mother who begins to pray. Jacaerys has never been religious so he has no reason to pray. Are you truly missing dinner because of him? He begins to feel sick. Jacaerys had definitely not spend his whole afternoon thinking of you even when he was walking in the garden with baela or when he had found out lucerys was to be married to rhaena. It got him thinking of his own engagement. He has been trying his best to figure out what he was going to say the next time you spoke, maybe he should stop trying completely. Today was a slip up in his judgement, he should have listened to his head and not thought with his cock like Aegon.

He will not speak to you unless necessary.

That entire plan lasted all of five seconds because as soon as alicent was done with her prayer the doors to the room opened and his jaw fell to the floor. You stood in a floor length sleeved in the color of house velaryon. It had a long slit down your front down to your waist where it connected to another slit down your leg. the dress covered in detailed designs of flowers. Your hair was done, full of pins and topped with a golden clip which made it look like the sun was shining behind you. he could see the scar that was was usually hidden behind your very covered up look clearly now. it ran completely down your chest and stopped around your stomach where there was a bigger scar.

You were gorgeous. No gorgeous is not enough. you looked radiant, glorious, his vocabulary is not large enough to describe the goddess standing in front of him. He may not be religious but he believes you to be the closest thing to the maiden. A goddess that has flown down from the heavens to grace this earth.

You awkwardly readjust your dress as everyone in the room gawks at you. “I apologize for being late. This dinner clashed with my prayers.” There is a couple beats of silence before anyone says anything. “It is my fault, i should have taken your faith into account when i set this dinner up.” Otto is the first and only one to break the silence and is given a nod before you make your way towards the table.

Jacaerys quick to stand, you look at him in shock as you sit he pushes in your chair for you before sitting back down himself.

Shortly after all the food is being brought out and the chatter at the table begins. “you look beautiful. That dress is stunning, where ever did you get it?” rhaenyra is the first to speak to you, he watches as you reach your hands and readjust the slit on your dress. You are not wearing your gloves. “I had it made in a tailor shop in the city last night, i had gone to go pick it up this afternoon.” He cannot take his eyes off your hands, still covered in rings. He can see black marks peaking through your wrists but mostly hidden under your sleeves. He wants to see them. He wants to see you.

“A dress like that made so quickly? That is quite impressive.” “It is easy to have stuff done quickly when you are presented with enough coin.” more mindless chatter flows around you all. There is an awkward energy in the air but no one dares acknowledge it. Jacaerys feels terrible. You had been busy this afternoon. And he had been so rude about it. His terrible temper and sensitive feelings continue to sway him in the wrong direction.

He wants to speak to you. But he feels as though he will just screw it up once more.

“Lady Maegyr, you had mentioned you are a triarchs of Volantis, is it normal for two members of the same family to rule at the same time?” You pick at the food on your plate, “My father was not re-elected lord hand.” “That must have not gone over well with him.”

You glance up for a moment at daemon before you look down at your plate. “He was furious. So furious in fact he demanded a recount, then another recount. When that didn't work he attempted to bribe them. When that didn't work he tried to kill me. Both the other triarchs were re-elected, He had thought it was ridiculous i was elected. i had not spent a single second or coin to campaign” “but you traveled out there recently no? was that not to campaign?” “it had been to help my father campaign. Seems like it did not matter. The people wanted me to sit on the throne.”

“Do you know why?” It takes you a moment to answer but it is clear to daemon who chuckles to himself. “You are to be a Targaryen.” You hum, taking a large gulp out of your wine glass. “Every single old blood dreams of being even close to the great legacy of house Targaryen. They simply are trying to flatter me.”

There is no room to acknowledge the tension in the room. The adults more interested in learning about you, throwing questions at you left and right. Its a good thing, there's no room for in fighting between the family and you serve as the perfect distraction. “What happened to your father then?” “He had fallen off a cliff. Such a tragedy.” You do not mean that, you seem far too pleased for it to be merely an accident. “That is horrible.” You simply nod, and watch as a maid fills up your wine glass for the fourth time.

“Is your mother around?” “My mother died soon after giving birth to my brother.” Alicent places her hand on her chest, “I am so sorry.” You shrug, continuing to sip on your drink. “I was born with my twin brother, they had not expected her to live anyways.” “Twins are tough.” It is helaenas first time speaking that night, a depressed look on her face. “Birthing is not easy even with one, i cannot even imagine two. Isn't it not common to survive?”

“Yes well, my mother had not died while giving birth. She had actually looked like she was going to live which shocked the midwives in the room.” The room sits in silence and some in pure confusion, “Imagine the look on their face after my father picked up a blade and slit it across her throat.”

Rhaenyra chokes on her drink while alicent gasps and covers her mouth. “No…” “ ‘an heir and a spare’ they say. when i was pushed out first he had expected he would keep her around until she gave him another son but soon after me my brother came out and he had no more use for her i suppose.” “That's horrible.”

You simply shrug and finish off your cup requesting some more. “it is in the past. My father shall pay for what he’s done, the lord of light shall do what he sees fit to punish him. Even so he has already paid for his crimes in a sense.” It is a shock to hear you talk so much. Maybe it is the wine that is loosing you up. But there must be a deeper reason as to why you seem to be acting differently tonight.

“It is nice to see someone can keep up with me in the drinks. Maybe we should see if you can keep up with me in other places.” Aegon whispers the last part in your ear. You keep your gaze forward continuing to drink, had you even taken a bite out of your meal.

“Hold your tongue when speaking to my betrothed.” It is now jacaerys who whispers from your right. He has a venom in his voice as he glares in his direction. You look at neither man, simply blind to the stare down they are having behind you.

“My lady i truly feel bad for you. I'm sure his cock is so flaccid he has no clue what to do with it. If you ever need some real experience feel free to come visit me.”

What really gets jacaerys anger is Aegon placing his hand on your bare back that had been exposed. He swears his eye is twitching as he fights the urge to pick up his steak knife and stab it into his hand to get it off your skin. He had never even touched your skin before.

You suddenly reach behind your back and rip his hand off, twisting it lightly causing him to hiss. “Touch me or even so much as speak to me again and i shall do worse to you.” You do not even spare him a glance as you finish down yet another cup and wave down the servant to refill your cup.

Jacaerys however is too anger to say anything else just angrily shoving some of his chicken in his mouth. His other hand rests on the table clenched in the fist. He should not be so angry. He is embarrassed. Embarrassed that Aegon is most likely right. He was obviously not good at much, he could barely speak Valyrian, could barely control his temper-

A hand gets placed on his clenched fist and any thought in his mind ceases to exist. He looks over at you and he notices that they have just brought you a jug of win seemingly tired of having to walk over and refill your cup. You keep your gaze forward but he notices your clenched jaw and rapid blinking.

He has no clue if he’s right but due to your excessive talking and drinking as well as even your posture he could tell, you were stressed. Your mind was clearly not here, Which is why you were answering any questions throw at you. Why you seemed to not even mind the way the men were eyeing you down at the table. He had no clue why you were, he wishes he did. Wishes he could make it go away, he does not wish to see you so stressed.

He unclenches his fist, twists it around and hesitates before lacing his fingers with yours. He expects you to turn him away, or even glare at him but you don’t. Instead you allow yourself to grip his hand tight and your shoulders drop as you relax and let out a deep sigh.

His skin burns, like the two of your hands together rub together to create electricity which sends shockwaves through his soul. He is surprised your hands are so soft, he had expected them to be a lot rougher due to your excessive sword training but you must wear gloves almost all the time as they look like there are barely any scratches and marks on them, as if you have never even lifted your hands to do anything before. His thumb starts to rub against the back of your hand. He knows its not good to question you. Not that you will give him any answers anyways. but he hopes that you do not have to stress for long.

The tension in the room is much more palpable now. They had stopped grilling you about yourself. You almost want to leave but it would be in bad taste, you know they would fight and rhaenyra would want to leave the keep, you must prevent that from happening. “Do you mind if i ask her to dance?” You snap out of your thoughts and lightly turn in his direction. Haleana had just given a speak and looked rather down. Of course he would want to atleast try to cheer her up. but you know that is not a good idea. So you stand, letting go of his hand and his looks up at you in confusion as you walk over to the small group of people playing music.

You stand awkwardly as a cheerful jig started playing and everyone looks over at you. “Lets,,, dance?” Its a group jig. Everyone looks back and forth at one another. You reach your hand out in helaenas direction and she smiles as she stands up to grab it and jacaerys stands to join you soon after, rhaena baela and lucerys follow. Aegon shakes his head as his mother urges him to get him, she has to give a pointed look at the king before he rolls his eyes and stands, walking over to aemond who shakes his head at him causing Aegon to smile and grip his shirt to drag him with him.

Alicent and rhaenyra watch you all with a smile, even otto and daemon have a pleased look as they watch you all. Jacaerys is shocked you even know this tune, he had thought it was a westerosi tune but he guessed you have been in westeros longer than you have been in essos. The song ends and you all laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. You simply stand and watch all of them with a pleased look. Jacaerys looks at you with a smile and grips your hand tightly. He looked so happy. You wish you felt the same but you felt too much stress to share the same sentiment.

“This makes me so happy. To see you all get along. This is all I've ever wanted.” They all stand around and stare at one another as viserys speaks. Alicent stands and looks to viserys. “Isn’t this a great way to end the night.” Viserys eagerly agrees seemingly exhausted and everyone gives each other hushed goodnights as they walk out the room. You nod at rhaenyra and daemon who grabs your hand and thanks you before leaving. You can feel a gaze on you and turn to see otto staring at you. All you do is give him a dramatic bow your gaze never leaving his face as you walk off to join jacaerys who was waiting for you by the door.

“Allow me to walk you-” “No. I will walk you to your room. I don’t plan on sleeping just yet.” You grab his hand and drag him towards the direction of his room. He says nothing as he watches the back of your head, attempting to keep up with your long fast steps. Soon enough they are standing in front of his room and you do not turn back to look at him, instead breathing deeply and gripping his hand tightly. He turns you around to face him, “Please you must tell me what is wrong? Are you alright?” You shake your head and let go over him reaching down into the potted plant near his room and his eyes widen as he sees the long metal chains in your hands. “My lady..?”

“You will listen to me very closely. You are to tie these around your door, your windows and there is a shelf in the back of your room that you must secure this around as well,” He blinks at you as you shove them in his hands, “I do not understand-” “You must do this i beg of you,” “My lady-” “You will not leave your room. You will not open the door should you hear knocking you will not even answer if you hear one of your own families voice. unless it is my own. No matter what you do or see you will not you must promise me.”

You cannot falter to his puppy eyes. The clock is ticking until things start to explode and you are too worried too stressed, you cannot allow anything happen to him. You cup his cheeks and pull him closer to you, his breath hits your face and his eyes dart around your face. “Y/n…..” “Please jacaerys.”

He gulps. His past dreams and thoughts float their way up to his mind. He wants to kiss you, he is staring at your lips so intensely he is not even answering you. You notice this and sigh, shaking your head. “It is not a good time.” “If the situation is as dire as you make it seem maybe it is the best time.”

“I will kiss you later should you agree.”. Though his heart begins to race at the idea and he almost opens his mouth to eagerly agree he cannot stop the anxiety brewing in his stomach. “But what if you are in danger-” “No. You must stay. Agree to do it.” Your face turns to one of irritation at his continuous refusal. “What if i do not?” You press your face closer to him and he instinctively closes his eyes. “I guess i will just have to drag you to your bed and chain you there. Keep you there all night.” He lets out a shaky breath as you step back. That's all he wants. All he’s been thinking about.

“That doesn’t sound so bad. Would you join me?” You shake your head and look at him desperately. “please jacaerys. you must.” “Will you even tell me what this is for.” With you blank look he knows he wont get an answer so he sighs. “I will. as long as you promise to stay safe.”

You freeze. as he looks at you expectantly. He watches you look off to the side and think. He may not know what is going but he can tell you plan on doing something crazy. “I promise.” “do you mean it or are you just saying that.” You give him a flat look and roll your eyes. “I mean it. Kostan daor jikagon, mirri mēre kostagon gūrogon ao hen nyke.” He blinks and tilts his head. “Will you teach me what the things you say mean?”

You look at him once more before you begin to walk backwards, “Goodnight. jacaerys.” “Will you try to get some rest?” You say nothing and just turn your back to him walking off. He watches you until you are far out of his view and attempts to calm his pounding heart as he enters his room. His tub already ready for a bath, he does what you say after waving off a couple maids saying he has no need for them tonight and he wants to go to bed early. He is bad at tying it, he is sure you would be anger if you saw the terrible job he did.

He is unsure as to why you need him to lock up the cabinet in his room but he does it anyways with the most confusion. He strips himself and settles into his bath, its hot. Very hot actually. But it is a nice change from the cold bath he had taken yesterday. You are the only thing he can think about. He wonders what you are doing what is going on. But in a weird way he finds himself trusting you. He has no reason to. You have not shown yourself to be trust worthy. maybe it is the childish part of him or his own selfish desires but he believes you and will do anything you say.

His mind slowly drifts to your dress tonight. The way it flowed as you walked away, the exposed skin where he could see scares all over your legs and back but you still never showed your arms. Was there a reason for that? He wants to know everything about you. He dunks his head under the water as he begins to wonder what you are doing right now.

You stand in your room, back into your black leather outfit as you heart pounds. Looking at the variety of weapons on your table in front of you you hesitate before strapping them onto different spots on your outfit before you stand Infront of your door and freeze. wiping you hands in front of your armor you gulp. This is it. You cannot mess this up, what this has all been leading to. You stand and wait. and wait, and wait and wait and wait for your queue. When you hear the rushing of footsteps outside your door you open it. looking around the hallway before stepping out and swiftly making your way through the corridors with your hood now tossed up.

You were called to the temple about a month ago. it was the highest request from the high priestess herself. Only a few days after you had been elected.

‘There is something you must know. the flames have told me something of great danger.’

You sit in your chair held up above the ground with a bored look on your face. “What could be more important than ruling Essos?” You watch the priestess pace back and forth and sigh.

“The king is going to die soon.”

“That is a shock to no one.”

“no no you must understand they plan to kill the heir.”

This has you sitting up completely with wide eyes. “Whatever are you speaking of?”

“They plan to kill her, her and her children.”

You freeze, blinking slowly. “… her children.”

Jacaerys.

“They plan to gather in the keep. Should they leave war will begin, should they stay they will all die. You must go.”

You play with your dagger that you had tucked into your pocket and look at the priestess with a confident face. “What must i do?”

“They will not do it by their own hands. You must kill them.”

Viserys will be dead in minutes alicent knows this. She watches viserys mutter to himself. She feels sick, sicker than she’s ever felt when he would take her at night, sicker than he had announced to the council he will marry her. She does not want this to happen. She fears what will happen afterwards. The door of the room opens and she stands in shock looking at women who had just entered. “Rhaenyra?” Rhaenyra walks swiftly over to her father ignoring alicent completely and kneels down next to him. “Father?”

Otto walks in the room swiftly after and looks between them all alarmed and walks closer to alicent. “You will be a beautiful queen. I just, wish i could have seen it.” Otto eyes alicent who looks at him. Otto cannot allow this to happen. He already has the means to get rid of them set up, he had not accounted for rhaenyra showing up in this room right now. He can see a danger on the table and grabs it. Alicents eyes widen and she begins to steps towards her father. She does not want rhaenyra to die. That is the last thing she has ever wanted. So she is more than relieved when the door opens to the room once again and otto drops the dagger quickly.

Daemon, unlike rhaenyra who had seemingly ran in here straight from bed still in her night gown, daemon was completely dressed in his leather armor suit with his sword attached to his side quickly making his way over towards rhaenyra to comfort her as she had begun to cry as viserys retold the story of Aegon the conquer once more. Otto internally curses as he knows he cannot act with daemon around. The only real question he has is how did they know to come here? They were meant to be dead asleep in their rooms so the people he hired could come in and deal with them, but what were they doing outside of their room how had they even known to come in here?

Otto gives alicent a look before leaving the room. Alicent begins to worry what otto is going to do. She has no clue but based on what he was about to do she has her worries. But she cannot dwell on that right now she approaches closer to the other two and simply can only watch as viserys passes.

Jacaerys was unable to sleep. His thoughts filled with you, and with worry. What did you seem to be so concerned with? His eyes closed he continues to toss and turn in bed until he hears a thump against the cabinet you had him lock up. He sits up alarmed his eyes widening and heart racing. It continues to thrash until he can hear the sound of gurgling and he can hear what sounds like a body hitting the floor. He wants to get up and check it out but your words ring in his head. He can’t. He is choosing to trust you. he hopes he does not grow to regret this

Alicent is left in a room for the first time since viserys had passed. Daemon and rhaenyra had walked back to their room to mourn maybe an hour ago? She had no clue how much time had truly passed. She finally allows herself to cry. To cry about everything. She swears this is the first time she's cried in years, everything suddenly crashing into her in a sudden wave of anguish. Maybe she had a distain for the man and his blind ignorance of everything but she never truly wanted him to pass.

“Pick up your tears girl there are things we must do.” She looks up towards her father who walks in the room with a satisfied look on his face. “What did you do?” Otto simply shrugged, “What i had to do. There is nothing you can do now it is already done.” Alicent looks angry now, the tear streaks still left on her face as she glares at her father. “The king never would have wanted this!” “The king is dead. Now it is time we move. Come, let us discuss this more privately.”

Otto is horrified to walk into his room to a pile of bodies stacked in the middle of his room the one of the topic having the his back exposed with a familiar skull carved into it. The volantis currency coin honors skull. “That cunt.”

“‘That cunt’ is right.” The two of them jump and like you appeared out of thin air you approach from a far corner of the room. “You.” Otto glares at you and he notices all the blood splotches on your face and he sees the dagger you are holding in your hands, covered in blood.

“Yes, me.” “You have no reason to get involved in this. These are family affairs.” You tilt your head and alicent sees a crazy in your blank eyes she only sees in daemon. It is not clear to her. You do not have a distain for him. You are on the same grounds as him, you probably respect him more than anyone else. She has severely misunderstood you. and now she will pay the consequences for it.

“I have no reason to get involved? They are to be my family. I am to be married to him.” You walk past him and stand directly in front of alicent who looks down. “Here is what is going to happen. You two are going to stop this mindless nonsense. Rhaenyra is going to ascend the throne, daemon will take the position as hand, otto will return to oldtown, Me and jacaerys will take our place in dragonstone, baela and rhaenys will return to driftmark, and you, your children, rhaena and lucerys and the rest of her spawn will stay here.”

“The realm will never accept a women on the throne.” You do not turn back to otto as you address him. your gaze staying strong onto alicent. “They did not seem to have any complaints. Not until you and your Hightower cunts started to spread around that ridiculous rumor about her.”

“You must know it is true,” Alicent hands begin to shake as she speaks, “You cannot truly look at him and think he is of pure blood-” “You will not open your mouth to speak about him again. I let your foolish game go on for too long, it ends today.” Otto stares at the back of your head and scoffs. “You do not truly love the boy do you? You are incapable of love you are nothing but a monster-” “QUIET!” He flinches as you are louder than you've ever been, even during today's trial you had not been so loud.

“You will never speak or even so much as think about him again or else.” His eye twitches as you do not even turn in his direction and keep your gaze on alicent. “You don’t want things to get ugly do you? It would be a shame if something happened to your dear son in oldtown, hmmm what is his name?” You put your hand on your chin in a fake ponder as alicents eyes widen in horror, “Daeron..” “Daeron yes! thats it! it would be terrible should anything happen to him no?” “What have you done?” You open your mouth in a mock horror as your face remains blank, “Why i would never? what a horrible accusation? I just happen to know a few people in oldtown who happen to be willing to do whatever i say.” You get closer to alicents face and stare her down, “It would also be oh so horrible should anyone find out what happened to dear poor Dyane.” “How do you know that?” She whispers to you, she feels like her world is closing in, she feels dizzy and the only thing in her vision is you.

“You may have tried to pay her off but it is best to remember this, i have more. More of everything. More men, more money, more power. You will never win in a fight against me. I am the threat, your worst outcome. You do not wish to toy with me. For i will not kill you, that would be too good of a fate for you. I shall lock you in a room and each day present you with a piece of your children all chopped up day by day night by night until there is nothing left of them and of you because you will be nothing more than an empty shell of yourself.”

She falls to her knees in front of you and when she looks up she sees the closest thing to the stranger. Maybe this is the gods way of punishing her, for trying to change history, for deluding herself in her own self righteousness, It was not all undeserving but she is certainly no saint. She watches as you tilt your head at her and raise your eyebrows. “You will do what i say.” “You did all this for him?” It is the only thing she can find herself to say as you crouch down to be eye level with her. She sees a dark look in your eyes as you lean forward.

“I would do anything for him.”

Knocking at his door came. He does not speak, simply holding his tongue and waiting. “It is me.” He lets out a sigh of relief and quickly rushes towards the door to unlock it and hurriedly lets you in. “My lady, Are you hurt? What has happened?” “You should head to the main hall, The king has passed.” “Grandsire?” He looks over you wide eyed and he grips your arms tightly as he notices the blood. “You are hurt.” You shake your head and for the first time ever he sees you smile. “It is not my blood.” You are so beautiful. He hopes you are forever this happy as you appear to be in this moment.

He is shocked when you grab his face and give him a peck on the cheek. “I told you i would reward you.” “I was thinking of a different kiss my lady.” You raise your brows at him, “I had no clue you were so scandalous my prince. Your grandsire just died.” He smiles and leans himself in to kiss you-

“Jace!” He groans as you step away from him and turn towards the door right as soon as Lucerys stepped into view, out of breathe. “Oh Lady Maegyr.” He bows and you nod your head at him before he looks up at you with wide eyes as he sees the blood on you and looks to jacaerys who is glaring at his brother behind your back. “mother is calling to gather all of us.” “I will meet you in a moment.�� He says with intention on finishing what you started. “No he will accompany you there. I must go back to my room but i will meet you all there, if the queen asks for me tell her to start without me.” He glares as you give him a nod swiftly avoid his hand reaching out to grab you.

Lucerys looks at jacaerys who groans and walks out the room with a grumble. He does not even bother to check if his brother is following him. He is more than ready to get whatever needs to be done over with so he can see you again. His mother rushes over and pulls him into a deep hug upon seeing him. “I am so glad you are alright.” he smiles at his mother reassuringly, “i am alright mother, i swear.” After greeting lucerys he walks to stand by daemon who gives him a sly smile. He does not say anything to jacaerys but by the look on his face jacaerys knows he wishes to say something to him.

“Where is Lady Maegyr?” “She had said something about returning to her room. She said to tell you to start without her.” Lucerys answers her quickly. Rhaenyra glances over at jacaerys before simply nodding. She begins to speak about how today will play out, She will be crowned within the next couple hours but before then a personal family only funeral will be held for viserys which is currently being set up. He wishes he could say he is sad to see viserys go but in truth he barely knew the man besides the few times he would speak to him as a young boy.

“My queen.” You walk into the room having changed into a simply black dress, it had been a hand-me-down dress rhaenyra left in your room for you only hours prior and she smiles as she sees you, rushing over to you. “is,,, everything alright?” You know the implications of her question, her worries about the Hightower's and her half siblings and you nod. “It has been taken care of completely do not worry yourself.” She looks at you bewildered at the tone behind your words, “You are not implying what i believe you are…” Her words trail off as alicent walks in somberly dressed in complete black while Aegon trails in behind her looking like the happiest man in the world, a big smile on his face as he stands and bows to rhaenyra, “My queen.” Rhaenyra raises her bows and blinks in shock at his overjoyed appearance and simply nods to him.

Everyone in the room is looking at alicent who does not lift her head or say anything for a few moments before bowing. “My queen.” “There is not need for you to call me that, alicent.” Alicent looks at her hesitantly, the look on her equivalent to that of a kicked puppy before she nods and looks back down. Rhaenyra turns back to everyone else in the room and sighs, “You are all dismissed. You will get ready for the funeral and will be retrieved later.” Everyone floods out back to their rooms to get ready the only one who does not have a somber face is Aegon who practically skips back to his room.

You linger behind for a moment with jacaerys as you look at rhaenyra, “Do you need me?” She simply shakes her head and places her hands on your shoulders. “You have done more for my family than i can even say, please, is there anything i can do for you?” You blink for a moment, unsure of what to do with the sudden praise and simply shake your head. “No my queen. for i already have what i want.” You glance over at jacaerys who blushes at your look and turns away with a cough attempting to push down his smile. He turns around as to not have to face his mother and is instead met by daemon knowing grin and he shakes his head at the young boy.

“Then i can only as you to accept my thanks. and you stand by my family today during the ceremonies.” You nod and bow at her. “It would be an honor my queen.” “You are to be family my dear of course you shall stand with us,” she wraps you in a hug. You stand frozen for a moment, unsure you can recall the last time someone had even hugged you. You hesitantly bring your arms up and wrap them around her. “Maybe later we can discuss you and jacaerys staying at driftmark.” She pulls away after whispering in your ear and nods to dismiss you.

You bow once more before turning to leave, not turning back to look at anyone else and as soon as you step out the door you feel waves of relief crash over you. You had succeeded, they were all alive and well, rhaenyra would be crowned and there would not be any issues from the Hightower’s. You must write to the high priestesses and inform them of your successes but you are suddenly stopped by a frantic rhaenys sprinting towards you with a letter in hand. “Corlys is awake!”

Rhaenyra walks over to jacaerys and places her hands on his cheeks, “My boy. Today is a big day for not just me you know.” He nods and stands up straight. The past couple years of work he’s done to prepare and the years he knows he will have to prepare even more. “Of course my queen.” She presses her lips against his forehead, “Go get dressed.” He nods and exits swiftly leaving alicent, rhaenyra and daemon to discuss god knows what and makes his way to his room attempting to ignore his growing anxiety.

The funeral is a somber service. You stand by jacaerys and grip onto his hand tightly as viserys corpse burns he hears you muttering prayers to yourself with your eyes closed as the fire grows bigger. He does not know much about the lord of light and its religion, he’ll have to do some research once he has the free time but he knows the importance of fire to you and he pulls you closer to him. You open your eyes and stare at the flames in front of you and lean your head against jacaerys’ shoulder and let the flames take over your light of vision, the lords comfort warming you as you feel like this is a sign from R'hllor himself as the flames get bigger and bigger he is content with your work.

Unlike the funeral the crowning is a much more joyful affair, everyone changing out of their mourning outfits and putting on more regal attire as everyone stands around and watches rhaenyra be crowned. Jacaerys send a weak smile his mothers way as he watches her. Him being named her heir is inevitable at this point. He has begun to shake out of nerves. He is not good enough to do this. He cannot do this. He feels you grab his hand this time expect it is absent of your glove and he sighs at the feeling of your warm skin against his. The feeling of your cold metal rings and your comforting touch manages to calm him down until the end of the ceremony where he lets out a sigh of relief as people begin to flood away.

“You must accept my apologies my queen for i must leave.” It was the grand feast afterward rhaenyra looks over to you in shock, you had just given her your congratulations and she places down cup she had been sipping from. “Is something the matter?” “Lord corlys has awoke your grace, the situation at stepstones is too dire for me to ignore any longer.” Jacaerys walks over to from leaving his place by lucerys to stand by you, “You are leaving?” You stare at him with a sadden look before you look down at the floor. “I must.” He attempts to ignore the gnawing feeling in his stomach at the thought of you having to return to war. The two of you have not even gotten to discuss the rapid change in your relationship, if he can even call it one.

“I do not wish for you to go.” He grabs your hands in his and whispers to you. You look at him with a conflicted look and shake your head. “I will return to you. Wait for me?” He nods. He will, he will wait until the end of time for you to come back. So only a few minutes later he watches with a bitter heart as you get on a horse and give him one last final look before you ride off, it takes everything in him not to chase after you. Daemon places his hand on his shoulder and turns him so they can walk back inside together. “Will she be alright?” Daemon is quiet for a moment, “That is a ridiculous question. She is a warrior, she will live.”

It has been over a month since he’s last seen you. Since he’s been struggling with his thoughts and feelings about you. His mother had sent him to dragonstone to take up his place in the ancestorial seat. It was tough to be so far away from his brothers and parents but he did his duty day by day. He wrote to you once but as always did not receive a response. You confused him, You seemed to content with him but you continue to ignore him. He does not understand you.

So his confusion only grows as some of your footmen arrive in dragonstone one day with boxes full of items. “It is the triarchs things Lord Velaryon.” “You bring them here?” “The triach has requested it.” He simply nods and allows them to bring the things in, He is shocked to see how many boxes their truly was. He had never assumed you were the type to care about material goods. “A lot of them are dresses my prince.” A servant tells him as he sees Jacaerys eyeing the boxes, “It is much colder here than it is in Essos so the lady had to have many new clothes made for her to wear here.” Jacaerys lets out an ah as he roams around the boxes, of course, he head heard how hot it is in Essos, apparently Volantis is the hottest out of them all. He shakes his head as it begins to be filled with him trying to imagine what you typically wear back at home. You must not be as covered up as you are here. You probably wear anything at all.

“Do you two plan to share a chamber or do you have a separate room for the lady?” This snaps jacaerys out of his thoughts and he begins to think it over. It would be inappropriate for you two to share a chamber before you are married, but the selfish part of him wishes for when you return back to him for you to stay with him, it makes him sick a the idea of you staying in a separate room from him. But he knows he must do the appropriate thing, tell him he will have a separate room prepared for him. “We will share the main chamber.” Yet he cannot. The servants nod and begin to move the boxes towards the main chamber.

The hour turns late and the sun has since set until your people finally leave with a bow and all your stuff has been placed all over what was once just his chambers. He is at first overwhelms by the smell of you but he soon smiles to himself as he walks around the room. He did not have much stuff, he was never one for material goods but you however had many little trinkets and decorations placed all over the room. He notices a large vase in the room filled with beautiful red roses, he sees a tapestry of the symbol of the lord of light hanging near the bed, he notices the closet the once looked bare now completely filled with a variety of custom made dresses. He walks around the room with a smile on his face as he admire all the little signs of you all ober the room.

What does catch his attention however is a box places on the bedside table. It is a plain wooden box with no clear sighs of what would be in it. He should not open it. He should walk away and leave your personal stuff alone but he cannot stop himself from opening it. He is greeted by a sight he did not expect. Anything he had ever given you, from the letters, the flowers his mother forced him to pick and give to you, even his handkerchief he had lent you one time, everything laid neatly and organized inside the box. he picks up the letters and swipes through them. He is shocked that you had even opened them so much as kept them, he has sworn to himself you had thrown them away. But if you kept them why did you never respond? You continue to confuse his mind and his heart.

“And i thought it was improper to look through someone else's things.” He freezes as he hears the voice he’s been waiting to hear for over a month now. Whipping his head around he sees you, standing clad in your armor shaking your head at him with a soft smile on your face. “And imagine my surprise when the maids told me my stuff was placed in your chambers at the princes request. I never knew you were so scandalous my prince.” He quickly stands and to get a good look at you. You looked like not even a day had passed, just as beautiful as the last time he saw you. He hesitantly smiles. as you walk over to him and take the letters out of his hands and gently place them back in the box like they were your most prized possession.

“You kept them?” You nod as you close up the box and pick it up. “of course i did.” “But you never responded.” This has you looking down and turning away from him. “I did not think you wanted me too.” This has him laughing awkwardly as he watches you closely. “Whatever do you mean?” You place the box on the windowsill and turn back towards him, fiddling around with your armor. “I, am not very good at,” You put your hands back and forth between the two of you, “This. all i would do is mess it up.” He walks closer to you and he can feel his heart pounding, he wants you to mean what he thinks you mean. “Why do you think so?” “My father was a very strict man, he taught me that being friendly will get me nowhere, men don’t like talkative women. So when all you seemed to do was want to talk to me. I was scared.”

He feels his heartbreak. He thinks back onto your brief interactions that month ago and he begins to feel guilty. You just had no clue how to talk to him no matter how much you wished to. and whenever you would try he would say something rude to you. He feels like shit. “I am so sorry. What can i do to make it up to you?” You tilt your head at him in confusion, “Whatever did you do?” “I had been so rude to you-” “It is of no ones fault other than my own.” “That is certainly not true, you have been so so kind to me. to my family. and i have been nothing but a piece of shit.” You giggle at his foul language and shake your head. “Then we are both at fault.”

The two of you laugh. He is so happy. He had been feeling lonely this last month it is so nice to finally be with someone else, especially since it is you. “How is stepstones?” “The war is done. for now atleast, who knows when they could come crawling back up.” “So do you plan on returning to Essos?” “I will be staying here.” “Aren't you one of the rulers of Essos?” “They will be just fine without me, should anything dire come up you should come with me.” “truly?” “You ever been?” “no. but i have always wanted to see it.” You squeeze his hands as you stare at him, “Then i will take you. I will take you anywhere you wish to go.”

His eyes drop to your lips. He is dying to kiss you. He must. He will not live a second longer if he does not. “May i kiss you my lady?” You grip his cheeks and pull him to you. The second your lips tough he feels like he has been lit on fire. Everything else in the world fades as the only thing he can see and think about is you. Your lips move together like the perfect song, working in perfect sync in harmony to create something glorious. He does not want to pull away not even when his lungs begin to hurt from the lack of air he continues to kiss you. He never wants this moment to end. But it does when the two of you separate, breathing heavily. You look at him and he can see the wanting glaze over your eyes, it is unbelievable he is able to control himself.

He tried to pull you back into him once more but you put your hand between your lips. “If this is truly going where i believe it is going can you allow me to bath first? I do not wish to smell like fish and blood and shit.” He shakes his head as he tried to pull you back in, too greedy to even let you slip from his grasp for a second. “I do not mind.” “But i do. Please.” He groans and lets you go as much as he does not wish to. “Fine.” “Do you wish to wash me?” His eyes widen at the idea and his mouth might have even begun to water. “I do not know my lady. Is that a good idea?” “If the prince was not so scandalous it might not be but maybe i was wrong to suggest it.” “I will do as you ask.” “You are a fool.” “Your fool.” He watches as you flush at his words and he calls for the maids to draw you a bath.

He can not help but stare at you as you take off your amour. The leather pieces pilling up on the table as you relieve more and more of yourself to him. It could be poetic, but jacaerys can’t think about anything else like that right now. Not when you stand in front of him, he turns away when you begin to slide off your under clothes. “You do not wish to look at me?” “I am nervous to what i will do when i do my lady.” You say nothing in return but he hears a couple more items drop to the floor and your footsteps on the ground walking towards the bathroom. “Are you going to bath me or not?”

He quickly stands and his hands shake as he makes his way towards the bathroom. He is surprised his knees do not buckle under him as he sees you. Sitting in the tub, steam hitting you oh so perfectly and your bare arms rests against the sides of the tub and he finally sees you fully. “Pick your jaw off the floor my prince.” He can not. He wishes to get on his knees and worship you, he swears he has never seen anything as beautiful as the sight of you. he had thought the most gorgeous you could look is when he saw you in that dress but you look so much better here.

He hesitantly walks over to the bath and kneels right next to you. He grabs the soap and grabs your arm as you carefully watch him. He lightly turns your arm so he can get a full few of the tattoos on your arm. It is a beautifully intricate dragon, it almost completely covers your whole forearm and he can see you have a matching one on your other arm. “What are they for?” “In Volantis when you are of old blood it is customary for you to get dragon tattoos on your arm to symbol your relation to Valyria.” He traces the design with his fingers, admiring the art and the act of you showing this part of you to him. He places a kiss on the dragons head before he begins to lather your arm in soap.

No more words are spoken between the two of you as he washes your back, then your other arm before he moves onto grabbing your hair products and running his fingers through your hair and scratches his nails into your scalp. He hears you hum, your eyes closed in delight and he gulps as he begins to throb against his pants. He watches as you dunk your head under the water to get the product out and you sit back up, looking at him as you run your hands down your face to push away the water. “Why don’t you join me? It would be easier for you to clean me if you were also in here.” He hesitates, nerves build up in his stomach as he opens his mouth but no words come out. “Are you sure my lady?” You smile and nod at him, leaning your head back against the tub to watch him.

He stands and begins to unbutton his tunic, tossing it into some corner of the room. Unlike him you do not take your eyes off him as his bare chest comes into view or even when he begins to unbutton his pants. “My lady is very shameless.” “Is it so wrong i look at you?” He shakes his head before he hesitantly pulls down his pants and he is suddenly standing bare in front of you. He hisses as he cock jumps up to slap him in the stomach leaving you to laugh before he hurriedly moves to sit across from you. The tub is big enough for the two of you to sit side by side but he does not even dare to come that close to you. “You still have a job to do.”

He picks back up the soap and drags it over your collarbone. He watches as the soap bubbles slide down to lay on your breasts and groans to himself as he continues to scrub your down. Ignoring your breasts he instead focuses on your stomach and sides. It feels so intimate, to rub his hands all over your body especially when you continue to let out your own hums of pleasure.

He runs his finger along the long scar down your chest and stomach. “It was a gift from my father. When i turned of age and he found out i was able to be elected. People had begun to suggest i should be nominated in his place. He made sure i would be bedridden for months. They could not nominate me that year.” He leans his head down and presses a kiss against the top of the scar at your neck. “I am glad he is already gone for i would have to deal with him myself.” You reach your hand on his arm and smile at him, nothing more is said but the look in your eyes says enough.

He tries his best to not look between your legs as he washes your legs one by one, he does not allow himself to linger at your thighs before he swiftly pulls his hands away from you. His hands burning as if he had just touched the sun. The bath was now cold. The two of you simply laid their for awhile before you sat up and grabbed his face. “Thank you my prince.” “Jacaerys, jace, not my prince.” You press your lips against his and he groans. The kiss is full of much more fever and desperation this time. He barely believes this is real. He must be imaging this as he had over a moon ago.

You take your hands away from his face and slide them down his chest as he feels your tongue prodding against his mouth he pulls back suddenly causing you to freeze. “Did i do something wrong?” He shakes his head, out of breath as he speaks, “No no nothing wrong. I have imagined this far too often for it to be anything wrong. it is just, i am very sensitive and if you touch me just once i will not be able to perform again.” He hopes you understand what he means. He hopes you know you are not rejecting him, but he wishes for this to go right, and if he is being selfish he does not wish to watch his seed float around in the water but instead flow out of you.

He watches as you stand up and he cranes his head up to look at you. You are the pure image of beauty. He could die now and be content with how he lived for simply getting to breath and stand in your presence is enough for him. He watches as you step out of the tub and he cant help but stare at your ass as you turn your back and walk out of the room, you turn your neck and look at him. “Are you coming?” He quickly stands and follows after you, neither of you bothering to care about the dripping water all over the bathroom and the bedroom. You have sat down on the bed and hold out your hand to pull him on top of you.

He pulls you into another kiss as the two of your skins press against each other. He feels so hot. He hands press against your face as he opens his mouth and allows the two of your tongues to intertwine with one another. His lips leave yours as they instead they begin to trail down your jaw and down your neck as his hands move to grip your waist and pull you closer to him. The two of you stay like that for awhile, and expected to stay like that the whole time but are more than shocked when he grips your hips tightly and flips you around so you are on top and he is on the bottom, you sitting directly over his abs. When you look down at him in confusion he simply smiles at you.

“It is only right you are above me, for you are a goddess who deserves to be worshipped.” His hands slide up your stomach and begin to fondle your breasts as you throw your head back and moan. “gaomagon daor tepagon qrīdrughagon aōha dōna udra sīr easily syt iksan naejot qūvy ilagon se qēlossās se se jēdar syt ao” he easily recognizes the words. The same ones you had told him in the library that faithful day in the keep. “What does it mean?” You moan as he thumbs begin to flick against your nipples and look down at him. “do not give away your sweet words so easily for i am willing to tear down the stars and the sky for you.”

He can not respond, not when he watches as your hips begin to move along his abs, fuck, he can see you essence leaving a trail on him as you use him for your own pleasure. He would let you, use him all day, any day, if it meant he would get to hear the sounds you are currently making, the way your face twists in pleasure with your eyes closed. “Have you ever touched yourself my lady?” You let out a meek hum as you throw your head back, he's hands move from your breasts to your hips to help guild you. “I have Jace, everyday, i can not help it for i am thinking of you.” He lets out his own string of curses at your admission. He watches as you reach one of your hands to your folds and your moans only get louder.

He wants to do that. He wants to know every inch of you to be able to pleasure you in all ways he can. He wants to be the reason you get louder, he wishes for you to desire him, to have to need him like air like he needs you. “Teach me how to do that.” He is more than happy when you remove your own hand and grab his, moving it to slide under you and he curses as he feels your wetness dripping on him. “Are you supposed to be that wet?” “It is because of you Jace.” He feels you move his fingers to push past your folds and he can feel a hard bulb under this fingertips. “That. touch that Issa jorrāelagon (my love),” You moan as you feel his rougher fingers begin to press against it. “In circles, ugh yes like that, you can press harder.”

The roughness of his fingertips feel much better than your own fingers and you can’t help but move your hips faster against him. His fingers move faster against your clit and you can feel the burning in your stomach grow larger. “Issa jorrāelagon, im gonna make a mess.” He groans at your words and uses one hand to move your faster and the other hand to continue to play with your clit. “Please do, fuck, I want to see it, fuck.” Can a man cum untouched? He has no clue but the way his cock is throbbing he swears he is about to burst at simply watching your pleasure. He feels the rush of liquid begin to pool and cover his hand. He moves his fingers and moves them towards your opening as he can not get over the way it feels, the hot liquid pooling over his fingers.

You jump when he pushes two of his fingers inside of you, hissing as he shoves your own cum back inside of you as he touches your gummy walls. “Jace,,,” You moan out as your head drops forward to stare at his wrist. He says nothing but moans as he begins to thrust his fingers in out, barely pulling them out before he shoves them right in. He is fueled by your moans, the way your hands claw at his chest as he is simply amazed by you. You do not know if your walls are covered with your own essence or your own cum as he adds another finger and presses them against your walls.

He wishes to memorize you, to keep this locked tight in his memory for him to look back on. He can barely believe what he is doing and hopes he is doing it right. But when you begin to move against his fingers he knows he must be doing something right. The only words you speak are his name, over and over again as he fingers begin to move faster and faster inside you. The pit in your stomach grows once again and your begin to drag your nails down his chest in pleasure. “I am about to cum jace.” He says nothing this time only moving his free hand to play with your clit which sends you over the edge. He does not remove his fingers are stop his movements simply enjoying the withering pleasure you are feeling

“Please Jace i wish to feel your cock.” This has him removing his hands and you hiss at the sudden emptiness. You watch as he places each of his fingers in his mouth, closing his eyes and throwing his head back, like your own taste is his own personal pleasure. His eyes are cloudy in a haze as he watches you sit up with shaky knees and adjust grab his dick in your hands. He moans as you rub your thumb over his tip, spreading around his precum and pressing down against it. “Do not tease me y/n please.”

He watches as you sit right above him, you sink down low enough that just his tip is rubbing against your folds. You use his tip to push your folds aside and slowly you begin to sink down onto his cock. If he was told this is how it felt after he died he would have believed it. He has never felt a greater pleasure than he has right now. He understands why people consider this act sinful, for everyone would be doing it everyday if it were not. He watches his cock slowly disappear and he lets out a whimper as you sit all the way down.

He can see the dent in your stomach and reaches his hand to touch it. This was unbelievable. He stares at you, the way you look down at his hand and cover it with your own, pressing down causing him to groan and you to moan. Unconsciously you readjust yourself, lifting yourself on him just so slightly just to slide back down and he curses.

That felt so good, he wants you to do that again. “Can i move?” You are clearly as desperate as he is and he hears it in your voice. “fuck please my lady please.” Your hips lift and you come crashing back down onto him. The bed underneath you rocking with the action as you do it over and over and over again. Slowly at first but you begin to create a rhythm as his hands grab your tits to squeeze them.

The room is filled with the sounds of your slamming against him, the wet sounds of him pushing into you and your combined moans. If this made him a sinner so what? He was not religious and he would refuse any god that said this was not the most holy and pleasurable thing to do on earth. He begins to move his hips up to meet yours and he watches your face contort. “We must do this, ugh, everyday.” You nods feverishly as both of his hands moving to your hips to help you bounce faster as his hips begin to harsh slam up into you. “Yes, everyday, every night, ughh, everywhere,” You let out an especially high pitched whimper as he begins to toy with your clit. “All over the castle.”

Yes he would like that, so much. He can see it now, the way he would allow you to sit on the throne as he pounded into you. The way you would sit under the table during meetings and suck him dry while he attempts to maintain his composure, fuck he’ll do this everyday of his life for as long as he lives. He can feel that familiar feeling brewing ever so close in his stomach, “are you close my lady?”

You let out a rush of hushed yes’s as you begin to move faster. “Cum with me my lady, cum please.” You let out more yes’s as he feels you throbbing around his cock causing him to burst. You cry out at the feeling of his hot seed spilling webs inside you as he suddenly flips you around and continues to pound into you as your back hits the bed. “Cum my lady, fuck.” The change of angles hits you so well along with the sounds of wetness splashing below you as he cock pushes his cum deeper inside you and all around your walls.

You suddenly splash over him with a cry and your back arches off the bed. He can feel you hit his upper stomach, all over his thighs and even his chest. You looked so beautiful, the way your eyes shut closed so tight there were crinkles around your eyes and the way your teeth and jaw clenched as he feels you continue to pulse against him, liquid trickling around his cock and out to drip on the bed.

He leans his forehead against yours and the two of you just lay there for awhile. attempting to catch your breathes. He brings one of his hands to caress your cheek and you open your eyes to look at him. “Jace.” “I love you.” You smile, a wide grin fills you face as you chuckle. “I have loved you for a long time Jacaerys.” He kisses you lightly and the two of you simply lay like that until you fall asleep. sharing pecks and tiny whispers of admiration. He can barely believe he got so lucky end up with a woman like you. Someone who loved him so much they would do to the ends of the known world for him even if he had said some cruel things to you. He loved you he loved you he loved you and he was so happy you loved him too.

a.n: This is genuinely the most crazy project of my whole writing career LMAO if you've made it this far i really want to say thank you. It's because of the endless support I've gotten on my recent stuff that really gave me the confidence to write something like this. I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS i love you all so much <3

perm jacaerys taglist: <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[moonstruckme]

HI omg I’m in love with you and your writing and your sweet demeanor- you’re amazing!! I have a request for emt!marauders in an established relationship - with reader who is terrified of throwing up and emetophobic? Thank you!!!!

Thanks lovely <3

cw: emetophobia, mention of vomit (no description), reader has hair long enough to pull back

modern au

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 679 words

“Dove.” There’s exhaustion in Remus’ voice, and you feel wretched for putting it there. “You’re going to feel so much better if you just get it out of your system, sweet girl.” 

“I’m fine,” you mumble, but you have to swallow after the words. The muscles in your abdomen spasm punishingly. 

“You’re not,” Sirius insists. He’s been alternatively soft and stern with you, a vacillation you know stems from worry and so you’re trying not to hold it against him. Still, Remus sets a pacifying hand on his shoulder when some of your hurt shows on your face. 

You know you’re being difficult. You’d all gone out for dinner the night before, to a nice place, and all gotten the same pasta on the server’s recommendation. It was really spectacularly good. You’re not loving it so much now, though, when you can taste it in the back of your throat, vying for exit. 

Each of the boys had thrown it up in the early morning, and you’d spent the night on the couch, the worst girlfriend in the world, listening to ocean sounds through noise-canceling headphones and trying not to think about what was happening in the bathroom. 

Now you’re still lying curled up on the couch, taking sips of coke through a straw with a tiny electric fan set up on the coffee table to blow cool air in your face. James has wormed his way underneath you so your torso is laid across his lap, one of his hands pressed protectively over the aching part of your belly, and Sirius is perched on the coffee table while Remus watches you from the armchair. 

“Baby,” Sirius tries again, “Remus is right. This sort of food poisoning doesn’t go away on its own. You won’t feel better until you let it out.” 

You make a half-suppressed whimpering sound, and James coos, rubbing your stomach. “I know,” you admit. “I just—” Mortifyingly, tears invade your vision. You press your face into the couch, but not before you see Sirius’ brow crease with sympathy. “—really don’t want to.” 

“We know, honey.” James kneads skillfully at your abdomen, working out the tight muscles. “I get that it’s really hard for you, and you’re scared, but when it’s over it’s over. You only have to do it once.” 

You nod, and hot tears clump in your lashes. You don’t trust yourself to speak anymore. You hear the bucket they’d brought into the living room for you being moved closer, but you ignore the sound. 

“You’re alright,” Remus says, voice low and sure. “You’re going to be just fine. Just let it happen, and then you don’t have to do anything else. We can all relax for the rest of the day, yeah?” 

James’ fingers press gently into your stomach, and your gasp turns into a hiccup. You lean over the bucket with a whine, and Sirius grabs your hair while James murmurs apologies and assurances one after the other. 

“There we go.” Sirius holds your hair in one hand and rubs between your shoulder blades with the other, his touch cool on your hot skin. “Good girl, let it out.” 

When you’re done Remus brings you straight to the bathroom to brush your teeth, and they all oblige you when you want to change into new pajamas regardless of your current ones being perfectly clean. 

“You’re all done.” James takes your still shaky hands once you’re feeling fresh and clean, pulling you back onto the couch and mashing a kiss onto your temple. “Proud of you, sweetheart.” 

You harumph, but cuddle up to him. It is nice to be rid of the nausea, and the clamminess of your skin was something you didn’t realize had become so oppressive until it was gone. 

“I hope you’re willing to put as much energy into snuggling as you did into making me sick,” you tell him. 

Remus pokes you with his foot for being mean, but James does look a bit sheepish as he tugs a blanket around the both of you. “Oh, absolutely. Triple that.”

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[blankfairy]

THE OUTLAST TRIALS — REAGENT/EMPLOYEE FILE PSD

(Download here. Available separately or as a .zip file. Font used is secret service typewriter, but any typewriter-esque font will work. Example of it in use here!)

So, um. Outlast Trials, amiright?

I'm a big big fan of faux files and ID cards and the like for OCs, and given how many exist within the world of the Outlast Trials (and how detailed, too!), I thought I'd try my hand at my own!

These are some fairly simple PSD templates for you to put your OC into, whether they're a reagent or a Murkoff employee. There's also a 'backside' with more room for additional information, so you can make it as long as you like.

I used photoshop to make these but they seem to work fine in Photopea (a free in-browser alternative).

TIP! To make your text a little wiggly/worn in like the prompts: select your desired text and hit 'select pixels.' With the selection, add a color fill (black), then select the layer mask. Go to filers > pixelate > crystalize (3) and apply. You can go bigger than three but it tends to get muddied after that! Adds a nice lived in effect.

Please tag me if you use — I want to see your OCs!! Hope y'all enjoy and please message me if you need any help/have questions!

[wordsofwhimsy]

𝙀𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪 - Pt. 7 - The Finale

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

【Ａ/Ｎ】⦂ This is it guys! The final part. It’s definitely on the shorter side but I just couldn't think of anything else to add, and really felt this scene wrapped it all up nicely. I hope you enjoyed the story~! I certainly enjoyed writing and can’t wait to put out more for our lover boy 😘

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】⦂ (Unspecificed)Variant!Mark Grayson x Reader

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】⦂ None

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】⦂ “What Was I Made For?” by Billie Eilish

→【Ｐａｒｔ　Ｓｉｘ】←

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The morning light filtered through the thin curtains of your bedroom window, casting a soft glow across the old wood floor. There was a quiet hum of life slowly stirring outside.

You were awake first, lying still, staring up at the ceiling, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts. You felt his presence beside you—Mark, still sleeping peacefully. The way his breath came slow and steady, the rise and fall of his chest beside you felt strangely comforting. As if for the first time in a long while there was peace in this chaotic world.

His fingers twitched against your skin, and when you turned your head you saw that he was still fast asleep, his face serene. Mark’s usual stoic, hardened expression was absent, replaced by a look of utter release and relaxation. For a moment, you just watched him—your mind still reeling from the events of last night.

The night had been… intense. More than you expected. More than you knew you were capable of feeling after everything that had happened. But now, in the quiet of the morning, the weight of it all was settling in. You felt the familiar pull of uncertainty, the discomfort of trying to make sense of what this meant, of what you had done.

You’d been through so much—trapped in this universe, desperate to rebuild while mourning the life you had been forced to leave behind. And yet the work you had done here, the people you had helped, the relationships you had forged, it all was beginning to feel… important. Real. Realer, in fact, than anything you had ever done in your life before. In truth it wasn’t even comparable.

Mark shifted beside you, and you felt his arm instinctively reach for you. His warmth enveloped you, and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh. He didn’t say anything, but the weight of his presence, the way he just was there, felt like the most normal thing in the world.

It was absurd, you thought, how normal it felt.

When Mark’s eyes finally opened, he blinked up at the ceiling, clearly disoriented for a moment. Then his gaze landed on you, and that familiar, hesitant warmth crept into his expression. Seemingly without even realizing his own actions, his fingers trailed absently over the fabric of the blanket that lay between you both.

“What a beautiful face to wake up to,” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep. There was a genuine softness to his words, a hint of something like happiness—something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in so long. His eyes lingered on you, and there was something new in them. Something uncertain, but hopeful.

You shifted a little, turning away from him slightly as a flood of conflicting emotions hit you like a tide. The anger, the betrayal, all of it seemed like distant memories now, or maybe just fragments of a past life. You had spent so long fighting against everything he represented, fighting to survive in a world that seemed to have no place for you. But the truth was here, in this alternate universe, there was more purpose for you than you would otherwise ever have. You had fought to rebuild not just your town, but a sense of meaning. You had helped people regain what they had lost. You had started to make something of yourself, something that felt so much more valuable in light of it all.

And now, Mark was beside you. Your bodies had done something last night that was unforgettable. You experienced a sense of pleasure and euphoria you didn’t even know was possible. In the dawn of this new day, those feelings twisted in your stomach in a way that was hard to understand. Weighing it against every moment of every day over the past year was overwhelming.

You sat up, pulling the blanket around your shoulders and staring out the window, your mind racing.

“I never thought it would be like this,” you said quietly, more to yourself than to him. “I thought I’d just be… stuck here. Trapped in this world with no way out. But I’ve… built something. Something real, y’know? This town, these people, they’re not just a distraction. They’re my purpose now.”

Mark’s gaze softened, and he sat up too, leaning against the headboard. His voice was hesitant when he spoke again, but the sincerity in his tone was undeniable.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it.” He paused, his eyes searching yours. “But I can’t help thinking about how much I’ve changed, how much you’ve changed me. You’re different from the person I knew, but yet somehow still the same.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. The words were heavy, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. You turned back to face him, locking eyes for a long moment. For all the hurt, for all the betrayal you’d endured, you could see the raw honesty in his expression. The truth was you weren’t sure what to feel anymore. It wasn’t that you had forgotten everything that had happened—it was that the version of yourself in this world had become something else entirely. You weren’t sure if you could just turn away from it all now.

“I don’t know what this is,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ve spent the past year here, helping these people, making something of myself when I thought there was nothing left. I can’t just walk away from that. I can’t turn my back on them now, not when they’re starting to feel like home.”

Mark didn’t say anything at first, but you could feel the tension in his body. The vulnerability in his expression was clear, but there was also an unspoken understanding. You had made a life for yourself here. You had built something in a universe that was nothing like the one you came from.

“Then stay,” he said quietly, his voice filled with something you hadn’t expected: hope. “Stay here. With me. You don’t have to leave just because of the past. If you’re willing to stay, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. To help you keep building, whatever that means.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and thick with the weight of possibility. You felt a swell of emotion rise in your chest—a mixture of hope and fear, of uncertainty and excitement. It wasn’t easy to let go of the pain. It wasn’t easy to decide to move forward. But as you sat there, feeling the warmth of the house, the quiet hum of life outside, and you realized that you had already chosen.

You had chosen to stay. To make a life here. To see where it could take you.

Maybe it wouldn’t be perfect. Maybe the scars of the past would never fade completely. But you had purpose here. You had a future. And in this strange, alternate universe, that was something you hadn’t had in a long time.

The silence between you lingered, full of uncertainty, as your gaze met Mark’s. Turning your body toward him, you could feel your heart beating faster. The weight of the choice before you was immense, but it wasn’t one you could verbalize. Not now, not in this moment. So instead, you reached out, your fingers grazing his jaw, and without a word, you leaned in.

Mark’s breath caught in his chest as your lips met his. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if you both were afraid of breaking the fragile peace between you. But then, it deepened, a shared urgency blossoming between you both, a mutual understanding. No words needed to be said. This was your answer. The way you pressed closer to him, the way your hands found the back of his neck, pulling him in, made everything clear.

Mark’s arms enveloped you as he kissed you back, his touch gentle, almost reverent, as if he feared the fleeting nature of this moment. It had been so long since he was gentle with anything—since he felt that softness aimed at him. It made his mind reel. He held you with a tenderness you hadn’t expected, one that made the room feel like the safest place in the world. You could feel his heartbeat in rhythm with yours, steady and warm.

When you finally pulled back, there was no immediate rush to speak. Mark looked at you, his eyes searching for the answer he already knew was there. It was in the way you kissed him, in the way you moved against him, in the way your hand rested on his chest as if claiming that space between you both.

He didn’t need to ask. He knew.

And as he held you close, the weight of the past, the fears, and uncertainties that had clouded the air for so long seemed to melt away, replaced with something more hopeful. More real. You weren’t ready to let go of this place—this life you had built here. This world was now your home, and you had found a purpose in it that was deeper than anything you could have ever imagined.

Mark’s embrace tightened around you, and for a moment, everything felt as it should. There was no more doubt, no more hesitation. This was the start of something new. Neither of you knew where it would lead, but in that moment, neither of you cared.

You had chosen to stay, not for him, but for yourself. For the life you had started to build. And Mark knew, without needing to hear it in words, that this was a promise—one of quiet understanding, a vow made through an embrace, a kiss, and the warmth between two people who had both been broken and were now beginning to heal.

[moraesong]

hmm

park jisung x female reader

You've been secretly wanting Jisung, but he wants you too.

Genre: smut (with light angst and fluff)

Content: this is set in a non-idol alternative universe. reader has been pining for jisung and is infatuated with him. jisung leads, but it's on the softer side. unprotected sex, backshots, oral sex (f. receiving), creampie

Word count: 1,163 words

Author's note: This story is set in the same universe as my previous story with the escort reader, but I also consider this as being quite separate from that one. Context isn't as important in this one, so you'll be able to understand everything. Additionally, let's stay firmly in the world of fiction here!

Your heart longs for Jisung’s love and affection, but your body lusted for him, too. Yeah, you craved him. You always tried to be discreet about it, feeling a bit shy about yourself, but sometimes you'd stare at him when he wasn't looking at you. Did he ever notice that you did that? You weren't sure if you wanted to know the answer. 

You'd stare at his broad shoulders, or his slim, strong arms. Or sometimes his pretty jawline and full lips that you wished to kiss. You hoped to kiss his neck too, or maybe run your hands down his chest. 

You fantasized a lot. You wouldn't tell him, of course, preferring to keep your conversations with Jisung innocent. And it's not that you were faking or anything—you loved your sweet, earnest talks with him. But as time went on, you started thinking that maybe you should try to make your fantasies into reality. 

That would hinge upon whether or not Jisung wanted you too. Well, he likes you enough to call you up often and ask for your time, so perhaps this wouldn't be too farfetched. So you decide that you'll try and seduce him. 

Okay, that's probably not the best word for it. This isn't something that comes naturally to you, so actually, your plan is more so about showing him that you want him, and hoping that he feels the same. 

So the next date with Jisung comes. You're nervous. To be extra clear about your intentions, you'd also dressed more revealing than usual. Will he know from that? 

When he sees you, you notice that he looks surprised, and his lips make an “o” before he composes himself. 

You talk just like usual with him tonight, too on edge to verbally express anything to him. But you do put your hand on his thigh at some point during the conversation, and you feel him tense up. You almost take your hand away, wondering if he doesn't like this, but when you look at him, he just gives you a slight smile. (You don't know it, but Jisung always finds you cute. You're obviously so careful to not make him feel uncomfortable, but little did you know that he wouldn't mind at all if you did more.)

The turning point is when you catch him staring at your body. You make eye contact with him and he gets flustered, but you tell him, “You can if you want, you know.”

Jisung understands what you're trying to say. He asks you just to be clear, and you say yes. So the two of you are off to a more private place. 

He takes you to a nearby hotel. It's a nice one. The room is luxurious and it has a beautiful view of the city, one that you almost get distracted by.

(It's hard for you to believe that this is your reality now. The guy you've been pining for wants to spend the night with you, and it's going to be here? You feel glamorous, but also like you were possibly given something you don't deserve.)

So you only watch as Jisung takes off his shirt, once again too shy to do anything more. Sitting on the bed, you cross your legs, and he smirks at you, knowing what that means.

He asks you how you want it tonight, and you answer that you're happy to satisfy him however he likes. You'll let him choose.

It's not long before you're all undressed, on your hands and knees. You make sure the arch of your back is all pretty for Jisung to see. 

He's sweet, gives you time to adjust when he enters you. Your pussy loves him. He's so big, touching places inside of you that even you didn't know about before. You're drooling around him and still greedy for more. 

Warm and wet—you’re gripping him tight. He calls you a good girl, and you squeeze around him. That makes him laugh a little. “You like it that much?” 

You'd answer Jisung, ever dedicated to him and ever wanting to make sure that he's got you, but you're too overwhelmed to speak in this moment. You're overwhelmed in a good way. Your body feels like it's lit up from the inside. You love that you're so close to him, your ass flush against his pelvis. It's all him, it's all Jisung that you're feeling. 

He gives it to you so good, just like you'd dreamed he would. You're practically scratching at the bedsheets. He gives you one particularly hard thrust, and you wail a little. Then he stops, and you turn your head to look back at him, confused. 

Suddenly Jisung's hands come up to cover his face before he lets them fall away. He asks you if you'd like to throw it back for him? So you do that while he stays still, your little pussy swallowing his big cock again, easy. He smacks your ass lightly, being mindful to not hurt you, always treating you well. But you wouldn't mind if it left a mark on you. Then you'd really be his. 

Well, no matter, because either way you'll let your body belong to him, give it up easy because it's Jisung. 

You're spreading your legs for him now as his head is buried between your thighs. He loves how sweet and tight you are as he makes out with your pussy. You squeal as Jisung puts his tongue inside you and licks around, hollowing you out from the inside. He's so good, you think.

When he gets up, you take this time to lace your hands together with his, and lean in to kiss his lips. The two of you part, and you look at his eyes, so pretty, and your heart aches with how much you're infatuated with him. Pretty face, your pretty love. You stop and take a breath.

Jisung comfortingly puts his hands on your hips. He moves you so that now your back is more so up against his chest. He pushes into you until you’re split open on his cock again. You might never get used to his size.

He puts a hand around your neck, holding your neck gently, and his other hand goes down to your lower stomach, and presses down. Oh. He's trying to feel himself in you. Your pussy throbs at this, tightening around him again.

Between having Jisung's big hand around your neck and his other fingers now toying with your clit, you're so under his power. And he's so so deep inside you, it's all him, it's all him. He grinds up into you, trying to get even deeper if he can.

You squirt around him, the honey from your core dripping down your thighs. You got Jisung all wet too, and he likes it, coming inside you soon after. He comes a lot, filling you up with his warm cream. It's just too hot.

Notes: I wrote the first draft of this suddenly one night earlier this month, all at once. However, I later reread what I wrote, and I really felt that some parts needed more work. So I made some notes on what I wanted to change, and took some time to think about how I could change the story and what I could potentially add. The above text is the final result of my revisions, which were mostly done today. I think it was a good process, and that I naturally figured out what to change as I did it. For a while, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to post/write something like this, but once I thought of the first line, I thought it was too good to not be elaborated on. And since I'd drafted this, I thought I might as well rework it and share it. I did my best to pay attention to everything while revising, especially word choice and transitions between paragraphs. I found that it naturally ended up being a detail-oriented process. Thank you so much for reading—I hope this was good (I'm a bit nervous as I'm posting this). Have a great day!

Credits

Dividers: by chachachannah

—hmm, fanfiction written by moraesong on tumblr, posted 2025

[cvnt4him]

Do you think you can write something about Tenya Iida as a husband, where he comes home too tired after a mission and we as a reader decide to help him by giving him all the love and care he needs because this cute big baby deserves it. 🐝💕

(If possible, end it with soft NSFW, if it is not possible and it becomes uncomfortable, ignore the latter or alternatively the entire request)

Yes yes yes yes yes. I love this and I love tenya and I love you for requesting this. I hope it is to your standards and that tenya iida isn't ooc<333

It was a long shift for your husband. You instantly knew by the sound of his groan the second he walked through your front door, you were in the kitchen cooking, the smell of sweet food going through his nostrils. He sighs at the pleasant smell and wraps his arms around your waist.

You hum and sway your body with his. You turn around abandoning the food to hug your husband tightly. He sighs into your neck and holds you as closely as possible, you were his home, the one thing in this world that was worth fighting for. He loved you more than he did himself and wasn't afraid to show it.

Once he pulled away from the hug you looked up at your tall muscular man to see the slight bags under his eyes, the smile he put on his face was forced and half hearted. It didn't even meet his eyes. It broke your heart to see him this way, tired and stressed out. You wanted to make sure he knew that here with you was his safe haven. You were going to help him relax if it were the last thing you do.

Tenya kisses your forehead before exiting the kitchen, his boots thudding in the floor with each step of his heavy feet. You hum and put a tip over the food, turning it off to let it cook down. You follow him to see him shedding his hero suit, he scratched at the back of his neck and tried to massage his fingers into the tense muscle, a wince and a groan leaving his beautiful lips.

His back was well toned and very muscular, it looked so nice in the correct lighting, hell he looked nice regardless. You take in the sight for a little longer before walking towards your man unbeknownst. Your small hands trail up and down his back causing him to jump and shiver underneath your touch. You palms on his bare back as you rub and scratch at it. Tenya loved when he had little marks on his body because of you, he loved everything that involved you. He just loved you.

He hums and smiles genuinely, you kissed lightly up his back while still putting your hands all over his body. You put your hands on his shoulders and gently yet firmly tried to massage the muscle there. The tension built up in his back and shoulders was terrible, he groaned deeply at the painfully pleasured feeling. You had managed to get a tension kink out of his shoulders making him relax a bit, he was so thankful for that yet you weren't satisfied. He deserved to relax really well. You were going to make sure he felt nice and calm tonight.

A shaky breath left him, his eyes hadong closed underneath your warm touch. He hummed in content, perfectly fine with the way you were touching him. He was always so thankful for you. You never let him go a day without telling him how much you love him, same for him as well. It's like some sort of unspoken policy between the two of you. He adores you and is assured to tell you every day that he can.

"why don't you jump in the shower, love. I'm going to do a little something for you. A little surprise once you get out, perse."

He sighs and turns to kiss your forehead, you grab his glasses as he does so a chuckle leaving your husbands throat as he leaves and head toward the bathroom. The second you heard the shower sprite spray against the bathroom tiles you ran through everything you had to find every little candle you could.

You had lots of candles believe it or not, some time inside of your marriage you became rather infatuated with candles. It's not like you were a collector or anything but sometimes they were so pretty or smelled so nice. This little detail about you reminded him of his mother, he loved that about you. A little part of you is so alike his mother, it made him happy.

You had heavenly scented candles spread out across your room, safely of course. However you were sure tenya would reprimand you either way. The thought alone made you chuckle. You had some of tenyas lotion and body oil from the closet set so you could use it to massage into his muscles. You were no natural masooce or anything but you had seen the movies where they use these kinds of things.

Tenya took very good care of his skin and ushered you to do the same so there was no problem with finding a good body oil to do his skin justice.

You look around the room and sigh, you were pleased with what you've done. Just as you were about to pay yourself in the back the shower stopped, you hadn't even changed into anything nice! You quickly zoomed to the closet like you had tenya's quirk, and picked out something nice. Midnight blue lingerie, a color tenya always thought looked nice on you. It had a sheer robe that went along with it which you thought was a very nice detail!

Once tenya got out of the shower with a sigh, calling you to you, you surprise him by hopping into his point of view so he could see you. His eyes widened and he slowly took in the sight, looking you up and down nearly drooling. Tenya wasn't one to call you 'pretty' or 'cute'. Think more of 'gorgeous'. 'divine'. 'enchanting'. Things that would make you feel like royalty. He knew how to do that.

A little scoff left tenya's mouth, a small smirk appearing on his features as his eyes finally trailed back up to your beautiful face. The smile that was plastered on your adorable features were too entrancing to deny. He bit his lips opening his arms for a hug. You instantly ran into him giggling, he chuckled and held you close. You felt little water droplets still on his skin and bleed through your see through robe, you didn't mind though.

You were so short compared to him, the height difference always made you feel so tiny compared to him. You weren't that short, he was just insanely tall.

You basked in the feeling before being snapped out of your loving haze. Your thigh was right up against his bulge. Your smile grew wider at the feeling, his thick cock managing to make a print through the thick towel. It was taking over your mind completely.

Tenya looked at you closely, observing your state and the way you looked at him. except you weren't really looking at his face. Your eyes had trailed down to his waist and the towel that wrapped around it. A slight blush dusted his cheeks as a smirk had found itself on his lips.

"my love?" He questions, he knew exactly what you were looking at. He knew exactly and he couldn't wait to give you what he knew you needed.

"I did a little sum' sum' for ya!"

You exclaim excitedly snapping out of the daze his thick cock out you in..

He hums as you pull him out of the bathroom so he could see the room, how it was littered with candles that smelled so beautiful. He looked around to see the gorgeous setting you had set. It was perfect, he couldn't ask for anything more. You truly were the best thing that ever happened to him, you cook for him, clean, do laundry, make sure he's well and okay, you even help patch up new scars he comes home with. You were perfect.

The smirk that once took over his face was soon replaced by a look of fondness, love. He looked at it all before glancing down at you, his lovely eager wife. You had a smile on your face the entire time as you watched the way his face changed expressions so smoothly. You were bouncing up and down while giggling to yourself. You could tell he liked it, you just didn't know how much he loved it.

"this is.... Perfect, my love."

"i want to treat you right. You deserve it big boy, now lie down."

You say pointing to the bed with an evil glint in your eye, he hummed with squinted eyes he didn't trust you but wanted to see where this was going. He did as he was told and laid down in his stomach and chest. He rested his head in his hands while he sighed. Within an instant you followed and sat on his lower back, your weight making him with once more. He was so comfortable with it, your warmth being near his body and the thought of your cunt being so close yet so far away from him. He'd be patient however, he wanted to see how this would play out.

You grabbed a pair of gloves and slipped them on. You didn't want your hands to be extremely oily, the feeling was quite uncomfortable. You applied a shit ton of oil on your gloved hands and rubbed them together before gently putting your hands on your husband's back. The cold liquid and the rubbery feeling of the gloves made him shiver underneath you. You rubbed his back up and down before you went straight into the massage.

You dug deep into his muscles, trying hard to soothe them with the way you moved your fingers and hands with expertise. Tenya was surprised with how amazing this felt. You both had couples massages before and sure they were amazing but this was better, his wife trying hard to do her best and make him feel nice.

He was in heaven. Your movements and the way you pressed your hands into his muscles deeply was pleasuring. He groaned and tried to stifle his moans with his hands, but of course no matter what sounds he made you were happy.

A smile was pasted on your face as you continued your movements, he let out a loud groan as you managed to pop one of his muscles the loud popping sound made his body tense before relaxing again the both of you laughed as you hopped off of him and he rolled onto his back.

Tenya looked up to you with love in his eyes, you had managed to make him feel amazing and so relaxed. He couldn't believe someone as giving and loving as you were really, truly his.

He pulled you back onto him this time you straddled his lap, he gave a love filled smile before pulling you into a sweet kiss. You hummed into him pulling yourself closer by his shoulders, you leaned down onto him and held onto him tight. Tenya held the back of your neck attentively trying to hold you as close as possible.

One of his large hands went to hold onto your waist, the other still on your neck. The way his mouth moved against yours brought you peace, he was so gentle yet firm with his soft lips. He occasionally let out little breathy hums while he squeezed your hips. You held on tight and began slightly shifting your hips down into him, grinding against him while you try to stick your tongue in his mouth.

Tenya happily allows your tongue to enter his mouth, your tongues glided and danced together softly little breaths being let out while you two had this moment. Tenya let both of his hands grip onto your sides tightly, you jolt into him at the rough squeeze of his hands. His brows furrowed while he grinded your hips into him more, more breathy grunts flowing from him while you open mouth kissed each other.

He pulled away to put his forehead to yours, he sped up your movements while he shut his eyes. Tenyas cock was right up against your warmth and the friction he was getting was delightful, the rough towel chafing against the tip of his sensitive cock head while you grinded down onto it creating a pleasant pool of warmth where he needed it most.

His mouth fell agape and breathy moans started to leave his mouth, he sucked in through his teeth before biting his lip, he wasn't one to really moan unless he was really sensitive, you knee how much he needed this.

"I've got you baby.. I love you s’much."

You whispered to him, your foreheads still being pressed together. Sweat started to trickle at his while he let out quite a whimper-y moan that was muffled well due to him biting his lip as he came against the towel unbeknownst to you, you kept grinding down in him thinking he was close. Little did you know he'd already came.

He winced at the sensitivity that came from the friction of you still grinding down into him after he came, a whine left his lips before he harshly gave your hips a squeeze signaling for you to stop. Your eyes widened as you pulled away from him, rubbing his shoulders with your thumbs soothingly to assure he was alright.

Tenya sighed heavily, sucking in shakily before exhaling just as. You hum and move one of your hands up to his cheek and rub it, his head finds itself leaning towards the soft feeling of your hand, your skin against his. This little intimate moment helped his realize he craved it. Tenya craved to have his skin touching yours, so close you could practically melt together. It was an odd thought but it alone had tenya shivering and his cock rising again.

Tenya picked you up by your waist holding onto you tightly as he flipped the two of you, he was now on top of you peering down at you with those beautiful ocean eyes. His kids were slightly squinty due to him not wearing his glasses, he was used to not wearing them and honestly at some points didn't even need them, but he wanted to assure he could see you in this dark candle lit luminescent room. The same room you two laid in together, where you two made love countlessly, he'd bury himself so deep inside of you while you held onto him tightly begging for more. That was exactly what he wanted tonight.

You give him a warm smile with welcoming eyes as you opened your legs for him, he smiled back down at you before removing your shorts and lining himself up with your already wet hole. He teased your cunt by running his cock head through your folds, up and down your slit slowly, the agonizingly slow pace making his already sensitive cock twitch and jump against your clit the rubbing made you shiver. You slap his shoulder making him laugh before he leaned down to plant a soft kiss atop of your head, he then put your foreheads together once more and pushed himself into you.

You both moan in union, his ending with a sharp grunt that he choked on. You pulled him closer to you, your face burying itself into his neck while you squeezed your eyes shut. He was still pushing himself inside while he winced lowly, the stretch was always so good making you feel nice and full while giving you a moment to adjust. No matter how many times you take him you just can't seem to shake that intense stretch he gives you. A divine at that.

Tenya assures you're alright before he begins to move, the deeper he pushed the more you gushed around his cock slickening his length with your seeping arousal. your walls hugged him tightly as if they never wanted to let him go, you did the same as you held him close to you, your sweaty skins touching and rubbing together while his hips slowly shifts up into yours.

You let out a moan that goes straight to his cock, making him moan as you tighten around him when you feel it twitch. Tenya knows a lot about traditionally feminine bodies, he studied them in college for the fun of it. He knows that once the vagina is being penetrated it makes more room for the length it takes, having it bury the cock deeper into its fluttering path. Once he felt his cock sink deeper inside of you making you gasp sharply, nearly choking on the air, he knew you were bound to cum soon.

"ngh~ tenya.. fuck yes!— give me more please.. I'm so close, baby..."

You began getting rather chatty once you got closer to your impending orgasm. He knew this and was ready for it,vhe held you closer and started thrusting deeper into you a rather lewd sound had erupted from the sheer force of his hips slamming inti yours the slapping of skin against skin bouncing off your four walks and falling back into your ears, his mind was being taken over by your sweet sweet moans and the dirtyness if the plapping.

"fuck fuck fuck...."

He let out a chant of curses, they were laced with such need in his voice a whine could be heard at the end of his sentence. He squeezed his eyes shut tears brimming at the corners, he groaned deeply before speeding up again. Tenya's movements were fast yet tender, he wanted rough with you unless you asked him to be. He knew that you only wanted him to feel good in this moment but he wanted to assure to you and to himself that you gained at least some form of pleasure from this experience. He only wants the best for his darling.

Your eyes rolled back and a small smile fell onto your lips, your nails dug themselves into tenya's skin scratch marks formed deeply into his skin causing blood to rush to the surface of his skin painting his back red, his skin was flushed not just from the heat and intensity of this moment but also because of your scratches.

His hips stuttered into yours as he almost came from the pain and pleasure of your nails digging into his back, you felt his muscles tense underneath your touch and rubbed the stingy scars that now littered his back. Your touch was beginning to be too much for him, he had already fucked you some kind of dumb. Making the sweetest love to you in such a loving way, you'd came like twice already, going unnoticed to him because he was too busy trying to make sure that you came.

He tried so hard to hold out but he couldn't help his hot cum spilling out of his tip. It squirted out in long spurts reaching deep inside of you leaving calm and feeling good. You closed your eyes and just laid there trying to regain your composure. Tenya caught his breath and pulled out of you, grabbed the towel and gently cleaning up what dripped out of you.

He loved to watch his cum deep from your fluttering hole, it always made him feel some type of way. However as of right now he just wanted to hold you close and thank you for being his, and that's exactly what he did, he closed your legs to try and keep whatever little was inside of you inside bedside getting up and grabbing a pair of boxers, blowing out all of the candles then sliding back into bed next to you, his designated spot waiting for him.

Tenya scooted as close to you as possible, pulling you closer to him your face fell against his large chest and his muscular arms wrapped themselves around your body. A smile went to your face which triggered his own. He loved you so much. The fact you went through all of this trouble just for him made him feel so special and loved.

AN: this was written like weeks ago n I just finished I'm kind of exaggerating but wtv I haven't written in a while so I enjoyed making this! I've been in a bit of trouble with my family. Things haven't been good and I've been doing lots of things to try n comfort myself but nothing else is working. Everything feels like a chore. Even writing felt like a chore but finishing this and thinking about how much tenya loves his s/o js makes me so so happy

I've been going fucking feral for shoto bro he js does something to me, he's so sweet I just know he can fix me

[ironstrange1991]

The Goatee Problem

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0,600k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: This is just a small blurb I came up with instead of finishing my Defender smut. Didn't want to end the month with nothing so I am posting this. Hope you guys like it and have a short but very nice reading.

"Believe me, you don't want to see this"

Stephen's voice sounded a bit shaky and nervous and his insistence that you do not go into the bathroom had you worried.

"Stephen, just tell me what happened. Are you hurt?"

You tried again to open the door and this time he didn't try to stop you from entering.

He was standing by the sink, but he turned his face so you couldn't see him in the mirror's reflection. You walked over hugging him from behind and he sighed "My hands... are shaking more than usual today... I shouldn't have tried..."

He turned to you, his face still smeared with shaving foam, but the goatee you were so used to was gone. "I had no alternative but..."

"Oh..." Was all you managed to say before bursting out laughing. Stephen frowned slightly offended.

"That's why I didn't want you to see me like this" He said pulling the towel from his shoulder and wiping his face.

He was gorgeous. Of course it was weird to see him without the goatee, but he was still handsome without it.

"I am not laughing at how you look, but at all the drama you are making."

You caressed his strangely smooth face, your index finger tracing around his lips and down to his chin. Stephen's skin was extremely soft.

"I've had my goatee for years, I don't even recognize myself without it."

You nodded, still distracted by how much the sight of Stephen in that different way was messing with you. "Well, I can't complain, you're still as hot as ever"

His face flushed with your compliment which made the whole situation even cuter. You pulled him to your lips and the feel of his smooth skin was different and interesting at the same time. He seemed taken aback by the intensity of your kiss and he was the one who broke the kiss to breathe.

"Don't get me wrong, Steph. I want the goatee back and you're going to have to put up with Wong and America's jokes for a month, but it's not all bad"

He didn't seem to understand where there could be a bright side to that tragedy and you made sure to make that clear when you kissed him again and continued to kiss the corner of his lips, running your lips up his cheeks  until you reached his ear and licked his earlobe with the tip of your tongue before whispering "I'm sure it will feel very interesting between my legs"

He glanced at you completely intrigued as you pulled away and walked towards the bedroom.

"Did you like it then?" He asked still unsure.

You chuckled "Yes I did. Besides I'm sure in another universe there must be a version of you without the goatee."

He took a good look in the mirror and shook his head as if trying to encourage himself. "You're right, it isn't so bad."

"Don't get too excited tiger, I want my goatee back as soon as possible or you'll be sleeping on the couch." You warned.

“How do I face Wong and America now?” He asked, his voice sounding completely mortified “Shit, can’t let Stark see me like this.”

“Good lucky with that.” You said laughing while leaving the room.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

BACK TO DOCTOR STRANGE MASTERLIST

BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST

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[cocodotgreen]

Simynthos - (almost) cc-free

With all testing done I am happy to share with you the (almost) cc-free version of Simynthos today! I was actually surprised by how quickly it could be transformed, and I have to say I'm very happy with how it turned out!

For this version I removed all decorative cc. The only cc you now need for full functionality are the rabbit hole rugs. The lots are so small, there wouldn't have been nearly enough room for the in game rabbit holes. The rabbit hole rugs can be downloaded here.

I still recommend using the performance mods from the original post here, just to make things a little more smooth and enjoyable during gameplay. But they are not strictly necessary. You could also go completely vanilla (more on that below).

There are a couple of things to note:

Some of the double beds are placed against a wall and therefore only one sim can sleep in them now. You can replace them with the one sided beds for two sims, the ones I used in the original version, if you like. The mattresses by sketchbook pixels can be found here, and some nice custom bed frames from @aroundthesims can be found here.

I did make use of @omedapixel's S3DT (Sims 3 Decorator Tool) in two or three places, just to place decorative items on surfaces where they cannot be placed in a vanilla game. You do NOT need the mod for these items to stay in place, as long as you don't move them when redecorating. Then they may slip back into normal mode and you will only be able to place them back with the mod. But it's only in a couple of places, so even if that happens, it will not have a significant impact on your game.

Replacing some of the cc did result in some interactive items not being usable at first, but I hope I caught all of those cases during the (quite extensively 😉) play-testing. So now all interactive items should be usable. If you find any place where an item can't be reached by the sims, please notify me and I will update the world.

How does it run?

I have tested this version of Simynthos in two scenarios: With the routing optimization mods I recommended for the original version (that's the save all the screenshots are from 😉), but also in a completely vanilla game, playing just a small family with one child, and it actually ran pretty well on my gaming laptop, even without any routing improvement mods (my game is optimized though)! If you're going completely vanilla, it may get a bit annoying in some places though, with sims not being able to pass each other, and toddlers not being able to be put down on the ground due to lack of space. But if you do not want to use any mods at all, it would probably still be playable with a small household that doesn't host huge parties 😉

Thanks again to the creators who have made this world possible:

Thanks to @nilxis, the creator of „Sa Pineda“, for the beautiful base to this world. The island on which Simynthos was build is entirely their creation. I did not change the island itself or the terrain painting outside the lots (except for some places where I placed the walkways/paths). All credit for that goes to them! You can find the original version here. Also make sure to check out their other worlds, while you‘ re at it. They are some of my favorite worlds!

Thanks to @nornities for their extremely helpful CAW guide here. Unfortunately I only found this guide when Simynthos was almost finished. I could have avoided some of the mistakes I made, had I found it sooner!

Some of you may know, that I am not the first to make a Greek version of Sa Pineda. Back in 2016 Vendela created Simtorini. This super cute world has the typical blue and white houses another Greek island, Santorini, is famous for. Go check it out here.

Download Simynthos (almost) cc-free (SimFileShare)

Alternative Download (Dropbox)

Link to original post for Simynthos (version with cc)

[moonsglare]

who are the top ten pussy eaters from ptn, hsr and genshin all together in your opinion? :3c not really a request but it would be nice if you wrote something dedicated to the first and the second places in the ranking *wink-wink*

well i already know who's in first place........ this one's for you @sinful-lanterns 🫡🫡🫡

VORACITY || multifandom x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. cunnilingus, overstimulation, dacryphilia, squirting, edging, bondage

notes. the little 'excerpts' aren't very long, sorry anon 😭😭😭 alas i am not creative enough to come up with that many different ways to describe eating pussy 😔😔😔 hope u will enjoy <33

1ST PLACE: CABERNET FRANC

Do I even need to elaborate. This woman uses her tongue for a living, she'll be good at using it at the dinner table and between your legs (not that there's much of a difference to her).

She's tasted a lot of good things in her life. Meals made by the finest chefs in the world, and when her Sinner abilities awakened, she tasted souls themselves. But even then, nothing can compare to the taste of your slick on her tongue as she laps it up right from the source.

Cabernet's got her hands on your thighs, her grip hard enough to bruise, keeping them spread open for her to put her entire mouth on your twitching cunt. She alternates between sucking on your clit and plunging her tongue into your hole with ridiculous speed, and she doesn't stop until you're halfway passed out and oversensitive to even the slightest sensation.

You writhe on the bed as Cabernet brings you to your nth orgasm of the night, with nothing but her tongue. Your brain is foggy with pleasure, and you're sure most of it has melted and dripped out of your pussy as cum at this point, but you retain the slightest bit of coherent thought to wonder if Cabernet's knees hurt. Surely they must—she's been at this for hours.

But they do, Cabernet gives no indication, or she simply does not care. Her fiery red hair is a mess from you tangling your fingers in them, spilling like fire across your trembling thighs as Cabernet keeps her mouth firmly on your cunt. Her tongue ruthlessly plunges in and out of your dripping hole, a wet patch having formed on the bed from the times she's made you cum.

"P-please," you slur out hoarsely, hips twitching with each lick. "'S too much, 's too much, can't anymore—"

Cabernet only hums, the vibrations traveling right to your clit and making you sob. She pointedly ignores your whimpers and continues what she's doing, determined to wring yet another orgasm from you.

And fuck, she just might.

The coil in your belly is winding impossibly tight, and you squirm in her iron grip, tears spilling from your eyes now as your entire body feels like a live fucking wire. "C-Cabernet, wait, 'm gonna make a mess—"

"Go ahead," Cabernet croons against your cunt, warm breath fanning over your overstimulated nerves. "Give it all to me."

Her lips find your clit and suck hard, and you cum with a wail and an arch of your back, squirt spilling from your cunt and into her waiting, hungry mouth. Some of it splashes onto her neck and chest, and Cabernet's eyes go half-lidded with desire before she pulls back and you fall back onto the bed, gasping for air as Cabernet climbs over you, licking her lips.

"Simply delectable, my dear."

2ND PLACE: RAIDEN EI & NAVIA CASPAR

NOW BEFORE YOU YELL AT ME FOR PUTTING A TIE, HEAR ME OUT !!

These two are both fiends for sweet things. Absolute little devils for a sugar rush. And you know what they find the sweetest in the entire god damn world? Your pretty pussy of course.

They simply go a little feral between your legs, nosing into you and trying to prod their tongue into your cunt to coax more of your sweetness into their mouth. By the time you push their heads away from your overstimulated pussy, their entire lower face is shiny with slick, some of it even dripping down their neck.

"B-Babe, wait—"

Your words are cut off as she throws your legs over her shoulders, one hand on your thigh, and the other slung across your pelvis to forcibly hold you down. She pushes her face against your cunt, kissing and sucking at your clit, the wet sounds echoing throughout the room.

You arch your back, fingers digging into the sheets as she devours you. You're vaguely aware of her hips rutting against the bed too, her own core burning with need as she eats you out like a woman starved. You release the sheets and tangle a hand in her hair, fingers winding tight enough to tug at her scalp and she moans.

When she looks up at you, her eyes are glazed over, utterly drunk on your pussy. Her lower face is a mess, but she doesn't seem to mind, not as she dives right back in to prod her tongue into your needy hole and you shudder at the sensation, pleasure dancing up your spine like a lightning bolt.

You aren't walking away from this bed for the next few hours, that's for sure.

3RD PLACE: KAFKA

We all knew Kafka would be making this list.

Kafka is a little different from the other two rankings because while she has impeccable technique she doesn't get particularly pussydrunk like Cabernet, Ei or Navia.

So she'll edge you for hours with nothing but her lips and tongue, until you feel like even her just blowing on your clit would have you cumming with a cry.

Kafka is so mean.

You knew this when getting into bed with her, but it didn't really sink in until now, where she's had you tied up for the better half of an hour, your ankles anchored to each corner of the bedpost by maroon ropes, and your wrists bound above your head—all while she laps and kitten licks at your pussy, purposefully avoiding giving you too much stimulation.

Just enough to drive you crazy, but not enough to get you off.

You look down at her between your legs with a whine, need pulsing like a second heart throughout your body as you look into her eyes, dark with desire. She maintains that brutal eye contact with you as she licks a long, slow stripe up your cunt, from your hole to your clit, and you whimper.

The sound makes Kafka grin, and she brings a finger to her lips, wiping your slick off. She rubs her two fingers together, then spreads them in a v-shape, and marvels at the sticky, gossamer string connecting them.

"So pretty, doll," Kafka says, her voice a low, dangerous croon. Her hand rests on your thigh, and you tremble as she leans down and breathes ever so softly on your wetness.

"But you can hold out a little longer, right?"

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Shenhe, Mantis, Stelle and Rahu are all eager, but can be a little sloppy. It's okay though, with enough guidance they'll have you seeing stars soon enough.

Raven runs her mouth a lot, so naturally she'll be good at using it for other purposes too.

Angell gives me incredible cat vibes, and since cats have very dexterous tongues... well, you see where I'm going with this.

[wisteria-lodge]

Since we’re talking patronuses: how do you think Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Ginny’s work? I’ve always thought they (Especially Hermione’s) were a bit random.

Hermione's Patronus is an otter because JKR's favorite animal is an otter. It really isn't any deeper than that.

If I were going to give them all new Patronuses, and bounce off my head canon that I was using for Draco, that your Patronus doesn't represent *you,* it represents what *protects* you... lets see.

What protects Luna is her ability to retreat inside herself when things get rough. It doesn't matter how terrible her situation is, the beautiful world in Luna's head will keep her sane, hopeful, and joyful. That's how she survived inside the Malfoy dungeons, and actually managed much better than Olivander did. So, I'd give her an animal that reflected that, like an armadillo. Cute, gentle, and armored. Alternately, if I wanted to give Luna a Fantastic Beast (seems a pity not to...) I think it would be nice to give her an occamy. Like the occamy, Luna expands to fill whatever situation she's in. She can be small enough to stay out of trouble, or so huge and expansive that she can see answers no one else can, and show up when no one else will.

Ginny I think gets a phoenix. What protects her is the way she can be be hot, fiery and in-your-face... but also re-invent herself, when she sees something isn't working. (Harry isn't working out right now? Cool, let's date around and do something else.) I also think that the phoenix from the Chamber of Secrets would have really stuck with her. She spent that year being extremely vulnerable, putting herself at risk, putting Harry at risk... but here comes a phoenix to bail her out. I think that's core-memory enough to make it into a Patronus.

I want to go a similar route with Hermione. Her worst year was Year Three - she's working herself into the ground, she has no friends, she's stressed and out-of-control, she tries to help Buckbeak but it doesn't work. She misses this huge threat (Scabbers) that was under her nose the whole time. But Crookshanks picks up the slack for her. He's her companion, and he had the right idea about Scabbers and Sirius the whole time. I think she would have found that SO comforting. So that's why I think her Patronus would be a kneazle. They look like regular cats except for a few magical details, so they have a foot in both worlds the way she does. They're also very, very clever, and Hermione's brain is the main thing that protects her.

Ron was actually really hard, because the thing is I don't think he feels protected a lot of the time. The central experience of being Ron is - I don't feel prepared for any of this, but I showed up anyway. He doesn't feel protected within his family, half the time he's the one protecting his friends, and he doesn't have as much faith in his own abilities as Hermione does. I would actually have it be that Ron is the one person on this list who can't cast a corporeal Patronus in Book 5, and we wait until Book 7 for the reveal. And here's my kind of crazy idea. I think that Ron's Patronus is a spider, or even an acromantula. Because you know what really protects him, in Book 7? What allows him to back-talk Voldemort? It's this bone-deep knowledge of - Cute. I've seen worse.

And I actually think like a giant terrifying spider would communicate that pretty well.

[winniefrezcomics]

ELAD INFO DUMP

Anonymous asked: If dale is even worse in this au, does that mean that elad is a really good parent? Did ved have a super healthy upbringing?

(Accidentally deleted the question SORRY 😭😭) You’re definitely on the right track, but there’s one big reason I don’t think Ved’s upbringing could be called “healthy”; Ved’s father is, and always has been, utterly TERRIFIED of him. 🙃 (which I figured made sense as a polar opposite to Dale’s not giving af about his son ☠️)

In contrast to Dale, Elad is a timid, skittish anti-fairy, who prefers to live a quiet life on his own, tending his nightshade gardens and generally living a humble, almost ‘cottagecore’ lifestyle. He’s always been the kind of person who HATES to make a fuss or be the center of attention, and despite belonging to the awkwardly-human-proportioned species of anti-fairies, has done his best to remain completely invisible for most of his life.

Part of the reason for this is that, by all accounts, Elad is VERY nice for an anti-fairy, and grew up ostracized and bullied for it- not to mention the fact that he’s actually not all that powerful magically-speaking. He can USE magic of course, but tends to prefer doing things by hand, especially things like knitting and gardening.

(More Elad info under the cut!! CW ⚠️for unexpected pregnancy, a kinda unhealthy father/son dynamic, and a VERY brief reference to Dale’s trauma at the end) 🫶

While MOST anti-faries got at least SOME heads up that their fairy counterparts were expecting children, fairy Dale keeping his pregnancy a secret from the general public means that Elad- his anti-fairy with whom he has absolutely NO RELATION- gets BLINDSIDED by suddenly finding himself with a child. At first he did what he always did when something felt wrong with him: (as it OFTEN did in his teenage years- more on that at the bottom) ignore it and hope it goes away!! 🎉

Needless to say, it did NOT go away, and since no anti fairies had been born in ten thousand years (i believe the last was Ymmit), his pregnancy symptoms actually DIDN’T make it obvious what was wrong with him and why he felt so sick all the time. No matter how bad it got, though, Elad just leaned harder into home remedies and refused to see a doctor.

Then, the nightmares started.

Every night, Elad would get tormented by visions of horrible nightmare worlds, frightening him deeply despite the fact that he’s an anti fairy, due to his timid and cowardly nature. Every night the visions became clearer, and every day his symptoms worsened, and all the while Elad could do nothing to shake the terrifying sensation that, no matter where he went, he was no longer ALONE.

And then, in an explosive burst of magic, there he was.

A million thoughts ran through Elad’s head as he held his son for the first time, buuuuut Because he IS Dale’s opposite, at first Elad tries to put aside how terrified he is, and promises Ved he’s going to do his best to raise his “Miracle baby” right.

…until he looks Ved in the eyes, sees a familiar flash of gore, and realizes with horror that THIS was the cause of his nightmares.

See, while Dev has the ability to see into the future, and imparted that ability into his father pre-birth- VED has the ability to see into ALTERNATE UNIVERSES- usually those where things have gone horribly wrong in nightmarish ways! (His skills aren’t as honed as Dev’s are, due to not having the targeted lessons Dev has been reciving since birth, so it’s an ability he utilizes pretty infrequently tbh, but really piss him off and he’ll look you dead in your shit like “hey, wanna experience every gruesome death you’ve ever narrowly avoided simultaneously? 🤓” and then beam PURE NIGHTMARES into your head for like a fraction of a second ☠️☠️)

ANYWAY, by the time Ved was a toddler, Elad had pretty much already convinced himself the damn thing was going to bring about the end of the world, tho he WAS relieved the nightmares stopped upon Ved’s birth.

Visions of horrible alternate timelines or not, though- raising an anti fairy baby BY HIMSELF was a harrowing challenge, especially with Ved’s sheer power level- Elad had himself, his home, and most of his neighborhood transformed, destroyed, or otherwise warped COUNTLESS times when Ved was a newborn/ toddler.

I think ELAD’s surpirze child is actually probably what tips the general public off that Dale must have had one too tbh… as much as Elad would have TRIED to keep a low profile, that’s really not possible when you have an anti fairy baby, and Elad didn’t have a giant mansion for Ved to stay isolated in like Dev, so word got out pretty fast.

Elad would continue to try his best to raise Ved in a healthy home, but the fact that the man could not LOOK HIS CHILD IN THE EYES without experiencing some sort of horrible vision made it difficult not to jump whenever his pup would so much as move too abruptly.

While I think there IS some part of Ved that loves his father, I think more than anything he pities Elad, and secretly thinks his dad is a spineless, pathetic excuse for an anti-fairy (even if it IS indirectly veds fault that the poor man is so damn jumpy ☠️☠️) tho with most people Ved will usually hide behind fake niceness to get what he wants, (an incredibly believable act, since his father actually IS nice) Due to his unique upbringing, one of Ved’s personality traits is that he actively ENJOYS instilling fear in people and creeping them out, ESPECIALLY when it comes to his father and his fairy counterpart- because in a way, thier fear IS what he wants.

If I had to summarize what thier current relationship is like, I’d probably go with “father who generally attempts to be healthy and supportive, but with a constant undertone of unease, and an unhealthy power imbalance with his son” 😅

Short Drabble to give an example of what I mean:

Elad, tentatively leaning into his son’s room with a bowl of spiders in hand: “heyyy, Veddy- kins! I brought you some lun- EEK!!”

Ved’s claws ABRUPTLY scrape down the chalkboard he was scribbling on, interrupting Elad mid-sentence

“Eheh- Daddy? WHEN have I asked you NOT to disturb me?”

Elad, swallowing heavily: “wh-when you’re um- scheming, son?”

Ved slowly turns to his father with a sarcastic grin- “that’s riiiight! Aaaand WHAT am I doing right now?” He gestures at the chalkboard

Elad, cautiously setting the bowl on a table without taking his eyes off of Ved, starting to visibly sweat: “sh-scheming?”

“Mm-hmm!”

Ved abruptly TELEPORTS into his fathers personal space, nose-to-nose with him, causing Elad to SHRIEK with alarm

“And what, Daddy, are YOU doing right now?” Ved hisses through his teeth, eyes wide and manic

“LEAVING! I- I was- just leaving!” Elad FLEES from the room, covering his eyes fearfully to not make eye contact

“L-love you son, s-sorry to Interrupt!!” Elad stutters, zipping out of the room

“Don’t let it happen ag-ian! Love you Daddy!” Ved sing-songs down the hallway, before his face hardens, and he mutters under his breath- “even if you ARE a sniveling coward.”

As Ved floats back to his chalk schematics, he absent mindedly plucks a spider from the bowl and pops it in his mouth, giggling to himself- “mm, brown recluse!” 😊

Don’t have much else to say abt Elad tbh! But I HAVE done some more thinking about Veds childhood in general hehe >:3c fun fact, he and the other anti-fairy kids actually all met the fairy kids once! (Hazel facilitated it, but ALL the parents were there to supervise) With the exception of Dev, whose father and Au pairs FORBADE him from so much as being in the same room as ANY anti fairy , let alone his own ☠️ lemme know if yall would like to hear more about this encounter, or Veds childhood in general! Tbh I’ve kinda put a lot of thought into why he’s ✨like that™️✨)

Oh, and one more thing about Elad! In his teenage years, he suffered from chronic wing, eye, wrist and ankle pain- eventually it just went away, so Elad never discovered that the reason for it was the horrible conditions his fairy counterpart was being subjected to during the decades he was trapped by Vicky and forced to make bootleg wands in the secret caverns beneath the star-fall valley 🙃

….yeeeaaahhh, the lemonade stand equivalent in this AU is pretty messed up, not that Dales traumatic backstory wasn’t already ☠️